Monday, January 25, 2010


I've decided to start a new home based business. God damnit! That's right bitches (and to a lesser extent, ho's). This week I'm going to start selling Frigsagii! "What's a Frigsagis?" is more than a mere question. All I can say - the answer lies not in your heart, but on your frig.
Alright, here's a technical schematic. Each Frigsagis will be a 1 foot by 3 feet. They're a random collection of internet pics of Brian and Shawn Chrisagis; thus, each will be unique. Tee Hee, you will like these.
Lately, "how many pictures is in a Frigsagis?" is a question I've been hearing a lot. I'm going to make a commitment here - the average Frigsagis will have absolutely no less than 10 photos! I'm considering hiring a quality assurance control specialist.
All come nicely framed in a plexiglass sheet composite w/ magnetic backing. The instructions are simple - you buy them from me and slap them on your frig.
How much will they cost? I'm opting for a variable cost pricing structure.

If I know you and like you - $5.00.
I I know you and I don't like you - $10.00.
If I don't know you and I like you - $5.00.
If I don't know you and I don't like you - $10.00.

Here's a question recently posed by a young, balding Krishna, "Saf, can I get a black and white Frigsagis? Kind of a vintage, retrosagis? How much more would that cost?" Listen here you hippie stank, it's a little too soon to fill custom orders.

You know what? I'm just going to answer all the relevant questions.

Q: Do you ship outside the continental United States?
A: No, I don't ship anywhere. You can only purchase them from the library gift shop.

Q: Will Brian and/or Shawn Chrisagis receive any percentage of the net profits?
A: No

Q: Will you consider donating a percentage of the profits to a charitable organization?
A: Yes. 20% of all net profits will donated to the FFRF (Freedom from Religion Foundation). As a lifetime member, I'm proud to make this donation. The FFRF is a Wisconsin based organization comprised of secular humanists, atheists, agnostics and free thinkers who heavily value the separation of church and state.

Q: Where will you advertise? Saf, how much is that going to cost ya?
A: Well, I'll probably advertise from time to time in the facebook comment section. It will always be free and relevant.

Q: Will you ever modify your strict sales location approach?
A: Yes. If the business takes off, I might sell them out of the back of my Subaru hatch in the parking lot of the 19th HO.

Q: Is there a discount if I buy multiple Frigsagises?
A: First off, the plural of Frisagises is Frigsagii. And yes, I'm considering a modest discount on any evil holiday (such as Halloween) or whenever there's a significant religious inspired terrorist attack (perhaps the destruction of a mosque, stampede at the Hajj, pro-lifer bombs an abortion clinic, anything of that nature).

Q: How many Frigsagii do you hope to sell per month?
A: I honestly don't have a clue.

Q: Where will you get this alleged "plexiglass composite" framing?
A: Probably Staples.

Q: Would you be willing to agree with the following statement... A Frigsagis is a gift from above.
A: This would depend on whether or not you live at a higher altitude. For example, if you reside in Erie, Pennsylvania then the answer would be yes. It is indeed a gift from above. However, if you live below, like my neighbor fuckface, than the answer would have to be no, it's not.

If you have any Frigsagis related questions, feel free to inquire in the comment section below.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

3 misc. items

I'm looking forward to the Jets-Colts game on Sunday. The Colts are predictably 7.5 favorites at home. No surprise there. But I like the Jets chances. Here's why. I think most people would agree that if Peyton Manning has a bad day, the Colts season is over. Basically, most observers would agree that the collective fate of Indy lies in the hands of their quarterback. Well historically, Manning has had difficulty dealing with the 3-4 defense. And Rex Ryan is a strong proponent of this scheme. He'll throw everything but the kitchen sink at Manning. And that Revis cornerback guy is SICK. I think he's the best defensive back in the NFL. I like his attitude as well. Extremely mellow and almost indifferent. No showboating whatsoever.
Rex Ryan is the exact opposite. That fat fuck's brazen enthusiasm and cockiness is infectious. I love the Jets in the underdog role. I hope they make a game of it. I'm expecting it to go down to the wire. Wouldn't it be cool if the team Indy laid down for, knocked them out of the AFC championship? Just like last week in San Diego, all the pressure is on Indy. And even it would throw a wrench in my terror prediction, I'm rooting for Jets.

