The New Guy
Anyhoo, nothing much to say here...glad everything works.
Have a safe and happy one, folks. And if you happen to be in the Lou, stay off the streets. It's never safe to be driving around on New Years Eve, but now that Sir Sidney Ponson calls this city home, well...shit, man...just be careful out there.
Happy 2K6, bitches.
Weekend Debate (Pride?)
If I had balloons to drop from your ceiling, they'd be dropping right now.
Although, I am proud of all of which I have accomplished over these here Internets (a few awards, an insightful, educated, and attractive following, and a few more things which are being held by my waistside for the time being) my family has no idea that I have been acting as a (bad) fake sports-writer for the last few months.
I am not getting paid for it, and I do not expect to make a living from it at any time throughout my existence, but for the last few months, I have had the privilege to do what I love to do for a living while waiting to find real work.
This is what leads me to my question of the weekend:
What is the greatest accomplishment which you have ever achieved, yet not shared it with others for fear of embarrassment?
For example, I have neither told my family that I have been writing articles for a popular webzine for the last few month's, nor have I ever told them that I was awarded a rather high award during my time in the Marine Corps, simply because I don't like boasting about my own accomplishments.
If someone was to talk about my greatness, I would make no attempt to stop them, since it would probably get me laid (and not by the usual assortment of Asian transvestites which have been ringing my doorbell for the last few weeks. Again, I appreciate it, Steve, but enough is enough.) but it's not something I would do on my own.
While my parents do know that I finished second in the Pinewood Derby at St. Phils in 1987, and that I have the ability to peel an orange in one smooth move (leaving the peel completely intact...Probably my coolest talent) they do not know that I once saved a man's life while rappelling in California. Some things just don't get brought up during Easter Brunch.
So what have ya' done?
Beaten Super Mario Brothers Two?
Made a slinky go down fifteen consecutive stairs?
Finished the Century Club in only 50 minutes?
There's got to be something cool out there that you are proud of, but you couldn't imagine anyone else giving two shits about. What is it?
1) The FYC is nominated for Sports Humor Blog of the Year over at The Red Reporter. Head on over there and cast your vote if you're so inclined. I voted for Joe Sports Fan, but whatever. I'm already satisfied knowing that I already have the same amount of votes as the geniuses over at Yard Work.
2) There's a blog out there which has always tickled my fancy, but for whatever reason, I have never pimped it on this here little waste of bandwidth: The Krimilian. I got the link from the aforementioned Joe Sports Fan, and I'm still not really sure what the overall "scene" of the site is, but it has generally always left me throroughly entertained.
3) For all of you St. Louisians who may be interested in it, tonight marks the continuation of my Thursday Night Drinking Society (TNDS) Winter 2K5-2K6 Tour.
Tonight's stop will be at Cousin Hugo's on Laclede Station. This is the fourth stop on an ongoing tour of the Saint Louis area's finest shady hole-in-the-wall bars. Previously, stops have been made at The Tin Can Tavern and Grill, Trueman Place's, and Riley's Pub.
If you are interested in joining the tour, and possess a hardy attitude and are privy to libations, grandstanding, and horseplay, come on out and meet us. I'll be the guy in the Cardinals sweatshirt and California Angles hat. Let me warn you, I presently do not have what most consider a "voice" so don't expect any sort of conversation.
Or do expect one and get your hopes dashed. Maybe that's your bag. And who the hell am I to rain on your parade?
4) I was excited to make up some of those year end FYC-zeis awards, but I haven't gotten around to do it yet, and I'm going to be traveling up to Peoria in the next few days for my Uncle's funeral (more on that later....maybe) so the awards are on the proverbial back burner for now. Sorry.
5) Year end round up of the best articles over at The Phat Phree. Head on over there to voice your displeasure for the lack of articles by yours truly (or, maybe I could just write funnier articles) and also send out a vicious "boo-hiss" for my personal favorite article from the past year, Ben Lambert's "All Hail the Smoothie King," not making the list.
I'll get back to you all sometime early next year.
Have a safe, happy, and festive New Years Eve...and no matter how drunk you get off of Champagne toasts and jungle juice, remember to pull out, dude.
Nobody needs babies in '06.
