Saturday, October 27, 2007

Cocktail Party virtually live blog: Fourth Quarter

Fourth quarter. And it all comes down this.

Gators moving.

Great open field tackle on 2nd down. 3rd and 12.

Blitz, but didn’t get to precious Timmy Superman. Still short of the first down.

Gators are going for it. Moore is back on the field! Fumble, bitch, fumble!

Bizarre play call. We stop them. Not give it to Moore, obviously, but did Moore fuck up and bump into Percy? Can anyone have such a bad game? Why didn’t The Greatest Quarterback In The History of College Football not run in a short yardage situation?

I just talked to Freebird between quarters. He sounded like he might be slipping into “drunk, drunk, drunk” range. And there was much booing over the phone when I said something nice about Coach Willie. Yeah, the Jorts have scored 24, but I’m here to praise Willie, not bury him.

HUGE MOTHERFUCKING PASS. STAFFORD TO MIKEY. 53 YARDS FOR THE TD! Unlike Superman’s wobblers, that was a thing of beauty. And Mikey could have gone down with the catch, but he stayed on his feet and took it to the house.

Party at the Freebirds, watching DirecTV, which has a notorious few second delay. The phone rings there just as Mikey enters the end zone.

Despite the drunken jubilation, there is STILL a LOT of ball to play. 11 point lead, with 11 minutes left.

What the fuck? How much time could Tebow have? Dump pass, huge gain.

Jorts to the 1 and a half. Before we can catch a breath, these cockgobblers have come right back.

Tebow tries to run, tackled for a loss.

3rd and 2.

I’m doing my bit for juju – alternating between copious amounts of whiskey in the “Lindsay” and “Appleby” Munson stadium cups.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Tebow. TD for the Jorts. Okay, I’m going back to the Lindsay Scott cup.

They go for 2. Miss it! Dawgs by 5, 35-30. This cup appears to be working now.

Allen to the 32 on the kickoff return.

Danielson tells the “scorpion across the lake” story. It was much better on Star Trek Voyager. Mainly, because it didn’t involve Tebow. And featured Jeri Ryan in a skin tight costume.

3rd and long for the Dawgs. We need this. Huge conversion to Bailey.

24 runs like a motherfucker for a first down. 160 yards rushing.

7:44 to go. Tick, bitch, tick.

7 to Figgins. First down.

Johnson with a nice run. I’m sorry, who was that? 2nd and 3.

Moreno close to the first down. 3rd and 1.

First and goal at the 5! What a run. Screw Babs and Judy Garland – THIS is “A Star Is Born.”

4:15. 2nd and goal. Tick, tick.

Moreno! Touchdown Dawgs! 41-30.

Freebird calls to invoke the “best UGA back since Herschel” proclamation. I can’t argue. Hearst? Hampton? Worley? Who could it be?

Commercial break, with Knowshon dancing. Damn, this could be sweet.

3:30 left. First down, Jorts on the 24. 2 TOs left. Down by 12.

Complete to 11 again. Is he always fucking open? 2:44, on the 12.

Tebow almost sacked for the 7th time. 2nd down.

Fumble!!!! Dawgs recover!!!! This bitch is done! Pope Urban doesn’t have a visor to throw, so he tosses a headset! And Tebow takes a bonus hit! HOW MOTHERFUCKING SWEET IS THIS?

Tebow can reportedly raise the dead, but he can’t save this game. Suck on this, Timmy!

First down DAWGS! Kneel downs, and watch the celebration.

This was a total team effort. Stafford was awesome. Knowshon established himself as THE MAN (188 and 3 TDs). Bailey, Massaquoi – everyone came up big. Except for the coverage on 11, the D was solid. Richt and Bobo made all the right calls.

Book it – DAWGS OVER GATORS 42-30. Fuck you Tebow, Fuck you Urban, Fuck you Percy. Fuck you Spurrier, Fuck you Wuerffel, Fuck you Kearse. Fuck you Leak. Fuck you Billy Donovan (just for the hell of it), Fuck you everyone that’s ever worn blue and orange. Free at last, free at last.

MAN, IS THERE GONNA BE SOME PROPERTY DESTROYED TONIGHT.

Cocktail Party virtually live blog: Third Quarter

Halftime “stories of character.” About a UGA gymnast. As told by Deborah Norville. I know Jane Pauley fans hate her, but she came from the best damned journalism school in the south. And she’s hot. (Sadly, during my time at the Grady school, I don’t remember that many hotties in the J-School. There were a few of course, who made their way to the hot tub on Spalding Circle, but not many around the building as I recall. Of course, I was rarely in class or on campus, despite the A average in the major. Guess I couldn’t play for Dennis Felton).

Start of the third quarter.

Moreno is a beast.

Danielson uses a fight analogy for the pre-game preparation. He suggests that UGA couldn’t have been a counter-puncher and win. That Richt told his team that the Jorts could “smell fear” and that we should play to win. Not bad. We’ve played like winners thus far, but there’s a lot of time on the clock. I can almost hear Munson slowly counting the goddamned seconds in my head.

HUGE run by 24. 42 yards, against an 8 man front. My god, a (redshirt) freshman!

3rd and goal after two runs by Southerland.

Play fake TD pass to Southerland! They were totally selling out on Moreno. And motion drew away the safety on the passing side. Beautiful call, beautiful execution. 28-17 Dawgs.

