Oh, Please.

So I'm about to go to bed tonight when I see that the end of The Waterboy is on. I'm finishing some stuff up so I put it on.

One of my favorite parts of the movie involves Farmer Fran and his nipples. Strange to say, I know, but if you've seen the movie, you know what I'm talking about. Anyway....

That part of the movie's about to come on, so I turn to watch. Bobby let's go of the ball... the music comes to a cresendo... and they cut to... Coach Red Beaulieu strangling his team's mascot.

Excuse me, and while this doesn't happen much around here, I have to say:

WHAT THE FUCK ?????

Where's the shot of shirtless Farmer Fran arching his back and pinching his nipples as a smile breaks on his face?? It's 11:55pm, the shot has no sexual overtones whatsoever, they JUST showed a shot of him cheering in the crowd. He has no shirt and he's got shiny nipple rings. And I've seen the movie I dunno how many times in the middle of the freakin' day and that shot's been in there every time!

"What channel am I on?" is the thought that eventually comes into my head after confusion and bewilderment make enough space.

ABC Family. The same network that's shown Alias repeats and just now aired a commercial with a teen-age girl in a bubble bath, her one knee above the bubbles as a bewildered teen-aged boy stands gawking. Oh, but wait. It's for their show "Wild Fire" that airs on that network. Okay.

Not only am I stunned that they chose to replace the shot (all 5 seconds of it, if that), but I find it ironic what they replaced it with: a grown man choking a college student in a mascot costume. So, mano-a-mano violence is okay, but a guy pinching his nipples is not. I see how it works.

I guess South Park was right. Again. You can have a little boy take a nijna star to the eye and then dress him as a dog, but that gets trumped by a naked fat kid every time.

And the Downers Win

The former Houston 1836, formerly the San Jose Earthquakes, have caved in to the pressure and have decided to change their name.

While it is the wuss thing to do, it is also the smart thing (sadly, most of the time the two are intertwined). Why alienate the very community that you're counting on in order to make you successful?

And so the search for a new name begins.

The second choice seemed to be the Houston Lone Star. Not as cool. Also, not as available. At least accorinding to Jamey Rootes, the owner of Lone Star Sports and Entertainment. Seems he may be getting all lawyered up to defend his name.

They're gonna end up being called the Toros or something generic like that and I'm gonna be very dissapointed. Especially since I wasn't even able to get my hat!

Pop Culture World Series

Who's with me?

" VH1 and Entertainment Weekly are scouring the country to find 16 three-person teams who think they’ve got what it takes to compete in the most intense pop culture trivia tournament to date, THE WORLD SERIES OF POP CULTURE.

The tournament, which will be taped to air on VH1 in late summer 2006, will happen over the weekend of April 28th through the 30th in New York City.

Whether teams consist of friends who gather to watch Lost every Wednesday, or co-workers who spend lunch hours discussing their favorite films, or siblings who grew up addicted to sitcoms, the three members must have extensive knowledge of the films, tv shows, music, and pop culture happenings of the 70s, 80’s and 90’s through today."


Seriously, who's with me?



(Chang, I'm looking at you.... Annaka... maybe not so much.)

Damn Mexicans!

Oh no! My second favorite MLS team might just drop a few places in my heart.

Due to protest in the Houston area, Houston 1836 are seriously considering changing their shiny new month-old name. While the general Houston population might take immense pride in the year the city was founded, some in the Mexican-American community (or as they will from this point be referred to: "Downers") don't seem to like the fact that 1836 was also the year Texas won it's independence from Mexico. Some "Downers" think the name insulting and offenseive.

Of course they do. They are American, after all. And while they may well be Mexican-American, what could be more American nowadays than being offended at the mere hint of something that could be interpreted as offensive. And by something as innocuous as the name of a professional sports team. And an MLS team at that!

I kind of want to go into this whole thing about team names and where I can see a case to protest (Washington Redskins) and where I wanna slap a protester (Florida State Seminoles), but it'd be long and drawn out and I really don't wanna get into the nuances of my thoughts about political correctness, racial/ethnic attitudes and conflicts, and the general landscape of American sensitivity. Let's just say that this kinda thing gets me all worked up.

