Friday, December 19, 2008

Question...

I got into a car accident last Wednesday around 11pm, on my way home from my part-time job. I wasn't hurt at all, but my car was -- to the point that I had to escape from the passenger side. I can honestly now say that I love oversized American cars, because I truly believe that the girth of my beloved vessel is what protected me from serious injury. Since I'm sure you all REALLY want to know how it all went down, allow me to illustrate in most unnecessary fashion:

So, I'm sitting completely still at a red light -- grooving to the smooth tunes of John Legend and minding my business -- when suddenly...

BAM!!!

This Chevy SUT (Sports Utility Truck) slams into the front quarter panel on my driver's side. I saw it happening... I even thought to myself "Self: that chap is turning AWFULLY wide right now -- does he realize how close he is to... OH SHHHHHHH"

Or something to that effect. Honked my horn quite vigorously, but that just didn't seem to alert him to the impending collision. Naturally, my mortal limitations wouldn't have allowed me to do much more than I had (ed. note: Nothing like a shiny set of headlights coming directly at you to make you find religion... momentarily). I wish that I could illustrate the manner in which his mechanical behemoth of a truck bulldozed my little schooner of a car. To say that his right turn was lacking something would be a veritable understatement. It was more like veering onto a non-existent off-ramp than an actual right turn.
I guess some people just don't like John Legend.

I couldn't open my door at all, and had to climb out the passenger side. No injury, save for the brief discomfort in my ribcage that was likely caused by tensing my abdominal muscles while bracing for impact. My hood, fender, headlight, front quarter panel and door all need to be repaired and/or replaced -- at minimum... and who knows what internal damage was done? Then again, I suppose that the same could be said for me! Making things even more thrilling was the fact that I had to leave early the next day to get an iridotomy on my right eye. Oh, what fun!

So, I finally get the call from the body shop regarding the estimated repairs and... ouch -- $5,500. Not sexy at all. I'm almost surprised that they're even going to bother fixing it. Fortunately, this is why I pay $124 every month for car insurance. My "good neighbor" will be paying for my repairs, and subsequently pursuing the offender's insurance carrier for remuneration (aka subrogation).

So here's the question: to sue or not to sue?

Several parties have advised that I seek medical attention and proceed to sue the responsible party. Granted, his insurance could likely settle matters expeditiously and cut me a check -- but why? Should I sue if I (seemingly) wasn't hurt? His insurance will fix my car and likely reimburse me for what was spent out of pocket on the rental... so why sue? I'm not the most religious guy around, but I do put some credence in karma -- and I'm not talking about Ludacris' daughter.

We've become a "sue first, ask questions later" nation, and it's a little disheartening. If my judgment were to exceed the liability limits of his insurance policy, his personal property would then be at stake. His car, house and other personal effects could become involved. Perhaps even garnished wages? I'm no legal expert, but after several years in the auto insurance industry, I'm fully aware that a large settlement could literally destroy this guy's life.

So the real question is: why didn't I just go to whocanisue.com instead of asking you people?

Oh, yes -- because I have a heart. If you don't like it, then sue me.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

The Aftermath

It was extremely quiet in the office today. So quiet that people could probably hear my thoughts... and why is that? Because many people are admittedly angry that McCain lost. It's actually a bit incredulous.

What's more incredulous is a bit of commentary by a CNN analyst. To paraphrase: African-Americans don't have anything to complain about anymore... really? I'm glad that I didn't catch it live, because the rageaholic in me would've reacted poorly in that heightened state of emotion. I think it's utterly preposterous to say such a thing. That guy obviously doesn't know what it feels like to think that you got turned down for a job or rejected by a girl because of the color of your skin. He doesn't know how it feels to know that the person that you're walking behind is scared to death because he/she thinks you might try something. He's never been pulled over for DWB... and although I cannot directly relate to this aspect (since my family just got here in the late 70s/early 80s), he doesn't know what it's like to hear stories from your grandparents about the beatings, water hoses, marches, segregated bathrooms and general refusal of the "man" to treat you as anything but the crud in the grooves of his insole.

And this was barely 40 years ago. It's still as fresh for the older generations as a crispy new $1 bill.

Obama will not change everything in 4-8 years... but his election is a sign of promise. It shows that America in general is willing to change. Blacks are only 12-13% of the population, but a man of biracial decent was still elected to the presidency of this nation -- which means a lot of people with blue & green eyes pushed that button next to his name. If you looked at the crowds during the speeches last night, you surely noticed the MARKED difference in the racial composition... about as different as a Tim McGraw concert from Lil Wayne's live performances.

I hope that the entire nation follows their lead and sets aside partisan conflict long enough to address some of our most pressing needs. Health care, economy, war in Iraq, immigration, housing/credit crises, etc. That should be the focus... not whether Barack is a Muslim (he's not, morons!), whether his ex-pastor is an idiot (he is -- we agree!) or any other insignificant topics. Like it or not, he's been tapped to serve next and he's standing in the on-deck circle. Let's get behind him and maybe -- just maybe -- we'll see the beginnings of a return to greatness.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

44th US President

Barack Obama.

Yes we fucking can.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

2008 MLB Champs

The Phillies just won. Good grief, the Phillies just won.

I just became a baseball fan this year... and I took a leap of faith and rode with the Phillies.

It hurt me to do so, as a Dallas Cowboys fan. The Philadelphia Eagles are BIGTIME rivals and it made me feel like a turncoat. Despite a rough start, the Phillies managed to make it to the playoffs -- and that's where the magic happened.

After a wacky Game 5 (which essentially took 3 days), the Philadelphia Phillies have won it all. Never before have you seen such a great return on a sports investment. NEVER.

I may have no voice for work tomorrow... but that's all the better reason to ignore my constituents.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled coherent blog.

Sky High

If you'll refer to my last post, you'll understand when I tell you that my job isn't terribly engaging. I mean, don't get me wrong -- crunching numbers all day is a much better task than digging graves or being a mortgage broker right now -- but unless I'm talking to one of my many co-workers, I often find myself less than fulfilled.

So how have I kept sane over the last 18 months? Why that's quite elementary, my dear Watson -- I get high as shit... on MUSIC. Rage Against the Machine, The Game, T.I. ("Live Your Life" is audio crack), John Legend (can't stop nodding my head to "Green Light"), Raheem Devaughn ("Try Again" -- been there), Jill Scott, N.E.R.D., Ledisi, Dru Hill (I've lived "One Good Reason"), Gnarls Barkley, Robin Thicke (uhhh... "Magic" anyone?), Usher, Alicia Keys, Chrisette Michele ("Like A Dream" is a great 1st track), Bob Marley and soooo many more artists keep my mind engaged, my lips moving and my facial muscles contorting into a smile all day long.

I love music. I've only reached the tip of the iceberg. There are so many different genres and artists that I've yet to experience. I love reading my buddy Dr. Snob's profile because I always learn about some new artist of whom I'd never previously heard... such a beautiful thing. (Note to Dr. Snob: Please don't stop, because I need my fix -- thanks!)

I believe it when people say that music is the international language. Whether it's the melody, instruments, arrangement and/or lyrics, the great songs always find a way to stand out in the crowd of dull, uninspired drivel that has inundated the airwaves.

Maybe it's Travis Barker on the drums or Luther's smooth, effortless vocals that do it for you. Doesn't matter. At the end of the day, the music must speak to you. To your life, experiences, dreams, failures, successes, fears... good music should speak to you. It should make you sing, dance, cry, smile, frown, reminisce, scrutinize... it should just make you feel something inside. There is nothing like the goosebumps I get when I hear a great song.