And this brings me to another football related observation. They finally moved the NFL Pro Bowl out of Honolulu. Great idea. It was about time for a change of venue and it's probably the most anti-climactic way conceivable to end the NFL season. So they moved it to the site of the Superbowl (Miami) a week before the big game on Sunday, Jan. 31. Great idea, right? FUCK NO! Who the hell is running the NFL head office? I'm assuming it's still Paul Tagliabue. They scheduled the game for 7:20 this Sunday on ESPN. For the sake of Jehovah, the Pro Bowl will be running simultaneously with the NFC Championship game in New Orleans. What football fan would rather watch the Pro Bowl (which is extremely glamorous and pussified) instead of watching one of the 2 most dramatic games of the entire season? I'm not saying the Vikings-Saints game will be a barnburner, although most sensible people are expecting an exciting shoot-out. I'm just left in a complete state consternation and utter dismay. Put the game on Saturday night! Don't have it coincide with championship Sunday. If you're a REAL football fan, the NFC/AFC title games are far more exciting than the Superbowl. Unbelievable!

Stepping into a different arena, I'm a big fan of the Kroger brand FUN DAZE SUNDAES ice cream cones (preferably the Vanilla ice cream w/ caramel). The Kroger brand absolutely crushes the Nestle version. You'd think it would be the other way around, but it's not even close. And there's a considerable price discrepancy as well.

And onto my final thought. I was watching Larry King Live last night and they had on American woman (I'm pretty sure she was a missionary) who had been rescued from the rubble in Haiti. She had spent several days trapped praying for her survival. She was flanked by her two sons in a hospital bed and seemed to be doing quite well considering her life threatening ordeal. Larry asked her what it was that kept her going. Her response was, "My lord and savior Jesus Christ. Thank you Jesus." You know what, I hear ya loud and clear. I don't really have a problem with thanking mythical beings, if that's your thing.
But they also had the split screen with three Americans. They were the Emergency Medical Technicians and part of a first responder unit that flew to Haiti. They provided details about how they heard knocking sounds, extricated her from piles of debris and then whisked her off for the appropriate medical care. These guys seemed very conscientious and uninterested in the spotlight - the ultimate humanitarians. Plus, heading down to Haiti right now is not the safest proposition, especially when nightfall approaches.
My dilemma was with the woman's constant, continual gratitude expressed toward Jesus. When Larry King asked her if she wanted to say anything to the EMT's, all she could muster was a brief "thank you, but it was the power of Jesus that kept her going until they got there to help me." You see, they were the ones who helped her out, but it was the power of Jesus that saved her life. I get it.
Now I realize that if you've encountered a near death experience, the majority of humans are going to get a little spiritual - even if an atheist like yours truly. Hey, it's whatever works when your life is hanging by a thread, right? This woman just sickened me with her lack of appreciation in the real rescue crew. I think it would have been amusing if one of the responders had been a Muslim and gotten into an argument on live tv. He could have said, "Well Larry, I don't think it was the power of Jesus. Trust me Mr. King, it was the power of Allah that saved her life." Even better, he could have gone on an atheist or agnostic rant. Though, that would take some massive effrontery of biblical proportions.
One day, it's my dream to see some quarterback that just won the Superbowl or some gutsy politician who won an upset election come on live tv and go out of his/her way to make it known that they're not in the habit of thanking imaginary ghosts. Maybe say something like, "I just don't want the viewing public to think I'm crazy or mentally ill. It's just that I don't believe in things like gods, ghosts or goblins." I guess we had Kathy Griffin (the comedian). When she won a Peoples Choice Award, she told Jesus to "suck it." Well, not the greatest moment but at least it's a start.

Arrest Maury Povich

Maury Povich often has these lie detector test shows where they go after cheating men. It's probably his second biggest ratings grabber right behind paternity testing. They keep the formula relatively simple. Here's a hypothetical scenario...

Maury is trying to console a woman named Cupcake who thinks her fiance has had sex with over 20 women. Cupcake has streams of tears rolling down her face. "Maury, I know he's cheatin'. I found sex stains, Maury. SEX STAINS!" Now she's trembling and continues to murmur the phrase "sex stains" under her breath.

Maury looks at her, "Well Cupcake, we gave your fiance T-Bone a lie detector test, but what you don't know is that yesterday, he was in our green room. With the help of our special ops crew, we put him in a room with a sexy decoy." The studio audience begins to hoot and holler, almost like a Tonight Show audience listening to Conan O'Brien rip on NBC. They're all too familiar with what's about to transpire.