There are lots of Allstate commercials. Who does the voice overs for those? Dennis Haysbert. On what show did he play The Most Badass President Ever? 24. Who is number 24? That’s right, Knowshon. Coincidence? Karma? Of course, David Palmer got killed. I’m just sayin’….

Another direct snap to Harvin. Is poor little Timmy’s shoulder hurting? I hope it falls off, like the Black Knight in Monty Python’s Holy Grail. (little known fact: Tebow wrote the first draft of the script for that movie).

Percy also took a huge blow to the right arm/shoulder. I’d love for the Jorts two stars to only have two good arms between them.

3rd and 6. Didn’t make it.

4th and 1. Will Tebow run? Fuck. He made it.

No outside coverage on Percy’s run. Another Jorts first down.

Need a stop or a turnover. Of course, 11 is wide-ass open again. Same fucking play to the right side. This has been the only downside to Willie’s playcalling today. Who the hell will cover 11?

Tebow to the 2. And he didn’t even take a good shot.

TD Jorts. Tebow. Can’t he take a shot to the head that would make him believe in mythological entities? Oh wait….

28-24. Two heavyweights, standing in the center of the ring, trading punches. We absolutely must score on this next drive. If we go 3 and out and they get the ball back and score, the 2 and 15 mentality will creep in and all this good work will be for naught.

75 years of SEC history. What do they show? The most “famous call in SEC history.” Run, Lindsay! Verne Lundquist always gives his props to Larry. Good for you, Verne.

Great throw from 7 to Bailey again. Shit. A flag. What’s happening? Against us? That’s huge. We lost a 46 yard gain. Questionable call.

Now Moreno stuffed for a loss. Karma is putting us on the rape stand at Casa Vick.

3rd and 9. Inside pass to Bailey. Loss. Fuck, fuck, fuck. First punt of the game for UGA.

Block in the back, bitches! A flag.

Score update: UConn beating USF. Quacks beating the condoms. Ashley Judd U goes down to the Mudfoots. Husker (not Bill Adama) winning. Wha- huh?

Big sack on Tebow. 5 today. Equals the number Timmy has been sacked all year. Still no compound fracture, dammit.

Dropped pass. Whew. Flag. On them. Declined. 3rd and 18.

Completed, and missed tackle. First down. Buttfuck.

Tebow sacked again. Can’t we put him in traction? It would be worth 15 yards. Where’s Albert Haynesworth or Marcus Vick when you need them? Wouldn’t it be awesome to see some silver britches standing over Tebow like Chuck Bednarik? And Tebow could even go on to marry Kathie Lee. That would be a good fit.

(Note: my typing is getting much worse. I’m not Doctor Johnny Fever at the keyboard).

Dropped pass.

3rd and 18 AGAIN. Can we stop this shit? Does Tebow rhyme with “overthrow?” 7 was wide open. How can that be when we rush only 3?

Punt. Flag. Penalty added to end of run.

First down Dawgs.

Fucking awesome run by Knowshon. Bada Bing! First down.

Trickeration. The reverse would have actually been wide open. Shit. 2nd and 20. Stafford hides the ball on his hip well, but this hasn’t worked all year.

Too long for 4. Incomplete.

Nothing. Everyone is scoreboard watching.

End of the quarter. Dawgs still up 28-24. Thank god I can walk 10 feet to piss, and not be exposed to Two-Bits’ massive schlong. (Not that we were looking. Gravity draws the eyes, I’m tellin’ ya. Long story).

Back soon….

Cocktail Party virtually live blog: Second Quarter

Second Quarter.

Awful decision by Stafford. Okay, he’s thrown two passes. And there have been two TDs. The bad news is that one of those was by the Gators. Off the back foot (again), and even his arm couldn’t get the ball to the lone receiver in the pattern while falling back and getting hit. And just like that, Old Lady Luck (tm Munson) gives you the clap in a Motel 6 outside of Jacksonville.

Back to Knowshon.

Beautiful pass from 7 to 24. first down.

Every Stafford pass has been caught by someone.

3rd and long.

Stafford takes off on a run. Nope.

56 yard attempt by Coutu.

Just a horrible attempt. What the hell was that? That reminded me of three drunks trying to kick field goals at Disney’s Wide World of Sports a few years ago after a night on Pleasure Island. (I assume Coutu didn’t almost get run over by a cab). Richt was trying to call a timeout, but no one heard him. The “mo” is just slipping away.

How fucking open was 11? There was not a white shirt around him! Tebow throws a wobbly, ugly ball, but he’s 5 for 5.

Can’t they let Moore handle the ball again?

They split Tebow out again, but Pope Urban calls a TO.

Another commercial break. I can’t decide if “Fred Claus” is going to be funny as hell or a complete train wreck.

Rusher right in the face of Tebow. Incomplete.

Shovel pass. Nothing.

3rd and 9. Tebow sacked again! What has gotten to us? Certainly can’t argue with Willie’s attack thus far.

Field goal. No celebration or flags. Unusual. All things considered, not too bad. 17-14 Jorts.

Sonic commercial. Steak, bacon, egg and cheese burrito. Am I drunk, or does that sound really fucking good?

Commercial for the Geico halftime report. I hear Tebow invented gekkos. And cavemen.

Aflac trivia question. Single wing QB won the Heisman? Would Sinkwich count? Surely it couldn’t be Spurrier. It always has something to do with the teams playing.

Direct snap to 24, with 7 out wide. Of course, Tebow invented that, too.

