Yinzer/atheist/hillbilly impressions of Hurricane Sandy benefit concert (12-12-12)

I was just talking to Gigi.  She's on a shooting.  Apparently, there are about 4 separate shooting incidents every night.  Welcome to Shotsburgh.

Anyway, we're talking about the hurricane Sandy 12-12-12 benefit rock concert.  A this time, I'd like to officially praise the lord on behalf of the benefactors that insure the event is broadcast in a curse-free fashion (I just saw them edit out Adam Sandler for possibly using the word "tits"... lame).  Ah yes, the magnanimous advertisers.  Chase Bank Corp, the Verizon Foundation (whatever that means), and who knows whom else.

So we're sitting here yapping and we're gradually coming to realize that we've recently seen just about EVERYONE who is performing at Madison Square Garden.  Seriously, when I say everyone, I honestly mean everyone.  Well, except maybe Alicia Keys.  And I don't think she tours that much.  Maybe a prolonged stint in Vegas.  Or maybe that's Rod Stewart.  Who really knows?  Who really cares?

So I was thinking... I've made a conscious decision to watch this thing in its entirety.  So while I view this whole benefit concert, I might as well share my impressions of the bands and compare/contrast them with their recent Pittsburgh appearances.  I'll do this pretty much in real time.  So don't expect too much in terms of the customary flowery language and nauseating pontification.

In NYC - Springsteen opened with "Land of Hope and Dreams."  Good choice.  Then he played that new tune "Wrecking Ball."  Weak selection but it sounded decent I suppose.  The Boss rambled a while about the joys of masturbatory discovery in his teen years in a run-down Asbury pubic playground.  Ahh, memories... a tribute to the finer things in life.  He ended it with a semi-rousing rendition of "Born to Run."  Him and Jon Bon Jehovah knocked out the blessed duet.  I don't think his mic was on for the first few stanzas.  Speaking of stanzas, they just showed Tony Danza manning the Samsung cell-phone bank.  He appears somewhat frail and greying, a distant memory of a dashing, testosterone infused housekeeper vacuuming a curtain.  Hold me closer Tony Danza - Elton John.

In Pittsburgh - Springsteen was totally bad ass.  October 12, 2012 at Consol Energy Center.  We even saw him earlier that day at an Obama rally.  An acoustic show on the Pitt campus at Soldiers & Sailors Hall.  Faith healer and legendary televangelist (the 2 terms are mutually inclusive) Benny Hinn was supposed to perform there in 2010, but I think he got wind of my plans to tar and feather his ass.  So he canceled.  Coward.

Billy Crystal comedic interlude - relatively weak.  Not much of a reception from the audience.  They showed NJ Gov. Chris Christie waving from the crowd.  Not to sound obviously mean, but do they provide his fat ass with two seats?  There's no way that guy could fit comfortably in just one MSG seat for the duration.  If they give him 2 seats (like on an airplane), do the disassemble the arm rests?  Inquiring minds want to know.  These are the kinds of questions I would ask the celebs (Chelsea Clinton, Whoopie, et al) working the phone bank.

IN NYC - Roger Waters has a killer intro tune - "Into the Flesh."  I attentively watched to see if they would ram the airplane into the makeshift wall.  Some producer must have ultimately decided that this would've been in bad taste (you know, 9/11 anxiety).  Good choice there.  The Bio Channel people got it right.  Eddie Vedder played with him but didn't seem to get overly-involved until the power vocal section of "Comfortably Numb."  Wise.

In Pittsburgh - July 3, 2012.  We went to see The Wall performed in its entirety.  This whole event never really seemed like a concert, more like a masterpiece.  Amateur descriptions don't cut it.

I don't even think I'd want to see one of those Eddie Vedder solo acoustic shows.  I mean... I guess I'd hit it if he came to the Weirton Community Center, but I wouldn't go out of my way.  Though please do not confuse my rigid stance with his full-time band.  They go by the name of Pearl Jam.  Recently speaking, we saw 'em in Philly (twice in 2009).  One of my all time favorite concerts - the opening show of a 4 night run at the demolished Spectrum.   Another time in Columbus (killer show in 2010) and one more in Cleveland (somewhat blah - I was in a bad mood :( .  I threw in the extra parenthesis there but it looked weird, so removed it and added an additional, perfunctory space before the period.  See... now you know I care.  I really do.  Otherwise I wouldn't write this shit to begin with.

In NYC - Bon Jovi was luscious.  I wonder if Emil's brother is still his chiropractor.  That dude really is the chiropractor to the stars.  Among his other notable clients are Bill Belichek and many of the New England Patriots.  He should run a commercial in the Philly/Boston metro areas with that "BACK that Thang Up" song.   Youz a big fine women woncha back that thang up.  Seriously though, Bon Jovi is gay.  He's even gayer if your name is Sasha and you're a multi-divorcee in her late 40's.  And Richie Sambora should drink shots of Sambuca from Cher's butthole.

In Pittsburgh - We actually did a Bon Jovi (February 11, 2011).  It was mildly amusing.  Not really a fan.  Never was.  Even during the glam rock heydays of the late 80's.  But Gig did snag a set list.   

In NYC - Eric Clapton came out and lulled the crowd into:

A. Sleep
B. A mild state of annoyance
C. An eagerness to see who comes on stage next
D. All of the Above.

yep, you guessed it.  "D" all the way.

In Pittsburgh - I've NEVER seen Eric Clapton.  I have little desire.  Yeah, I know - Cocaine, Sunshine of Yinz Love.  He sounds like he does on the radio.  Exhausting, boring, beleaguered.  Strangely enough, he's coming this spring.  Here's where I rank my sense of urgency to go see Clapton (out of 5).

5.  Sitting through an entire Saved by the Bell reunion show.  Hosted by who else but the untouchable duo of Mr. Belding and Miss Bliss.  Throw in Screech if you seek the trio effect.
4.  Eric Clapton at Consol Energy Center - April 6, 2013.  Isn't tonight that end of the world Mayan prophecy crap?  So how we gonna make it to the planet Claptonite?
3.  A Benny Hinn fire crusade.
2.  An Erik Estrada autograph signing at the grand re-opening of the Ohio Valley Mall in St. Clairsville, Ohio.
1.  Oglebay Festival of Lights on Christmas Eve.  I've said it before and I'll say it again.  All that's needed is a pair of hedge clippers with an added dash of sassy panache.  They'd call it "The Night the Lights Went Out in Wheeling."

As I type these words, Alicia Keys is wailing to the crowd these themes of love and perseverance.  Put those cell phones in the air !!!  For the love of Allah.  Someone needs to put a stop to this concert cell phone waving bullshit.  For there is only one Ozzy Osbourne.  And it's called a fucking cigarette lighter!  And it's the only acceptable thing to "let us see."

I have deemed the behavior of Alica to be unacceptable.  Hence, she will not get a review.
They just showed a bunch of Sopranos characters - Janice, Bobby Bacala, Johnny Sac, Paulie Walnuts, Steve Buscemi (Tony Uncle Al).  Very cool.  Man, how I miss that show.  Probably the best dramatic series of all time.  If you differ, I must ask you a simple question.  What is better than the Sopranos?

In NYC - the Rolling Stones were kind of weak.  Poor song choices.  "You Got Me Rockin" and "Jumpin Jack Flash"???   Why don't they let me write the set list?  Should have had Alicia Keys come out and do the Gimme Shelter bit.  I suppose they might do it at the end.