Maury rolls the footage and it shows T-Bone (who weighs close to 340 lbs.) being sexually solicited by a Tyra Banks look-a-like. She's asking him what kind of sexual positions he likes the most. T-Bone likes to do it doggy style. The sexy decoy starts riling up the unsuspecting T-Bone, "Ohh, that's my favorite too. Can you show you me how that would work?" T-Bone begins making these ass-slapping gestures and with a Flavor Flavesque voice says, "Yeahhhh Boyyy!"

Then the sexy decoy asks T-Bone if he wants a preview. "Would you like to see them?" as she slowly lifts up her shirt exposing her breasts. T-Bone is on the verge of a diabetic seizure. Anyway, the tv screen splits and they show Cupcake sobbing hysterically, "Maury, we has 3 kids together and he gonna hook up wit dat skank ho?"
Maury is trying to console her, "Cupcake, Cupcake what's wrong Cupcake? Is everything ok? Now Cupcake, you're 7 months pregnant? If I bring T-Bone out here, I don't wanna see you get up in his face. OK Cupcake?"

Just a brief aside, the stranger the guests' name, the more compelled Maury is to repeat it with ever-increasing frequency. This is standard Mauryesque protocol. I'm not trying to play the race card. He'll pull the same shit with white guys. Names like "Tex-Mex" or "Big Daddy."

Anyway, forgive the rambling intro. Here's why I think Maury Povich should be arrested and charged with aiding and abetting an act of prostitution. It's my contention that the "sexy decoy" is basically a prostitute. She's being compensated for exposing herself and trying to administer some limited form of sexual gratification. Just because the lie detector results are being held in abeyance is not a mitigating factor. Can we not logically assume that the production company in charge of financing the show is responsible for her wages. This company, Mo Po Productions, is exclusively owned by host Maury Povich.

I'm on solid ground here. In some cases, the sexy decoy will encourage the man to expose himself and even allow him to rub up against her. This is an act of prostitution. How can this not be against state law and in violation of FCC regulations? Even worse, to the extent Maury has profited, he could be charged with criminal conspiracy and possibly some form of interstate racketeering as his show is disseminated in all 50 states. Fox Network should be held accountable as well for complicity in this whole sordid affair.

He recently switched the location of his show from Manhattan to Stamford, CT. Perhaps, the NYC prosecuting attorney was preparing indictments. This reminds me of when Jerry Springer was hassled by Chicago city legislators for promoting and condoning misdemeanor and felonious assault. Granted, Springer's show was a bit more treacherous, but he ended up being prosecuted in a court of law. I think we should do the same to Maury. He ain't nothin' but a damn pimp! Perhaps the most wealthiest, most famous pimp of them all.

Rudy Guliani is back in the spotlight lately. He's a valued commentator on Fox. He turned the world upside down when he rid New York City of the renegade window shield wiper brigades. Maybe he could renew his law degree in Connecticut and launch an investigation of Maury. He could even get Connie Chung to do some of the dirty investigative work. He would then reveal the results of "Operation Mo Po" on a primetime Fox News Special. Enamored with a return to the spotlight, Guliani would announce a surprise presidential bid for 2012. After he secured the Republican nomination, he would ask Sarah Palin to join his candidacy as the prospective VP. Their catchy campaign slogan "NO MORE MAURY" would swoon the U.S. electorate and vault him to the presidency. At last, the ultimate dream comes true - 3 boobs in the White House.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

no postage necessary

Although, I don't carry a credit card balance, I am thoroughly disgusted with the major bank bailouts and unscrupulous credit card rate hikes. I've also had enough of the outrageous compensation packages for CEO's that ran their companies into a ditch and were promptly awarded ludicrous severance packages. Aside from refraining from using plastic, what can one person do? Well, here's what I'm going to do.

Today, I'm considering posting the following message as my status update on facebook. Although I can't stand the endless requests to copy and paste these things, I think this one has merit.

If you're disgusted with the federal bank bailouts, unfair credit card rate hikes and outrageous executive compensation packages, here's how to fight back. Anytime these companies mail you an offer, it will have a return envelope that will read "NO POSTAGE NECESSARY IF MAILED IN THE UNITED STATES." Fill it with as much extra newspaper as possible, seal it up and drop it in any mailbox. Feel free to copy and paste this as your status update.