Knowshon first down. So glad we have a few more years of him.

Stafford throws one away. That was actually a good overthrow.

Huge fucking pass from 7 to Bailey. Another rope, right on the money. And more importantly, caught.

Stafford runs for the first down. Of course, he’s just emulating the originator of the QB draw, Tim Tebow, but that was effective.

Flag. What the hell? Gators jumping over the line? No line infraction, but personal foul. We’ll take that. Of course, the Gator WAS in the neutral zone, just like a Romulan.

Another flag. Against us. False start.

1st and goal from the 9. QB draw. Nothing.

Nice cutback from 24, making something out of nothing! TD UGA! Dude is special. We’ve answered the bell. I can’t believe I’m watching a Cocktail Party. Why are they reviewing this? TD of course. 21-17 good guys.

Aflac answer? Sinkwich. Damn, I’m good. 1942 Heisman winner.

Sweet tackle for loss. Freebird just said Willie would get the boys in a prevent and give up a TD before halftime. Holy thrown visor, Batman, we sure are conditioned for failure aren’t we? 15 of 17 will leave bruises on you like a trailer park stripper.

3 seconds left and we have the ball. Bomb or kneel down? I’m thinking kneel down, take the lead into the half. Yep.

21-17 at half. Richt “fesses up” to dimwit Tracy Wolfson. “I told ‘em if they didn’t get a celebration penalty after the first score, I was gonna be mad at ‘em.”

Good lord. Could we really be winning this thing?

Halftime.

Hey, it’s Toby Keith for Ford Truck Month! I heard Tebow invented the Model-T (why do you think it was named that, after all) and country music.

Cocktail Party virtually live blog: First Quarter

Welcome to the quasi-live blog of the annual Georgia-Florida game. I’ll be writing these comments in real time, and posting them at the end of each quarter. Or, until the game gets out of hand, and I sink into a suicidal depression. So about a quarter and a half, I’d guess. Intro out of the way, here we go…

Holy Christ on a cracker. It starts already. CBS opens the show with a video handjob of Tebow, set to various “Superman” songs. Would it be too much to ask for Lex Luthor to show up in silver britches today, and stick a kryptonite shiv in his kidney? And to have him slowly and painfully bleed out in the bowels of Alltell stadium? Maybe? Please?

Danielson says we need 28 points to stand a chance. Can we score 28 points against a team whose coach doesn’t have a press conference meltdown and berate a female reporter?

Florida always wears white shoes. Dumbeldore would love that. Isaiah Washington would hate it.

Sack! Jesus wept.

2nd play of the game, and Superman calls timeout to go consult with the smartest coach in the world not named Charlie Weis.

A commercial for the IPhone. I heard Tebow invented that.

Fucking first down. And BTW, what the hell is going on in Kentucky? Is this the Rich Brooks equilibrium?

Florida chewing up yards.

FUMBLE! UGA recovers! Battle makes a savage hit on Moore. One of the few turnovers we’ve forced this year (7 actually). Allen with a nice run back.

Dawgs take over on O.

Nice run by Knowshon.

Second effort by Southerland for a first down.

Sweet spin move by 24. Knowshon is the best 24 not featuring Jack Bauer.

HUGE hole and run by Knowshon. Hell, he may be better than Jack Bauer. Better than Season 6 Bauer for sure.

3rd and goal. From the 1 and a half.

24 flies in the air for a touchdown.

A “planned” full team celebration! Gotta love that Mark Richt! How fucking cool is that? Richt is grinning like the Joker on the sideline. Certainly worth the penalty to send a message. Holy shit? 30 yard penalty on the kickoff? It’s called “unsportsmanlike” by the refs, but that’s just not Richt’s style. Psychological warfare more like it.

Promo with Tim Worley talking about two ass-whippings of the Gators. Ahhhh, the good old days.

Kicking off from the 7.

Foul on the Gators! That helps. Net net, Jorts have it on the 34. Not bad.

Percy Harvin is good, dammit. But he’s still named Percy.

Fuck me sideways. Tebow to Murphy. TD. Jones was there, but he didn’t move on the ball at the last minute. Shit.

HUGE TD pass from 7 to 1. 84 yards. What a frozen rope. Beautiful catch. And imagine that, another celebration/unsportsmanlike penalty. 1 gave the Jorts fans a “gator chomp.” Suck that, Percy Harvin. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of these penalties throughout the game.

Ruby Tuesday’s commercial. I heard Tebow invented the salad bar.

CSI: Miami commercial. I heard Tebow told David Caruso everything he knows about the dramatic removal of sunglasses.

Kickoff and face mask. Shit. More laundry today than a freshman’s first trip home.

How many tackles can we miss on Percy Harvin? He’s getting fondled more than a Columbus stripper!

Blown direct snap to Moore! Still can’t sort out the recovery. Fuck. Gators ball. Why can’t they give the ball to “Keister” on every play?

Tebow sacked! 3rd and 26.

Sacked AGAIN! Can’t complain about the D AT ALL. Say what you will about Coach Willie (and we’ve all said plenty), but that TD wasn’t his fault. The guy was in position. And the front 4 and blitzes have been dialed up perfectly.

End of the first quarter. 14-7 Dawgs. Whoda thunk it? Still, lotta game left to play.


Can you have a "Cocktail Party" inside?

Today is another installment in the annual bloodletting, er, Georgia - Florida game. Also known as "The World's Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party." Yes, we will always call it that Michael Adams. Fuck you.