It was December 24th on Hollis Ave in the dark
When I see a man chilling with his dog in the park
I approached very slowly with my heart full of fear
Looked at his dog, oh my God, an ill reindeer
But then I was illin because the man had a beard
And a bag full of goodies, 12 o'clock had neared
So I turned my head a second and the man had gone
But he left his driver's wallet smack dead on the lawn
I picket the wallet up then I took a pause
Took out the license and it cold said 'Santa Claus'
A million dollars in it, cold hundreds of G's
Enough to buy a boat and matching car with ease
But I'd never steal from Santa, cause that ain't right
So I'm going home to mail it back to him that night
But when I got home I bugged, cause under the tree
Was a letter from Santa and all the dough was for me
It's Christmas time in Hollis Queens
Mom's cooking chicken and collard greens
Rice and stuffing, macaroni and cheese
And Santa put gifts under Christmas trees
Decorate the house with lights at night
Snow's on the ground, snow white so bright
In the fireplace is the yule log
Beneath the mistle toe as we drink egg nog
The rhymes you hear are the rhymes of Darryl's
But each and every year we bust Chrsitmas carrols
Rhymes so loud and prod you hear it
It's Christmas time and we got the spirit
Jack Frost chillin, the ?orchas out?
And that's what Christmas is all about
The time is now, the place is here
And the whole wide world is filled with cheer
My name's D.M.C. with the mic in my hand
And I'm chilling and coolin just like a snowman
So open your eyes, lend us an ear
We want to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Merry Christmas to you, too, Run DMC.
And Happy Holidays to you and yours.
If you like it, vote highly. If you don't like it, go eff yourself.
Just remember: I love you.
Which is why I surprised myself on Sunday. The Lady Friend and I were in Indianapolis for a wedding over the weekend (if you're scoring at home, that's the third weekend in a row we've done on the wedding circuit. December weddings? P.U.) While I was talking to some dudes at the wedding reception Saturday evening, the conversations would always steer towards talking about the Colts. And, again, while I'm not exactly a football fan, per se, I try to know enough to keep up a conversation.
And after talking about the Horseshoes for an entire evening, I found myself seriously enjoying the conversations. There was something about the passion for their team that all of the fans in Indy had...very reminiscent of a late August night outside of Busch Stadium...like all the while the only thing going through their heads was a scrolling banner saying "Colts Colts Colts Colts Colts Manning Colts Colts Edge Colts Colts Marvin Colts Colts Colts Manning Colts." Something which, as a fan, I could relate to. And enjoy (although, maybe that was the free Killian's doing the thinking for me. Maybe.)
That next morning, as TLF and I dined on the Marriott's finest selection of melons and tea at our hotel about two blocks up from the RCA Dome, home of the AFC leading Indianapolis Colts, we could see the fans marching towards the stadium; jerseys on, beers open, 10:30 in the morning. I sat there, in my room, and I took it all in. And that's when I realized, it's not football itself which has me down on the game...It's the city of St Louis, and, to be more precise, the St Louis Rams.
The Rams, right now, remind me a lot of the early-90's St Louis Cardinals. Glimpses of promise from time to time, but overall, mediocrity reigns supreme. And that has more to do with my current football malaise than the Packers being one of the worst teams in the NFL (Hell we may just end up with Reggie Bush wearing Green and Yellow next year because of it!)
The Rams went 8-8 last year to make (or as many would say stumble into) the playoffs, and the general reaction throughout the city was "The Rams are in the playoffs? Don't they stink?" And then the Rams even won their first playoff game, and again the general reaction was "The Rams won a playoff game? They stink." It's as if most people just don't really care.
Adding in the fact that the Rams play in one of the most depressing and atmospherically dead football arenas ever doesn't help matters. Throw in the additional fact that they, in all of their glorious mediocrity, are almost always the NFC game of the week in the St Louis TV market on Sundays and, yes, it makes perfect sense why I haven't really been following football all that closely for the last two years.
I'm pretty sure if I lived in Chicago, or Indianapolis, or even Seattle, I would be singing a different tune. Hell, it only took one weekend in Indy for me to listen to the majority of a Colts game on the radio while driving back to St Louis Sunday afternoon. And listening to football on the radio is something which I have rarely, if ever, done in the past.
Of course, the Colts went on to lose their first game of the year while I was listening, so I don't know what that's supposed to tell me.
Weekend Debate (Hangover Edition)
First and foremost: I feel like butt. Way too many pints of Blue Moon last night. But, that is what Thursdays are for. Drinking. Thursday night is far and away the best night of the week for going out. It doesn't have the pressure to be cool like a Friday or Saturday night does. Just grab some friends, head to the nearest bar, and let the good times roll.