Now, you're saying - Well Saf, if everyone does this, they'll just pass on the added costs in the form of higher overdrafts costs, rising interest rates and endless hidden fees. Well, perhaps they will. However, if everyone did this, there would eventually reach a BREAKING POINT where people would refrain from using the mega-banks like Citigroup, Bank of America, Chase, etc. that utilize these mass mailings. Considering the vast amount of credit card offers everyone gets in the mail, this could be a viable weapon of civil disobedience. Plus, I think it sends a pretty stern message that main street is sick of Wall Street.

The more I think about this idea, the more I'm falling in love with it. What a simple way for the average consumer to express their dissatisfaction with the insurance and bank bailouts. Plus, I've always hated these unsolicited mailings that raise the risk of identity theft. Also, I'm not one who recycles, but I'd be more than happy to make some company like AIG recycle newspaper on my behalf. Kind of a subtle irony there - forcing an insurance conglomerate to act like a bunch of hippie environmentalists. I also like the circular nature of it all. They flood us with wasted paper. Why not flood them back?

Let me work on the exact wording so it's a little more compelling. I could see a message like this spreading like wildfire on Facebook. Trust me, it would spread faster than a chlamydia outbreak at Godfather's on Wheeling Island. I'll post it tomorrow. Sure beats those, "If you really love your cat, clean the piss and shit out of its litter box at least twice a day" copy and paste requests.

And I just thought a little more about my idea. It helps keep the U.S. Postal Service in business. Their profit margins increase based on the uptick in volume. And even though, they're hardly the most efficient and effective branch of the US government - at least they help keep the middle class in this country kicking. Decent jobs with decent benefits.

Fuck the banks and mortgage providers. Fuck the insurance companies. And if you don't like my idea, Fuck you. I'm on a bit of a "blogging tear" thanks to the encouragement of Stacy Del Boca Vista. Place the blame on her.

Out of the woods?

Alright, so if the reports are true, Tiger Woods just checked into a sex rehab clinic. Ohhh, this poor man. His empire is crumbling and the only thing people seem worried about is the crisis in Haiti and that the Senate seat in Massachusetts went Republican. I'm kind of surprised Tiger made it back to the forefront of the news so quickly. After the Haiti disaster, I thought he would be given a "brief exemption" from the front page of the news cycle. Honestly, it makes the major news purveyors look juvenile and a bit pernicious. You're reporting on the mass tragedy and human suffering, and then the next moment a panel is yapping about Woods' sex addiction.

Brit Hume took a shitload of heat a few weeks ago. He made a bold suggestion on one of the early talk shows. When the question was posed, "What should Tiger do?," Hume said, "Well, I believe he's currently a Buddhist, but I think he should convert to Christianity and ask for forgiveness." The instantaneous backlash was brutal. Hume was verbally assaulted from every angle imaginable. How dare he impugn the Buddhist religion. What makes him such an expert on absolution from sin? As a serious journalist, how can he be offering advice on accepting Christ as his lord and savior? Blah.

Here's what's truly crazy. I thought Hume's suggestion was total nonsense and at the same time, utterly brilliant. First, I'll address the nonsense aspect. I've always found it amusing (and very sad), that anyone can commit the most horrific crimes against humanity and somehow be magically cured if he mumbles a few words and gets some holy water splashed on his/her forehead. I'm so glad there was a guy who died for my sins. When my time comes, I'll be sure to mumble the infamous, "I accept J.C. into my left ventricle and portions of my upper aorta line." This way I'll get the free pass to heaven. Suh-weet! Think about it. All those years of not having to attend church every Sunday and pray my ass off. The size of my ass being rather diminutive, it's even more reassuring. All those Steeler games I would have missed. Some of those missed field goals and blown coverages - I should have prayed harder. In retrospect, it might have made no difference. Come to think of it, each NFL team should have a faith healer on their sideline. Considering the FACT that roughly 3/4 the U.S. population believe in the healing power of God, shouldn't there be a faith healer for each team to help with those internal injuries. Well, only things like strained muscles, flu-like symptoms, and pulled groins. After all, healing only works for the internal stuff you can't see. Check out the website "why won't god heal amputees." Just google it - one of the best sites I've ever seen.

