It was nice while it lasted

This just occurred to me - the guy who invented/makes these glasses is so boned in three years.

Heh, sucker.

Oh wait, he's a millionaire selling these to stupid people.

Shit.

(Image from: pds.exblog.jp)

Happy New Year

OK, for the record, no one is having as much fun tonight as the people on the front page of Yahoo! (see picture at right).

No one.

For us, it's frozen pizza, frozen roads, a fire and the Packers/Bears tilt which has lost much of its luster with the NFC playoff picture now in complete focus.

Play nice, campers and I might be checking in later tonight to try and push this old bitch up to 250 posts total for the year. It'll be like Michael Strahan going for the sack record - complete with a Brett Favre gimme because I'll bet dollars to donuts that the "Favre's last game" bullshit gets kicked up again tonight - only no one will notice.

(Photo from Yahoo.com)

Saddam is dead

CNN.com is reporting that Saddam Hussein has been executed this evening. Does everyone feel better now?

Not quite sure what it solves, but honest to God, the Iraqi prime minister's office is passing along word that people are dancing around the body. Doesn't that seem a little off?

Far be it from me to say what is and is not appropriate - especially across borders and cultures and all sorts of other factors - but can't we all agree that someone who just witnessed an execution shouldn't sound like there's a kegger about to break out at any moment?

In the background, Shiite chanting could be heard. When asked about the chanting, the official said "These are employees of the prime minister's office and government chanting in celebration."

The witness reported that celebrations broke out after Hussein was dead, and that there was "dancing around the body."

Oh, and this one dude totally showed up with a stop sign and no one knows where it came from but it's super-funny and Nick and Lisa totally might hook up. Also, grab some Coke and more ice if you're heading over now...

Makes you proud to have been a part of this whole process, huh America?

(Photo from iCNN.net)

The dark side

I'd held off on the MySpace pressure for as long as I could, but Disconnected in Suburbia has finally broken down my spirit.

The funny thing is that I was poking around the site when it was still primarily used to promote bands because most of the show promoters lose CDs as often as most people urinate, so it was cheaper to send a link with a music sampler already enclosed.

To be honest, I thought it was interesting enough, but clumsy and sorta ugly. It's still pretty clumsy - at least off the bat - but there's really no stopping it now, huh, campers?

Anyways, if you're into that sort of thing, head over to http://www.myspace.com/minneapolisredsox and check things out. If you're not streaming RSS feeds, I'll be updating blog posts here on MySpace now and at the very least you can hear the new Nas track.

There's got to be something said for that, right?

People? Not very smart

Just to get the wheels moving after the time off, here's a quick link I found through Poynter.org that grabbed a story from Maryland about how shops are scattered throughout the mall.

It just goes to show that no matter how special you think you are, how many works of art you see or massive European cathedrals you've been awed by, at the core, we're all pretty simple monkeys.

It's like the studies you see about people always turning right when they enter a new space and you realize that most of us are hard-wired the same way. Now, with a few precious hours left before I'm due back at work, I'm off to smear Cinnabon over a few dozen pairs of pants.

Prove that I'm a simple animal, will they...

A musical sandbox

Surf over the SpliceMusic.com if you're bored over the long holiday.

It's a link I picked up from G4's Attack of the Show and it lets you mix and match from sound clips, drum loops and different samples that people upload.

I tacked on mine below, so feel free to build off of it, or just bask in my awesomeness.

Go ahead, I can wait, you basking SOB's.

Christmas came early

I'll admit I was never a huge fan of Donald Trump and then this beauty showed up on What Would Tyler Durden Do today.

Now? I couldn't be a bigger Trump fan, it's literally impossible for me to be a bigger fan of his if I actively tried to love him any more.

Here's the problem if you're Rosie O'Donnel - you never had that many fans, lost the Asian vote with your "ching chong Ching" bit and now there are better reasons to hate her even more.

I have to say, that final slot on The View is just a magnet for losers and no-talent knuckleheads, so maybe there's hope for K Fed yet.

If you're scoring at home, I liked this part of The Donald's message of disgust: "So, probably I'll sue her, because it'd be fun."



I'm adding the feed of Rosie talking smack and here's where I get a degree of sick satisfaction - she's yapping away and the studio audience is eating it up, so she's got to feel pretty good about the whole situation leaving the studio.

It's akin to talking shit in a high school hallway, never taking the time to realize that in a fishbowl like that, word will spread like wildfire and then you're stuck with a sick feeling in your gut because you realize you really outran your coverage.

I'm with Anderson Cooper - utterly speechless.

Favre's not retiring, OK?

Thanks to the wonder of local broadcast rights, the Packers/Vikings game is on local TV tonight and has the NFL Network crew working the game.

Wow, is it bad.

Between Bryant Gumbel and Cris Collinsworth the gay factor is way, way up tonight - and I'm not making a "that's so gay" type thing out of this - to the point that it's uncomfortable to watch.

Gumbel has a real problem with overusing the phrase "in so and so's arms" and there was a string at the beginning of the game where someone was always coming, someone was always in some else's arms and another golden phrase "a whole lotta man."

(We just had another "Jackson in the arms of Kampman yet again..." sighting with 1:20 left in the fourth quarter if you need me to cite my sources.)

This goes way beyond John Madden's sick fascination with fat guys sweating down the inside of their legs - this is borderline obscene. God bless cable, campers.

A few quick thoughts:

This isn't Brett Favre's final game at Lambeau. He's too close to too many records and even several of the studio guys aren't buying into the hype of Favre hanging them up just yet.

Last year was close, but why would he walk now? In a rare moment of clarity, Collinsworth said he knew he was killing the storyline, but he didn't see it happening for those reasons and the fact that with a young team and offensive line, the hard work has been done - it makes little sense to give up now.

I'm torn, because if anyone has earned the right to overstay their welcome, it's Favre. That said, he should have walked a season or two ago. He's not aging well with the revolving door of injuries to the team's running backs and wide receivers and the whole "gunslinger" routine is wearing thin by now.

Danny and I were at Sunday's game and while seeing him in person was as much fun as it's always been, the charge in the crowd was different than it was in the Super Bowl years. Where you always felt that you had a chance with him in the game before now it's an uneasy proposition where he could go the length of the field in two minutes, he could get to the red zone where a bad pass or butterfingers by the receivers will kill the drive.

You just don't feel as secure as you used to with Favre at the helm, but it's not entirely his fault.

Still, the Packers just pulled off the win tonight to keep their playoff hopes alive - Playoffs? Playoffs? I'll be surprised if we win another game... - and everyone will have warm and fuzzy feelings in Green Bay tonight.

The face of the franchise helped work up another win, but against an awful Lions team and an inept Vikings squad, it's hard to feel good about this week in Packers football. Therein lies the problem.

Favre will win enough games and the rest of the NFC North will lose enough that you never really get much better with that setup. Add killer injuries at the wrong time (starters on the offense last year and the year before, including Javon Walker blowing out a knee on opening day) and you'll get middle of the draft picks, but not enough to really help much.

With a season in the toilet last year turning into AJ Hawk this season, you can see how that's a better option than constant mediocrity.

I think the key to Favre's future will be the same as last year - how much crap is he willing to deal with in order to pass Dan Marino in the record books? Who will stay and who will go? Who'll play alongside Donald Driver to give the team two options inside the five-minute mark and who will play on the defensive side of the ball.

(Let's all think about teams a QB away from a breakout season and get together early next week to see what we've come up with, OK? That would be the best situation for Favre to go out on a high note.)