I won't say much about the game itself, other than I'm pessimistic as usual. I fondly recall the days when this "rivalry" was turned completely the other way, with Vince's Junkyard Dawgs frequently making fashionable accessories like shoes, belts and handbags out of ass-whipped gator hide. Sadly, for almost two decades, those tides have turned, and UGA is now the loser of 15 of 17 Cocktail Party gatherings. Cocktail Party? Now more like lame casserole pot luck dinner with neighbors you barely know but still hate because their kids trample your flowerbeds and leave bicycles in your yard. Yes, I'll have a glimmer of hope that we might pull off some improbable upset. Yes, I'll do my part (at home) to put the "cocktail" back in the "party." Yes, I've found a college football player I loathe even more than Danny Wuerffel or Kerwin Bell (that would be deluded holy-rolling, fullback wannabe Tim Tebow. If he is the first sophomore Heisman recipient, and not the historically more deserving Herschel Walker, I may kill myself). Yes, I'll hope we can "Rock the Boat" because "we've got the Kno-Shown." But do I think we can actually win this thing? If I put on my Spock ears and examine this contest completely logically, I begin to look at Jacksonville like a "Dawg" at Bad Newz Kennels looks at a rape stand. How's that for optimism?

Speaking of Jacksonville, there's been a lot of hubub the past few years about moving the game out of J-ville. I certainly understand both sides of the issue. First and foremost, UGAers are desperate to break the streak of futility, and think that a change of venue would bring some good juju. Yep, to do that may indeed bring about some Earl Hickey infusion of Karma, but doesn't that seem a bit like giving up, turning our canine tails and running? A more legitimate reason for the moving the game (permanently or occasionally) to the Georgia Dome has to do with recruiting. The game is played annually on Florida soil and does give a distinct advantage to the Jorts with regard to high school prospects. Why shouldn't we try to even that part of the ledger? And which state gets the economic and tourism boost from the annual match up of the two flagship universities? That would be the one with its denizens disgracefully clad in orange.

Of course, there is the very fiber of college football to consider -- tradition. Except for a stadium renovation project that resulted in a brief home and home series, the game has always been played in J-ville. And fans have their traditions, from staying around island destinations like St. Simons and Amelia to partying like Tommy Lee and Keith Richards at The Landing.

Moving the game to the antiseptic and poorly located Georgia Dome might even a few things up, but would it really be the same? For example, what would this...

"Florida in a stand-up five, they may or may not blitz, Belue third down on the 8, in trouble, he got a block behind him going to throw on the run, complete on the 25 to the 30, Lindsay Scott 35, 40, Lindsay Scott 45, 50, 45, 40. ... Run Lindsay, 25, 20, 15, 10, Lindsay Scott! Lindsay Scott! Lindsay Scott! ... Well, I can't believe it. 92 yards and Lindsay really got in a foot race I broke my chair. I came right through a chair. A metal steel chair with about a 5 inch cushion, I broke it. The booth came apart. The stadium... well the stadium fell down, now they do have to renovate this place... they'll have to rebuild it now. This is incredible. You know this game has always been called the World's Greatest Cocktail Party, do you know what's gonna happen here tonight, and up at St. Simmons and Jekyll Island, and all those places where all those dawg people have got those condominiums for 4 days. Man is there going to be some property destroyed tonight! 26-21, Dawgs on top. We were gone. I'd gave up, you did too. We were out of it and gone. Miracle!"

...sound like if it was played in the Dome?

"Florida in a stand-up five, they may or may not blitz, Stafford third down on the 8, in trouble, he got a block behind him going to throw on the run, complete on the 25 to the 30, Mikey Henderson 35, 40, Mikey Henderson 45, 50, 45, 40. ... Run Mikey, 25, 20, 15, 10, Mikey Henderson! Mikey Henderson! Mikey Henderson! ... Well, I can't believe it. 92 yards and Mikey really got in a foot race I almost broke my chair. I almost came right through a chair. But it was one of those new office chairs from Dome sponsor Staples with about a 5 inch cushion, so I didn't break it. The booth could have come apart, but Arthur Blank really knows his building products, so it hung in there. The Dome?... well the Dome just stayed put. Didn't move an inch. That 1998 Falcons NFC West banner hanging way up on the ceiling waved a bit, but pretty much this entire teal and peach indoor monstrosity didn't budge. But it so lacks in personality I really wish they'd renovate this place... or have to rebuild it now. This is incredible. You know this game has always been called the World's Greatest Cocktail Party, until of course Michael Adams tried to fuck that up. Yeah, changing the nickname of a ballgame is really doing to discourage underage drinking. That's the whole reason college students knock back a few beers. I think I heard some of the students now calling it the Greater Atlanta Area's Second Biggest Party After Freaknik But The One You Likely Won't Get Mugged or Raped At. Do you know what's gonna happen here tonight, and up in Roswell and Alpharetta, and all those places where all those Dawg people have paid for overpriced Marriott Courtyards for four days? And in those chain-link paved parking lots where the tailgaters keep getting hit up by the bums and homeless for spare change and Colt 45s? Man is there going to be some property destroyed tonight! 26-21, Dawgs on top. We were gone. I'd gave up, you did too. We were out of it and gone. Miracle!

Wouldn't be quite the same, would it?