Sorry, that turned into a bit of a rant. Seriously though, I thought Brit Hume's comments were well within the ballpark. Woods has a near ca-jillion dollar empire and this gives him an instant free pass with most of his major advertisers. And all he has to do is just say, "I'm not a Buddhist anymore. I have become a Christian." Could this be any fucking easier? The vast majority of the U.S. public will just fall in line. "Ohhh, Tiger was a troubled soul, but now he'll be alright. Praise his name."

Technically, I don't even think he would have to say it. He could just have his publicist release a statement. This might work if he's worried about the Buddhist hypocrisy backlash angle. I'd hate to piss off a bunch of Buddhists, but in retrospect, better them than an angry mob of Muslims or Christians. Yeah, I'd have to conclude the Buddhists are more expendable in this regard. Less likely to raise a ruckus, unleash waves of suicide bombers and call upon God to extract vengeance upon thee infidels.

Here's another way he could become a Christian while maintaining a degree of culpable deniability. Tiger seemed to be do fairly well when it came to texting his mistresses. Why not send out a mass text - "Tiger here, I heart Jesus." Then, call the cops and report his phone stolen. BINGO WAS HIS GOD DAMN NAME-O! This is probably the best way. It's the old - I got drunk, wrecked my car, passed out, woke up and called it in stolen routine." Woods totally covers his ass from all the angles. And it's not that tough to get a new phone either. I know the perfect gal who could set him up with one of those 50 dollar a month plans. How's that for a transaction cost savings miracle? Good lord - $600/year to keep your hands on a cool billion. Talk about Econ 101. Possibly the biggest rate of return on an investment ever conceived. I should be the on the morning news circuit. Don't worry Brit, you could fetch me my coffee and doughnuts. I currently drink the Dunkin Donuts medium roast (no cream, no sugar, just black is fine). Skip the doughnuts though, it's all sugar and empty carbs.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

some more e

Another paternity test observation to help celebrate the divisional round of the NFL playoffs. I was watching this irate black woman named Tabitha. She was in the process of testing 2 men to determine who was the father of baby Moneesha. Her dilemma is unusual in that she's 100% sure that one of the two is the father. She's screaming, "Maury, I'm one thousand percent sure that one of these losers is the daddy! They had better step up and be a man. How can THEY deny my baby? Moneesha needs to know who her daddy is!"

What's comical about this is evident. Her broken grammar aside, Tabitha is having extreme difficulty assigning pronouns. "I know who my baby daddy is! It's one of them." Honestly, this is some really funny shit. And Tabitha's on an absolute tirade. Screaming, ranting and raving. Her hostility reaches new heights as Maury welcomes the 2 guys from backstage. Neither are particularly enthusiastic to hear the results. Tabitha is flailing madly and screeching, "Let's find out! Let's find out! Let's find out! Let's find out!" She yelled it five times in a blitzkrieg fashion that would make even the likes of Don Rumsfeld proud. Maury reads the results and sure enough, the second guy is the father. I'm just relieved that Tabitha's journey is over.

Obviously, there's plenty of occasions where women come on the stage and are 1,000 % or 5 million % sure they know who the father is. Lamentably, it takes 5 or 6 return visits. Their guarantees aren't really that amusing. Tabitha's was different though. She broke new ground in assuring the viewing public. She laid out the terms and the unique framework. I will say one thing. We found out! We found out! We found out!

Friday, January 15, 2010

More E

Most people know that I'm a huge fan Maury Povich paternity testing. Always having been a keen observer of the human condition, I just find this raw-based drama intriguing. I also enjoy how they condense everything into 5-6 minute intervals. This way you get the instant gratification.
I can already hear the complaints. "Oh Saf, you probably hope they're all "not the father" and hope the woman have to test more than 10 men. Not even remotely true. While I do like the women who come on and are 1 million percent positive they know who the daddy is only to be sadly mistaken, that's not really my angle. Remember, I'm a connoisseur of the more subtle moments. Sometimes, it's the little things that go unnoticed. Allow me to elaborate on some of these superior anecdotes. I'll touch on a few specific incidents and then reveal the conceptual nature of what I like to call the "Maury progression."