Not to mention, I'll be too busy zoning out to realize that I want to choke out the account manager on the other end of my e-mail.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

So Tired

I know, I know -- where the hell have I been? I can't tell you how many times I've actually had some semblance of something to say, but just didn't have the energy or desire to sit in front of my PC long enough to express them to you. You see, here's the problem: I have 2 jobs now and I barely have enough time to call my own mama.

My main job is that of an underwriter. Essentially, I spend the entire day analyzing claims, monitoring trends, evaluating risk, running data through formulas and generally being bored to death. It's not the sexiest job in the world, but it certainly pays the bills -- I mean, I've never loved OT so much as I do right now -- and it's a pretty stable gig. The two promotions that I've received in the last 8 months have certainly been a huge morale boost. I got tired of selling insurance, so working this industry in a different capacity has been a fantastic change of pace. Unfortunately, I do not see a great deal of room to grow beyond my current position and will have to re-evaluate my career path if I choose to remain with my current employer. I've always had an EXTREME love affair with linguistics, and that's something that I'd like to revisit in the near future.

My part-time gig finds me at one of those big home improvement places, in the simplest of roles -- as a cashier. I don't have to sell a damn thing, I just have to know how to ring the shit up... and considering I spend the entire day using actuarially-driven factors and formulas to predict risk & estimate future medical and dental insurance costs -- well, ringing up wood & bricks just doesn't feel so hard. Now, I know what you're probably thinking: "Man, that shit is awesome! You probably get a sick discount for all your household needs!" Well to you, I quote the great Charlie Murphy by saying this: "WRONG! WRONG!!"

I get no discount of any sort. While I was initially pissed, I realized that this is a good thing because I will not blow my extra paycheck on storm doors and bathtubs. Instead, I will pay extra on my bills and put extra in my savings account -- which was the reason I got the job in the first place. The only drawback is that I don't know how much longer my mind & body can sustain the 65-hr work weeks. This shit was cool 5 years ago, but now I'm about ready to pull out my own spleen and feed it to myself. Continuing the promotion trend, they seem to want to promote me to head cashier after only 3+ months. We'll see how it goes...

All in all, I'm doing just fine. My bank account is no longer bulimic and I've been able to perform a few home improvement projects on my own (man, I wish you could experience the greatness that is my new shower head). Can't really complain about a little forward progress, now can I?

Now if the Phillies would just hurry up and win this damn championship, everything would just be peachy.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Peek-a-boo!

How on Earth have you all been? I feel like I've been gone for years! I've been busier than a hooker on payday and just haven't had much time to post. Unfortunately, I bit the bullet and picked up a second gig. I know what you're thinking -- "WTF?!?!?" Yeah, so am I. I work many 14-15 hour days, raise my dog for about 15-20 minutes and sleep for about 25 seconds per night (Ed: That's a Dave Chappelle reference, in case you've not had the pleasure of watching "For What It's Worth"). Basically, I just figured it was time to buckle down and attack my opponent (debt) like a political ad.

Speaking of which, have you been keeping up with politics? I don't normally indulge much in it myself, but with the upcoming elections I felt that it would only be right to pay a little attention. I can summarize my experience thus far, as such:

I really hate political ads.

It has been very interesting and I'm looking forward to the elections. I can't wait to see how things turn out in November... but Alicia Keys wants me to vote for Barack Obama -- and who am I to disappoint her?

Exactly.

***Note: I had to stop writing for about 5 minutes because I was entranced by a combination of Alicia Keys, Gabrielle Union, Keri Hilson, Lauren London and Ashanti's delectable frames on 106 & Park... whew.

I mean, that's a lot of sexy for one man to absorb in a short span of time. While I'm at it, how about Paula Patton? I was mesmerized when I saw "Idlewild." Seriously. I could continue on this tangent forever, but I'll end it with this: you know that woman is doing it something serious for her husband to write a song like "Lost Without U" about her...***

I really hate political ads.

Overall, I'm feeling pretty good these days. Making big plans for the future and taking steps toward achieving the brand of professional success that I've been seeking has been gratifying. I still have a way to go, but I'm certainly on the right track. I'm eager to see where...

I really hate political ads.

...things go from here. I mean, I'm no Daunte Culpepper -- I won't quit. I'll ride the bench on a CFL squad before I give up.

I really hate political ads.

So what have you wonderful people been doing (besides avoiding BET like the black plague)?

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Maybe It's Not So Bad After All...


I've been having somewhat of a crisis as of late... unable to determine what my lot is in life. Often, I feel as if my double-degree in Marketing & International Business is more useless than R. Kelly in a room full of 40 year-old women. I mean, what exactly am I supposed to be doing? Should I be going door-to-door with Jehovah's witnesses? Should I be the guy that gets your bowling ball un-stuck? Or should I be wiring your next house for you? I really don't know, but I know that I have to learn the difference between what I'm good at and/or have the capacity to learn and what it is that I actually love/want to do.

I love language... particularly those of the romance variety. I've studied French, Spanish and Italian -- and was a semester shy of starting Portuguese. I've also learned the English language pretty darn well over the years. I'm good at math -- but I suppose I'd have to be, otherwise I'd be the worst insurance underwriter in the history of mankind (not to mention my mother is the assistant manager of a bank and my father was an engineer). I'm a passable salesperson (isn't that what all Marketing majors are encouraged to do?) but I hate it more than those GEBCO commercials... which I suppose J.O. can film in abundance, now that he's retired.

Anyway, I'm going to keep working on figuring out this thing they call life. I predict that I'll find my way back to D.C. someday where I will trot the globe doing something fancy for the World Bank, IMF or some other international outfit with a sweet name or sick initials. I mean, I doesn't IMF almost sound bad-ass until you actually find out what it represents? Seriously, just imagine this convo:

Guy: Yo, Abe! What you up to these days?
Abe: I'm working for the IMF, muthafucka!?!
Guy: Oh shit, word? What is that?
Abe: The INTERNATIONAL MONETARY FUND, kid! What you know about that shit?
Guy: Oh. That's... hot. Yeah. So.... nice seeing you, anyway. Later.

Perhaps that's just my imagination, anyway. It runs away from me on occasion. Either way, I'm pretty sure that conversation could've gone better for me.

So how did I choose my majors, you ask? Well, as I stated before I like language... and I like trying to figure out how people's brains work. So I thought I found a decent combination. Perhaps I did, but something tells me that I missed the mark because Marketing figures out the human mind for the sake of circumventing naturally-occurring mental safeguards for the sole purpose of selling something. As for International Business... well, most companies just tend not to care. At least I have articles like this one to soothe my trouble mind & soul. Perhaps I'm not alone...

First thing that came to mind after reading that is: Thank goodness I'm agnostic, can't paint and don't smoke cigarettes. I've been considering a Master's degree, but I'm damn sure not wasting thousands upon thousands of dollars on yet another worthless sheet of engraved paper. I want to truly figure myself out and proceed accordingly. Any advice?

Monday, April 28, 2008

Ode to Old Bay


You've remained in the shadows, rejecting all praise due
You season my crabs, shrimp and of course, my chicken
Too.. I've never taken the proper time to really thank you,
Because my fingers, I'm just too busy lickin'
Off your delicious residue, traces of your loving touch
Who'd have known a simple spice could've made such
A difference? Simple ignorance on my part
To have so long neglected you just breaks my heart.
But I'm here to make things right
In fact, I'm going to start tonight
By sprinkling your salty essence all over everything on my plate
'Til my neighbor has to come by and resuscitate
Me. Your delicious, not-too-much sodium composition
Is competition even for Sweet Potato biscuits, and
Signifies summertime like only Will Smith can
We go back to early childhood like those slap wrist-bands
So I hope you never again experience such neglect when
You so effortlessly season my grub to perfection.