My big concern? Can the media shut the hell up from February to July about Favre's status?

He might be done, but he's not retiring yet.

(Photo from Danny M.)

Snow Day!!!

You know what makes me happy to be working in Minnesota in the winter? Well, not much, actually - the weather is cold, the wind is really, really cutting and your car makes weird noises when plastic and metal are exposed to sub-zero temperatures.

Ypu know what's an nice, added perk? People actually understand when you don't want to face a soul-crushing afternoon stuck in a snow storm.

No, really - we had a snow day today. I'm just as shocked as you are.

Granted, it took 2 hours to drive 20 miles, but who's counting? I guess the thought is that if we're going to live in a snowy climate, you might as well get something out of it.

In Virginia, they'd let you come in later than usual, but you still had to be there. That was hundreds of times worse, though. Some of the worst bad-weather drivers you can imagine. Here, they let you make the call and it makes life a lot easier.

The common thread, though? Hills.

When you live in Illinois most of your life, the only hills you see are technically "underpasses" that dip under the train tracks. If you've never had the joy of being stopped on a hill in slush and ice, trust me - it's one of those things you can live without.

Sideways is bad - sideways and backwards is worse.

Bring the kids!

I'm loving the embedded videos lately.

Here's a heartwarming Christmas commercial from our buddies out east (and linked through CollegeHumor.com). In case you missed the original, I'll include that, too.

God, please don't let this man save SNL

I'd be interested to hear what teenagers think of Saturday Night Live, considering it's been a punchline for as long as they've known.

And not a good kind of punchline, either, but the kind where it represents all that sucks about sketch comedy.

While stars have emerged from the show since the early days, most didn't find their stride until they were edging towards the door and lining up movie careers anyways.

Lately, SNL has begun to put up a bit of a fight and today was the first time in a while I've heard someone ask if I saw the show this weekend. You'll find Justin Timberlake singing about putting his dick in a box at the bottom of the post.

Still, the common thread in all of the "did you see..." buzz has been Andy Samberg. Should this worry me as much as it does?

Weekend in paradise

While spending two days away from home - in a town I'll refrain from metioning by name, but within 45 minutes of Green Bay -I learned a few things:

* If you own a mailbox shaped like a bass, don't assume you'll be able to use it as a landmark when giving directions to friends. For example, if you were to say, "Head down off the paved road next to the county highway and look for the bass mailbox. Turn there and we're right down the driveway." your guests would be able to make no fewer than 15 wrong turns before finding your home.

* The elderly are out of control here. I thought when you got old you moved somewhere warm. Not so much the case here. Just try and drive the speed limit. Go ahead, I dare you.

* Home to some of the cheapest cars in North America. I shudder to think what is wrong with these things to be sold at the advertised prices on the used car lots. They must make Craigslist cars look like Bentleys.

* Line after line abound. I'm pretty sure it's because everyone uses cash like that Visa card commerical. I spent no fewer than four minutes in line to buy a Coke at the gas station and 10 minutes waiting on lunch at a Burger King. This does not help me at all. I'm a busy man.

* The highlight? Two Chinese buffets in town that I saw. That's gotta be up there in the per capita rankings, no?

Beyond words

I'm holed up in a motel in Central Wisconsin today, but thanks to modern technolgy, I'm not roaming the streets, looking for locals to annoy.

Instead, I'm here at the laptop and I bring you the Great Leprechuan Hunt.

I'd list my favorite scenes, but it'd basically be a transcript of the newscast.

Anybody here who seen the leprechuan say, "Yeah!"

Levels of pissivity

Gentlemen, gather around - today, it's all about you.

Not in a posting about beer, football and crapping in a hole in the ground in the woods kind of way, but in a nod your head at your desk in your cube, while the women in the office - were they to walk by - would ask, "What the hell is he talking about?" kind of way.

That's the long way 'round to my discussion on the Lady TV hosts that drive me crazy and categorizing the three biggest offenders by the level to which I have a violent reaction.

The Girl has her shows like I have my shows. The running joke is that the Food Network is her ESPN and that's not so much of a joke anymore. She watches it too much in my opinion like I watch sports too much in her opinion. If she could fork over an additional $200 to watch cooking competitions from around the nation, I bet we'd have that like we order our Extra Innings package.

The Passable - Great Hotels with Samantha Brown isn't too bad, but she's way too perky, makes stupid puns and over-involved set ups and plays to the camera in a more pandering way than the Teletubbies.

I always feel like she's 10 seconds away of telling me the fun things to do in the Fort Lauderdale area for those who have been kicked in the head by a mule.

All told, I can live with this show in small doeses, like once a day or less.

Still, some of the hotels are cool, but there's no way that normal people can watch this show and start planning vacations or anything (on the show we saw tonight, the fucking cabana cost $150 a day).

I guess they'd have no show if she stayed at the HoJo's and Holiday Inn's of the Upper Plains, but still. Tonight I found out she is getting another show to pander, lame-ass joke and perk away on.

Why? Was the outcry for a third Sam Brown show so great that they simply couldn't keep her off the air any longer?

You know who I think should have three shows?

Flavor Flav, that's who.

You're Pushing Me, Lady - Stacy London of What Not to Wear pushes me into the world of outright irritation.

She yaks and pokes fun and tells people that their wardrobes suck - which, in all fairness, they usually do - all the while looking like The Nanny's ill-tempered older sister.

This usually gets old around the four-minute mark. Here's the thing - the new gimmick is to embarass the victim in front of their friends, families and co-workers. This strikes me as a bit counterproductive in the long run.

If I came to your place of business, bitch-slapped you and called you ugly, would you want to listen to anything I said after that? It's one thing to claim you're a fashion expert - yes, apparently you need to go to Vassar to qualify for that (Class of '91) - it's another to make someone feel like shit because they're out making a living instead of reading fashion magazines in bed and calling your friends to discuss what dresses you loved at the Oscars three weeks ago.

Much like most of these shows, the whole thing boils down to a few vital parts - throw out anything made with puff paint, make sure your pants are tailored or at least fit and, Lord almighty, don't ever wear the same clothes you did in high school, even if you can still fit in them - but that doesn't make good TV, so they might as well take a dump on someone while they're at it.

The whole package might be a bit easier to swallow if she wasn't such a bitch throughout the whole thing and tried to be a bit more supportive before the 21-minute mark in the show. It's like they flip a switch on her back and she turns into Princess Sunshine, praising that week's sucker for picking out clothes that don't look like they came from a hooker clown college.

Banned in the Household As Long As I Have a Pulse - This brings us to the Queen Bee of pissing me off tothe highest level of pissivity.

Rachel Ray.

Another one who everyone but me has apparently writing non-stop to the networks beg them to slap her mug on every channel possible every hour of the day and night.

I mean, Jesus...

I nearly began foaming at the mouth when I saw her on the Ritz cracker box a few weekends ago and had a pre-emptive apology from The Girl, who swears she didn't see Rachel Ray on the box before she bought it.

I wish I could believe that.

This swamp donkey is obnoxious to no end and her show drives me batshit crazy. About the only real entertainment value I get from the show is seeing her and knowing there are rumors that a.) her husband pays women hundreds of dollars to spit on him - heh - and b.) that he also requested things so disgusting that a hooker said no, regardless of the money involved.

I imagine this playing out like that scene in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back where Jay is so vile he makes a hooker quit.

According to The Girl, Ray has been told to knock that shit off or they're going to pull the plug on her new talk show as well, which I think is beyond awesome. She's running around, hopped up on sugar and oven cleaner and I can't understand half of the things that come out of her mouth and get driven crazy by the other half.