I'll start it off with a true shining moment from the early days of Maury. I'd like to think this kind of set the stage for great things to come. Maury's haunting intro...
"One night LaRhonda met James at a party. Later that night, they fell in love. Well guess what. After that night, LaRhonda claims that James abandoned her. And then 1 month later, LaRhonda finds out she's pregnant with her baby girl "Jamelia."
On the screen, they flash a smiling 5 month old baby girl with massive pink loop earrings and a onesie outfit that predictably reads "DADDY'S GIRL."
Anyway, LaRhonda has the studio crowd amped up. She's demanding pampers and wipes. James needs to step up and be a father. James emerges from backstage to a chorus of deafening boos. James is equally adamant, "I ain't the daddy! Yous a hood rat! Holla! Holla!" The place is going nuts. Maury confidently stands up and retrieves the sacred envelope. He opens it and reads, "When it comes to 5 month old baby Jamelia; James, you are NOT the father."
LaRhonda runs off the stage screaming and James takes off into the audience doing a variety of calisthenics and giving out a series of high fives. Then, the moment of truth - James runs backstage. At this moment, I'm expecting a taunting barrage of "I told you so's." Not going to happen. James completely ignores the sobbing LaRhonda and runs toward an elderly white janitor. Then, in one swift motion, he grabs a mop from the old man's frail grip and begins to spiritedly mop the backstage area! A rare, unprecedented exhibition of janitorial excellence after a tumultuous paternity situation deserves recognition. James, much like 9/11. We will never forget.

Another one of my favorite "not the father" moments was when a white married couple from rural Georgia were on the show. I'm not sure of the names, but we'll call them Tex and Trisha. Well, they met at church bingo and fell in love. They flash the wedding picture and it's painfully obvious that she's about 8 months pregnant. Maury is beaming. But here's the problem. Let's take a look at their baby Houston. Baby Houston's pic shows up on the screen amidst the heckling and jeers of the audience. The baby is obviously mixed. Now Tex weighs about 280 lbs and has red hair and freckles. Tex's complexion borders on alabaster with a hint of eggshell albino. So he probably has a valid point. "Maury, I don't make black babies."
But here's the interesting twist. Tex doesn't seem angry, just sad and confused. He's blubbering all over the place. Trish reassuringly tells Tex she loves him about 6 times in a row. And here's Maury with the result, "Tex, you are not the father." Tex's heart is ripped to shreds. He hits the floor as Trish tries to comfort him. She's trying to embrace him but her bony arms are basically strangling the poor slob in a UFC chokehold gone awry. Still weeping uncontrollably, Tex gets to his feet and says to Maury...
"Maury, anyone can be a father, but it takes a real man to be a daddy. I don't care if I'm not that baby's daddy, because that baby's mine. I'm his daddy. I change his diapers. I'm Houston's daddy, Maury. He might not be mine, but I wanna see my son! Maury, where's my son?" I'm thinking to myself - what the fuck? Tex makes no sense at all.
They bring out the baby and Tex embraces him and Trish. Then, Maury wraps his arms around all 3 of them. But what can we gain from Tex's cryptic, blubbering comments? It's my contention that Tex already knew his fate. Somewhere in the back of his rednecked brain, he had already deduced that he was not the biological father. Then, he mentally prepared himself and had a premeditated response for when he was told that he wasn't the father. But when the moment of truth came, his comments were all disjointed and confusing. Personally, it was during that instant, I fell in love with Tex. You wouldn't think that him and I would bond via the satellite waves, but it happened.

This post is making me realize that I have an abundance of Maury Povich observations. Technically, they're called MoPo's. MoPo is the ingenious name for his production company. I just might make this an ongoing theme for a few more posts.

Here are 2 novel ideas for future paternity shows. Block off the backstage area. It's way to easy to run off the stage screaming in a fit of despair. Then, these women always seem to find the couch where they can bury their head. This robs me and the entire viewing public of the best part. I want to see the tears. On several occasions, I've noticed that the women really aren't crying at all. They just bury their head and scream., "NO!, NO!, It's not right! Maury, that can't be right!, NO! NO!
My solution to the problem - when you block of the easy backstage retreat, you're only left with 3 viable options...
A. Seek comfort from the man in question (not likely, since he's busy dancing and performing urban gymnastics).
B. Seek comfort form Maury. This is the more likely avenue because she can bury her face in his sympathetic shoulder.
C. Or, and this is my personal favorite, be forced to seek comfort and solace from a random stranger in the studio audience. Preferably a large black woman. She would be forced to wander through the aisle until this mythical woman named Hazel appeared. Hazel would embrace her and say, "Don't worry girl. I'm gonna help you raise that baby. Hazel gonna make everything alright. Shhhh. Shhhh. It's ok."

