The Shadow Knows…

Hey there, ‘Redheads… Good news from the immortal Pennsylvanian prognosticator, Punxutawney Phil. He did not see his shadow this year, so it’s nothing but sunshine and lollipops because Spring is just around the corner. Unless you live in the 75% of the country that is currently being flash frozen by yet another brutal cold snap. It’s snowing in Dallas. It’s so cold down there, the Green Bay Packers decided to practice indoors. I think either Phil is going blind or maybe he was just being sarcastic. Y’know who else didn’t see their shadow today? This guy… I’ve been to Punxutawney and I know the inner workings of the groundhog illuminati. Read all about it.

In other news, the Terps take on the current incarnation of evil in the NCAA, the Cobra Kai of college basketball, Duke tonight in College Park. Duke is the only good team in the ACC right now and the Terps are young and inconsistent. Duke is coming off having their asses handed to them by St. John’s, so they’re going to be angry but the Terps always play them hard, including a close loss against the Dukies in their house. If we win, look for the plume of smoke from the celebratory couch burning. If we lose, look for the plume of smoke from the despondent couch burning. Either way, the Terps express themselves through charred upholstery. I just want them to play well and give a couple hard fouls to that sweaty orc, Kyle Singler…He hasn’t seen his shadow either because it ran away.

See you Thursday…

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Running Lapse

Hey there ‘Redheads… As per usual, I started off this month with the best of blogging intentions, but apparently I couldn’t procrastinate more if I had a flux capacitor. It can’t be helped. It’s who I am… It’s what I do…eventually. Let’s not focus on the moments that’ve been frittered away. Let’s live in the now. At least momentarily, until I start telling you about the crap that happened during this most recent lapse.

The holiday season has descended upon us again. Here’s a holiday fun fact: Going to the grocery store for incidentals the week of Thanksgiving is the worst idea in the long sad history of bad ideas. Glaciers move faster than the checkout line I got stuck in. The lady at the front of the line was paying in food stamps. Behind her was a lady who was paying by check, then asked for cash back. I half expected the next person in line to make the transaction in wampum. I don’t mind wasting time, but when it’s being leeched from me, that’s when I get ornery. In the spirit of the impending Turkey Day, I offer a cornycopia of mild amusement. Giblets, at least.

This is one of my favorite times of the year for sports, when pro football and college basketball overlap. Unfortunately, this give my teams twice as many chances to stick a fork in my heart and twist. I just turned off the TV in disgust as the Terps got done making Cincinnati look like the alien team from Space Jam. We’re all crust and no cheese to stop up the middle. It’s early in the season, but this was our first test and we overslept. And, this just in, the Redskins still suck. They are to sucking what I am to procrastinating. It’s a gift. Light cannot escape them. It doesn’t help that their injury report is getting thick enough for Dan Snyder to use as a booster seat. Here’s a video from the ‘Skins sideline during the Cowboys game…

Last night, I had the weirdest dream. I was a contestant on Project Runway, and the challenge was to make an outfit out of Legos. Should it bother me that my dreams are about reality shows? I’m hoping tonight I can get on Top Chef and show off my mad George Foreman skills. Speaking of Top Chef, I got a medium rare opportunity to dine on some four star quality grub cooked by one of the final four cheftestants. If you find yourself in Frederick, MD, do yourself a favor and treat your taste buds to Chef Bryan Voltaggio’s restaurant, Volt. I was auditioning for the show Top Boyfriend and took my funny little honey there for her birthday. It was, top to bottom, one of the best meals I’ve ever had. I would’ve happily walked the green mile after dessert. If you’re a fan of Top Chef, then you have some idea of the intricacy that goes into preparing each course. This is not the kind of dining experience where you ask them to put the sauces on the side or leave something off the plate. Place your trust in the chef and let him guide you through a gastric wonderland. Then pack your knives and go.

Here’s a new bit of eye candy for you to suck on. When is comes to Muppets, I’m an old school guy. Not much, since Jim Henson left us, has captured the madcap glee of the past. This made me smile…

Before I sign off and prepare for my food coma, I need to congratulate my good friends, Chris and Allyson, on their engagement…and you know it’s real commitment when it gets posted on Facebook. Way to go, you crazy kids.