Saturday Morning Entertainment Roundup

Anyone catch 30 Rock on Thursday? Behold Alec Baldwin's Jack Donaghy employing creative techniques to keep Tracy Jordan from dogfighting. Two thoughts come to mind: 1. I would have never quit therapy if it was this much fun and this effective. 2. Arthur Blank should have called in Jack Donaghy last year. And speaking of the ASPCA's favorite number 7, where was this judge when you needed him? (I don't understand the guilty party in this situation. What did the dog do? Even though I'm more of a cat person, wouldn't it have made much more sense to toss the girlfriend off the balcony? I mean, just logically?)

What the hell is it with the cast of Lost and DUIs? Does this mean Michael will return and shoot him?

As promised, Mad Men did deliver a sensational finale. I still don't know quite what to make about the "shocker" with Peggy. Is it even possible not to know? In an hour (almost a full hour, too, with no commercials) of solid writing and acting, there were many, many highlights, including this one: Don's pitch to the Kodak folks about "The Wheel."

We've all heard Johnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue." How about "A Man Called Jayne?"

Fun video snippet of Tricia Helfer's favorite fight scenes. Two observations (other than the obligatory "that kicks ass"): That last little tidbit? "The fight ends in hot sex, but not with Baltar?" Hmmmmm. And is LeeLee Sobieski a replicant created from Helen Hunt's DNA?

Check out Skiffy for a new BSG short. This one? AWESOME. Fighting skydiving. With a "classic" toaster. Did I mention AWESOME?

A tribute to the anniversary of Wrath of Khan, with Sylar/"new" Spock introducing the original cast. And in case you can't get enough "Khaaaan!" here's a handy website for you.

I'm terrible with geography, but is Williamsburg Greenpoint anywhere near Columbus, Georgia? Of course, this novel, The Delivery Man, could have been set there a couple of decades ago, too.

I'm still on the fence with Bionic Woman. Miguel Ferrer is underused and the show only really comes alive when Katee Sackhoff/Sarah Corvus is on screen. Plus, Isaiah Washington would hate Dumbledore. However, this week's episode showed a bit of wit, and how much better and emotive was Michelle Ryan when she was using her natural Brit accent? Too bad Jamie Sommers isn't revealed to be originally from across the pond.

What happens when Darth Vader falls in love.

TV Squad has a countdown of the scariest TV characters. A few highlights:
  • The evil troll doll. Yes, the special effects are horribly outdated now. But I remember watching this as a kid and not sleeping for days, wondering where this little monster was going to be.
  • The Peacock Family. Holy shit. Who wasn't freaked the fuck out the first time they saw this episode? Hell, they could be from Columbus, too.
  • Eugene Tooms. More fun from The X-Files. Another classic sitting on the edge of your seat creepfest for Mulder and Scully.
  • The Gentlemen. A perfect episode of Buffy, with everything that made it great. Stellar writing and acting, horror, innovative plotting, humor and character.
  • Weeping Angels. A great example of how to do a lot with a little, from Doctor Who.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

In contrast, a pet friendly environment!

Michael Vick's Atlanta home is for sale.

What a coincidence. So is mine! Mine has one less bedroom, the same number of fireplaces, and I'll let it go for several million dollars less.

Other differences:
  • Mine is pet friendly, and does not include any "rape stands."
  • I don't have a Matt Schaub dartboard in the game room.
  • No doormats inscribed with "Ookey."
  • My detached garage isn't painted flat black.
  • No warrants ever served at my place (if only because bill-avoiding trollops are good at staying "off the grid.")
  • "Mexico" was a vacation destination from my house, not an alias for the inhabitants of the house.
  • Taxes are way, way less at my place.
  • Marcus Vick never waved a gun at the neighborhood McDonalds.
  • I don't have an Aquafina bottle safe for valuables.

Saturday Morning Entertainment Potpourri!

Rescue Me's Dammit Janet! will be appearing on Lost next year.

The talented and adorable Kristen Bell makes her first appearance on Heroes Monday. Can she use all her charm to make me give a shit about Peter and the Lucky Charms gang? Perhaps. Check out a preview of her here.

Nine reasons to Love Mad Men from TV Guide, here. I've yet to watch the season finale, though my non-spoilery web-skimming indicates that it is fantastic -- though with a controversial plot element. Hmmm. That should be interesting.

More from TV Guide: notes about the debut of the 24 Season 7 trailer. After last season's colossal misfire, I'm hoping for a strong rebound. I posted my thoughts on how to "fix" things here. Doesn't sound like they really listened to me, but I am mildly intrigued. Billy Walsh/Wally Balls? Faux Kristen Chenowith's real life girlfriend as the Prez? Tony! Left wing nutjob though still adorable Janeane Garofalo? Will she and Chloe have a pout and snark-off? Doctor Phlox? Amateur poon-ographer Brent from Dirt? I'll check it out. Here's the countdown to the trailer premiere.

One of my pet peeves is mis-quoted movies. Here is a list of the most frequently mis-quoted quotes. And another one.

And you thought people were through debating whether or not Tony Soprano is dead? Think again. Apparently, David Chase made a comment about Gerry Torciano's whacking in the restaurant in front of Silvio, and that spurred another round of detailed analysis. Fascinating stuff.