My other thought for today involves the "Maury progression." There's one thing that has become painfully obvious with these paternity shows. Hypothetically, let's say there are 3 guys (most likely they're brothers, or at the very least, cousins) on stage waiting to hear the results. We can definitively make the following assessment. The first 2 will NOT be the father. The third guy will either be the dad or none of them will. So the second Maury mentions the first two guys, they should be instantly relieved or heartbroken (depending on their desired outcome)? Maury's not going to announce who the father is right off the bat. That would destroy his whole game plan of trying to heighten the level of excitement/tension as he runs through the progression. It's the equivalent of celebrating your arrival at base camp when you climb Mt. Everest. Makes no sense. So obviously here's the lesson, the second Maury chooses your name first, you can prematurely jump for joy or collapse in misery. Why sweat it? It's not like Maury is suddenly going to break with this sensible time honored tradition.

I'll have more on this crapulence in the future. Honestly, I've always wanted to put this shit down.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Fox news?

Estimates of the casualty toll in the Haiti earthquake are all over the place. Anywhere from 30,000 to 500,000 in a country of about 10 million. I can't even fathom the immense human suffering and what will transpire in the aftermath. Americans really just don't have the ability to discern what constitutes human misery on a massive scale. We're still stuck on Hurricane Katrina and the wintry cold spell that gripped the midwest.

Pat Robertson's comments struck me as completely twisted. He claimed the citizens of Haiti struck a "deal with the devil" and that is why their country has been repeatedly victimized by hurricanes, natural disasters and continual poverty. Obviously, their voodoo worship is the reason god has decided to punish them. But then why the fuck is he encouraging his followers to donate money to the Haitian relief fund? Wouldn't that be the equivalent of assisting the followers of satan?

Rush Limbaugh's comments were even more predictable. He opted to rip apart Obama for his speedy desire to help people of color as a means to cement his popularity with African American voters. Then, he lambasted Obama for not addressing the Amsterdam/Detroit attempted terrorist attack as quickly. That's like tying the 2001 Anthrax attacks to the Indonesian tsunami.

But here is what I found most fascinating as I flipped through the news channels seeking coverage of the earthquake. Fox chose to barely mention it. While CNN and MSNBC were totally committed to this natural disaster of epic proportions, Fox "News" barely even mentioned it. They just ran tag lines at the bottom of the screen. How can they call themselves a "news" channel if they fail to report on the biggest story on the planet.

Instead, they chose to air an entire hour of Glenn Beck interviewing Sarah Palin. She was happy to share her earth-shattering views about how we live in the greatest country in the world and how she doesn't understand why the current leadership wants to be more like Europe. Then, she rehashed her views about the 2008 presidential campaign and how we need to reign in government spending. Next up, she went after Obama on national security. For the love of Christ...

Right now, Hannity is talking about the political races in Massachusetts and who will eventually replace Sen. Ted Kennedy. He's also spewing rants about socialized health care and more bank bailouts.

I hate to sound cynical, but there's only one logical conclusion. The producers of Fox News have made a voluntary decision that their viewers probably don't really care much about the human suffering in Haiti. Could it be racially motivated? I doubt it. I'm guessing they figure that the other major news outlets have it sufficiently covered. Therefore, let's just stick with Sarah Palin interview. After all, she's our future bread and butter.

For Fox to seriously portray itself a news outlet and not even remotely provide minimal coverage on a cataclysmic tragedy of this magnitude is beyond belief. I'm not even talking about the notion of "fair and balanced." I'm just talking about what constitutes "news" itself. Even right now, there's a panel bitching about Harry Reid. Unbelievable.