Here's looking at you, "Ol' Bay"

*
*
*
*
I hope y'all know I was just fuckin' around.
"It's a celebration, bitches... drink up -- be merry!!"

I don't normally do this...

...but this video was awesome. All you Internet addicts should check it out here, embedded on my buddy Erika2k4's page.

Enjoy.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Guess Who's Back?

**Click here for the unofficial theme music & VERY unofficial video for this post -- talk about an official track!**

I'm back (and not much) better than ever!

Thank you for the 6.15 people that actively read this thing of mine. It's fun having a place where I can come and vent my most random thoughts. I don't even always know what about to come out of my mind and spill onto these web pages (case in point), but I know that you know that I know that you know that I appreciate your "viewership" -- if you will. I know I've been gone for awhile, but I guess I needed to recharge my blogging batteries and actually let a few things happen in my life so that I'd have something to talk about. It's great to finally post -- I missed reading your comments (all 3 of them).

Here's what's been on my mind recently:

- Just last week, I purchased a puggle (male pug/female beagle mix) and despite his penchant for chewing everything in sight (include my extremities and clothing), I've grown somewhat fond of the young chap. To top it all off -- we've named him Dallas. What a fitting name for the future Cowboys fan, wouldn't you say? Well, I think I've almost got him potty-trained... but I'm working on the commands now. We've got "sit" down -- everything else to go!

- Yesterday, I got a promotion at work -- about time! I've only been there about a year, but I am not just tooting my own horn when I tell you that I'm one beast of an underwriter. Of course, I'm only not kidding. Seriously, I joke -- but I soak this shit up like a tampon in a lake. Of course, this all only means that I'll be working more difficult cases, but be paid slightly more to do so... so I'd say it's a fair trade-off in the end. Come see me once I take over the healthcare industry -- I'd love to hear your thoughts on reform (lol).

- Sadly, I probably haven't been to the gym since the last time I posted a blog (read: about one month ago). I have to work on that. Big time. I'm trying to get my chisel on, son!

- Isn't it sick that gas is so expensive now? I swear I applied for a fuel loan at the pump last week and got denied because of insufficient collateral. I don't know how much longer my wallet can absorb the astronomical oil prices at this rate of increase! If I didn't work 16 miles away, I swear I'd get a 10-speed & a poncho and call it a day.

- The Final Four was a huge surprise. Absolutely destroyed my bracket (in the worst way possible) -- but I'm alright with it. I love surprises... I also loved that gutsy 3-pointer that Mario Chalmers launched up to tie the game and send it to OT (for the subsequent victory). Better yet, I found myself thoroughly enjoying the women's tournament as well. Congrats to the Kansas Jayhawks and the Tennessee Lady Vols, respectively (of course).

- I'm still not 100% decided on who I'll be voting for in the upcoming primaries.

Anyway, that's about all for now... I'll be back again (sooner than last time, anyway) with more of my personal brand of madness.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Wrestlemania XXIV


XXIV = 24, for the Roman numerically-challenged.

That's right -- I'm a wrestling fan, born and raised. It's in my blood. I enjoy it and watch it on a different level than most. I can break things down that you wouldn't believe, considering that match endings are choreographed. Let's just say this: it's a man's soap opera, and I'm a man who enjoys it.

Now with that being said, I understand that the quality (read: WWE) has deteriorated greatly in the past few years; however, the "Super Bowl" of wrestling aka Wrestlemania is rapidly approaching and there is a media frenzy around it. Why is that, you ask? Simple: "Pretty Boy" Floyd Mayweather, Jr. is participating in a match this year.

Yes -- you read that right. He's fighting in a few weeks... and it made me think about the other times that athletes from other professions have dared to enter the squared circle. This is what I've found:

I'd forgotten all about Muhammad Ali jumping into the ring against Antonio Inoki, the Japanese wrestling equivalent of Hulk Hogan. The match was so stiff that Ali actually spent time in the hospital afterward due to the blood clots that he developed in his legs from all the hard kicks. Inoki allegedly was kicking him extra hard because he was frustrated that they couldn't come to an accord on how the match would end. Apparently, Ali didn't learn his lesson and decided to go back for more in a fight against Gorilla Monsoon soon thereafter. One airplane spin later, Cassius Clay put the boots away for good.

Joe Louis is another boxing great who took his shot at the squared circle. He wasn't very good, but his career didn't end until he had a match with a rather clumsy wrestler who plopped down on him in such an awkward fashion that he actually injured Joe's heart. As you would imagine, his physician naturally (and soundly) suggested that he look elsewhere for his next paycheck.

Now, we have "Pretty Boy" Floyd aka "Money" Mayweather (159 lbs) getting ready to square off against "The Big Show" Paul Wight (441 lbs). What is the over-under that Floyd is going to be the next to get legitimately injured in some way (especially by that behemoth mountain of a man who is probably none-too-happy that Floyd is allegedly receiving a $20 million paycheck for his appearance)? I'll bet it's pretty ugly.

American Idol

I won't bore you with a long rant about a show that is probably in its twilight, so I will keep this one short & sweet -- those of you who do not care for and/or watch this show may want to go to another one of my blogs.


I'm not fond of that Amanda chick. She seems cool enough, but she doesn't have a versatile voice at all. She can ONLY sing the type of song where screaming is the preferred method of delivery. She's not like... say Pink, who can both deliver the goods on a more R&B-flavored track as well as scream it out with the best of them. I like to think of Pink as a vocal lesbian -- she can go both ways.

Suffice it to say that I don't want to see Amanda win. I like that David Archuleta kid... I think he has that X-factor -- along with a pretty dynamite voice for a shy 17-year old kid. As for the girls.. I like Syesha Mercado -- but sometimes I don't know which head is voting for her.

Good luck to all the contestants.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

The Death of the R&B Group


I'm sure you've seen or heard about this story, but let me add this to it: I'm a HUGE Dru Hill fan. Anybody who knows me at all is well aware of this fact (if you don't know, just ask Your Friendly Neighborhood Skeptic and see what he says. I writhe in agony in between their albums, moreso once Woody left the group back in '98-'99 to return to gospel music -- thus putting their 3rd studio album on hold for what would be 2 more years. Once it finally dropped, I thoroughly embraced it... singing "I Should Be" at the top of my lungs to a woman (that in retrospect, certainly didn't deserve it). I've related to many of their hits over the years, like "Beauty", "Five Steps", "Tell Me", "One Good Reason" and so many more. Tell me that (as an R&B fan) you haven't thoroughly enjoyed one or more of their songs and I'd simply have to question your musical IQ. I love this group and unfortunately, this is to be my last memory of them together:



For those that haven't seen it, it's a video clip of the original 4 members of the group on 92Q (in Baltimore) announcing their reunion and subsequent 4th studio album -- only to be "surprised" by Woody minutes later, as he revealed that he would not be rejoining them. I really don't want to believe that this was staged -- but then again, I don't want to believe that it was real... it's a lose-lose situation. If it were real, I'd have to seriously question Woody's scruples and wonder why he didn't simply announce this before the interview. Was he gripped by the hand of the Almighty on his way to the station? Doesn't add up... but apparently, the group has been performing as a trio as they continue to tour with Keith Sweat (which could theoretically put to rest the rumors that it was all a work). Whether they knew beforehand that he was leaving or it was real all along, it doesn't look like the original quartet will no longer sing together -- which is bad news all around for a fan like me.