Would the ratings be that much worse if they ran non-stop episodes of Good Eats in her place?

The half-assed money-making scheme of the week? A grown-up version of the V-Chip that would block these three women and any other shows the viewer deems craptacular.

I'd keep this on the down-low in the in-store ads so the ladies wouldn't catch on, but I'd also include a short, 30-minute prep session on how to say, "Why no, honey, I think the Food Network isn't carried by our cable company anymore. I hear that Rachel Ray stabbed an intern and the lawsuit that followed bankrupted the network." without smiling from ear to ear.

(ButtermilkPress.com / Vassar.edu / Discovery.com)

She's a looker

We took Lucky to the dog park today - which is so massive, it shouldn't be classified as a park per se, more of a dog national forest and protected wetlands enclosure - and while it's warm for Minneapolis in the winter, it's still pretty cold.

I gave The Girl the coat I had on, which is a brown, corduroy deal I bought at a thrift store years ago. Surprisingly warm, but when you take it off a 200-plus-pound frame and put it on a girl who is just over five-feet, it makes her look like a homeless Michelin man.

"You look like Tyrone Biggums!" I said with delight.

"Who?"

"Wait until we get home, I'm totally blogging this shit," I said.

The man to the right, honey? That's Tyrone. Try to stay off the crack if the coat will allow it.

(Image from Wikipedia.org)

Remember when?

It's been mentioned here before, but it's happened again - working in a high school made me stop, shake my head and do the old, "It wasn't like that when I was kid."

The funny thing is that when I got home, I was flipping through last month's GQ and there's a story about an editor who went back to his high school to hang out for a month. Every few months, something similar appears and I'd link to it here, but of course, it's off the Web site by now. (It's the one with Dwayne Wade on the cover).

The main premise of the piece was that yes, high school is different, but in the grand scheme of things, it's a lot like it'd been even 15 years ago.

There are more things to be afraid of these days and the possibility for violence and more dangerous drugs is a real problem, but just because there are more things to be wary of doesn't mean high school on a day-to-day level is significantly worse than it was.

The thing that stuck out was that the doors are locked on a mandatory basis whenever classes are in session following Columbine. The reason this stuck out was that I was stuck in the middle of a lockdown today.

Granted, it was a lockdown drill but strange in any event.

Seeing new classroom technologies is to be expected, but I can remember the biggest hallway threat being kids sneaking out to smoke in the bathroom. Now, twice a year, this school locks down on a practice basis and teachers snare any student walking in the halls while students get away from the doors and windows.

I remember tornado drills, fire drills and assorted timed exercises to make us safer, but this was pretty jarring. The students didn't bat an eyelash which is a pretty damning commentary in itself.

My folks hid under desks as a way to keep them safe from falling bombs and even in second grade, I didn't feel much safer in the hallway on my hands and knees in case the roof of the school got ripped off.

I'm sure to the indestructible youth of today, it's apples to apples - just another stupid thing they have to do because someone else is telling them to inside the school's walls - which is why they're so nonchalant about it.

Someday when the killer robots are picking off the elderly and stray dogs, I'm sure my kids with roll their eyes, slap a piece of aluminum foil over a lunch tray and wait for the bell to ring with an all clear, but today this was weird.

Today it made me shake my head, walk it off and ask when things got so bad. I never guessed I'd be nostalgic for the good old days in the early 90s.

I never thought I'd see 1996 as a safer time.

The first of what might be many defenses of Studio 60

I've made no secret of my undying man crush on Aaron Sorkin. His alcoholism speech that he gave to Leo in the West Wing episode where he has to explain why he never saw the president fall during debate prep remains one of the greatest things I've ever read next to "Grand Theft Auto will release a new game soon," "Lunch buffet - $6" and " AJ Pierzinski is dead of an apparent donkey-genital-related accident," whenever that happens.

Still, I find it difficult when he goes off and does stupid, pretty indefensible stuff like this bit, mentioned in Frank the Tank's blog this week.

I had been planning to get to all of the commotion about how the comedy show central to Studio 60 isn't all that funny - more on that later - but the critics, both professional and armchair who are taking umbrage to Sorkin picking fights and trying to marginalize the Midwest in general and Red States in particular.

While Frankie and others are right in calling out Sorkin for painting anything west of the Appalachians and east of the Pacific Time Zone as a bunch of Jesus-loving hicks, I tend to limit my ire on this because it makes for easy shorthand on a weekly television show.

In this particular instance, it wasn't a major plot point that all people in the Midwest didn't know who Abbott and Costello were - and honestly, you'd assume the Midwest would have a more intimate knowledge of the duo on a per capita basis - the point was that one character's parents didn't know the history of comedy, which was causing friction in the family.

It'd be different if the show had been written to have one character say to another, "Did you see the new Gallup poll? Nearly 72 percent of all residents in Indiana don't know who Abbott and Costello are!" but it wasn't. It was an important facet to the storyline and I think that it's been taken out of context, given the outcry I've read and heard.

In the biggest Red State baiting episodes, John Goodman played a small town judge in Nevada who toyed with the cast and network brass based on his position of power. In the end, he got the best of the fancy-pants Hollywood liberals and the whole thing played out pretty well.

Here's the deal on both of these fronts - it comes down to suspension of disbelief.

Rather than get too worked up over why Sorkin is picking on Ohio or Iowa or wherever, it needs to be taken as intended so that without having to burn screen time with an extended exposition on this particular town and their conservatism, they just break out the big brush and hit everyone at once.

I'm OK with this. If the rest of the Midwest wants to shift the blame back down to Alabama, then they need to stop voting Republican. No one had a problem with this same type of broad strokes in the West Wing when Midwest was equated with down-home family values, a blue collar work ethic and ethical folks who just wanted to do right by America.

On the same topic, I don't see a need to make the sketches rival the first years of Saturday Night Live in order to make the show work. Would I prefer to see hysterical sketches that broke up the scenes? Sure. But I don't really need that.

Again, if you can take this at face value and work with the premise that Matthew Perry's character is a sublimely talented comedy writer, why can't that be enough.

Again, I'd prefer it with better comedy, but what does it really detract from the overall show if the sketches aren't fall-down funny? It's still funnier than Home Improvement and that show was on for roughly 15 years.

I guess the point is that if you want to have quick-reference stereotypes for your weekly network dramas, you're going to have to break some eggs. Everyone knew that Jed Bartlet wasn't the real president, that the cowboy antics depicted by his staff wouldn't fly in the real world and that bi-partisan stunts in the name of public good weren't really in the realm of possibility, but it made us feel better about ourselves.

Is it really such a bad thing to have a show that makes us think that somewhere in America - outside of South Park - there are writers and actors on a television show that prize content above viewership and would prefer to use their positions on the show for something more than a springboard to further their own celebrity?

I know my TiVo is monitored and the contents sold to be sliced, diced and consumed to try and convince me to buy more crap I don't need, but still - once a week it's nice to step outside of that.

More so, West Wing made us care about the characters and worry about them to the point that most fans felt a double loss when the real John Spencer died because we lost both a talented actor but Leo as well.

If you ask me, that's the biggest problem I'm having with Studio 60 right now - that the character development is suffering because too much energy is being expended on taking shots at irrelevant causes. I agree with the Chicago Tribune columns that argue that the characters are suffering on the show and that there are too many loose ends and unexplored plots out there.