In Pittsburgh - Saw the 2006 PNC Park Stones show when Pearl Jam opened.  One of my all time favs.  Can't get over the notion of them playing the ballpark.  Had to exit early to accommodate the lascivious cravings of the limo crew.  Understandable... but it was a Stones show for Christ sake.  So all in all, that's a definitive fail.  Did provide a nice contrast though.  And the Pearl Jam set list was a pretty lame one.  Still though, very cool. 

IN NYC - The Who are on right now.  They sound very strong.  Gotta love how they edit out the "who the fuck are you" part.  I hate the FCC.  And I even have a valid reason.  Their enfeebled, puppet leader, Secretary Julius Genachowski has neither the integrity nor the courage to respond to the letter I sent him on March 1, 2012.  What a fucking baby.

In the steel-service industrialized city - Yep, we saw 'em just a little bit ago (Nov. 11, 2012 at Consol).  They did the entire Quadrophenia show and threw in about 6-7 hit tunes at the end.  I had a good time, but the concert itself seemed a bit lethargic.  Weak crowd turnout.  Upper level was only half-full.

The MSG show is still on - Pinball Wizard.  They just sound really refreshed compared to the show we just saw.  Should have played "Won't Get Fooled Again" and/or "Behind Blue Eyes."  But I guess they only get a few tunes.  It'd probably be best to leave it to their discretion.  I hope Eddie Vedder comes out for Teenage Wasteland.  Yeah... I know it's called Baba O'Reilly.  Trust me.  I get it.  But he didn't.  They didn't.  Wait... now "Love, Reign O'er Me" is on.  Still no Eddie Vedder.  Maybe they'll have everyone come out for a "finale-rocking-crescendo-Mayan holocaust-end of eternity closer sing-a-long, sing out strong song."  I hadn't given it any thought until now.  Gotta be the standard Paul McCartney "Hey Jude."  Maybe get Jay Z, Alicia Keys et al and have them to do the Empire State of Mind bit.  Since I'm scribbling this in real time, I suppose we'll find out together (at least in realm of the fantasy blogosphere).

Maybe I'll do my first ever Tweet!  I secured the sonofsaf hash tag shit a few months ago, but just can't summon the motivation.  See... it's just like a Hanukkah present.  Oy vey, wipe your nose with that schmatta.  You gotta unwrap that dradel.  After all, we made it out of clay.  So just go out and play.  That's some spiffy lyrics.  Maybe Creed or The Nicklebacks should turn Jew.   Maybe that's just what the world needs.  A crappy Jew rock band.  You know something... I think the lead singer of Green Day is a Jew.  Dude gives me a fucking headache.

IN NYC - Kanye West is on stage.  He's a hip-hopper.  Jay-Z too.

Up in the Burgh - 
They just sent Gig to Consol to cover a rash of "mass marijuana inhalations" at the Wiz Khalifa concert.  There are "many" fans on the scene who apparently need medical treatment.  They're "passing out" everywhere.  Seriously, you couldn't make this shit up.

Believe it or not, we zipped down to the Jay Z / Kanye West show at Consol (November 19, 2012).  We left a little early... not because of the pot smoke.  It was all the FLASHING LIGHTS - messin' with Gig's equilibrium.  Rap bastards.  Son bitch.

It's 11:30pm - this show's gonna run late.  
   
Ya wanna know something weird.  Whenever, the bio.HD channel censors a lyric or pelvic thrust, they throw on this blobbular Athari pong-related image.  It looks like a composite of the following images used by psychic-trash metal band Voivod.

  
Voivod = killer underrated band.  Sucks that you can't find any decent quality bootlegs of these noble Canadians.

IN NYC - Billy Joel is on.  Glad they put him later in the sequence.  Makes sense. Glad he didn't play the "makin' love to his tonic and gin" song. 

In Pixburgh - Last time I saw Steinway, me and Jenn went to the Igloo (March 4, 1999).  FYI - I don't need to google the date.  And I'm not one of those weirdo self-described idiot savants who remembers every date as though its emphatically relevant.  I'm much cooler - because I have all my ticket stubs tacked up on my bedroom wall.  If you require substantive evidence that I'm indeed hip, I'd propose adding this super-extended analogy to the SAT tests of those Linsly kids.

New Jersey: Jersey Shore: Miley Cyrus: Hannah Montana
West Virginia: Buckwild: Eric Saferstein: sonofsaf

 That'll help.

And I have corks too, including the cross of purity.  Corks and ticket stubs - this is where the U.S. is trending.  Hell, I almost forgot the Elf on a Shelf serving as a whimsically, omniscient overseer.  Proof that I do indeed exist in the year 2012.  Potential banter for degenerate historians I suppose.

In NYC - Coldplay singer Chris Martin is on.  He's the sauvest yuppie in the world (sing it like the Chrisagii).

In Rooneyville (technically Boogertown) saw 2 very strong shows (2005 & 2009).  Both were exceptional concerts, except I admittedly got sucked in by the novel excitement of my first cell phone wave.  In retrospect... sad.

In NYC - Paul McCartney is on.  Helter Skelter is a cool opener but why on earth would you play that exhaustive version of the "Let Me Roll It."  You've got the entire Beatles catalog at your disposal, not to mention some of your own solo stuff, and you decide on this grueling Wings tune?  He must like that song.  I do not.  Now he's playing another obscure Wings tune.  Peculiar. 

On a blasphemous note, especially in the wake of others misery (hurricane) /jubilation (historic rock concert).  Isn't it always about these "we need to pray" people and "I just want to take a moment and thank God" clips and "place your trust in the lord"... and his benevolent cock.  These people are making me tired, much in the same way pretzels make George thirsty.  Fortunately, the hurricane Sandy benefit didn't turn into G.F.A. (God Fest of the Aughts).  Praise his name. 

And  hey, we didn't pay a fucking dime for any of the concerts mentioned in this entire blog.  BOO-YAH!!!  The passion of the jew.  We're the exact opposite of all the saviors in tonight's Garden audience.  Surely, they payed out the ass.  Just an observation.

Actually, I take that back.  Here's the numbers to the best of my recollection - we paid $9 & $20 for the Columbus Pearl Jam show, $7 & $11 for the Cleveland Pearl Jam show and $20/$40 for the Philly shows.  I paid $20 to see the Stones/ Pearl Jam show at PNC Park.  ALL the others were FREE.  How did we pull it off?  Through the time honored and proud tradition of "aggressive but non-confrontational, both distant and passive, yet in-your-face and resolute" begging.  Oh yeah, and the occasional sneak-attack.

Alright, I'm signing off.  This Sandy relief concert could have used a shot of Marilyn Manson... in the collective groin of the garden.

So I'm watching the finale.  Paul McCartney introduces Alicia Keyes and they fucking PREEMPT it for a some kind of Hamilton Beach coffee maker Amazon.com commercial.  Then, there was another commercial for some insurance shit or something.  Unbelievable!  Alright, they segued back in to the finale.  Yep... Empire State of Mind.  So Saf, how do you feel?  What did this night mean to you?

Quality of concert performers - 95 (Praise the lord... no dumbshit Korean technocrud)
Quality of the production - 74 (Bio HD?  I just think it was too much for them to handle).
The crowd - 54  (On the whole, this crowd of "fans" seemed unusually weak).  MSG attendees usually amp it up.  One could argue, this concert was just the delayed aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.  But hey, I watched the whole damn thing.  Sup wit dat?