Monday, January 04, 2010

Dallas Cowboys

I often speak of my putrid disgust for the Dallas Cowboys franchise. What specifically bothers me? Well, it's a combination of several factors. I never cared for the "America's Team" label. Kind of an obnoxious precedent. They seem to derive pleasure from being a microcosm for the massive ego of the U.S. citizenry. I think the star logo exudes this "I'm a superstar" vibe.
And although the connection is admittedly weak, I truly despise restaurants modeled after the Texas steakhouse concept. A pimpled pipsqueak waiter approaches the table with an over sized cowboy hat, scribbling his name on the paper toweled table, he nervously looks at me and inquires, "Howdy, my name's Chet. What can I do you for?" As I'm about to reply, some loud fat kid a few tables over yells at his mom, "I wanna hot fudge sundae!" Then, the obese punk flicks a peanut shell that hits my shoe. All of a sudden, the Honky Tonk Ba-Donk-A-Donk song starts blaring and a sea of line-dancers spontaneously takes the stage. What the fuck is this? Then, my worst fears materialize as I peruse the menu. "The Greatest Steak in the World" is on special so I'll probably get that. It comes with "the biggest buttery baked potato" and the "you'll go koo koo for our korn on the kob." They don't even try to make the names interesting. Just dumb it down to levels previously unknown. Suffice to say, they make the food that I git to eat it.
Most know I'm a stadium fanatic. I love the concept of mammoth human gatherings. I even find the mega-church concept intriguing. How's that for irony? My fascination with coordinated throngs supersedes my contempt for organized religion. But the new Cowboys Stadium? It's so over-the-top, I find it revolting. They constructed a hanging widescreen so large, that a punter can hit it. The unprecedented desire to make the world's biggest flatscreen resulted in a threat to the integrity of the game. But hey, everything's bigger in Texas, right? Perhaps these jerks need a reality check. Honestly, I think Dallas ownership would reap great pride in constructing the world's largest dildo. Just maybe there's a downside. Bigger is NOT always better. There's no acknowledgment of the law of diminishing marginal utility. This is Dallas, Texas. Things like that don't apply here.
Cowboys owner Jerry Jones makes me physically nauseous. His face has been so heavily botoxed. It kind of resembles the smoothness of a mango I just saw at Jebbia's. And it has the bland hue of a turnip. But it's the fact that he always goes rushing down to the sidelines when the game is on the line. Apparently, he thinks his players "need" his encouragement. Screw the coaching staff and their assistants. Those morons don't know what they're doing. I'm the one who signs their paychecks. I know what's best. As if the millionaire thugs on the sideline really give a damn about Jerry Jones and his perception of Lawrence Welk/Liberace opulence.
This brings me to my prediction. Dallas is notorious for folding down the stretch in the playoffs. It's one of the few things I really look forward to once a year come playoff time. Usually, the blame falls on their QB Tony Homo. Here's what I hope happens this year. Dallas beats Philly in the wildcard round and advances to play at Minnesota in the divisional round - a plausible scenario so far. Alright, it's late in the 4th quarter. For those of you who don't know, the Cowboys have been besieged with kicking problems this year. They got rid of Nick Folk and brought in placekicker Shaun Suisham. He's accurate but not a very long kicker. So as I said, the clock is winding down and Dallas has driven to the 10 yard line with 4 seconds left. They're down by 1 point and a field goal cinches the win. All of a sudden, a minor controversy about how much time is left on the game clock emerges. Wade Phillips (the coach) is calmly trying to get things right with officials. All of a sudden, Jerry Jones charges the field and pushes the ref. As his monster players force him to the sideline, the ref throws a personal flag foul for making contact with the official. But wait, there's more. Another ref threw a flag for him being on the field in the first place. That's TWO personal fouls with 4 seconds left. All of a sudden, what once was a gimme 10 yarder becomes a 40 yarder (+ the 12 extra yards). Now that poor, just recently signed kicker is staring down a 52 yard. Jerry Jones is still bitching up a storm on the sidelines. One of the lineman, pro bowler Flozell Adam has taken matters into his own hands. He has immobilized Jones by sitting on him.
The Cowboys snap the ball, the kick is up, right down the middle and it falls a yard short. The Vikings players storm the field as the crowd at the Hubert Humphrey Metrodome goes wild. The next day, Jerry Jones calls a press conference and fires head coach Wade Phillips. He then explains to the press how they're going to be looking for a long kicker since they've had special teams problems all year. From this day forth, the entire Cowboys organization is viewed as the biggest joke in the NFL. But hey, at least they've got the biggest stadium. Right on! How about 'dem Cowboys?
Jerry Jones eventually decides that he's the best candidate for head coach. He takes over the reigns of the entire organization (GM & head coach). Dallas posts consecutive 0-16 seasons and the stadium becomes accustomed to attendance figures hovering around the 30,000 mark. Dare to dream. Dare to dream.