But to damn the writing because it follows the same formula as West Wing and SportsNight before it? That's just asking this show to play by a different set of rules.

(Photo from WashingtonPost.com)

The best part of being famous

OK, aside from the insane amounts of money people get from being A-List actors and all the perks that come with that, I think the best part about being famous is this.

If you ever forget your camera, you're covered.

No questions asked.

(Yes, that is a picture of Ms. Barton taking her own picture as someone takes a picture of that... Whoa, meta...)

By the way, jump on over to the site I saw this on - PerezHilton.com - it's a lot like Tyler Durden, but with less text and a bit more brutal.

I'm sure you'll all love it.

Vroom, vroom...

I'm surfing CraigsList tonight looking for a possible work truck to keep the miles off my baby for unknown reasons - really, what do I have to gain by keeping a truck with 125,000 miles on it at this point? - and every few minutes I lean over to The Girl and make her laugh.

Sorry if the links go down before you see them - the pertinent quotes have been included and I hope you get a chance to see some of these trash heaps.

The highlights?

* This little gem - Only one bullet hole. Well shit, only one? Awesome, how late will you be up tonight? I'll run right over.

* Also, there are a minimum of two school busses on sale (sweet) which I bet would make hauling gear to work sites pretty simple.

* This guy got screwed pretty badly - "I have a loan on this truck for $3,700 dollars." That's for 189,000 miles on a banged up Toyota. And there's nearly 4,000 bucks left. Wow.

* And this is really great - "Please take it away, starts runs good no forward gears... " That might be a problem. Unless you want it to just sit around in such a sweet ride to wait for the girls to be drawn to it like iron shavings to a magnet.

Man, that guy sounds more desperate than the dude with four grand left on that other heap.

Something tells me this isn't over quite yet...

(Photo from CraigsList posting)

This is why the rest of the world hates us

For me, it's strange to see the Mall of America as a tourist destination sometimes.

While I've been on the other side of the fence before - the, "Oh, let's hit the Mall of America! We're in Minneapolis!" side of the fence - now it's the big mall 10 minutes from the house.

We were there Sunday afternoon to do a little holiday shopping while the only football game on local television was Vikings/Cardinals from the Dome.

While I'd heard a very low buzz about the gingerbread mansion, I'd kind of forgotten it was there until we were in the mall and saw the signs for it.

According to the official web site:

Gingerbread artist and current World Record Holder Roger Pelcher and his team of gingerbread experts will log 1,700 hours between now and November 24 to create a 60-foot gingerbread wonder. Encompassing 1,496 square feet, the house will consist of 14,250 pounds of gingerbread and 4,750 pounds of icing. KKE Architects and PCL Construction Services, Inc. are serving as major sponsors of the construction, donating time and resources to the completion of the house...

Donated embellishments include 1,800 Hershey's® chocolate bars; 2,800 Pearsons Nut Rolls; 1,200 feet of Twizzlers®; 100 pounds of large-sized Tootsie Rolls®; 300 pounds of DOTS®; 100 12" Whirly Pops®; 100 pounds each of Brach's Star Brites® Mix, Holiday Mix, Crimp Ribbon, Christmas Spicettes and Christmas Nougats; and thousands of candy canes from Farley & Sathers.

If I'm a starving person in the Twin Cities, I'm very, very angry right now. As a guy who eats more than he should, I'm just angry.

Yes, I know there is money being donated to a senior center and all... but still.

If you'd like to see the monstrosity in web cam form, here it is and it's worth noting it's hosted by the construction company that built it.

Try and defend this however you'd like, but the bottom line is this - a house bigger than the one we're renting is being made of food. The end.

* Also worth noting was the sign I saw walking into the mall through one of the retail chain stores. It was full of kids clothes - hats and mittens - and everything was 50 percent off.

That is to say that when you read the price, you were to assume that the price you'd pay at the register would be exactly half.

The original prices were even, round numbers - $6, $8, $14, etc. - and they still felt the need to break down what half of 6, 8 or 14 was on a handy sign. Are we really that dumb, or does the store just assume we're that dumb?

I'm pretty confused by it all.

Secret Santa is dying

A few times a year, a story pops up where someone with a lot of money gives some of it back. What makes it interesting and special is that instead of donating it to a faceless do-good type operation - which is fine, don't get me wrong - they do it quietly, face to face and to help out just one person.

A waitress in a small diner in the middle of nowhere is asked what the biggest tip she's ever been given has been and when she goes to pick up the check, there are hundreds of dollars or more waiting for her.

When the credit card receipt is checked, it turns out the guys who swung in on a quiet night for pie and coffee owns a multi-million dollar company. Only then does word spread and the media gets involved.

The really good stories end quickly because the guy with the thick bankroll doesn't want to talk about it.

It's happened again.

Like I said, it's always pretty cool and I'm not sure how I'd handle it if I suddenly made a small fortune. If you spend time scrapping and saving, I'd imagine a huge $1,000 tip would still sting no matter how much money you made - you never really get out of the mindset that you need to save and sacrifice.

Still, I love these stories when they come through. Someone gives way too much and only to try and make life a little bit better for a stranger they just met.

It's enough to entice you to drop a $20 bill in the guy's cup at the stoplight. It sounds like that's how this secret Santa got started.

(Image from loc.gov)

Don't even joke about stuff like that

The Girl and I had to go to church last week to meet with a deacon who would be filling out the paperwork to allow us to move ahead with church counseling, church-related wedding planning and other things we need to complete to get married - you guessed it - in a church.

Let me just say that some of the questions were odd and I had to restrain myself several times to keep from making smart-ass comments that may or may not have put our wedding in jeopardy.

I really wanted to ask if when they asked a bride and groom (to be) sitting at the same table in the same room when they were engaged - and did so seperately - if they've ever had different answers.

I can see if it were some sort of test and all, but still.

Also, I had about three green card-related jokes to the question, "Are you here to be married in a Catholic church free of duress..."

Maybe four.

All would have killed. Most would have killed the wedding.

The thing they don't tell you

I was on my way home from work when I saw the first wisps of smoke from the orphanage.

Risking life and limb, I sped to the fire and started grabbing as many kids as I could, fighting smoke and flame to save orphan after orphan until the fire department could arrive.

That's why it's been so quiet here lately. That, or I got an XBox 360.

Oh, Microsoft will sing all day about the upgrades to graphics, processing speeds and networking options, but the thing they don't tell you?

It will sap you of all motivation to do anything not related to the XBox 360. Work is a vector to gain cash to buy more games, pay for acessories or keep the cable modem humming along.

In reality? You're like a junkie, sneaking off from work with a single-minded purpose - to play more XBox.

Sony and Microsoft may be squaring off for what the industry is calling a fight for your living room, to create a system that will handle gaming, music, movies and an assortment of network-based entertainment, but you know who the real loser will be?

The crack trade.

Crack might be addictive and all, but it's not zombie killing, you know?

(Image from XBox.com)

A house divided

I'm going to take a bath in my Pick 'Em league this week.

With losses by New England, Kansas City and Minnesota, I took a big dump at the top half of my picks for the week. The only reason I'm not a complete basket case tonight is because of that last one.

Green Bay beat the Vikings and I couldn't be more pleased.

In our house, I can get pretty geeked up over football, especially later in the fall and to combat this, The Girl made no secret of her rooting interests from the first fall we were together.

Already today I've compared the team and its fans to all sorts of nasty things/groups and may or may not have crossed several lines in doing so. I also mentioned loudly on several occasions that the Vikes were behind because they were bad people.