Chargers 34 Steelers 24: (12-9-12)

Gig and I snagged some free 500 level tickets to the game yesterday.  Probably the easiest acquisition this season.  While Gig was chit chatting with a photographer acquaintance, this short dude came out of nowhere.  "You guys need tickets.  Here you go."  I wasn't even holding up the sign.  Ironically, I was conversing with an overly gregarious Santa Claus playing acoustic guitar at the Mazeroski Way / W. General Robinson intersection.  As a matter of policy, I generally try to avoid Santa Clauses.  I once designed a tribute sonofcd - sonofsizzlin' / sonofsanta.  The latter being a tribute to mall store pedophile Santas.  Think of it as a purging, cathartic attempt.  Let's get Santa outta the system.  Let us expunge him from the public domain.  I'd feel more comfortable having the grandkids sit on Jerry Sandusky's lap.  Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people?

Let me first say, I would never have predicted the thrashing absorbed by the Steelers this weekend.  Everyone's saying Tomlin threw Ben back into the fray too soon after the injury.  I wouldn't place the blame there.  With four weeks til the playoffs, if you're a starter and you can physically play... then you play.  It's not really that complex.  I just think the team didn't "show up" after the huge, emotional win in Baltimore.  The let-down was looming.

I also didn't think Dallas would beat Cincy.  When your organization goes through rough emotional times (nose tackle charged with DUI & vehicular manslaughter), the last thing anyone wants is a Trumplike egomaniac like Jerry Jones playing the role of goodwill ambassador.  Next week's game should be strong.  I hope Jones heads down to the sidelines to motivate the team.  The ultimate scenario - in the waning moments of a tight game, the ref call a personal foul on Jerry Jones (trying to intimidate an official) and it knocks the Cowboys out of field goal range.  When the last second 58 yard attempt comes up just short, Jones fires their kicker on the spot.

Then, he hires replacement journeyman Billy Cuntiff.

I can dream, can't I?

As I was saying earlier, tickets were too easy to come by.  61,359 fans showed up in "full force."  Not too shabby.  That's only 3,691 no shows.  But how can one assess blame?  After all, it started to rain late in the 3rd quarter.  It being Sunday and all (the lord's day of rest), perhaps some thought there might be a flood of biblical proportions.  Truth be told, the crick is way up.

So yeah, tix were everywhere.  We felt embarrassed even trying.  It was that easy.  We did secure one additional for that special someone whom we all knew wouldn't make the trip.  Faced with the prospect of eating a ticket as if it were a box of Crunch'n'Munch, we ended up giving it away.  We originally tried to charge this dude $20, but he didn't even flinch.  We saluted his effort and just dished it off.   

This got me to thinking.  Maybe WE could become "goodwill ticket ambassadors."  Everyone would know that those 2 weirdos standing on the bench are here to redistribute free Steelers tickets.  That's their sole purpose in life.  So if you have an extra, give it to them.  Not only will they perform a ticket "hand me down" (literally... while standing on the bench an extra 2 feet off the pavement), but they will also do a "quality control" assessment.  Make sure the person is legit (not going to scalp or resell) and that he/she isn't some drunken yinzer Monroever buffoon.

You can never be too careful.

So surely the urban legend would grow.  Yeah... those two freakazoids on the bench outside Gate A.  They're the ones that routinely accept and give away free tickets.  Think of it as though you're seeking salvation (from a couple feet above).  Kind of a Salvation Army, sharing is caring, theme.  We could be this renegade, Steelers miracle seeking, hippie nonconforming, IC Light drinking, anti-scalping force to be reckoned with.

To some, we could be heroes (David Bowie).  To others (those who spend all their disposable income on season tickets), we'd be pissing them off to an even higher level previously deemed inconceivable.  It's a win-win.  Conjure up this image in your head.  Picture the mongrel hoards of Steeler nation as "lap-dogs."

 
That's right, you lackeys.  It's that time of year again.  Time to "put the Christ" back in Christmas.  So if you're a true Steelers fan, here's what you need to do.  Go to a Dick's Sporting Goods store and buy your hubby an NFL officially merchandised Big Ben #7 jersey.  It's a steal - only $219.  Now you've properly earned the love and adoration of your significant other.  Have a Huck-it.  Chuck-it.  Christmas!

possible Kate Middleton South Park episode

I don't profess to know shit.  But of two things I am certain...

1.  The Steelers will dismantle fucking Norv Turner and the San Diego Chargers.  Take Pittsburgh and the -7.  Chargers coming in for the early east coast start.  Does anyone know Norv's real name?  Well, it's Norval Eugene Turner.  Norval sounds a lot like "boll weevil."

Alright, less of a correlation than I originally surmised.

2.  Of vastly greater importance... the next South Park guys episode will be about the recent Kate Middleton fiasco.  

If you're living under a rock, these 2 Australian deejays pretended to be Granny Royale Fuckingham.  So they called the hospital and got direct access to the Princess Kate when she was admitted for hyperemesis gravidarum, acute morning sickness related to her pregnancy.  Anyway, the nurse was tricked by their impression and patched them straight through.  How could she have been so gullible damn-it?  That's right.  Now I'm pissed off.

Anyhoo, less than a day later, the nurse ends up killing herself.  Well, the autopsy is still ongoing,  but I can't fathom someone purposely killing this woman.  Then again, you never know.  In this day and age, the violation of Kate Middleton's privacy could be just enough to trigger a murderous rage in some Manchester United hooligan douchebag.  I despise Man U.  In fact, I think there should be an actual "hate symbol" for these clowns in the social media realm.  Perhaps an inverted or "upside-down" heart.  Seriously, why doesn't this exist?  I've never seen an upside down heart during any of my facebook exploits.  Plenty of regular ones though.

Come to think of it.  They should also have a "broken heart" symbol.  Basically, just this thing... ♥,  but with a shattered crack down the middle.   Perhaps these things already exist.  Either way, I refuse to google something so blatantly faggolicious.

Alright, my point is this.  I can envision these guys

salivating like Pavlovian dogs.  Obviously, there will be a new South Park episode regarding the right to privacy.  I'm going futuristic on this one.  It happens from time to time (A.G.S.).

But here are some specific projections related to this hypothetical episode:

1) Since it's all about privacy, I think they'll incorporate those "dumbshit facebook disclaimers that absolve everyone from any guilt or innocence ever associated with their identity and pictures/writings."  I hate those things.

For those of you who do not understand the reasoning behind this posting, Facebook is now a publicly traded entity. Unless you state otherwise, anyone can infringe on your right to privacy once you post to this site. It is recommended that you and other members post a similar notice as this, or you may copy and paste this version. If you do not post such a statement once, then you are indirectly allowing public use of items such as your photos and the information contained in your status updates.
PRIVACY NOTICE: Warning - any person and/or institution and/or Agent and/or Agency of any governmental structure including but not limited to the United States Federal Government also using or monitoring/using this website or any of its associated websites, you do NOT have my permission to utilize any of my profile information nor any of the content contained herein including, but not limited to my photos, and/or the comments made about my photos or any other "picture" art posted on my profile.
You are hereby notified that you are strictly prohibited from disclosing, copying, distributing, disseminating, or taking any other action against me with regard to this profile and the contents herein.
The foregoing prohibitions also apply to your employee, agent, student or any personnel under your direction or control. The contents of this profile are private and legally privileged and confidential information, and the violation of my personal privacy is punishable by law. UCC 1-103 1-308 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WITHOUT PREJUDICE

Are the collective minds surrounding me really that easily absorbed?  Enfeebled?  Uh... yeah.  That's an affirmative.