Happy Turkey Day, ‘Redheads… To gluttony! And to be continued…

199

Hey there, ‘Redheads… How was your collective weekend? If you filled out an NCAA bracket, part of your weekend was spent spitting expletives at a television. It all started out so well. I was perfect for the day games on day one. Then, I lost two upset picks by one point each and one of my Sweet 16 teams went down. On day two, the bottom dropped out when the ACC collectively shit the bed, including Wake Forest, who I had in my championship game, fuck you very much. So, ka-flooey, my brackets went up in smoke. With my brackets busted, my hopes then rested on my Terps, who had a nice win in the first round with 2 seed Memphis in their way in round two. And wow, did we get clobbered. The Terps got so thoroughly stomped, the school is considering changing the school logo to a Memphis sneaker print. We got Memphisted. They shot something like 70% in the first half. They were shooting golf balls into a 55 gallon drum and we were firing proton torpedoes into a two meter vent shaft. Not only did we get outgunned, but we were completely outsized. The Memphis players were cartoonishly huge…it was like we were up against the alien team from Space Jam. It was a miracle that we only lost by 19. Too bad that had to be the deflating end to an otherwise great season. Back to the brackets, aside from my Wake Forest prediction, my other three picks are still kickin’. I stand by my pick for Syracuse to win the whole thing…until they get bounced next weekend.

So, I’m coming to grips with the harsh truth that I have allergies. To what, I have no idea, but nature seems to have it out for my lungs. So, rather than cough between every other breath, I have turned to the healing power of Zyrtec. It takes a unique approach to tackling allergies. It makes you so drowsy, you forget to be allergic. You just stumble around in an arid haze.

In reference to the blog’s title, this is the 199th post. So, the next one will be a Super Double-Deluxe 200th Post Spectacular…or something. I have nothing in particular planned, but expect alot of padding with clips from previous blogs.

‘Til then…

Home Stretch

Hey hey, ‘Redheads… Long time, no type…what else is new? Actually, I only recently awakened from my Thanksgiving food coma. I hope everyone had a trytophantastic Turkey Day. We had turducken at our feast. For those unfamiliar, that’s a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken. If you ever get the chance to eat an animal with two other animals stuffed into it, treat yourself. It’s as delicious as a triple murder gets. But, hardly an excuse to keep you guys waiting two weeks for another helping of this corn and tripe casserole.

Big news for all of you who’ve been clamoring to see me live on a local stage. I got word today that I’ve been asked back to open for Good For The Jews at The Birchmere. The show is Sunday, the 21st, the first night of Hanukkah. Click the links to get an idea of what you’re in for. Let’s light this menorah…

Once again, I’ve started the cycle of frittering away five bucks worth of false hope on the ever growing lottery jackpot. In these tough times, it’s just about as reliable as the stock market. I think it’s somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 million smackers. I’ve gone with my usual fortune cookie numbers. And they hit. Five dollars worth of tickets won me seven bucks. I’m in the black and I’m letting it ride. Here’s hoping I’ll be having my manservant, Punjab, type the next installment while I dictate to him from atop a pile of money and hookers.

I took in some college b-ball last week at the BB&T Classic and watched the Terps knock George Washington’s wooden teeth down their throat in a 30 point blowout. One of the sponsors of the night’s game was the U.S. Navy, who’s logo flashed up on the jumbotron with the slogan: Defending freedom for 200 years. Does the Navy need a slogan? It’s not like they’re selling something…if we don’t like what they’re selling, we’re not going to take our business elsewhere. Here are some other completely unnecessary slogans…

Food: What’s in your mouth?
Oxygen: It’s in every breath you take.
Gravity: Keeping you grounded.

I had a pretty funny conversation with one of my co-workers the other day. He wanted to know what I thought of some of the new movies that had come out on DVD. The talk turned to the recent Indiana Jones opus. Some of you readers may remember I had some pretty strong opinions about that flick. You can click on the link for the long version (scroll down), but I told him that I thought it was a badly told story with a bunch of rehashed chase scenes. I qualified it with, “but this is coming from a guy who considers the first three classics.” To which he replied, “Well, you’re talking to a guy who saw White Chicks twice…” Touche.

Speaking of classic videos, here’s a musical gem that’ll stick with you…

Kinda reminds me of the dream I had after eating that turducken.

See ya soon…