I spent most of the game by myself or with the dog.

Still, for having such low expectations, it's been a good week. The team isn't as awful as I'd thought and they're stealing a win here and there. I have no illusions about the end of the season game in Chicago, but at least now I'm not shrinking in disgust. It's a dangerous place to be as a fan.

Tonight though, it's a happy time - even when The Girl ramps up her cheering for the Vikings dependent on the score of the games - and the Favre Watch on Packers.com seems a little less ridiculous.

It wasn't Packers/Bears and the fans play possum a little too much for my liking (just listen for the air to come out of the building when Minnesota goes down by more than two otuchdowns next time) but it was a nice win. I was pretty excited to see Favre jumping around like old times. I wasn't even that irked about the play calling which seemed like a kid picking up the controller at Best Buy to demo the new Madden game - Uhh... the only reciever I know is Driver and he's good, right?

I'm pretty sure I'm going to write 23-17 in the dirt on the truck door before I head to work tomorrow. Let's just say I might be looking forward to a Monday for a change.

(Photo from jumpandphilshh.com)

Einstein, Hawking... Manning?

On the short list of those in sports that I simply can't stand, Peyton Manning is one of the guys that I have no personal reasons to dislike.

Give me Alex Rodriguez for his Yankee-related misdeeds, Joe Buck and Tim McCarver for their yearly attempts to ruin the road to the World Series and Luke Walton for general douchery, but as far as Manning goes, he's just a general knucklehead who hasn't done much to me personally.

He hasn't knocked my team from the playoffs or killed them with a last-second drive. No, he's just been a general annoyance and his high-profile on the national scene just leaves him little place to hide from my unfounded anger.

Right now Indianapolis is playing New England in the Sunday night game and after a week's worth of columns and hype, it's nice to see the tide turning on the king of the late-season choke job. Especially with the match-up against Tom Brady, the natinal media has picked up the banner for "That's great, Peyton... but why can't you win when it matters?" and I couldn't be happier.

I think the breaking point for me was before the 2004 season when the league handed down a new set of rules for the defense that made it illegal to do anything more than speak softly to wide receivers after the Colts bitched and moaned all winter about how they were mugged in the previous year's playoffs.

To this, I say, "Easy, ladies - it's football, not figure skating."

The general consensus was that Manning was a genius because he called audibles at the line and helped to tailor make the team's game plan from line line. He was so smart that he was able to read a defense and call new plays on the fly, earning him a reputation as a genius...

Right.

You know who is the real genius? Tom Moore. Somehow, he's pulling a paycheck from the Colts for a job that we've been told for years is being done by Manning. I'd take a six-figure salary to hold a clipboard and fetch coffee 16 Sundays a year, wouldn't you?

That year the Colts broke free under the new rules, rolled up scoring records and ran roughshod over the league's defenses. Then the playoffs came as always and the Colts still lost. New rules, what seemed to be the unspoken blessing of the league and in the end Indy crapped the bed and went home early.

Later that winter, reports came back to the States that Manning and his wife were vacationing in Mexico and he was still pouting about it. Mrs. Manning dragged old Peyton out of the house for sun, fun and margaritas on the beach and he spent the whole trip making bitchy comments about how he was paying for all of it, even if she used her credit card, and generally acting like a big baby.

I took the cutout of that story and posted it in my cube. Even if the Packers are due for a series of rebuilding years, this storyline will keep me interested in football until they can come back.

Anyways, this week has been interesting as the new storyline is how Brady is the closer and knows how to win and Manning may throw up gaudy numbers but has yet to show he knows how to put games away in the playoffs.

I just take a liking to the unheralded QBs making a bigger splash in the league (on the whole) that the top picks that are churned out yearly. (Going back now it's Ben Roethlisberger for the Steelers last year, Brady twice, Brad Johnson, Brady again, Trent Dilfer, Kurt Warner and then John Elway. Maybe later in the season I'll go back and pull draft positions for the QBs for the past 20 years, but looks back to the history of the league and there are plenty of late-round superstars. Why this happens is a source of constant debate, but it makes things a lot more interesting.

Regarding the Colts, there are as many theories as scoring records at this point - from Indy being tired in December after blowing teams out all season to a squad that fails to grasp the "team concept."

I don't care what happens as long as they keep losing.

(Photo from CNN.com)

Mother Nature, what a gal

It started out inncoently enough - Some friends and I were ordering pizza together at my last job and as we worked out what would work for all of us, I let my hatred of olives surface once and for all.

"Olives? The olive is nature's bum's asshole."

I stand by the statement.

Over at the Chronically Insane household, he's got to watch the language around the kids and such, but it's leeching into their vocabulary as well.

This makes me happy.

Anyways, I tend to add and subtract as it suits my purposes, but learned a new one this weekend.

Already on the master list are:

Corn: Nature's tracer bullet and one we as a couple cribbed from a television show that went under a year or so ago and whose name I'll never be able to remember. That one was: Ants: Nature's pallbearers.

This weekend's revelation?

Fire: Nature's rake.

(Image from Ouaj.com)

Ugly Americans

There's a show devoted to diners across the country on the Food Network late tonight and it's showing all sorts of people eating all sorts of things that are awful for you.
From chili burgers buried under a half pound of onion rings to meatloaf baked in alfredo sauce, I'm pretty sure I'll have chest pains tomorrow just from watching this show. Actually, they're starting now.

At a South Carolina joint there's a local girl who is home to visit talking about how the food around her new home sucks. Her new home is Paris, France.

While I won't fight her on this as I am one of the worst culprits when it comes to dragging my feet on international travel - My stance is that there's plenty of cool stuff stateside that I haven't seen yet, so why devote more time and money on a vacation when there's so much to be done here - I just wonder how much smack-talking she does when she gets back to Paris.

While I haven't given it a boatload of thought yet, there's really not a lot of middle ground when it comes to American stereotypes these days.

It's pretty much redneck or stuffy blueblood and California cool versus cowboy when you're painting Americans with a wide brush.

Don't get me wrong, I don't see myself as any of the above and look around and see perfectly fine, perfectly normal people and I feel as good as the next guy when I see all those honest, hard-working Americans in truck commercials on during the football games, but I'd bet if you polled 100 people on the street in any of the world's major cities, they wouldn't have a clue about your run of the mill folks that you'll see on a daily basis.

Then again, when we crap a new McDonald's onto some unsuspecting populace every 15 to 20 seconds, I can't really blame them.

(Photo from theotherpage.com)

It's like Punk'd but, you know, not funny

Wanna know the best only good thing about The Jamie Kennedy Experiment?

You can tell that the people Kennedy "tricks" have no clue who he is and that there's a show that he's currently hosting.

In fact, right now I'm betting half the people reading this are scratching their heads and looking confused (To answer your questions, he's the hyper guy from Scream and it's a hidden camera show like Punk'd but with boring people instead of celebrities).

I bet there are hours upon hours of B Reel on the cutting room floor that are just Kennedy trying to explain who he is and that yes, in fact, he does have a show.

I mean, what would your reaction be if someone told you you'd been "X'd?"

I'd probably say, "What the hell are you talking about?" And, "Why is there a rubber rat in my soup?" Also, "No, I won't sign the waiver. Fuck you, I'm glad you wasted 50 bucks in film."

(Photo from UTA.edu)

It'd have conclusions you'd jump to!

I read the comments made by Kanye West at the MTV Europe Music awards and immediately e-mailed Frankie.

I asked him if he saw it as the hop-hop version of the Office Space meltdown about, "I'm a people person, dammit!"