2)  I've been trying to think of who would be involved in the actual medical emergency.  Just who would be admitted to the hospital?

A.  Could be Cartman's Mom.  For those who've forgotten, Mrs. Cartman is actually his father.  She's a hermaphrodite.  I wonder if I personally know a hermaphrodite and am unaware of it.  Never really thought about it before.  I know a couple of androgynous individuals.  I'll settle for that.

B.  Mr. Slave might be transported to the hospital.  This has strong potential.  Featuring the rodentous return of Lemiwinks, his rectal confidentiality would be severely compromised.  Throw in a concerned Mr./Mrs. Garrison and the support of his/her students.... there you go, that's an episode.

C. Kyle's mom, Mrs. Broflovski might check in for breast reduction surgery.

Anyway, those are my three hunches.  Just thought I'd put myself on record.

killer golf ball

Over the summer, "J Wreck" and I were golfing the front 9 of the Jones course at the Speidel golf club.  On the challenging hole #3 (par 4), he hooked his drive into the woods.  He went in for a look and emerged with a handful of golf balls.  One golf ball caught our attention.

Whoopty-whoop, whoopty doo.  Good for you, Saf.  You got yourself a Titliest ProV.  Nice.
Actually, I don't really care for the Titliest brand - too "spongy."  Instead, I like Top Flites and Slazengers.  But to be honest, I'm really not that finicky.  You give me food, I will eat it.  You give me a golf ball, I'll hit it.

But wait... there's more to this story.  The side of this particular golf ball bore an inscription.

For the love of God.  Could it be?  Could this possibly be the property of my old boss... Belmont County's own John Seckman aka "Killer?"  Yes.  I believe I'm in possession of this life-of-the-nonexistent-party, beverage purchasing phenom, aging wunderkind, Fartin' Mary philanthropist's golf ball.  For those unfamiliar with the aforementioned tire-wholesaling icon, I used to haul him and his extended Bell-Dirty posse around in a piece-of-shit limo (the polished vehicular Lincoln Town-Turd) for 6 years.  Then, one day out of the blue, he decided he could never speak to me again.  Bummer.  What's unusual is that he never fired me.  He just came to the conclusion that we could not coexist. Saf, you sound a little bitter.  Perhaps.  I'll cope. 

Still, I'd like to return this golf ball to its rightful owner.  But relevant questions remain...

1)  Does the individual in question have the sufficient amount of narcissistic tendencies and ego-driven compulsion to personally order monogrammed golf balls?

Answer: an unequivocal, absolute, definitive yes.

2)  Could it have simply been a gift, maybe from a family member or one of his devoted minions?

Answer: quite possibly

3)  Or could it be an entirely different individual nicknamed Killer?

Answer: maybe, but I doubt it.  

A year ago, I devised a way to inflict irreparable damage on the entire golf ball industry.  So this matter is a bit more personal than you might think.  Anyhoo, if anyone out there can shed some light on this golf ball's origin, please help a brother out.

The $500 million dollar lottery question (11-28-12 Powerball Lotto Bucket List)

Every so often, I hear the question.  "Saf, what would you do if you won the lottery?"  Suffice to say, it pains the questioner when they find out I'm not interested in buying a ton of shit.  Oh boy... imagine the possibilities.  I could buy that 14th century decorative Torah.  This could help reinstall my Jew heritage.  It'd be the equivalent of immersing myself in the Dead Sea, like a frugal baptismal.  Or maybe I'd hire one of the Mitt Romney sons to perform sadomasochistic sexual acts on Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell.  Probably the smiling kid named Tagg.  He emailed me several times during the campaign.  Haven't heard from him lately.  I miss Tagg the most.

Seriously though, how would I spend the gobs of cash?  I like the idea of purchasing large amounts of utilitarian items.  Cases of bottled water, plenty of bleach, isopropyl rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, unflavored instant oatmeal... you know, the good stuff.

Alright, so I just found out I can still get a ticket.  I thought they did the drawing on Tuesday night.  I like the German version of this Simpson's clip.

But now it's $2.00 instead of a buck.  What a fucking gip.  Have the venerable lotto people no shame?  I could have bought a McDouble and a small fry (consisting of 14 french fries - they really screw you with that diminutive, flimsy wax paper container).  But nothing hurts more, nothing cuts like a knife, than buying an extra large fry - you get it and it's only 2/3 full.

Now that's a McHate crime.  Ain't got nuthin' on the fuckin' Hamburglar.

So what am I gonna do with the loot (of course, this is after the noble U.S. government and great state of West Virginia take their well-earned cut from my hard-earned lottery ticket purchase)?

Here's my "lotto-bucket" list in no particular order.

10) I would hire a group of trained Navy Seals to eradicate the stank groundhog that lives underneath my house.  They can wrap him in this Crown Royal blanket

and dump the carcass in the Ohio River.  I think we'll need a group that understands the value of asymmetric warfare.  The tactical challenges presented by this "Lex Luthor of groundhogs" are difficult to quantify.  Some intriguing lineage in his groundhog family tree.  Grandpappy Hog used to espouse themes of Ohio Valley domination.  And Grammy Hog was once charged with "treason" by the Department of HomeHog Security.   Her crime - she shat where she ate.

9) Next up, I would buy my neighbor's house.

Then, I would purchase the Cadillac of a local, elderly woman.  Yep, you know what's coming.  I would drive that car straight into the pool... and leave it there.       

8) Speaking of cars, "Saf, what kind of flashy, brand new car would you buy?  How about the hottest X666, Z69 super-turbo, quadro-powered Crossfire Hurricane?"  Honestly, I don't see this happening.  However, I would pay someone to fix the bumper on my 2001 Outback.  And we could fix Gigi's bumper on her '95 Civic.  We seem to have these non-desirable, but seemingly incurable bumper issues.  But honestly, I might finally buy a shitty golf cart.

7) This is a big one.  I would seek to eliminate any visible demonstration of the Christmas holiday within a surrounding 10-mile radius of my home.  How would I accomplish this feat?  Well, I'd go door to door and pay neighbors to remove their Christmas decorations.  Inflatable Walmart Santa Clauses would fetch a fitty, manger scenes bring in the Benjamin. 20 bucks a wreath sounds fair.  I would also buy up ALL the nearby presents and donate them to the undeserving children of Kenya.  Sensing an Obama gift-giving, global redistribution conspiracy, this would infuriate the local right wing churchies.

6)  I would also purchase every available Christmas tree and host a massive tree burning ceremony.  You've heard of book burnings.  Well this is kind of similar, except it's thousands of Christmas trees.  And I'd hire some of the finest musicians from out the crick.  Time to crank up a classic rendition of "Throw a-nudder tree on the fahr"

5)  I would purchase every available Steelers ticket I could get my hands on.  And I'd buy them in advance.  Yup, the two lamest words ever uttered by the humanoid species.  Then, I'd freely distribute them to every homeless individual in the city of Pittsburgh.  Ohh, the games people play.  It be gittin' all twisted up in da Burgh n'at!  Heinz Field be lookin' all krazy up in the hizzy!