I finally watched last Friday's premiere of Women's Murder Club. It played like a combination of Sex In The City and CSI, and was a decent enough way to pass an hour while drinking beer and eating pizza. I love Angie Harmon (my favorite Law and Order ADA) and Laura Harris is a long time celebrity crush, with absolutely perfect hair. As I watched the credit unroll, I was flabbergasted by the producers: James Patterson, the former adman turned novelist, who wrote books on which the show is based. Showrunners/writers Elizabeth Craft and Sarah Fain, former writers and story editors for Angel. Creepy daughter pimping loon Joe Simpson. Chubby Hollywood starlet-banging playa and hack director Brett Ratner. Did the latter two hatch this idea when they were sitting around Brett's hot tub talking about Jessica's tits? Just bizarre. Still, I like the cast and I'll always give a shot to any show featuring former Whedon writers.

Auto Parts stores are cool, and so are South Africans

I had an interesting Friday.

When I moved up here, I needed to have a trailer hitch installed on my SUV so I could haul all of my short term stuff behind me in a glorious and aerodynamic U-Haul. I've never needed a trailer hitch before, and didn't relish the thought of spending close to $2,000 for the "towing package." Of course everything is more expensive when you're dealing with a BMW ("replace that cupholder? That will be $1,632 dollars, sir. Achtung, motherfucker!"). Hell, if I had gotten the "official" package from the dealership, I probably could have flown my coffeemaker and 22 UGA golf shirts directly here in first class for less.

However, someone at the dealership took pity on the defeat in my voice when I heard the price of a trailer hitch. He recommended this innovative new product that was coming over from South Africa. It had one representative in the US, and he just happened to be in Atlanta. And the name of the company? Star Trek! (Of course, that won't last, given copyrights and all. But I saw it as a sign from the planet Vulcan). They could put a hitch on the vehicle for a fraction of what I was quoted elsewhere. And the design was pretty freaking cool. It could be easily taken off and put back on at my leisure, and the bimmer would look the same, and not like I'm toting a bass boat to the crick this weekend with a case full of iced Shaeffer. Awesome. And it would only take an hour to install. Even better, as I was up to my ass in pre-move activities.

Well, I won't recount the horror of my "day" at the installation facility. Needless to say, it was on the far side of Atlanta. And it took over 6 hours. And the "facility" where I spent the day had no waiting room, only one rickety chair. And I got stuck in Friday rush hour traffic returning to my house.

Well, I finally got up here with the U-Haul and unpacked. Dropped off the U-Haul the next day. And when it was time to take off the hitch and return my vehicle to normal (and remove the Dale Earnhardt and Bass Pro Shop stickers from my back window), guess what? The key didn't work. The hitch could not be removed. Of course. So I've been driving around for two months with a protrusion out the ass of my car, like a redneck hemorrhoid.

Fortunately, when I contacted the company that came up with this innovation, they were beyond concerned and helpful. They lamented the fact that their choice of Atlanta installer was a poor one, and vowed to make it right. Of course, not having nationwide franchises like McDonalds complicated the matter, given the fact that I was in Maryland and they weren't really anywhere. So here was the solution. Two of the co-owners of the company were flying from South Africa to (ironically) Atlanta, and then on to Vegas for an auto accessories show. They would schedule a layover in my area, and I would pick them up at the airport and they would right the wrongs of the moronic installers.

So this Friday, I make my way to Dulles airport in rush hour to pick them up. Let me say now that DC traffic is only slight below that of Atlanta in terms of blood boiling frustration. Still, everything went as planned, and I picked up two delightful funny-speaking gentlemen at the curb, and they had tools and a brand new hitch. Fortunately, they spoke a sort of broken English in addition to whatever else they were fluent in. Now, keep in mind I don't live near Dulles. And there is no local dealership in which to do the work. So where the hell do you go to take off your bumper and install a new trailer hitch with two wacky South Africans? To a Starbucks parking lot, naturally.

We pull up in a remote area of a strip mall parking lot, and start the work. I'm working the crackberry, quaffing Ventis like they're going out of style. "Do Americans really drink that much coffee? Are these places everywhere?" ask the boys. Oh, yes, my friends. Oh yes. About halfway through the process, they realize they need some.....well.....stuff. After a game of South African charades, I understand they need WD-40. Fortunately, between the crackberry and the GPS, I have the world at my fingertips and we discover that there's an Advance Auto Parts a couple of blocks from there. One of the guys hops into the car with me, and the other stays in the parking lot to watch over the nuts, bolts and my back bumper. I'm sure that must have been surreal for the panhandler that had come up him as we returned. Some random dude standing in a Starbucks parking lot, surrounded by tools and a large silver bumper, smoking Marlboro reds and trying to explain "I don't have a dollar for you - beat it" in a foreign language.

Anyway, when we got to the auto parts store, the guy with me thought he was in heaven. Rows and rows of auto parts, all neatly labeled. Same question as Starbucks: "are these places everywhere?" Uh, yep again. You know, the rest of the world may hate us, but when it comes to convenient coffee and auto parts, fuck 'em. We've got it covered. Take your enlightened politics and rich cultural heritage and stick them up your ass, Europe. If I want a can of WD-40 and a huge Venti Sumatra with double cream, I can get 'em in 10 minutes on any street corner. That's worth dumping tea in a harbor and a little waterboarding among friends, right?

The guys quickly completed their work in the Starbucks parking lot, and now I have a perfectly working (and easily removable) trailer hitch. They were very, very cool and I can't tell you how nice it was to finally have something go right. Think about it. A South African company with virtually no American presence could have let one customer off in the hinterlands of Maryland just get stuck with a faulty install. What could I have done? There was no retail store to stand in front of and bitch. I could blog about it, and the literally dozens of readers here could boycott them the next time they needed a nifty hitch installed on their bimmer. The only "place" I could actually go to have the work done "right" was over 10 hours away. But they changed their trans-continental flight plans to help out one single customer and make sure everything was handled and that I was happy. Now THAT, my friends, is customer service.