This makes me wonder -- what happened to all the great trios/quartets/quintets? From the oldies to now, the male R&B groups just can't seem to survive anymore. Remember how you felt when you first heard 112 sing "Cupid" or how hot Shai was? Do you remember the ridiculousness that was Jodeci? How about Hi-Five? Weren't you singing along with En Vogue? Remember Heavy D and (who?) Soul For Real. New Edition used to do the damn thing, didn't they? 702 repped Vegas hard. Who didn't love SWV? BBD, Troop, Blackstreet, Guy, etc... I bet you can name a plethora of groups that were hot to death and faded away before you were ready to let them go (or maybe you were, and were happy to see them go!)

This is how I feel about Dru Hill falling apart -- no bullshit. They were one of my last hopes. Ever since Diddy decided to stop caring about 112, so did the rest of America. We can't even get a K-Ci & Jo-Jo album at this point. Anyway, you get my point. I can only hope that something dramatic will happen in the future to stop this horrible trend and restore the sanctuary of super-R&B-group-dom.

So the question of the day: Which R&B groups do you all miss?

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Racism Still Exists

A group of white students at a university in South Africa tricked a group of black students into eating a funky stew (by pretending that it was for a Fear Factor-esque program) laced with a peculiar secret ingredient: urine.

Apparently, this incident took place back in September but the video has only surfaced in the last day or two (Editor's note: I wonder what the over-under is on how fast Rev. Al Sharpton will find his way down to South Africa to speak out against these atrocities? I've got my all money on 5 minutes ago).

This all got me thinking... as recently as segregation was still allowed in America (40 years), it has been an even shorter period of time since it was still acceptable in South Africa. How screwy is this whole thing? At the very base of it all, one can be hated simply for possessing more melanin than another. Not because of a heinous crime committed (although in their blind hate, some would peg an African-American for an offense without knowing a thing about him/her) or anything else that could justify such outright disdain -- but because of a person's skin color. Does being dark (or not) dictate how intelligent, thoughtful, classy, respectful, diligent, productive or good (or not) a person will be? Is one predisposed to a life of crime, prison, illegitimate children, manual labor or an otherwise unfulfilled life just because of the hue of their epidermis? I'm no anthrology, sociology or history expert, but I'm truly curious to know what was passing through the minds of the first people to say "Hey, look at them... why are they that color? They're different so I hate them and will teach my offspring and their offspring to hate them in perpetuity."

When broken down to its simplest form, racism is unfounded to a large degree and probably only exists now because it has existed for so long and has been passed to generation after generation.

I want to take the time to make this statement: Minorities can be racists, too. We can "discrimihate" (thanks, André 3000) on ourselves and others like us for reasons unknown. Some refuse to socialize or procreate with other minorities. Some viciously attack other minorities out of spite. Are they lashing out because of how they've been treated? Do they see a dark face and decide to release their anger and frustration? I'm probably way off-base, but I'm just trying to get a discussion going here.

I'm no deity or saint (and won't purport to be), but I know I'm a good person that treats everyone with respect. I'm no criminal... I have a college degree, a great job, a house, a car and multiple bank accounts -- I even have a 401(k), for goodness sake! But do you know what? Somewhere, a white person hates me because I'm black and a black person hates me because I'm doing something with my life. Mind you, I'm NOT insinuating that ALL white or ALL black people behave a certain way, but those that exhibit these behaviors know exactly who they are (and are probably proud of themselves).

I'm probably just being uber-pessimistic right now (this article sure did set me off), but the world is in sad shape. I just can't see world peace -- ever. Hate without reason is a very deadly weapon. A day without hate anywhere in the world is a day when we've all simultaneously fallen asleep or died from global warming and/or some massive explosion from deep in the Earth's core. Just look at all the centuries of tribal battle in the Middle East and Africa -- so senseless. Many of the battles are based on religious beliefs; others have simply been raging on for so long that children are reared to hate the opposition with no real rhyme or reason.

Racism (and most other -isms) has absolutely no place in society. I can only hope that my pessimism proves premature and that something will change... but I promise you that I will not hold my breath waiting.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Snake, Rat, Cat, Dog

"How you gon' see 'em if you livin' in a fog?"

Well, it's more like a snake and a rat-cat-dog anyway.

In Brisbane, Australia, a 16-foot python stalked and ultimately consumed a family's pet silky chihuahua in front of them -- much to the children's horror.

Apparently, they'd actually seen the snake a few days lurking in the area of the dog's bed -- yet failed to call in the local snakesmith (Editor's note: No, that's not a real word but yes, I'll actively seek to have that changed). The snake pounced and swallowed the 5-year old dog WHOLE. Whole! I can barely eat a chicken wing in one fell swoop -- but this 110-lb. bag of muscles swallowed another animal whole. Geez.

My favorite part about this article were the final two paragraphs:
Removing the half-swallowed dog could have harmed or even killed the python, Rose said, because dogs have sharp teeth and claws that could do the snake internal damage if it were wrenched out.

The snake was still digesting the dog at the zoo Wednesday. It will soon be relocated to the bush, Douglas said.
Really? Does anybody else not give a fuck about that snake (like me)? He swallowed a damn dog WHOLE. Greedy bastard.

Moral of the story: Stay the fuck out of Brisbane. Don't even bother.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Killadelphia

In honor of my buddy Girl From Park Heights' recent visit to my current place of residence, I've decided to take a little time to enlighten the blogging public as to why Philadelphia should be known as the "City of Brotherly Hate" henceforward.

This past Friday, as I reposed in my mother's living room (in lovely Upper Marlboro, MD), I checked news stories online only to discover frightening news -- a 15 year-old boy got shot. Normally, this wouldn't have troubled me any more than any other shooting in this trigger-happy city... but do you know why he got shot? Yup, you guessed it -- he accidentally hit a guy with a snowball. A snowball.

Last time I checked, snowball fights were the shit on those lovely days when classes fell victim to the elements... the problem is, I didn't know that was a good enough reason to become the next gunshot victim.

Apparently, the snowballee took great offense to this "injustice" and confronted the youth. In typical brazen teenage fashion, the young man returned the favor verbally -- which naturally just further incensed the gentleman. Instead of chalking it up to youthful indiscretion, the man warned the teen that he'd be back for him. The mother of one of the teen's friends advised him to remain indoors and refrain from any further verbal discourse. Of course, the teen didn't listen and went back outdoors. The friend's mother claims that as soon as she noticed he'd left, she opened the front door just in time to see him fall from being SHOT IN THE FACE AT POINT-BLANK RANGE.

Did you bother to click the link? If not, allow me to summarize: The boy died the next day at Temple University Hospital after his family decided to remove him from life support. Now, I understand that the kids in this city are bold, fresh, smart-mouthed sons-of-bitches... but WHY on EARTH did he have to kill the boy? Granted, the boy should've shut his damn mouth -- or better yet, apologized -- but that absolutely does not make it okay to kill him. I'm sorry. As bad as my road rage is and as many people as I've wanted to strike down in my lifetime, I've rarely heard of a crime so heinous. I'm thoroughly disgusted.

Let the countdown to my Philadexodus(TM) begin...

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

The Bible Says...

A minister in Florida, apparently quite dismayed with the high divorce rates in our society, has issued a challenge to the married members of his congregation in the form of a 30-day challenge.

If you bothered to click the link above, you'll notice that the man actually paid for a billboard to advertise said challenge. For those too lazy to click the link above, an promotional video clip (allegedly) made by the church itself (Relevant Church) has been embedded below:



That's right. He's asking that all married people get down for 30 consecutive days. Why? He points to research which suggests that one can develop a consistent habit over such a period of time (Translation: If you and your wife get funky like K'NEX everyday, then maybe you can prevent your marriage from faltering in the first place -- since sex is allegedly one of the first things to go out the window). I suppose it's some sort of Pavlovian deal? Very interesting, nonetheless. I'm sure there were a lot of guys who have absolutely nothing to do with this church (or any church at all) that have been using it as an excuse to get some...