4) I would hire my own team of dedicated "yuletide carollers."  But they'd only be allowed to sing Slayer songs.  "South of Heaven, Behind the Crooked Cross, Hell Awaits > The Antichrist...  you get the gist.  For some reason, I like the notion of everyone singing the lyrics acapella.  Think in terms of a Slayer barbershop quartet.  "Bastard sons begat their cunting daughters, promiscuous mothers with their incestuous fathers, ingrained souls condemned for all eternity..."

3) At my official press conference, I would only field questions regarding religion and politics.  You know how from time to time the public despises some douchebag who wins the lottery.  The arrogant asshole, the welfare queen, the white trash Nascar dumbshit, the guy who doesn't speak English, the guy who was already super-wealthy... Well, at my big press conference, I would only take questions concerning the two most ill-advised, divisive topics (religion and politics).  Afterwards, I would spend absurd amounts of money on television advertising.  The purpose of the ads - to lambast the lottery itself.  The absurdity of low-income monetary recycling would be exposed in great detail.  And I would openly ridicule anyone who engages in this mindlessly driven, government sponsored form of gambling.  How's that for an ongoing public relations nightmare?

2) Next up.  I'd hire every local mall store Santa and Jerry Garcia look-a-like.  That's right.  I'd put them all on the payroll.  Transport them to the newly refurbished Ohio Valley Mall.  Remember the Salem Witchcraft Trials of the late 17th century?  Well, I would line 'em all up and put 'em on trial for accused crimes of mall store pedophilia.

Let the record reflect that on Saturday, December 24 at 10:04 am, young child Ethan sat on Santa's lap.  GUILTY!  Let the record reflect that during the week leading up to Christmas, the defendant uttered the phrase "Ho-Ho-Ho."  It was directed at a group of young girls purchasing Miley Cyrus posters.  Attempted solicitation to engage in overseeing an underage prostitution ring.  If that one fails, just nail 'em on the conspiracy charge.  (conspiring to represent themselves as the real Santa Claus)  Either way, the verdict is in...

1) "Saf, how about shutting down the entire Oglebay Festival of Lights?"  Nahhh.  That's way too low-brow.  I'd execute a far more hate-driven operation.  I would pay individuals to feign "car break downs" at the most vulnerable traffic choke-points on route 88 and various other locations throughout the park.  You know that 4 hour long, bumper-to-bumper trek through a Christmas winter-wonder land.  Well... now it's 8 hours.  Enjoy.

Honorable Mention: I'd buy all the sugar cereals at every local grocery store for a period of one year.  Do you see this disgusting shit?

 I wish for the neighborhood children to experience sugar cereal deprivation for the duration of one calendar year.  The ultimate accrual of annual joy.





 

Steelers/Ravens (11-18-12) / getthehookup.com

With a heightened sense of trepidation in the air, Gigi and I hit the Steelers/Ravens game Sunday night.  She was optimistic but I surmised our potential to score free tickets at about a 50/50 shot.  We took our spot on the very wobbly, but historic bench outside Gate A.  Every time I stand on that thing, I feel inclined to sing the Beach Boys.  And sure enough, Gigi will quietly sing along in a muted, guarded tone...

For those unfamiliar with the bench scene, there are two of them.  I prefer the bench closer to the Art Rooney statue.  I've named this particular bench, "Bench A-2."  The view from the other one was obstructed by a mobile dumpster.  That bench is appropriately named "Bench A-1."  Next time I'm down there, I'll bring a marker and christen the damn things.

Assigning naming rights to a bench or scribbling the word "cum" on a dumpster could be construed as a little less dramatic... but you get the drift.  

Well, we stood on that bench for about 25 minutes to no avail.  All of a sudden, there was a whirlwind of activity.  A man saw our sign and prepared to hand us a free print-out ticket.  Just as we were thanking him, this dude came out of nowhere and placed two tickets in my hand.  He-Bang!  He Bang!

The mysterious philanthropist bolted off in the distance before I could properly express my gratitude.  For a game of this magnitude, that was just way too fucking easy.

So we milled around for a bit and headed in just after the Steelers put up their first (and only) touchdown.  At halftime, there was a fantastic tribute to some hall-of-famers.

Incredibly cool.  Well, except for the fans on the 200 level who always scurry inside to the heated lounge area.  Fucking babies!  What an embarrassment.  Then again, you glance over to the main exit area and there are hoards of people streaming out of the stadium.  For the love of Allah, the score is 10-7 and it's the best regular season grudge match of the year.  And it's a nationally televised night game.  And it's only half-time.  Just what is it about these people?  I swear to god, they just don't do this in other NFL cities.

It got me to thinking.  Someone needs to do a sped-up time lapse video of everyone exiting the stadium from halftime onward.  Show the bodies in fast forward and run a real-time counter.  It would make for some fascinating discussion.  After all, Steeler Nation is comprised of the greatest fans in the world.  Yeah... right.

I know...  I know... Saf, why are you so obsessed with the behavioral habits and movement of the crowd?  Well, it's just one of those deals.  Do not fear.  I'm not going to say it.  Suffice to say... 

+

=

The other highlight of the evening...
Gig saw 2 "tickets" sitting on top of an orange barrel outside Stage AE.  They looked like this...

At first glance, they seemed like some kind of matchmaking promotional material for a dating website.  I threw them in my pocket and didn't give it much thought.

Rummaging through my pockets the next morning, I made a closer examination.  These fugazi tickets are actually a marketing tool for a brand new company based out of Pittsburgh.  getthehookup.com is a GPS mobile based app that connects last minute buyers and sellers in a twitter based chat room setting.  Really, it's no big thang.  It's just the greatest moment in the history of the techno-scalping revolution.  And this app has other wide-ranging possibilities.  What if some youthful, aspiring yinzer needs a shot of Jagermeister?  What if some tailgaters are running dangerously low on Yuengling (the Pittsburgh equivalent of gasoline)?  What if someone wants to unload 100 unofficially merchandised Steelers hemp key chains at a reduced cost?  What if a bum/street person (with an iphone) wants your leftover black'n'gold lobster ravioli from Jerome Bettis Grill?  Well, you'd find out that it has been removed from the menu.

I've already exchanged emails with the guy who created the website (Levi Benson).  I think we're going to hook up in the near future.  This could be interesting. 

Ravens  13
Steelers  10

sucked.

Lincoln: rare movie review

Gig and I went to see Lincoln yesterday.  We hit a matinee showing ($6.50 per person - not bad).  I think that's a fair price to see a Speilberg movie that will likely win a few Oscars.  Just for the record, I almost never go to the movies.  I recall seeing the movie Alive back in 1993.  In 2010, we went to see Dinner with Schmucks featuring Office legend Steve Carrell.  Before that, I saw Donnie Brasco at the Ohio Valley Mall back in 1997.  That's a pretty big layover (13 years).  I'm not exaggerating.  I just normally don't enjoy going to the movies.  I'll occasionally watch them when they come out on HBO or Starz or whatever, but for the most part, I just don't possess that burning inclination to sit motionless in a movie theater for 2+ hours.  Usually there's some bozo throwing popcorn or some idiot teenager rolling Lemonheads down the aisle.  And I absolutely despise hearing collective laughter when the joke is unfunny.  And usually, the volume is too loud.  At age 42, just call me "quintessential grandpa."

So as I was saying, we went to check out Daniel Day Lewis.  Hard to go wrong with this guy.  In Gangs of New York he had a mind-blowing performance. 