Frankie thinks it's the hip-hop Jump to Conclusions mat.

I'm torn.

Also, I've watched this damned thing a few times, and I can't tell if he's kidding or not. I really can't. Also, after seeing the video that he lost to, he just might be right.

It looks like a bunch of hungover guys trashing an IKEA. Not really cutting edge. Or jumping canyons and shit.

Boom!

I'm watching a half-hour program on the progression of Madden Football to the next-gen consoles and it's getting to be pretty scary.

The horrors and twisted beauty of 300 pounds of meat springing to life combined with every grunt... Yeah, John's got a hard road getting out of bed these days.

Also, there's apparently a plan to hire ex-players and pro wrestlers to come to your house every Sunday and beat the living piss out of you to make the game stick with you all week.

Did you know they're creating animations for blades of grass now?

Or that the audio contains footstep and breathing tracks?

And that they change the sounds of rain depending if you're running or standing?

I was considering picking up a copy now that baseball season is over, but seeing this I can't see how I've managed to live this long without an XBox 360. I mean, really - are you aware of how empty I feel right now?

Considering this game and car commercials are my only connections to popular music these days, I'm pretty much forced to buy this game soon, but the chance to see a fully animated version of David Carr's face as it gets stuffed inside his anus 15 times a game because the Texans management has no business running an NFL team is almost too much to resist.

I can almost smell the virtual Ben-Gay and it's calling my name.

(Photo from MLV.com)

Today's garage tip

Seeing as this information exists no where else on the Internet (trust me, I checked), here is the simple code for resetting the oil change/service light in a 2002 Mercury Cougar.

First, get the old oil out of the car somehow and get some new stuff in.

Then, press the "Units" and "Reset" buttons at the same time and hold for five seconds.

The little wrench light will turn off and you will be free to resume your life.

Seriously, kids - if you keep your gas tank full and replace the oil regularly, you'll keep a car running for decades. It's really not that difficult anymore.

(Photo from consumerguide.com)

Fresh blood

It's halftime of the Dallas/Carolina game and Tony Romo is one of the story lines they're pushing from the broadcast booth.

For the non-football junkies, Romo has taken over as the starting quarterback in Big D after two seasons of Drew Bledsoe residing there as the top stopgap solution for the Cowboys.

Following the retirement of Troy Aikman, there's been a bit of a revolving door in the Lone Star State and Bledsoe is just the latest victim there.

That's not what has me thinking, though.

I just can't imagine being the big dog for years and then having to get used to the idea of being benched and essentially knowing that your career - and to a greater extent, your identity - is drawing to a close.

With few exceptions, quarterbacks and other athletes are simply not useful at some point in their careers and are dumped without much afterthought. Except for the superstars who make their way through the league and are kept on past their expiration dates, most simply fade away, replaced by a younger player with a stronger arm or livelier legs.

Contrast this against the jobs most of us settle into. You keep working and keep learning and eventually become a bigger asset to your organization on the day of your retirement than you were on the day of your hiring.

Teachers, accountants and salepeople all gather knowledge and skill sets that are built upon and added to as they progress and in more cases than not, they become more valuable as they pile on the years.

It has to be somewhat jarring to know that you peak fairly early as an athlete and after a few good years you can spend all your time studying, but your body will eventually betray you.

So, I'm now watching Bledsoe ride the pine and hang on to a clipboard for Bill Parcels, but it's exactly how things are supposed to be. Planned obsolescence is a part of the game, but it can't be any easier to take when it happens on an individual basis. I don't even have a particular attatchment to the guy and it's still pretty interesting to watch.

Imagine being the best athlete at your grammar school with a cannon arm in third grade, picked to be the all-time quarterback in playground games at recess, taking over the high school team as a sophomore, having colleges break down your door to get you to take a free diploma from their school, being a Top 5 pick and making a splash in the NFL.

You don't even have to be an NFL starter to follow that career arc - even the last guy on the roster was probably the best player his county ever produced, and definitely the best player ever to play at his high school.

Now, you're blog fodder for disgruntled fans and angry talk radio callers - people make a living making fun of you on ESPN and the general consensus is that your team is better off with you sitting on the sidelines.

That has to be harsh to wake up one morning and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the naysayers are right and that you're on borrowed time as the alpha dog. The game isn't about to stop and you only have years ahead of empty Sundays, watching the next big thing do your old job.

Some people really bash away on athletes who take too long to leave or are always around the game after retirement, but it has to be very difficult to walk away from it cold turkey.

Let's face it, there is only so much space in a broadcast booth to stash away the league's alumni.

(Photo from ProFootballHoF.com)

Freaking amateurs...

When I was in college, we'd go through the dorms and round up the sample-sized shampoos, toothpaste tubes and razors that came free when we bought our books. See, the story was that all these companies would give us travel-sized shit in the hopes that we'd develop brand loyalty.

Want to know how to get college kids to buy your shit? Price it 50 cents to a dollar cheaper than similar products, it's just that simple.

While you might assume - especially given my history - that I was using this to make bathtub meth or something of that ilk, you'd be wrong. We'd use the Residence Hall Association to round up all of these tiny samples, drop them in boxes and I'd take them over to the city's shelters.

When you end up at a shelter, chances are that personal hygiene isn't a top priority at the moment you arrive, if you get the drift.

Long story short is that shelters of all kinds are slammed around the holidays. People shelters, dog shelters, any and all of the above are flush with cash and food from Thanksgiving to New Year's and they have a hard time making the ends meet in June and July.

While you'll feel like a prick turning down donation requests in the winter, trust me - give your money in the summertime and they'll cash your check that afternoon. (Make up a half dozen sandwiches in December if you feel that guilty.)

I wonder if ghost hunters get pissy about people getting jacked up for Halloween because no one pays attention until now. Do you think they pack it in and go on vacation this week, or are they even more excited about dead stuff than usual?

(Photo from DogInc.jp)

How badass is that?

I needed to pick up a test DVD today so I can watch movies while pretending to work... uh, properly test audio and visual solutions for today and tomorrow. (For the record, I grabbed The Muppets Take Manhattan because it's live-action and contains no curse words. Also, the Swedish Chef is my own personal Jesus, but that's neither here nor there.)

I swung through the video game aisle and couldn't pass on the Warriors game by Rockstar. For those of you who talked to girls before your early-20s, Rockstar makes the Grand Theft Auto series and brand new Bully.

They're one of my favorite companies these days, and I seriously contend that the music snobs of today fighting about Capitol Records versus RCA will fight in 10 years about Rockstar versus Electronic Arts.

I could be wrong.

Anyways, I've only played about a half hour, but so far I've beaten a homeless man, mugged someone, stolen a car radio, broke into a medical supply store and took drugs.

Needless to say, The Girl isn't as excited as I am to have this thing in our house.

Oh, and for the record, I'm going to make the shittiest parent when it comes to parental controls. I'll either have to be a raging hypocrite or hide my super-awesome and ultra-violent games like most guys hide porn.

(Image from: images.tomshardware.com)

Finding new ways to feel inferior

Don't get me wrong - I like my job most days occasionally but lately I keep getting beaten around by the overwhelming feeling that there has to be something else to do in this town.

Granted, I never set out to do what I do and loved my job as a writer/editor much more than anything I've done in the half-decade since, but that doesn't stop me from being good at the jobs I do in the interim.

Now I'm in audio-visual technologies and I take care of making sure all of the installs go through as smoothly as possible, which is to say, not smoothly at all, but with enough apologies that the customers don't usually sue the pants off of us.