Wife: "Please, not today... I have such a bad headache!"
Man: "God commands you, woman -- now, get naked!"

I'm sure there are several more humorous variations of that conversation occurring as you read this. If the population in Ybor City, FL suddenly skyrockets, I think we all know who to blame.

Wanna know the best thing I found during my "research" for this blog-ette? This title of this MSNBC article... PRICELESS. That, in addition to the use of the term "hanky-panky" left me chuckling aloud. Ahh, the simple pleasures in life.

So, married people -- stop reading and go do as the good pastor says!

Friday, February 15, 2008

It's Showtime!

Finally -- the strike is over. We can watch TV again and many non-writing staff can get back to working (read: feeding their families who starved while the writers and studios did little-to-no negotiating for about 2-3 months).

I'd like to say that the absence of new episodes of my favorite shows has kept me away from the boob tube and left me to more productive endeavors... but alas, that is sadly not the case -- I merely just found other things to watch. Here is a short list of all the shows which I (re)discovered during the hiatus of my current faves:
1. Parking Wars (AETV)
Very appropriately timed was this show about people in this very city of Philadelphia who've had run-ins with the Philadelphia Parking Authority (PPA) -- and the employees of said organization who enforce their guidelines. It seems like a weird idea on the surface, but it's pretty freakin' hilarious to listen to people's excuses and watch them flip out after receiving citations. As if you didn't know parking on the damn sidewalk wasn't okay... genius. Here's the clincher: I actually got my car towed for the first time ever (Editor's note: I was parked too long on the street during rush hour -- don't even get me started) and they were actually filming footage for this show while I was in there. You'll probably never hear from all the people that I did, but let me just tell you -- most of them deserved their tickets, but to hear them bitch and trash the PPA was HILARIOUS. Almost makes my road rage not seem so bad by comparison... GRADE: B+

2. Pardon The Interruption (ESPN)
There is not much bad I could ever say about this show, pre- or post-strike. For some reason, I'd fallen off in recent months and only now have begun to incorporate it into my daily ritual. This is a great sports show and a must-watch for any sports fan. You get the low-down on all the big sports news, delivered in most hilarious fashion by the hosts (Tony Kornheiser and Michael Wilbon). They bicker and argue like they have no sense, dropping much humorous off-the-cuff commentary along the way. Man, I love me some PTI... GRADE: A

3. Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew (VH1)
I know what you're thinking -- what the fuck, Abe? Well yeah, I'm sorry. I got drawn into this fucking show. Nothing like watching a bunch of rich people bitch about all their problems and how drugs have taken over their lives. Let me tell you something, buddy -- there are not that many of my problems that can't be solved with, I dunno, MONEY! I suppose they all are proof positive that Christopher Wallace's theory holds weight: Mo' Money = Mo' Problems. Our favorite real TV doctor Dr. Drew throws these guys all into one rehab center and attempts to discover the root of their addiction and help them kick it (Editor's note: Very admirable. He's classy. I like him. Plus "Loveline" was awesome). The cast includes such "stars" as:

- Joanie Laurer aka "Chyna" (former pro wrestler/bodybuilder)
- Ricco Rodriguez (ex-UFC champion)
- Jaimee Foxworth aka "Judy Winslow" (the daughter who went upstairs and never came back down)
- Brigitte Nielson (we've all seen and/or heard of her fling w/ Flavor Flav -- haven't we?)
- Daniel Baldwin (almost as unsuccessful as his brother, Billy)
- Jeff Conaway (of "Grease" and "Taxi" fame, presently one fucked up individual)

There are a few more characters on the show, but I think you get the gist by now... GRADE: B

4. The Moment of Truth (FOX)
Well, what more can I say here? The premise of this show is that the producers ask you a bunch of tough questions and randomly select 21 for you to answer again on live TV. Oh, did I mention that you're connected to a polygraph? That's right, folks -- you too can embarass yourself and your entire family for a shot at $500,000! Ever wondered "Geez, how can I get rid of my wife/husband?" -- well, fret not... this show has you covered! All you have to lose is the very fabric of your existence.

I won't front like it's not kinda funny -- I just wish people would think twice before purchasing a "No Sex For Life" gift basket like this... GRADE: C
Well, folks -- that's my starter list of the shows have held my attention (good or bad) during the writers' strike. There were definitely a few more shows that held me DOWN (or HELD me down, it's simply a matter of semantics) -- but I just wanted to get the ball rolling here.

So, what have you been watching?

Thursday, February 14, 2008

February 14th

I kinda hate Valentine's Day. By that, I mean I hate what it stands for today. Do I sound like a bitter man, tired of roaming the ranks of solitude? Probably... but the truth is I'm very much the opposite -- I really just don't like this day. It has become a day of self-loathing for single women and overdue, overdone celebration of love for those in relationships. I don't know about you, but relationships are like plants -- I believe that you must prune, feed and water them with relative consistency in order for them to flourish. Personally, I don't know too many couples that thrive on a once annual celebration of love (although a strong argument could be made for anniversaries -- oh wait... most men allegedly don't even remember it in the first place, do they? That's for another day...)

Having a hard time coping with the red & pink bonanza today? Here's my personal advice for surviving this whole wacky thing:

* Couples: Make every day V-day. Well, not literally -- you can't be expected to lavish him/her with luxurious gifts and gestures on a quotidian basis. What I mean is, show him/her every day in some way how you feel. Don't put too much pressure on yourself to perform on February 14th just because society tells you that it is the one day you should go all out. Why not do it on a random Thursday just because you feel like it? I'm the type to buy flowers while I'm out grocery shopping on a Saturday afternoon -- simply because the mood strikes me. It is uncouth to think that one can reserve all shows of affection for one of 365 days per year (not to mention that stubborn leap day). Good days and bad -- make an earnest effort to ensure that your significant other never has to wonder: "Does s/he still love me?" It's always hard to get back to a "good place" once it gets to that point... so if you truly care, don't let that happen.

* Singles: This one is especially for the single ladies out there... but PLEASE stop putting so much value in this day! I acknowledge that not ALL single women feel this way, but there is such a large populace of scorned, bitter women that reveal themselves once per year that it needed to be said. I understand that it's not always fun being single (debatable, but alas -- that's for another day), but why should you allow this one day to raise your distaste to the nth degree? Is it because Hallmark told you that you should be getting a card today? Is it because Godiva moves units like Eminem and Nelly circa 2001? Is it because every florist known to mankind hauls in 10x more receipts on this day than any other this year? Please... it's a joke. Single or not, you are who you are -- and as long as you aren't a bad person, then your time will come. Please don't sit around scarfing down Chunky Monkey or Rocky Road, watching "Sleepless in Seattle" with a box of Kleenex(TM) at your side. There are so many things about which to rejoice that it doesn't make sense to get all depressed on such an artificial day of celebration.

Well, that about wraps up my advice for this year. For those of you celebrating, please don't take this as reprimand or a suggestion that you scale it back. I'll admit that despite my better judgment, women love this day and I go along with it when necessary (which will be forever at this point). If you want to do any and everything to make your woman happy today, then by all means be my guest... I just hope that today isn't the only day you'll make an honest effort to show her how you feel about her.