I incorrectly assumed the movie would include some epic Civil War battlefield scenes.  But it mostly revolved around the power, or lack thereof, of the Emancipation Proclamation and the abolishment of slavery via the 13th Amendment.  Of course, the Confederacy vs. the Union served as an overriding macrocosm.  I also assumed that Lincoln's assassination would occupy a prominent part.  Wrong again.

I liked the fact that Speilberg concentrated more on the content and process, rather than the action and special effects.  Made for a more thought-provoking afternoon.  As expected, Lewis' portrayal of Abraham Lincoln was spectacular.  Great script too.  Well worth checking out.  Maybe I'll hit another movie... when I'm 64.

My parents once ate dinner with Speilberg in Los Angeles (or it may have been Phoenix).  I think it was for some kind of Israeli/Jew fund-raising event.  Not sure of the specifics.  When I pressed them for details, they admitted they just sat at his table.  I don't recall if they directly spoke to him.  I wonder if I've ever broken bread with anybody famous.  Through the years at Jambo, we were fed some modified gruel backstage.   So I guess that counts... sharing Salisbury steak with negro country music outsider Neal McCoy.  Yep, that's what it comes down to.  Now I can die with no regrets.   

We stopped by Coleman's Fish market in the late afternoon (2 fish, a seasoned fry and a lobster bisque).  As we were just about to leave, a disheveled man emerged from the restroom.  He walked over to us and with no introduction whatsoever, he asked, "Hey, are either of you Methodist?"  Gigi and I looked at each other with obvious consternation.  We replied, "Uhh, no."  Then, we made direct eye contact with the dude and realized that his chin was literally covered in blood.  Then he asks, "Ohh, I get it.  You guys are Catholic, right?  I laughingly respond, "Actually, I'm not anything."  This left him seemingly confused and without uttering another word, he walked away.  Gigi and I just looked at each other... what the fuck was that all about?  And why was he covered in blood?  Could this have been some kind of "Jesus Christ, Center Wheeling, flood of blood, fish market sit-down?"  In retrospect, I should have told him I was a vampire.

Speaking of vampires... back in 1994, I was bitten on the neck by a self-professed vampire.  No fucking joke.  I'm pretty sure his name was James.  Everyone called him Cha-Cha and he lived in Shadyside, Ohio  The actual biting took place in Wheeling at Mac's Club on Washington Avenue.  Fortunately, he didn't bite hard enough to draw blood.  When I asked him, "Dude, what the fuck are you doing?  Why did you bite me?" he responded, "Saf, I'm really sorry.  I just have this crazy vampire fetish and it's a full moon.  I then asked told him, "Well, why don't you bite a woman?  I'm not a good candidate for this vampire shit."  He replied, "I know... I know... I get really weird when it's a full moon.  It doesn't matter if you're a man or a woman.  I'm sorry Saf."

Roughly 5 years would pass til our next encounter.  I ran into him and his very pregnant girlfriend (I think her name was Melony) on the Ohio State campus.  He wandered off in a stumbling, drunken haze.  I told his girlfriend about the '94 biting incident and she assured me that "he bites all kinds of people.  Yep, everyone gets bit at one point or another."  Apparently, if this constitutes normal behavior, I've been living underneath a rock.  What kind of planet are we living on?  And all this shit happened way before the TV Vampire idiots bled their way into the arteries of America. 

I also recall this one-night stand (in all truth, it lasted a couple of days).  But anyway, we're in bed and this much younger girl bit my left nipple.  I forget my exact words but I basically informed her "Hey, I'm just not really into the sexual aspects of being bitten."  And she responded with the same general weirdo comment, "I just love to bite people.  I can't help myself.  Eric, I can't help it."  I then told her about my prior vampirical experience.  She explained how "it ain't no big deal."  Earlier, she had made a big production about her "alleged bi-sexuality."  Now I know nothing about the Draculated-werewolfer-vampish subculture.  But I think it's safe to say there seems to be a bisexual undercurrent.  At least, that's been my experience.  Granted, it's quite limited.  And for that, I am grateful.  Perhaps I should consider carrying a cross or wearing a garlic bulb necklace.  Normally, I'm not superstitious.  But I'd consider implementing "reasonable measures" to dissuade the Dracko-Whacko's.  Hopefully, they'll just stand down, or better yet, steer clear.

Bandit racing, Erik Estrada encountering, Thai consuming, Who Consoling, Steeler Nation sucking kind of a weekend

Normally, I try to be concise with my post titles.  But not today.

Steelers defeat Chiefs in OT (16-13).  Big Ben injures shoulder.  These were the dominant headlines on Tuesday morning.  Well, I was in attendance and formulated a different headline...

Steeler Nation Sucks

Out of a potential 65,050 - Attendance: 57,644.  That's 7,406 no shows.  For a nationally televised Monday night game this borders on deplorable.  Yeah, I know it was raining and windy.  Big fucking deal.  I've been to tons of games where the elements were far worse.

And we came in with a winning record (5-3) at the season halfway mark.  The irony... had this game been played at Arrowhead Stadium, the venue would have been at full capacity til the end.  Instead, I glance over to the main exit outside Gate A.  People are literally streaming and funneling out of the stadium.  But this was at the end of the half, not the end of the game.  I couldn't take my eyes off the steady outflow.  Insane.  Steeler Nation is becoming a joke.  I know... they're the greatest fans ever.  But if you define "greatest fan" I think a technical definition or fundamental underlying description would have to be "someone who goes to the game and stays til the end."

Further irony - the game was an overtime thriller.  Perhaps a bit sloppy on the part of both teams, but exciting nonetheless.  If I had to guess, I'd say there were about 38,000 people in the stadium when Suisham kicked the game winner.  Again, what a fucking joke!  Giant chunks of yellow empty seats.  Row after row after row.

But I would like to thank G Max for the free ticket.  50 yard line seat, Section C.  I almost never sit in the C level.  The likely reason being a whopping $260 face value on the ticket.  Of course, its value in real-time was zero, maybe $20 tops.  And the climate-controlled Ford hospitality tent was bad ass.  Prime rib, decent wings, high end macaroni and cheese.   There must be a sneakily simple but sophisticated way to crash these tent parties.  Perhaps a good 'ol fashion corner tent lift-up is in order.  Or maybe some kind of Andy Dufresne Shawshank sewage-styled port-a-jon crawl through.  I do not know.

It was actually a pretty hectic, extensive weekend.

On Saturday morning, I ran the Wheeling Veterans 10K (6.4) race.  I narrowly beat my time from last year clocking in at 58:30.  Probably because the weather was perfect.  Mid to high 40's.  Crisp and cool.  I experienced some mild discomfort on Big Wheeling Hill but managed to tough it out.  No walking.  And to be honest, it's a pretty tough race (the majority of it's uphill).

I actually ran this race "bandit style."  That just means no entrance fee, no registration, no t-shirt, no official acknowledgement.  Very Forrest Gumpish if you think about it.  I just felt like running.

Those Paramount copyright bastards removed the real movie footage from the internet.  That's unfortunate.  It's one of the best scenes in the movie.  Though I do like the Flock of Seagulls musical substitution.  It's a smart fit.  Anyhoo, bandit running, or the act of being a race bandit, is the wave of the future.  Everybody's doing it.  From here on out, I'll refer to this phenomenon as "racing bandit noncompliance."  But Saf, what about our noble Veterans being jewed out of your $25 entrance fee?  You need to support the troops with that supplemental income.  I would counter - as long as we're spending about 6.7 billion dollars per month in Afghanistan, I'll maintain a strict adherence to bandit status.