After I dropped them off back at the airport, they said they had a few hours before their next flight and would probably take a cab tour of DC, just so they could see some more of America. I told them that would probably be interesting (I still wanna tour DC myself), but if they really want to know what "America" is all about, pay attention in Vegas. The excess, the waste, the consumption, the gambling, the glitz, the shiny insincerity -- THAT is America. If they were impressed by a Starbucks and an auto parts store, just think how they'll feel strolling through the Bellagio or Caesars.

So, a big THANKS to my new South African friends, and a company that really stands behind its product.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Great Mad Men Article

Maureen Ryan has a fantastic, in-depth piece on TV's current best show, AMC's Mad Men. In addition to her analysis and reporting, there's also a great interview with the show's creator, Matthew Weiner.

If you're a fan of the show, it's a must read. Note: There are mild spoilers, but they're all clearly marked and in reality, not that significant. Enjoy.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Love, life and crime in a small town. A ZOMBIE town.

I can't believe I never heard a thing about this pilot being developed for CBS: Babylon Fields. An hour long drama about the ramifications of people -- dead people -- in a small town coming back to life as zombies.

Is this any more far out than some of the other programs that made it to air? And hell, it's certainly a better idea than some of the continuing stream of reality crap that pollutes our channels (and most certainly will with even greater volume if there is indeed a writer's strike).

Check out this link to read more about this pilot that sadly, didn't make the fall line up nor even the mid-season replacement slate. And be sure to watch the three snippets of video. Tell me you wouldn't watch a show about a town of zombies.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Well, I know somone that likes to fuck ATMs. Is that close?

An artificial intelligence professor thinks it won't be long until humans have sex with and marry robots. In fact, he believes the sex part should happen within five years and that Massachusetts (of course) will be the first state to legalize robot marriage.

I'm not sure about all of that, but I know I've longed for the "reboot" option quite a few times. Plus, it reminds me of this line from Season 5 of Angel:

FRED: We think so. The nervous system seems human at least, but the rest of the technology is so foreign to us. We can't be sure of anything right now. This thing really blurs the line between human and robot.

SPIKE: Aha! So you're not ruling out that a human being could've boffed a robot. Sex with robots is more common than most people think.


Another Saturday, another "Husker" moment

Go to www.scifi.com to check out another Bill "Husker" Adama webisode.

Ain't buying what you're selling, honey

A little while ago, there was a Craig's List posting from a shallow trollop who wanted nothing more than to get married to a rich dude. It didn't take long, but someone has posted a very true and amusing response. You can read both, and chuckle, here.

That reminds me of something a former mentor once told me: "If it flies, floats or fucks -- rent, don't buy."

Saturday morning entertainment potpourri

Would a Serenity direct to DVD sequel be a good idea? Personally, I think that I would take more Firefly adventures in any format I can get them. Eventually, someone will attempt to capture the "pay as you go" model for delivering ad-free content outside the studio/network model, and there's probably no better person to try than Joss. Think about it. Would you pay $0.50 or $1.00 per episode for new adventures of with the crew of Serenity? Or in the Buffy/Angelverse? I would. The weekly budget for production for a new show is typically in the $1,000,000 range. That would mean 1 million fans would have to pony up a buck each week to watch a show. Fans in larger numbers pay that each week to download episodes they've already seen for free from I-Tunes. And great, great shows that aren't exactly CSI or Grey's in terms of total viewers average 2 - 4 million viewers each week, and that's enough to get you cancelled. If half of those folks ponied up the change left over from coffee each week, that would be enough to support an ad-free, direct sell show. Just something to think about, and fans of Joss are among the most rabid and supportive.

Speaking of Joss, two more items. He's going to direct another episode of The Office. And those Buffy "sing alongs" in theatres? Canceled, because of greed. Hey, I'm an Ayn Rand/Gordon Gekko fan from way back. But were these things really "hurting" anyone? Was someone attempting to generate enough funds to build a secret army or buy up real estate like Lex Luthor? No, they were mainly a labor of love, and a way for fans to celebrate a common passion. I was fortunate enough to participate in one a few years back at Dragon-Con, but also wanted to attend one of the updated versions touring the country right now. My dear Atlanta friends the Es went to one during one of my recent trips down for a UGA game (I didn't go -- I was busy watching a different type of horror show: a Willie Martinez coached defense), and said it was a blast. Unfortunately, they may have attended one of the very last ones. That just sucks.

Earlier this week, I posted my "daemon" from The Golden Compass. As I noted then, I haven't read the books, but now I'm even more inclined to pick them up. Any thing delusional zealot and blowhard Bill Donohue thinks is bad, I would tend to like. I didn't check out the Narnia movie, because of the religious backstory and ham-fisted allegories. ("It's just like Lord of the Rings! Except more poorly written and full of God!") It's well known that CS Lewis wrote those stories with a rather thinly veiled agenda, and I find it amusing that Pullman's "Dark Materials" trilogy tries to provide a balance to that and is getting blasted by believers in one fairy tale who condemn another (that is just as equally and logically plausible).

A meeting of the geek-verses. Kevin Smith loves Lost.