Happy Make-All-The-Florists-Hallmark-Stores-And-Chocolatiers-Rich Day. May you take from it whatever you wish. Just don't go doing anything stupid like jumping off a bridge -- because I, for one, will most certainly NOT jump in after you.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Road Rage

Note: This rant will veer into the Rated-R realm at times in order to preserve realism (i.e., my mouth and brain often cease communication when I'm behind the wheel, often ensuring overly hilarious monologue -- and I didn't want to completely deprive you of that sweet experience).

Just in case you've never had the pleasure of riding in any motor vehicle of which I was the conductor, allow me to inform you that I have road rage... in fact, it may be one of the single largest heretofore undocumented cases of roadrageism known to mankind.

As a youth, I developed the horrible practice of internalizing all of my frustration and anguish -- which has led to many a vicious outburst in my adult life. This can be no more evident if you've seen/heard me drive through traffic. I have no sympathy for the old man in front of my with the PD tags -- I'm just looking for an extra lane via which I can circumnavigate that slow-ass sumamabitch. I don't care about that couple from Wyoming that is lost and is simply looking for a space to pull over. I wish that flock of geese would test me. Ludacris' "Move Bitch" was music to my ears when first released. Simply put: I turn into a Roadrageasaurus Rex when I'm behind the wheel and have negligible patience levels for bad driving. I'm not overly-aggressive, but it doesn't take much to piss me off.

Recently, I almost killed me a couple of white boys on the Roosevelt Boulevard in Philadelphia (Editor's note: I'm in no way a racist. I love everybody. Seriously. It was just funnier if I tossed that descriptor in there). Roosevelt Blvd may be one of the most treacherous roadways in America. I'm sure somebody has written a vicious smear campaign against this 12-lane behemoth NON-HIGHWAY that runs clear across the northern part of Philadelphia and into the next county. If you could pick a street never to traverse by foot, this would have to go at the top of your list.

So anyway, these two douchebags pull off into the right-most lane. I proceed to make the same move behind them, as I needed to turn right off of this asphalt mastodon; apparently by doing so, I raised the ire of the 2 fine aforementioned gentlemen (Editor's note: To this day, I still don't know how and/or why). They proceed to honk their horns and still their middle fingers out of every orifice of that 2-door shitmobile of theirs. Initially, I passed it off as 2 drunkards going wild after midnight... however, after sitting at a green light for 2-3 minutes as they continued with their aviary gestures -- only to further be fueled by the considerate dose of honk that I began to provide. Suffice it to say that a healthy shouting match ensued. A short chase and near introduction to my steering wheel lock later, I had raised my blood pressure about 7,000 points and later had to ask myself -- why?

I know I have a problem and I need to talk to somebody about it. As a youth, I tried yoga for awhile (to positive results)... but it's obvious that follow-up is very much needed here in my adulthood. I guess I've made the first step already: I'm admitting that I have a problem. Now it's time to attempt positive change. The last thing I'd need is for my life to be taken from me in a flash of anger... or worse yet, to perpetuate the madness by infecting my future progeny with the same affliction. Just like physical abuse, I want to be proactive and end this vicious cycle before it's too late.

In the meantime... GET OUT THE WAY, BITCH -- GET OUT THE WAY!

Monday, February 4, 2008

18-1

I'll try to keep this one short and sweet for you, guys... because there isn't much that I need to say here that wasn't already emphatically stated last night in Arizona on that football field:

All that talk about utter domination can cease now. As much as it pained me, I was cheering for the Giants. Why? Simple -- they played brilliantly down the stretch. Before the game against the Cowboys, I was nervous all week. I knew that the 'Boys weren't playing up to par and that the Giants were on FIRE -- little did I know how hot they truly were. They went on to beat three of the best teams in the NFL and win Super Bowl XLII against all odds (speaking of odds, why didn't I bet on them? I'd be paying someone else to ghost-write this blog as we speak).

Spurred on late by a seemingly supernatural catch by David Tyree, the Giants rallied from a late 4th quarter deficit to defeat the New England Patriots 17-14. Any true fan of football had to be in awe of the great tug-of-war that we witnessed in the final 15 minutes of that game -- one which had been a mighty defensive struggle up to that point.

If you managed to hold down all the beer, wings and pizza you'd eaten after watching the slew of terribly uninteresting $3 million dollar sinkholes they so loosely referred to as "commercials" and held on long enough to see the game to the final whistle, you certainly got a treat.

Unless you were a Pats fan.

There is a lot of talk about Belicheck walking off the field. Look... there were 2 seconds left after Tom Brady's hail mary pass -- which were subsequently run off, added back on, run off and added back on again. The man had no way of knowing that the timekeeper was losing his marbles (Did anyone else notice how the time stayed at 6:12 in the 1st quarter for about 2 minutes?) Whether he eventually realized it or not, he'd already (albeit begrudgingly, I assume) congratulated his former co-worker Tom Coughlin on a hard-fought victory. There was no reason for him not to believe it was over... because it most certainly was.

Hats off to the Patriots for having such an improbably wonderful regular season -- but the ultimate kudos belong to the Giants for refusing to be star struck and completing the job they came to do.

I already can't wait for next season.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

English 101

Watching the movie "The Heartbreak Kid" this weekend brought to mind a topic that I love to love: grammar -- of the English variety, to be specific. Ben Stiller's wife in the movie broached the topic of living together and used the word "inhabitate" -- which was fortunately met with great resistance from Ben's character and a request that she consult Webster's Dictionary to seek further guidance regarding the correct verb and its proper usage. As I've said in the past -- I'm no English major, journalist, teacher or member of any other profession in which it is my specific duty to correct the misspeak of society; however, as your friend, it is my privilege and pleasure to share with you just a few of the most commonly misused and abused terms to which my sensitive ears have been victims over the years:

Conversate:
-> Intended meaning: To hold a discussion
-> Example(s): "Why are we still conversating about this?"
-> Correct word: Converse
-> Etymology: A word so often misspoken that it was allegedly added to the dictionary (and/or otherwise recognized) by Webster's New Millennium Dictionary of English. From Biggie to Beyoncé, this fictitious word has been chanted to a melody and recited by music fans worldwide to ill effect.

Irregardless:
-> Intended meaning: Without regard, care or consideration
-> Example(s): "Irregardless, she shouldn't have done that"
-> Correct word: Regardless
-> Etymology: I wish I knew. There is absolutely no excuse for a double-negative in the SAME DAMN WORD. None whatsoever. It's worse than saying "I can't not do this never." What the fuck are you saying? Either you are or you aren't. Both the prefix "ir-" and the suffix "-less" are intended to indicate a lack of something -- whether it be regard, rationale, compassion or anything else human. There is absolutely no sound reason to use both at once. I'd sure like to have a nice conversation with the foolhardy individual who first spread that poisonous, filthy word to the masses so that I might enlighten him/her to the folly of his/her ways.

Be:
-> Intended tense(s): Present Progressive, Present, Imperfect, etc
-> Example(s): "Who be doing that?"; "Why you be saying stuff like that?"
-> Correct wording: Usually the correct tense of "do" or whichever verb succeeds "be"
-> Etymology: Pure colloquialism that has far too often rolled off the tongues of those skilled in American slang -- which is often referred to as Ebonics, in what appears to have been intended as a more PC term and/or empowering to African Americans. Honestly, to suggest that slang is unique or specific to blacks probably generated the inverse of whatever emotion was intended or desired here -- good job. As my buddy Music Snob might say -- DO BETTER!

*Your:
-> Intended meaning: Contraction for "you are"
-> Example(s): "Just call me when your outside."
-> Correct wording: You're.
-> Etymology: As in "you're welcome." Which is what I'll say when you thank me for this later. There are people out there who probably think that nothing is awry in the example that I gave. Naturally, this is an error reserved for writing -- but an utterly complete & comprehensive grammar check is just so far off from reality that we all need to stay on our toes. This atrocity can easily be avoided... if you require assistance, please take a look here for a handy guide. Please also refer to the "their/they're" dilemma.