Having finished the race, I hitched a ride back to the car.  Two overly-active dog licking stenched mammals Sanduskified me from the back hatch of a Land Rover.  Then, it was off to a quaint, low-pressure shower.

Alright, so I'm off to the Ohio Valley Mall to speak with Erik Estrada.  We have business to discuss.  But first, I ran into Karen D., her kids and an extended 3-child brood.  Then I saw Katie W. and her two kids.  But they weren't there for the Chipspanic Estrada Tostada.  They were there to meet Disney superstar Caroline Sunshine.

If that ain't the embodiment of sunshine, I don't know what is.

And let me tell you what.  The St. C. mall was brimming with excitement.  Even this mall cop was settling into a groove.  An almost rhythmic trance.

So glad that someone took the time to post this.  Obviously, standing in an hour-long line just to speak with Erik Estrada for 30 seconds is not part of a sane agenda.  So while he was having his photo taken off stage, I jumped into the fray.  I introduced myself and told him we have mutual friends (the Chrisagii).  He let out a reassuring, "Oh yeah, Brian and Shawn!  How are they doing?"

"They're fine, " I reply.  "I just need 10 seconds of your time.  Actually, we all share some very deep concerns about a hypothetical national security issue.  I'd really like you to take a look at this (as i hand him my card)."   He nods in agreement, says "thank you," and places the card in his left-breast leathered pocket.  All the meanwhile, I'm being aggressively monitored by not one, but two mall security cops.  They were surveying my every move.  Is it me or did that mall cop remind you of "less androgynous Janet Napolitano?"  The whole thing had me recollecting a 1995 journey to the Columbus, Ohio DMV where this weirdo was "eying up my Marlboro Light as if it were a T-Bone steak."  For the faithful TSA is everywhere.  Live free or die.  Yeah, right.  Maybe in the granite state.  New Hampshire ain't the Ohio Valley.

In all honesty, just who exactly would venture to the mall for an Erik Estrada meet'n'greet?  The answer (and I'm not trying to sound callous or vindictive): it was predominantly mentally challenged individuals.  If you think about it rationally, it's a good fit.  There's music, cake and it's a relatively safe, enclosed environment.  So it's a decent way to kill off a few hours on a Saturday afternoon. 

All in all, I'd have to say the Estrada encounter was a bust.  But who knows for sure.  Maybe he'll read my book and be morally compelled to contact me.  I'd say the odds of this happening are about 1.4%.

So it's off to the Burgh to meet up with Gigi, Uncle Denny and Aunt Gloria.  They were in town to see Chicago at Heinz Hall.  We met up at Nikki's Thai on the North shore.  This place rocks... literally.  It's an echoing, rambunctious environment.  I opted for one of the Chef's specials and was quite pleased.

Fish Basil

$14.50 - Crispy tilapia fillets, stir-fried with garlic, basil, bell peppers, yellow onions, egg plant, green bean, bamboo slice, spicy basil sauce.

And we also got a cauldron of Tom Yum soup w/ chicken.  Highly recommended. Good stuff.  Freshness is the key. 

The following evening (Sunday night) we hit up The Who concert at Consol.  They were performing Quadrophenia in its entirety.  Not exactly my favorite album, but nothing to scoff at.  After all, it's The Who.  We had already acquired some free tickets from our Bell-Dirty connection. So we took a more lackadaisical approach to the evening.

We parked in our customary spot - Church of the Moors (black Jesus).  Then we met up with friends in a $5.00 gravel lot behind the arena.  Not bad - most of the surrounding lots are $15 or $20 and they're further off in the distance.  And this lot actually connects to the parking garage.  I think it's off Stephenson street.  Not a lot of taligating goin' on but that seemed to be a consistent theme throughout downtown.  The general mood just seemed very subdued.  I miss the rowdiness of the Igloo crowds.   

Much smaller crowd than I had anticipated.  About half of the 200 level was empty.  I'd estimate about 14,000 people showed up.  Gig, me and Josh snagged some great seats on the 100 level next to the stage.  I love these seats.  Plenty of elbow room except for an excitable older woman who flailed the night away.  Her moves pissed off this one dude in front us.  Out of all the empty seats in the arena, she chose to obstruct the hell out of his sight line.  For me, their interaction and especially his constant look of irritation and disgust was the highlight of the night.    

All in all, I'd say the concert was fair.  This was the 4th time I'd seen The Who and it was definitely their weakest show.  But I am glad it wasn't later in the tour when Daltrey's voice trends cracking.

My favorite Who concert was back in 1989 at Three Rivers Stadium.  And I saw the 2000 double-rainbow show at Starlake - very cool.  And of course, who could ever forget the Columbus, Ohio Schottenstein 2006 sneak-in?  I even got a guitar pick.

But yeah, all in all I'd say this was their weakest.  Still a good time though.

Finally, I rounded it all off with the aforementioned Monday Night Steelers game.  I headed down early with the intention of selling these key chain conglomerates.

They were manufactured in an Oglebay Village sweat shop environment back in 1996.  For the love of god (these days I prefer the black Jesus god - based entirely on free event parking), I've been holding onto this shit forever.  I refer to them as "Terrible Twirlers."  And my sales pitch includes the phrase "they make great stocking stuffers."  Just putting this in writing this brings me precipitously close to the edge of suicide.  Not kewl. 

If you'd like to purchase one, shoot me an email (sonofsaf@hotmail.com) or leave a comment.  I'm in the process of negotiating with Dan Rooney, the Steelers organization and the official NFL merchandise people.  Yeah, right.  I sell them 1 for $20/ 2 for $30.  Like I said, Hanukkah (the Jewish Christmas) will soon be upon us.  The time to act impulsively is NOW.

One more thought about the game.  At the beginning, they paid homage to the military with a fireworks display, multiple F-16 flyover, veterans salute.  Everyone had a colored "placard" taped to their seat.  When held up, it looked like this...

Much like the Terrible Twirler, the picture doesn't do it justice.  But what was hysterical was the 5-step instructions on how to hold up a piece of paper.  It was my intention to blog about this, but at the end of the night, I forgot to grab my placard.  What a bummer.

Top 10 Obama/Romney election night observations:

Top 10 election night observations:

10) scrolling Fox News Alert:  Ohio is To Close Too Call

As Rob Halford would say, "Some heads are gonna roll" come Wednesday morning.

9) With less than 1% of the vote counted, we can put Alabama in the Romney column.

Yeah, no shit.

8) Will Mitt follow in the footsteps of Al Gore and grow a beard?

I doubt it.

7) Political action committee, "People Loving Money" exceeds Romney's fundraising expectations.

6) Consequently, voting bloc "Mormons for Obama" significantly under-performs.

5) Karl Rove had a nervous breakdown and lost his last 47 follicles of hair.

4) No Donald Trump commentary.  Praise the lord.

3) Chuck Todd should legally change his name to Chuck God.

2) I take back the Trump comment.  He tweeted the following...
 
Donald Trump -- "He (Obama) lost the popular vote by a lot and won the election. We should have a revolution in this country!"

Apparently, nobody told Trump that California is on the west coast and would swing the popular vote.  Rather than admit he was in error, he just deleted the tweet.  Way to go, douchebag.

1) All those "Foundation for a Better Life" and "I'm Your neighbor and I'm a Mormon" commercials will just quietly disappear. 

Could Erik Estrada prevent the next 9/11?