But in the particular case of Houston and this piddly soccer team's nickname, I wanna make this point: Texans in general are some of the most proud people I have ever met about where they come from. 1836 was a year when Texans, comprised of groups of many ethnicities, former Mexicans included, were able to stand up and say together and for the first time "DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS!" I'm not even from Texas and I think that's pretty cool. And how can the "Downers" argue with independence and the founding of the city?

I have to admit, though, that there is a part of me that hopes they do eventually change their name. It's the part of me that's gonna buy a hat or jersey as soon as possible. Can you say "collector's item"?

Thank You, Dick!

On Friday, I posted about how I had nothing to say. That is no longer the case, thanks to our VP, Mr. Dick Cheney, who apparently after reading my blog (take THAT, Rob! The real leader of our country reads mine!) took it upon himself to shoot a man in Texas just to watch him die.

For those of you who haven't heard (I myself was on the late show on this one), Dick Cheney capped a 72-year-old man over the weekend whilst quail hunting. And there are soooo many nuggets of comedy gold here that I'm not sure which is best:

1) The guy that got blasted was 72. Apparently he's okay, so I can make fun of him. But 72??? So, what? He made a smart-ass comment and Cheney wanted to punish the young whippersnapper? Why the heck does Cheney dislike old millionaire lawyers?

2) Cheney was aiming for a quail. The old guy shot a quail, went to go get it, Cheney spotted another quail, was tracking it and BOOM! Old guy was in the line of fire. I can't wait for the next time a Republican speaks about gun safety!

3) Everything was okay with the old guy 'cause Cheney travels with an ambulance! I know it may be standard operating procedure with the Secret Service, but it's not a bad idea considering the guy's had a few heart surgeries. Better safe than sorry.

4) After shooting a man, Cheney promptly told... no one. Another standard operating procedure, perhaps? The story didn't break for 24 hours. How does this story not break for 24 hours? The VP shot a man! Not only was the story not reported, when it was reported, it was by a local newspaper. And only on their website. C'mon!! Word on the delay is that Cheney deferred announcement of the incident to a fellow hunter because it happened on his property. Way to man up, Dick. That's exactly the kind of responsibility I want to see from the guy who's next in line for the Presidency.

But that's all pretty incidental. I have to think the next 2 are my favorites.

5) There are 3 comedy places to shoot a guy: the groin (it works on so many levels!), the buttocks (which allows us to say buttocks), and the face. Now, the face is the least of the comedy regions, but it's still pretty funny, and that's exactly where Cheney blasted the guy. If you want to know how great that is, just ask my old roomy Jason, who once full-on spiked a volleyball into Scott's face.

6) Cheney shot the guy... wait for it... with a frikin' shotgun! Oh yeah! Okay. It was a 24 guage shotgun. Like wire, the higher the guage, the smaller the gun - a 12 guage is like a hand cannon while a 24 guage has a much smaller punch, which is why it's used for game like quail. But it's a frikin' shotgun!! Classic.


So thank you, Mr. Vice President. You are truly a hero. Not mine, of course, but someone's I'm sure. You saw an American in distress on Friday and took it upon yourself to help. I salute you, sir! I take it you'll understand if I don't stand up, though - I'm personally wary of crossfire.

Julian - You so Crazy!

I find myself requiring a blog entry. But while I feel compelled to write, I feel compelled to write about nothing.

So I look at my blog (MLS season's just around the corner!) and one thing continues to pop into my head (and it's not the Hall and Oates song that was in there yesterday): The lyrics of one Julian Casablancas of The Strokes.

He once tried to go into the crowd at a concert only to find that there was no wireless mike at the Universal Ampitheater. "So F it!" he conlcuded and proceeded to tug at his wire all the way toward the back of the front section of seats (approximately row S). He was, of course, mobbed by the hard rock crowd, which led him to make the following statement, which I shall now paraphrase to you, my admiring readers:

"That's right! Hit me! I don't care! I want you to hit me! Beat the s**t outta me! When you see me on the street, I want you to come up to me and say 'Hey Julian!' and beat the s**t out of me!"

I have yet to see Mr. Casablancas on the street.

His lyrics, however, continue to echo in my head in reference to this blog. From The Strokes latest album "First Impressions of Earth," track number 7 called "Ask Me Anything":

"I've got nothing to say,
I've got nothing to say,
I've got nothing to say,
I've got nothing to say,
I've got nothing to say,
I've got nothing to say,
I've got nothing to say,
I'm in utter dismay,
I've got nothing to say."

All evidence to the contrary.