I'm sure that I've overlooked a plethora of other misnomers and otherwise faulty verbiage (please note that I did not say "verbage"), but I'm hoping that you guys and your lovely commentary will help resolve that issue (i.e., I cracked open the coconut -- now it's time to eat).

I hope that all of my educated brethren will join me in yet another crusade -- this time to bring the everlasting joy that comes with a firm grasp of one's language of birth and to end the seemingly interminable verbal atrocities spewing from the orifices of our fellow Earthlings.


*Only when not intended for use as a possessive pronoun.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

So Bad That It's Good

Every once in awhile comes a television event so astoundingly spectacular that it can overcome deep-fried punch lines and transcend pun-filled discourse to nestle its way into our hearts. Perhaps fueled by the lack of original programming on air due to the continuing writers' strike, NBC has struck gold by dusting off old jewelry. With the imminent reentry of Knight Rider to the market, it has become evident that even if somebody else already built it, used it, abused it and re-used it, we will still come back for more if you just wait long enough to try again. Perhaps the most amazing example of which has been the return of American Gladiators -- and fortunately for us, it's almost as cheesy and unforgivably awesome as it was before.

With "The Immortal" Hulk Hogan and the beautiful pugilist Laila Ali performing the hosting duties, the former Saturday morning staple has returned for our viewing pleasure. If corny puns, terribly scripted interviews and thrilling challenges excite you, then this just may be the ticket for you! Where else can you hear a contestant utter the phrase: "Where I come from, assault can get you 3-5... but here, I'm going for 10!!" Did you catch the pun? How clever! Better yet, how about a gladiator saying: "I smell fear, I smell blood... and I'm gonna eat ya!" -- then proceeding to howl like a wolf?! It's all just too bad to be true.

If you've seen the new show and have thought to yourself "Wow, the new Eliminator is extremely hard!" It's probably more likely that you've thought "Man, this is even worse than the original" -- well, I beg you to watch the video below for all the evidence necessary to dismiss that theory once and for all:



It's a little different this time around, but OH MY it's as cheesy as ever! If you were ever a fan of the show, I urge you to watch the new version. Don't think too hard. It's mindless TV drivel -- make no bones about it. But do you wanna know the best part? Nobody cares. Enjoy it for what it is -- mindless fun.

I'll leave you with yet another classic AG moment. Bon appetit!

Monday, January 14, 2008

Enough Is Enough

I'm a Dallas Cowboys fan. Yes, I was born in D.C. and I live in Philadelphia -- but I don't care. Ever since I started watching football, I've always loved something about the Cowboys. I've endured a 1-15 rookie outing from Troy Aikman. I've suffered through 3 consecutive 5-11 seasons. I've celebrated 3 Super Bowl titles in the 1990s (and two prior to my arrival on this planet). I will stick with my team through thick and thin. I will defend them when they're innocent and lambaste them when they deserve scrutiny the most. With all that being said, if I hear anyone else suggest that Jessica Simpson (now known as "Yoko Romo") had anything to do with the Cowboys losing, I may just end up having the grandest conniption you've ever witnessed in your entire life -- and that's coming from someone diagnosed with UFC-like road rage.

It has been suggested that the mere presence of Jessica Simpson provides so much of a distraction that Tony cannot perform well. It has also been suggested that his short Mexican vacation prior to the NFC Divisional Playoff game against the New York Giants was ill-advised, ill-timed and ill-fated. Is the newsworld so slow that people have to create all this fictional hype? Does this writers' strike have media outlets scrambling for clever one-liners?

Seriously, did anyone else hear Patrick Crayton when he said that she'd been to TWO other games this season? Correct me if I'm wrong, but prior to that loss against the Eagles, the Cowboys only lost 1 other game -- against the Patriots. Even if she were in attendance at that game, it is statistically impossible for the Cowboys to have lost every game for which she was present. Also, did anyone else hear Romo, coach Wade Phillips and TE Jason Witten mention that they were GIVEN a few days of vacation? The coach told them to get away from football for a few days so that they could recharge their batteries and come back reenergized for the playoff game. If you had 8 figures in the bank, were given a 2-3 day vacation and had a pretty attractive girlfriend, are you going to tell me that you wouldn't have taken a vacation somewhere tropical? Add to that the fact that Witten and members of Simpson's family were both in attendance. The fact of the matter is that my team played like crap on Sunday. You can't wholly blame any one person.

As T.O. correctly indicated afterward (although you may have been distracted by his display of emotion), they lost as a TEAM. Don't blame the coach for telling them to rest for 2-3 days. Don't blame one dropped pass. Don't blame one missed block. Don't blame one overthrown ball. Don't blame one missed tackle. Simply put they didn't do enough overall to win what was a very winnable game -- PERIOD. It's hard to work your butt off that long, playing through injuries and traveling all over the country for 4-5 months only to LOSE the big one. The Cowboys started to show signs of wear as early as December and it continued in the playoffs; conversely, the Giants started looking like the squad they are on paper and executed when it counted most. The better prepared and disciplined team won Sunday. Too bad they have to face the RED-HOT Green Bay Packers on Sunday.

Did I tell you that Brett Favre is my favorite individual player? Have to love his no-guts, no-glory, balls-to-the-wall mentality. At 38 years of age, he's out there playing like a 28 year-old -- and the Packers are winning. He's broken so many records (both good and bad)... he deserves to walk out of that stadium. with that second Super Bowl ring around his finger and go down in history as one of the most unorthodox, gritty and successful QBs to ever play the game.

Imagine the drama -- the Packers had their fantastic comeback season (13-3, 2nd in NFC) and the Patriots have assembled one of the most statistically impressive seasons in the history of the sport. They've referred to the Packers as the football equivalent of the '83 NC State Wolfpack. I'm not so sure I would go THAT far, but I think it would be safe to say that this could easily be one of the highest rated Super Bowl games in recent history. I'm drooling just thinking about it. I can't wait.

Let's go, #4!

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Who Is This Woman?

Apparently, she's a daughter-of-a-bitch.

(editor's note: I've always wondered why we never say that... it seems intuitive, right? Well, don't start now because it's in the process of being trademarked & I'll sue the blog shit outta you if you don't properly remunerate me!)

Her name is Kelly Tilghman, a former Duke women's golfer who last played back when Driving Miss Daisy had just won the Academy Award for Best Picture (she NEVER played on the LPGA Tour). She's not terribly relevant now (unless you consider being the only female announcer on The Golf Channel a sign of relevance)... and apparently, she's not too fond of Tiger Woods. She remarked on air that young golfers should "lynch Tiger Woods in a back alley." Now, perhaps this was some feeble attempt at making a joke about Woods' superiority & dominance over the sport (and alluding to the notion that they try to gain an edge by any means necessary)... or maybe she just straight-up meant what she said. Regardless of her true intent, it came off as extremely tacky, crude and downright inappropriate.

She's not even remotely attractive, successful, talented, popular or otherwise significant enough for this non-average American male to even fiddle with the notion of "overlooking" this calamity. This is the kind of shit that gets members of the media fired quickly. Oh, you're wondering why they haven't fired her.. right? Well, let's break it down like this:
1) She works for the fucking Golf Channel! Have you ever seen or heard of it? Chances are that 99.5% have not and will not.

2) She "apologized" to Tiger the following day (scroll to the bottom to see the blurb) -- as all the best offenders have been quick to do.