(note to StLer's - Riley's Pub on Arsenal is a fantastic little place. Free pizza from 8-9. Free jukebox. $2.75 Pints. Good times, great oldies.)
So if you want a serious debate, go chime in on last Friday's edition. Because I'm hungover and laying in bed for the day, we're keeping this weekend's debate light and breezy.
Here's what I want to know from you, the loyal and good looking FYC reader: What's your favorite breakfast?
I was a cereal man for a long time, but sometime in the last four years I've melted into a champion for omelets. Preferably with cheddar and tomatoes. And a slice of honeydew (the money melon) on the side. And lots of coffee.
That's my meal. What's yours?
"Have A Great Summer!"
Awkward-Looking-Teenage-Albert-Pujols would like to welcome to St. Louis the Cardinals newest relief pitcher (and future 8th inning extraordinaire), Braden Looper:
I hope your season with us is better than my Adam Morrison-esque mustache!
Get ready for some curtain calls! These fans are nutzz, dawg!
Have a great summer, man!
BFFL (best friendz for life),
PS. Don't let So Taguchi's calling you 'whitebread' and 'cracker' get to you. He's kind of a jerk. And surprisingly racist."
Four, Count 'Em Four, Quick Thoughts
- 8:10 - Calexico begins. They, per usual, are solid. Their music makes me look more and more exicitedly (is that a word?) towards my Mexico trip next month.
- 9:10 - Calexico wraps up. Some dude named Salvadore takes the stage and proceeds to strum his guitar while making animal noises (I'm not making that up) for three songs. Not cool.
- 9:30 - Iron & Wine takes the stage and gently lulls the audience to sleep. All is well.
- 10:45 - Calexico joins Iron & Wine on stage for a rocking little five song set. Sweeeet.
All in all, a good show. The venue, Mississippi Nights, was way too small for the show (probably should have been at The Pageant) but that is my only real complaint. I give it four (out of five) thumbs up.
2) I noticed a nice little bump in visitors to my crappy blog last night, and after a little bit of research, noticed that someone(s) had nominated me for some sort of Sports Blog Award over at "The Red Reporter."
Whomever(s) nominated me over there...Thank you very much.
To this guy, I say...I'm sorry that I have apparently offended you.
Anyhoo...as far as I'm concerned the best blogs are:
Humor - Joe Sports Fan
General - Deadspin
MLB - Viva El Birdos
And that's all I have to say about that.
3) As long as awards are being given out all over these here Internets, why don't I have some awards?
What's that you say? I should have some? And I should call them the FYC-zeis?
Well, then, the i's have it...sometime in the next two weeks or so, the first annual FYC-zeis will be awarded.
Now all I need is some nominations. A little help here, folks? Drop your ideas off in the comments section if you're so inclined.
4) If the Cardinals drop millions on Jacque Jones...well, fuck...I don't know what I'll do...but it won't be effing pretty.
Fox Hat? Elf You.
Also, doesn't the guy in the ad look like a Conan O'Brien "If They Mated" of Tim Robbins and Greg Kinnear?
I find it mildly amusing. You may, too.
For a funnier (in my opinion) clip, check out the great Alec Baldwin skewing his classic character "Blake" from Glengarry Glen Ross in last week's SNL. If you have never seen the movie before (shame on you) the skit will probably make absolutely no sense what-so-ever. If you have seen it (good job), "elf you."
"I got here on a talking moose...THAT'S MY NAME."
Many thanks as always to Ace from Slack LaLane for bringing that one to my attention.
The debate continues on the smoking ban. Drop your two cents in there if you haven't already. I'm really digging the debate. Me thinks "Weekend Debate" may catch on around here. Deal?
Off to an Iron & Wine & Calexico concert tonight down at Mississippi Nights.
I saw Calexico open up for Wilco last Fall and they were pretty damn good.
But it's long time FYC favorite Iron & Wine that I'm pretty pumped to see. As long as they're not handing out pillows at the door (Iron & Wine makes me sleepy. And romantic.) it should be a good show.
Till next time, kids.
I'm still against the man telling me when/where I can light up if I want to, but if a restaurant/bar workers union (and/or patrons, even) were to organize a protest/strike in order to have their respective restaurant owners curtail smoking in their establishments, I would completely and totally support them.
(Man alive, there sure were a bunch of /'s in that sentence/paragraph, huh?)
That's my decision. Don't like it? Too bad.