Erik Estrada will be signing autographs for the grand reopening of the Ohio Valley Mall in St. Clairsville, Ohio.  He'll be on hand this Saturday, November 10 from 11:30 am - 2 pm.

He's pointing right atcha... and guess what?  He's spot on.  Wheeling Intelligencer writer, Joselyn King, wrote an excellent article about all this.  I even left a note in the comment section...

 

sonofsaf

Oct-25-12 8:54 AM

Agree | Disagree

The notion of Erik Estrada presiding over the grand re-opening of the Ohio Valley Mall is in a word... EPIC. I'm going to ask him to sign the small of my back for my newest tattoo. An "ESTRADA" tramp stamp would be all the rage.

2 Agrees | 0 Disagrees | Report Abuse »

 

The Ohio Valley Mall (which usually resembles a catatonic ghost town) just got a Maury Povich styled makeover.  Think of it as a "geek to chic" transformation.  Apparently, they refurbished one of the entrances, added some carpeting and installed 4 skylights.

And Estrada, aka Ponch, won't be the only performer at the ribbon cutting ceremony.  There's gonna be a balloon artist, a magician, Thor, Spiderman and some other celebrities.  And when I use the term "other celebrities," I really mean it.  Actress Caroline Sunshine and her companion Kenton Duty will be appearing as well.  I had to do some internet research to find out exactly who these two are.  Apparently, they have a tv show on the Disney Channel called "Shake it Up."

Looks like they may have been on Dancing with the Stars.  Incidentally, the boy bears a striking resemblance to my neighbor (baby Jake).  For those living under a rock, Estrada was on some kind of Spanish knockoff version Dancing with the Stars.  Yes, it's true. 

I'm not exactly sure what that's all about.  But on some level, I believe it to be relevant.  It just has to be.  Everything depends on it.

So here's the dealio.  When I first heard of the Estrada appearance, I felt inclined to attend.  But I didn't really have an interest in meeting the CHiP's star.  Instead, I wanted to meet the people who have this burning desire to meet Erik Estrada.  I wanted to ask them about their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their aspirations.  I wanted to see the joy on their faces or gauge their disappointment.  I wanted to hear if the event met with their expectations.  Even better yet, what if he failed them miserably and left behind an emotionally shattered trail of elderly mall walkers.  Perhaps I could pose as a rogue Ohio Valley Mall employee conducting consumer research.  Perhaps not.

This is where the story takes a bizarre twist.  As many of you know, I'm friends with twin brothers, Brian and Shawn Chrisagis, a pseudo-contemporary Christian singing/performance duo from Eastern Ohio.  They perform regularly at area churches, regional holy crusades and such.  I actually wrote them lyrical content for a future song (about the stampedes, of course).  We discussed the possiblity back in June of 2012.  This is not a joke.  I have proof.  Here's the lyrics.  Honestly, it's some pretty damn good shit.  It's entitled, "Don't Cell Your Soul."  Great play on words.

 Don't Cell Your Soul

(refrain)

Think... before you run.
Search in your heart, not on your phone.

Don't sell your soul,
for the sole use of a cell.

Sure enough you tripped and fell
then you find yourself burning in hell

We're from small towns, but have important stuff to say.
Regarding life and the games people play

We had a friend who lived in Wheeling
He was never one you'd see kneeling

He didn't believe in god, it was his only confession
But we gave him a chance and he made an impression

These viral blitzkriegs and artificially generated stampedes.
Not blessings from god, these are man made deeds.

refrain

All we ask is that you listen.

To the truth that you've been missin'.

Don't fall for a malicious hoax that leaves you without breath

You could wind up crush asphyxiated or even trampled to death

There's a lesson to be learned in the face of this tragedy.

And it's a teachable moment for all of humanity

Don't place blind faith in those who are supposed to protect you.

The media, the government... look for something new.

refrain

Place your trust in god, you'll find a place to belong

Now would you kindly help us, and sing this song (or sing along)

And you thought I was joking... I rarely joke about the stampedes.  It really isn't a laughing matter.  So I hurriedly wrote the song and arranged a meeting.  Oddly enough, I met with them in a bar (The Owl's Nest which I'm supposedly banned from, but that's another story).  We talked about the song and the stampede concept for about a half hour.  At the time, they seemed interested in the undertaking.  But those two seem overly receptive to just about anything I utter.  So I said to myself, we'll take a wait-and-see approach.

Since then, about six months have passed.  On the cusp of the Erik Estrada visit, I decided to do some light research for this blog.  I went to the official Erik Estrada website (hard to believe there are unofficial Erik Estrada fan sites, but such things do exist).  I checked out his bio, charitable endeavors, etc.  But it was the page for the "Estrada Fan Club" that caught my eye.  I thought to myself... how much does it cost?  What are the perks?  Could it help expedite a personal meeting?   You know what I'm talkin' about... Estrada in the flesh.

But like I said, here's the text that caught my attention.  Read it carefully.


"I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."

~ Love, Erik & Nanette Estrada

DOWNLOAD THE PDF BELOW AND SEND IT WITH $20 IN U.S. FUNDS TO COVER YOUR ONE YEAR MEMBERSHIP.  FOR FANS OUTSIDE THE U.S. PLEASE SEND $25 IN U.S. FUNDS.

DOWNLOAD PDF HERE

Mail club forms & payment to:
ERIK ESTRADA FAN CLUB
103 SINCLAIR AVE.
YORKVILLE, OHIO 43971

Now wait just one fuckin' cotton pickin' minute!  Estrada lives in Los Angeles.  So why is the "Erik Estrada Fan Club" based out of Yorkville, Ohio.  Could it be true?  Again, I pose the question.  Could it be?  

The answer is a resounding YES!  103 Sinclair Avenue in Yorkville, Ohio is the home of the Chrisagis Brothers.  It's where the Chrisagii eat, sleep, shit, piss, pray, repent, etc.

The Chrisagis Brothers are physically running the Erik Estrada Fan Club out of their tiny residence.  I doubt the home properly adheres to city zoning ordinances but that's totally irrelevant.  What I've accidentally stumbled upon is the shocker of the century.   Is it a conspiracy?  Or is it just some mere cosmic coincidence?

I will soon have these answers and so much more.  I'm going to pitch the "artificially generated stampedes" to Erik Estrada.  This Saturday afternoon, I will attempt to convince Estrada to take action.  Much like he did on CHiP's... but this time it's concerning the biggest hypothetical, unknown national security threat currently facing the United States of America.  Sounds like the perfect way to resurrect his investigative career in law enforcement... or then again, he might end up on a federal watch list as an enemy of the state.  Would make for some great, chronologically generational irony.  Personally, I'd like to see Estrada butt heads with Janet Napolitano during a second Obama term. This would be a good thing.  But that's just me.  A side note - Kudos to Barack Obama!  Seriously, Mitt Romney would have been atrocious.

VS.

Looks like UFC 117.  Estrada has taken full guard.  Estrada with some impressive ground and pound.  Uh no, he's going for the choke.  Janet Napolitano has just been put to sleep.  Good night.

In any event, maybe Ponch could use his magical influence and further encourage the Chrisagii to put my song "Don't Cell Your Soul" on their upcoming album.  Let's do this shit!

I love the irony to all of this.  Could a West Virginian, atheist Jew team up with Erik Estrada and some zany evangelical Christian singers from right across the Ohio River and play a pivotal role in uncovering the truth behind the next 9/11?  Sounds about right.  Either way, it'll make for an intriguing follow-up blog.