Lately, this has been a bit problematic, because despite my best attempts to be mediocre, I'm somehow being seen as an asset to the company and as such, I'm given more work. This both surprises and stresses me.

It pay's good enough, the hours can be pretty flexible and no one micro-manages me, but I'm faced with the simple fact that I will never be talking to someone and say with pride, "See that mid- to low-level local company? I made sure they can play DVDs at staff meetings for them.

Doesn't have much of a ring to it.

The sorry thing is that the big push for me was our guilty pleasure TV show, How I Met Your Mother where one of the characters is an architect and is talking about pointing out his first building.

I have the feeling that the ship has sailed on that one for me. The strange thing is that I feel no more or less pride in the jobs I do here than similar ones I've done before - in comparson I took a great deal of pride in writing a good story or helping one of my reporters get rolling or finished, so it's not really apples to apples there - it's just a feeling that I really hate taking pride in jobs I do now.

I don't tank them, but when they're done there's not a lot left to be said.

I think we need to start selling strictly to orphanages and crippled dogs. That and I need to shut up and work - when I'm worrying about the impact of my day's work through the prism of a network sitcom, I obviously have bigger issues at play here.

(Photo from tv.yahoo.com)

Catching up with friends

I've been a bad Interweb buddy - Chronically Insane has been breaking the comedy bank over at his site, which has a handy link to the right.

From his revelation that he's getting older and losing a little off the top of his sick, sick head to a stunning opus on whether or not to bash the hell out of a possum in his garbage, it's been pretty outstanding lately.

And I haven't shoved anyone over there...

Man, I'm a total cyber-douche.

Totally.

(Incidentally, if I'm him, I go for the stubble-head if I'm going to go that way. Shaved down to the scalp just seems a little weird to me. Plus, it works as velcro for winter hats. No, seriously, it does.)

26.19999 Miles of greatness

The majesty of man battling the elements and his own body to cover 26.2 gruelling miles.

Going further and faster on foot than one would think would be humanly possible.

Watching Kenyans totally eat it at the finish line.

Ah, who doesn't love a marathon, huh kids?




And in a move that should surprise no one but the very old and very stupid, there's an investigation afoot to figure out just what happened this weekend... Uh, I could save them a couple thousand dollars in research fees, but then again, I'm no expert on friction coefficients and the wisdom of placing smooth surfaces on wet days at the end of a very long and draining race.

I'm sorry, but I'm just not that guy.

In communist Russia, leaves rake you!

Someday, when my child asks me why communism bit it, I'll smile, pat them on the head and go back to watching baseball.

Eventually, when their incessant bitching finally wears me down, I hope that breakdown occurs in the fall, because then life will be easy.

I'll take them out into the yard, watch the leaves swirl around and ask why in the hell anyone would rake the lawn when the wind and busy-bee neighbors will do the same work for free and without having to give up a perfectly good weekend day.

You see, there's no real reason to clean up your yard when the problem becomes not yours every time the wind blows. It's a perfect little world, no? USA! USA!

I mean, the public good is fine and all, but really, if you choose not to do your part, it doesn't impact your world that much except that the neighbors might give you the stink eye.

Really, what's in it for me, other than a sore back?

Why doesn't Communism work, little one? Because people like Daddy are jerks. Stupid, selfish jerks.

(Image from Canonical.org)

The Cubs might kill this man

Reports from Chicago are that Lou Piniella is the new manager of the Chicago Cubs and I have no idea what to do with this information.

Frank the Tank (when not watching his StatCounter tally roll over like a long-haul trucker's odometer thanks to the Deadspin love today) was on the e-mail offensive today as we went back and forth over the Cubs and their impending decision. He's saying that this is the right move for the Cubs and I think he might be right, but I was thinking maybe we'd get someone a little less... combustible.

Put it this way, it's not that hard to find a picture of Piniella going off the deep end.

Even the page I found for the picture at the right was a compilation of managers who'd gone apeshit at one point or another. Number Two? The Lee Elia tirade, still a personal favorite.

One the other hand, you'll be replacing Dusty Baker - known for being nearly comatose (not safe to be narcoleptic with a toothpick in your mouth) and a "players' manager" with Sweet Lou, who may have a blood type of gunpowder.

When you have a historically underperforming team, this just seems like a recipe for disaster.

Piniella excused himself from several positions because he's sick of being around rebuilding years with teams that faded fast. I'm really worried about the guy's physical and mental health.

He's not getting any younger and if the Cubs play the way they have - and remain subject to the obscure laws of physics and bad luck known as Cubdom - there's a very real possibility that Piniella could end up in the hospital like the manager in Major League, screaming at a television from a hospital bed.

Still, I'm feeling better already about the Cubs' prospects in 2007 (laugh all you want) because Dustyball wasn't working. While I think that a heavy hand would have been more effective with the team a few seasons ago - primarily to tell Sammy to knock off all of his silly shit - maybe it'll be the shock to the team's system and help to get things back on track for the North Siders.

My real wish is for a solid, injury-resistant arm or four to take the place of the telethon-ready rotation that's been on the opening day roster lately. Let's just hope upper management doesn't hide behind the signing of a new manager and then go dormant until pitchers and catchers report.

I'm not a proponent of "change for change's sake," but when someone isn't getting the job done, there comes a point where you have to shake things up a bit. This is a good start.

Now, excuse me while I gosay a short prayer to keep A-Rod out of the Friendly Confines.

(This posting has been re-posted from the sister site.)

Update: ESPN has the signing as official now (as of 8:30 p.m.) Thank goodness, our long national nightmare is over...

(Photo from ESPN.com)

Cribbing Aaron Sorkin

When the new TV season’s lineups were being pimped by the networks at the end of the summer, there were only a handful of shows that I thought would be worth the time and effort to watch them.

Of those, only a few seemed even remotely new and fresh.

After most of the new lineup has made its debut, I can safely say there’s only one new show I can’t live without. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, having been penned by my favorite television writer and all, but now that 30 Rock has premiered (and fallen flat) I can safely call the competition for Studio 60. It’s not even close.

First off, I thought having two very similar shows was strange to say the least. In a time when America steals its game shows from England (not to mention The Office) it should be expected, but I completely missed the fact that these are both NBC shows.

How does that happen? You have two shows, based on working in the office of a sketch comedy that isn't Saturday Night Live and premiere them on the same network? How stupid is that?

The funny thing is I was prepped to hate Studio 60 with Matthew Perry in a dramatic-ish role andlatch onto 30 Rock with its cast. Couldn't have been more wrong. Aside from Tracy Morgan running around in his underpants claiming to be a Jedi and whacking cars with a light sabre, the pilot sucked pretty hard.

By comparison, I was asking when the first season of Studio 60 was coming out on DVD. After a TiVo issue for the second episode, we bought the iTunes version when the NBC.com feed went a little haywire. That's probably the best compliment I can pay the show - when I missed it, I tried to get a copy and had no problem paying for what's free on TV to keep up.

After a few sour seasons of The West Wing it was nice to have Sorkin back on network TV and I've been a loyal follower since (OK, it's three weeks, but still...)

30 Rock was a big disappointment and I can't see watching another episode on purpose. I'm pretty sure I saw the three jokes play out and I have no real reason to go back.

In all, NBC should have stuck to one of the two and had they asked anyone with an ounce of taste, the decision would have been clear. When you have a drama that's funnier than a comedy, go with the drama.

(Image from: tvsquad.com)

You don't want to know how I find this stuff

I remember pumpkin contests at my old job.