RIP Wilma Eckert. Loving wife, accomplished softball player, noted Bingo-er, and staunch Ray King hater.
Best obit I've seen in quite some time. Redbird Nation will miss ya, Wilma.
The FYC wishes a fond farewell to Richard Pryor, who passed away Saturday at the age of 65.
I had perhaps more in common with Pryor than I did with any other celebrity. We were both born in raised in Peoria, Illinois. As children, we both lived in brothels operated by our Grandmothers. Ummm...we were both married multiple times. And, we both lit ourselves on fire while free-basing cocaine. We were both black men. We both have daughters named Rain.
Alright, so besides being from Peoria, we didn't really have anything in common. Whatever.
As far as I am concerned, Pryor is the funniest comedian who ever performed. Turning pain and rage into comedic genius, nothing was off limits. Tremendous, tremendous man.
Also, Superman III was awesome.
To quote Luciano:
"I understand the idea that it's poor form for smokers to blast tobacco clouds inside, say, a maternity ward. But other places aren't so obvious, such as restaurants and pubs.
You could argue that the free market - remember that? - should decide whether a smoke-filled eatery should survive. But I'd sacrifice restaurants to save smoking in taverns.
Saloons aren't known for healthy lifestyles or behavior. You won't find treadmills or stair-climbers next to the beer coolers and poker machines."
I, for one, hate the government being able to pass a law banning a legal activity inside of private enterprises. Me thinks it's a case of the gov overstepping their boundaries.
I realize that second hand smoke is a health concern to those who do not smoke, but if you really don't want to be around it, go to a non-smoking bar. If none of those exist where you live, open one. I'm sure a lot of other non-smokers would go to it and you would make a bunch of money.
So here is my question for you, loyal readers: Smoking bans...yeah or nay?
Leave a comment below if you have an opinion (or if you're one of the readers who come here looking for "Fucking in the stadium" or "Mike Lervaag", don't)
Hot Stove? Try Piss Warm Stove.
The Cardinals came into the offseason with a few needs which were clear to everyone. A front line starting pitcher, one (if not two) corner outfielders, a second baseman, and some help out in the bullpen.
Here is a rundown of players who had been targeted (supposedly)
AJ Burnett? He's up in Toronto.
Brian Giles? Staying in San Diego.
Juan Pierre? Running the bases for the Cubbies.
Mark Loretta? He's coming to Boston for the springtime.
Alfonso Soreiano? Washington, DC.
Mark Grudzelainckneckack? Not in St Louis, anymore.
Bobby Abreu? If he lands in the Loo, I will eat my hat.
Barry Zito? That'd be nice.
Nomar Garciaparra? Not unless "Two Guys, A Girl, And A Pizza Place" comes back on the air.
Larry Fucking Bigbie? St. Louis. Great.
Just fucking great.
Some great off season moves so far by the Cardinals. Nearly half of the damn team from last year has already left town. The Cardinals ownership were selling every thing from the now deceased Busch II, and yet payroll still stays put at $90 Mil.
They're selling urinals and god damn used ketchup containers from the old stadium to turn a buck, and they still can't sign a decent second baseman?
We're going to be stuck with Luis Alicia at second next year, aren't we?
I've always trusted Cardinal's GM Walt Jocketty before, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's got an ace up his sleeve to surprise all of us with, but this stingy ownership group is starting to fucking get to me.
As always, the voice of reason is in the back of my head letting me know that "you're getting way too worked up about baseball. It's fucking December, Al...Lighten up. You should be worrying about what CDs you want for Christmas or what day is St. Nickalous day (anyone out there know?); or, if you really need to get worked up about sports your beloved Packers are horrible. Worry about them. Or about how Illinois' Basketball team is extremely vulnerable right now. Actually, why don't you worry about the fact that you don't have a fucking job? That should be more important, shouldn't it?"
Yeah, it should...but Larry Fucking Bigbie? That's precisely what we need.
Sweet Jebus Fuck, man.
They keep trying, but stupid Big Mac land is still there. Yeah, I'm still a little bitter that I never got a free Big Mac.
Tickets! Get Your Tickets!
Stan's still there. I never cared for this statue. I believe it supports bad posture. Which I don't.
Now if we can just get AJ Burnett and Bobby Abreu, we'll be all set.
(Oh, and congrats to the Yankees on signing Kyle "The Basket" Farnsworth. Not only will he lead the AL in crotch size next year, he normally provides his own gas can in order to help his team go up in flames. Enjoy.)