3) Well, let's be honest -- these broadcasting conglomerates really try not to fire the offenders until somebody makes a big stink about it. I haven't done the research, but I'm sure there have been quite a few more snafus that have slipped right under the radar and buried their heads in the sane.
I don't really want to care about this as much as I do, but FUCK -- it's 2008, bitch! I don't just want people to stop saying racist, sexist, ageist or anything-ist else offensive -- I want us to stop thinking it in the first place. Then, and only then, can we ever move forward as a society without prejudice.

Too bad none of us will live long enough to see anything near that.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Not-So-Lean Cuisine

"Man kills, cooks and possibly eats girlfriend, police say"

This story was just so wrong on so many levels that I don't even know where to begin, but I just felt the need to address it -- so I'll give it the old college try.

On Saturday, January 5, 2008, a 25 year-old Texan male allegedly called 911 and advised an emergency dispatcher that he had murdered his 21 year-old girlfriend... and was BOILING her body parts at his mom's house. When the cops arrived, they stumbled upon a horrific scene right out of your favorite (not-so-scary) horror flick:
"When authorities arrived at the home, they found Shearer's mutilated body, one ear boiling in a pot of water on the stove and a fork sticking out of some human flesh sitting on a plate on the kitchen table."
Wow. This kind of shit happens in real life? What the fuck is wrong with this dude? To make things worse, he allegedly stabbed the boyfriend of his estranged wife a few days prior. I don't care what anybody says: people like that just don't get better... they just get lobotomized by psychiatric meds. Worse yet, I fear that all the defense will have to do is paint a picture of a mentally disturbed man (how else could you possibly commit such a heinous, atrocious crime against another human?) and get him off easy.

Normally, I'm not an "eye for an eye" kind of guy... but this dude deserves to be Kentucky-fried with all of the Colonel's secret spices and a splash of mambo sauce for good measure.

Random thought: Does it upset anyone else that he may have eaten some of her? Even if he didn't, the fact that the authorities cannot definitively rule it out as a possibility (a piece of flesh on a plate with a fork in it can raise a few eyebrows) perturbs me to a degree. I don't care to see a Hannibal Lecter copycat -- I had enough once I saw him sample Ray Liotta's frontal lobe, thank you very much.

I say throw a REALLY big book at this dude (e.g., the Encyclopedia Brittanica) and make it part of his sentence to read it word-for-word, page-for-page -- he looks like he'll die trying anyway.

Friday, January 4, 2008

Am I a Traitor?

I like Barack Obama. He comes off as very clean, chic, genial, eloquent, motivating, concerned -- and just seems like a cool cat, overall (which you'd be hard-pressed to believe after reading this religion-based smear-fest about him). In fact, he looks like that really cool uncle who bought you better birthday gifts than your parents ever did and let you stay up really late.

Did you notice a glaring omission in my observations? I didn't mention that I like him because he's black. Why not, you ask? It's simple -- because I don't give a flying fuck about that. Ever notice how so many women are jumping on Hillary Clinton's bandwagon because she's a woman and NOT because she's an excellent candidate with good ideas about how to turn our country around? Much like when the Jena 6 and Michael Vick were the topics-du-jour, I choose not blindly agree with the masses. So, I have a question for you: does this point of view make me a traitor? Am I in the wrong here? Short answer: No. Absolutely not.

Just because the man's melanin levels rival mine do not make him the best candidate for me. I'm not even saying that I won't vote for him. I'm just saying that I'd like to compare all of the candidates' ideals against mine and choose the person that best suits my own agenda. I want to vote for the candidate who I believe will be most capable of leading this country in the direction that I hope to see it go. I owe myself that much -- especially when considering how much taxes are borrowed from my paycheck by the government every other week.

So where in the Constitution does it say that I'm required to support any and every one that looks somewhat like I do? Which verse in the holy book of your choosing dictates that I "act black" and be "pro-black" at all times? Not that minorities of all kinds don't deserve opportunities to vie for positions of authority just like the majority, but I shouldn't feel obligated to support them for that reason alone. How many of you know someone that would run you down for being black and not voting for Obama, not supporting Vick, insisting that the Jena 6 did a few wrong things prior to that horrific ordeal and refusing to listen to hip-hop? If I shun Timberland or Nike boots as my choice of winter footwear, does it suggest that I may have fallen & bumped my head with concussive force? Do these things define me as an African-American?

One of the most beautiful things about being an American is having the freedom to choose. I can choose to own a gun (don't worry -- I don't want one). I can choose to vote. I can choose to boo anything or anybody -- even the little kids on Showtime at the Apollo. I can choose which brand of deodorant is pH balanced just for me. I don't live in a communist nation and people shouldn't treat me as such. I used to love Limp Bizkit and listened to their music often. Am I crazy for finding Superbad extremely funny? Is it wrong that I've dated a few white women in my lifetime? Is it wrong that I like John Mayer's voice? Should I have my "card" revoked now for conduct contrary to societal expectations?

I refuse to be characterized one way or another because of my skin color alone. Whether I'm listening to DMX or Coldplay, watching Seinfeld or Martin, The Great Debaters or No Country for Old Men -- none of this changes anything. I am who I am and I like what I like. To those who would try to put me in a box and chastise me for attempting to think or act outside of it, I say this: Kiss my entire ass. Just kiss it.

P.S.: Those Senate Auto Insurance commercials are just awful, aren't they?

Thursday, January 3, 2008

I Need Your Help

In case you have just awakened from a 50-year coma, then you are aware that the picture on the left is of a personal computer. Over the years, it has become quite a handy tool for mundane tasks (e.g., word processing & Internet surfing), as well as more complex tasks (e.g., tabulating taxes & viewing full-length porn clips). Honestly, I don't care to imagine my life without mine. I'd feel lost and isolated from the rest of the world. Unfortunately, I get a glimpse of this unconscionable realm every time I go to visit my mother in Maryland.

What does this mean, you ask? A weekend with no e-mail access. No ESPN.com. No instant messaging. No Facebook or MySpace. No blogging. Nothing at all.

You're thinking, "Does she live in Bora Bora?" Well, no -- it just feels like it. My mother came to the US over 27 years ago in search of a better life and education. After settling in the Washington, DC area, she graduated from UDC (yeah, there is such a school) and has worked for Bank of America for over 20 years now -- in an extremely technology-driven industry. Unfortunately, this daily exposure to computers has not translated well to her home life. My mother suffers from Computerilliteratitis -- and she is not alone. You probably know someone who breaks into a cold sweat at the mere mention of Microsoft Office; in fact, you may live with this person. Statistics show that many elderly persons struggle with an even more vicious variant of the virus that renders them unable to muster up the courage to attempt to power up a PC. Many of us have loved ones who suffer everyday... and together, we can stop this menace -- before it's too late.

For less than the cost of a cup of coffee each morning (or less time than you'd spend waiting for it to brew), you can make certain that my mother and others like her get the help that they so desperately need. Oh, so you tithed this week? No worries. If you cannot donate liquid assets, then substitute the greatest of intangibles -- your time. Spend a few minutes a day with someone in need and foster the confidence to do more with a PC than check bank account balances. Help someone learn to type a document in Microsoft Word. Show someone the wonders of Google and YouTube. Illustrate how inappropriate & unacceptable dial-up internet access is with the bevy of high-speed options available in 2008. Teach someone how to make a photo slide-show and be the envy of their friends and co-workers. Bestow upon them the power of Ctrl+Alt+Del.

It's not too late to save my mother and others like her -- but we must act quickly before it's untreatable. Your donation will go directly toward those who need it most. Act now and receive absolutely nothing in return for your kindness.

Now you know -- and knowing is half the battle. The power is yours.