We won pizza once. It was pretty rad.

Check out this link, though.

Some people are sick in the head and they do things to pumpkins that would force me to buy my kid a bag of candy and keep them home on Halloween instead of taking them to the homes of people who do stuff like this.

That said, some of these are really creative though I have two small issues.

1.) I question the safety of installing pyro into a vegetable and blowing a three-foot flame from the top.

2.) I question the sanity of letting a pumpkin rot in a trash bag full of water on your front porch. That just seems like it's a public health violation of some sort.

(Photo from ExtremePumpkins.com)

Revenge of Mr. Irrelevant

The last man picked in every draft is known by football fans as Mr. Irrelevant.

I'm pretty sure most teams don't even know who they're picking at that point. When I play a Madden season, my last pick is usually the lesser of 12 evils, with two offensive linemen and 10 kickers/punters left over to keep me from seeing the actual bottom of the barrel.

I found this gem today through a links page that took a new spin on the topic.

Enjoy an open letter to John Madden from Ethan Albright, the man rated least talented in Madden: 07.

Some things bear repeating

Months back, I wrote a pretty lengthy post about Buck O'Neil and Minnie Minoso when both were shut out from the Hall of Fame that can be found here. I still get sporadic hits on both men, looking for more information on their careers and reasons for or against induction to the Hall.

This weekend, O'Neil passed away at age 94, having fallen one vote shy for Hall of Fame induction this spring, but philosophical to the end.

"Shed no tears for Buck," he said. "I couldn't attend Sarasota High School. That hurt. I couldn't attend the University of Florida. That hurt.

"But not going into the Hall of Fame, that ain't going to hurt me that much, no. Before, I wouldn't even have a chance. But this time I had that chance.

"Just keep loving old Buck."

And people did, right to the end. While there is only one story left on ESPN.com on O'Neil - fittingly enough by Steve Wulf who wrote a touching piece on him that I quoted heavily from in the first post - people are still coming forward with their memories today.

For my small addition to the conversation, I was only around the man once, this summer at a Twins game.

O'Neil's presence pulled cheers from the fans who cheer regardless of the person holding the ball for the first pitch and as those who realized exactly the man was, a standing ovation slowly spread across the crowd.

As O'Neil went through his quick act - undoubtly replayed at ballparks across the country - where he'd wind up, shuffle a few yards closer to the dish, wind again, shuffle again and repeat until he could hand the ball to the catcher, the crowd fell in love with him.

What I'll always remember was watching him make the rounds, shaking hands, saying hello, shuffling from the infield to the right field bullpen, making his way to the elevators in the tunnel in right.

He was old, and there was no way around that fact, but he moved with grace. It was striking to see someone who was the same time that frail and that powerful. I'll just remember him beaming the whole time.

Seeing grown men, from security guards to professional ballplayers, falling all over themselves just to shake his hand, it was pretty amazing just to be in the same building as him.

I won't make too big a deal of any of this, except to say that all of the reports of him lighting up a room were true. It didn't seem to matter if he shared it with a president or if the room seated over 40,000 people. For a fan, it was hard to take your eyes off of him and I missed the first pitch that night watching him cross the field.

I toyed with the idea of running over to try and catch him in the concourse, but figured that I didn't have a shot at timing it right, but now I regret that decision.

For a man who spent so much of his golden years defending how his life lined up when it came to baseball, I'm betting he would have appreciated something like that.

If I had to take anything from the stories I've read and appearances I've seen him make, it's always amazed me how well he's taken everything in stride. Personally, I think there's a lot to be said for playing the cards you're dealt and asking for nothing more than a chance.

It's been oddly comforting to see that he'd shown some flashes of frustration or anger from time to time, but overall he kept an even keel and I find that unendingly admirable.

I can't think of better things to teach a child than to show up, do your best, not to sweat the things you can't change and not to look back on your life with anger or disappointment.

Even while those close to him refused to believe that his heart wasn't broken when the Hall left him out this year, he kept his chin up, kept visiting ballparks and was a fixture in Kansas City. Personally I think another decade of Buck O'Neil wouldn't have been enough and not for his stature as a ballplayer, but for his contributions as a human being.

I'm pretty sure Buck would insist he was right on time.

"There's nothing greater for a human being than to get his body to react to all the things one does on a ball field," O'Neil said. "It's as good as sex; it's as good as music. It fills you up. Waste no tears for me. I didn't come along too early. I was right on time."

- Buck O'Neil
1911-2006

(Photos from ESPN.com / Post-Gazette.com - Philadelphia, Pa.)

Must be something important

So, off the last link I pulled a picture from a site I've been to and forgotten about 20 or 30 times in my life - Hollywood is Calling.

The premise is that for $30 you can have Mr. Belding, Horshack or Timmy (now that Lassie pulled his ass from some God-foresaken well for the 50th time) call your buddies and say hello. For $300 a pop, the Soup Nazi will call in as you open your car wash in the misle of nowhere (which has to be sublimely ridiculous).

I should point out that the four actors named above are the cream of the crop as far as recognizable names go - plenty of pictures for you to say, "Oh, that dude!" - most of them are mid-level on the cool/kitsch factor.

Want to waste 20 minutes of your day? Try and figure out what the unavailable stars are up too on a given day.

Which reminds me, I wonder what Leon Spinks is up to today...

(Photo from HollywoodisCalling.com)

Those Martinez brothers are brutal!

Yes, it's a baseball post away from the sister site, but this was too entertaining to hide over there, so kickass story, welcome to the Mothership.

For a little background, Jeff Kent can be a bit of a pain in the ass (he had a few run-ins with Barry Bonds in San Francisco among other high-profile blowouts) but this story may trump all the others. Additionally, it makes me wonder when someone will be banned from baseball for throwing a game so their fantasy team wins its league.

It seems that Tom Candiotti, a former pitcher who is a TV guy for the Diamondbacks these days, was in a fantasy league when he was in the league and Kent wasn't on his team.

From the San Francisco Chronicle and thanks to Deadspin for putting this on everyone's radar:

"It's '92 or '93," Candiotti says. "I'm playing for the Dodgers, Jeff Kent is with the Mets. I'm in a fantasy baseball league. I don't have Kent on my team and he's off to a torrid start and he's killing me."

The Dodgers are in New York to play the Mets. Ramon Martinez is warming up in the Dodgers' bullpen to pitch the series opener. Candiotti strolls to the pen and, within earshot of Martinez, tells pitching coach Ron Perranoski, "Perry, I just talked to Bret Saberhagen, and Sabes told me that if Kent gets drilled his first time up, he's mush for the rest of the series."

First inning, Kent steps to the plate.

"Ramon just absolutely buries one in Kent's ribs," Candiotti says. "It was so bad that he went down on one knee, and he had to come out of the game. I sat there thinking, 'What did you just do? You told a complete lie, you got this guy drilled!'

"After that, it was funny. Pedro Martinez (Ramon's brother) started drilling Kent, and so did all the other Dominican pitchers. For years, Ramon drilled Kent every time."

I don't know what's funnier, the retelling of this story, the fact that we all suspected it for years or that at some dinner for the Martinez brothers, Ramon tells Petey, "Hey, drill Jeff Kent when you see him. You do that, and he's your bitch all season..."

Guess it'll carry a little more weight next time I yell from the crowd, "Hey, Underperforming major leaguer to be named later! Get your ass in gear, you're killing my fantasy team!"

Chances are, they are killing theirs as well.

(Photo from HollywoodisCalling.com)