Saturday, June 30, 2012
Reported sightings of Howard at BK seem accurate. The dude must have put on 20 pounds of straight lard over the off-season. I guess the best way to heal an Achilles injury is to put as much weight on it as possible. I fear for our first base defense.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
A powerful man walked confidently into Nello- the most expensive restaurant on Madison Avenue- and scanned the audience looking for his protégé. He wore a power blue suit, with power striped shirt containing a power red tie and he was wearing power Italian loafers. His hear was slicked back as was the usual and carried himself like royalty. To the outsider he seemed like an insufferable prick, but to those who knew him well, he was a bigger insufferable prick, but also the best razzle dazzle man in the business.
After taking power strides through the restaurant Vince McMahon arrived at the private booth where David Stern was patiently waiting for him.
“Dave, you Jew bastard, how the hell are ya?”
Standing up David Stern reached out and shook the WWE’s outstretched hand and smiled broadly. “Vinny, you greasy Mick, glad you made it.”
“Anything for you, you know that.”
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Those of you that know me well may be aware that I consider HBO's Girls to be the worst, most overrated show on television. The season's fourth episode, in which Hannah tries to force herself on her creepy boss and then inexplicably quits her job, was perhaps the most terrible half hour of television I've ever had the misfortune of watching.
That said, I was content to hate-watch the show in private, and contain my ravings within the sphere of a few friends. Then I read this.
Let's first of all note the unbelievable irony that three women were enlisted to talk about the first season of a show entitled Girls, and somehow spent the whole time talking about a boy. Whether that's an indictment of the vapidness, inconsistency, and lack of interesting features of the girls portrayed on the show, or a sad statement about the mindsets of the women writing the article, I'm not sure. But either way, it's not good.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
What a month. It started with such promise and unbridled enthusiasm and it quickly dissolved into a river of shit. But no one should be surprised by this slump. Just like Rome all dynasty’s end; some more quickly than others.
The Phillies have remarkably very little offensive talent. Despite an MVP season from Chooch and an average start by Hunter Pence there is no one else in the lineup who frightens even the most pedestrian pitcher. The starting rotation was blessed with almost unprecedented health last year, it was unfair to expect results like that again. And our bullpen was terrific last year despite relying on David Herndon, Michael Stutes and Antonio Bastardo. This year they have reverted back to form.
But it’s safe to say that the main reason for the Phillies struggles can be placed directly on one man’s shoulders; mine. Yes, one of the many drawbacks of being a famous internet sports journalist and noted Lothario my words are read by on average dozen(s) of people. So when I made the Phillies my World Series Champs in the preseason I was painting a large bull’s-eye on their back for the whole season. As expected they have crumbled under that enormous weight. To make matters worse what I thought were steroids that I was handing out before games turned out to be horse tranquilizers. Needless to say I’ve fired Crazy Nico as my go to drug connect.