The Top 20 Starship Captains. Yes, there are some facts wrong in there. But it's a fun list. And any "top 6" that includes Jean-Luc Picard, James T. Kirk, Han Solo, Mal Reynolds and Bill Adama is fine in my book (But Kathryn "I never met a temporal rule or Prime Directive I couldn't break" Janeway? Please).

The new TV season has been all over the place for me thus far. I will say that of the many new and returning shows I was excited about, there are still two lurking in my faux "Now Playing" list that I haven't yet watched: Reaper and Pushing Daisies. I'm looking forward to watching both of those.

Many of the returning shows just haven't done it for me. Law & Order: SVU has been downright terrible. Heroes has been lackluster (the "Lucky Charms" gang? The spanish Wonder Twins?) and only the Kensei story and the return of Sylar are keeping me interested. HIMYM has been okay, but seems to be missing something. The Office has had some great moments, but the hour-longs tend to wander too much and have characters behaving too stupidly for their own good occasionally. On the other hand, Desperate Housewives has been better, particularly with the addition of the devilish and MILF-tastic Catherine Mayfair (Dana Delany) and her husband, Captain Tightpants. House has delivered one rock solid and laugh out loud funny ep after another. Bones has been very good. Law and Order: CI's move to USA hasn't hurt it, either. It's always been my favorite of the Law and Order troika, and I dig Logan's new partner, the quirky and scorching hot Alicia Witt (who is replacing another quirky hot "firecrotch" -- as Witt's character was called on Thursday's ep -- Julianne Nicholson -- while she is on maternity leave).

Of the news shows I've seen, I'm really digging Chuck. And Bionic Woman is all over the map. The pilot was okay. The second ep was terrible and leaden. The third ep was outstanding. Michelle Ryan hasn't exactly won me over with her flat line readings, but she has nice lips. The star of the show, however, is Katee Sackhoff as the "Faith-esque" first bionic woman Sarah Corvus, and lights up the screen whenever she's on. Although they weren't part of the fall network premieres, I have really enjoyed Mad Men and Torchwood. In fact, I since we don't have BSG or Lost right now, I would proclaim Mad Men the Best Show on TV. It just keeps getting better and better, and I'll be sad when the season finale airs next week (though it will be back for a second season. Yeah!). Tragically, I don't have Showtime here in temp living land, so I can't say anything about Season 2 of my favorite new show from last year, Dexter. Guess I'll have to catch up on that via DVD next year.

I was all prepared to hate Moonlight. It has an unbelievably troubled development history, got panned by several prominent critics and its premise seems like a complete rip-off of one of the all time classics, Angel. However, I've seen three eps now and I'm quite entertained. No, it's no Angel, but the leads are charismatic enough and if it can inject just a bit of wit, it should be a keeper.

Did Bill Gates buy ESPN?

I watch and listen to a lot of ESPN "products." I'll have on SportsCenter or ESPNnews in the background at home, or listen to streaming ESPN radio over the interwebs at work occasionally. And I've noticed something the past couple of months that's driving me crazy. I keep hearing "Windows" noises. I'll be on the computer and suddenly think I've hit the wrong key or that something has happened with an application, when I realize that it's coming from ESPN. They've started featuring subtle "sound effects" that sound just like one of the many alerts, sounds or warnings that are also emitted by a Microsoft application. Has anyone else noticed this, or am I just losing my mind?

Monday, October 8, 2007

I have a Crow Daemon

I determined this from a link I found over on Pop Candy. The concept of Daemons, an animal spirit representation of the soul, can be found in Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy. The first movie version of the series, The Golden Compass, comes out later this year. Somehow, this geeky series never made it to my reading list, but from everything I've heard about it, it should.

Here's a picture of my daemon -- Aurora -- a female crow.


Notes from the site:

I'm modest, solitary, dependable, a leader and assertive.
Human and daemons are typically the opposite sex.
Aurora is a crow, which make up roughly 4% of the daemon population.

To find your own daemon, check out The Golden Compass site.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

Hope dies a cruel death on the banks of the Tennessee River

If last weekend was a topsy-turvy tsunami of college football upsets, I don't even know how to characterize this weekend. This weekend, Notre Dame won. The king of the road, UGA's Mark Richt, got blown out in Knoxville. USC lost at home to the Fighting Harbaughs of Stanford. (Stanford!) No. 5 Wisconsin got whipped by a team coached by Ron Zook. (Yes, you read that right. Ron Zook).

Now UGA sits at 4 - 2, with all hopes of any SEC achievement pretty much sunk along with all the Jack Daniels bottles thrown overboard by the waterbound tailgaters of the Volunteer Navy. First and foremost, congrats to those wearing the color that looks like the diaper of a baby forcibly fed strained carrots for a month. Phat Phil, Chavis and Cutcliffe cooked up a good game plan and executed it (and us, with no ciggie or blindfold) exceptionally. We were outcoached, outhustled, outmanned and obviously, outscored. Here are the UGA highlights:

  • Mimbs can kick.
  • The much maligned Tripp Chandler had a good game, and manned up after weeks of harsh criticism.
  • Goodman made a nice catch.
  • We still have better uniforms that UT.

Did I miss anything?

Here's what we can be concerned about:

  • Our D, which historically has kept things close, is now susceptible to embarrassing blowouts.
  • Our O and D lines, a cause of concern because of depth and inexperience coming into the season, are severely overmatched.
  • Our receivers can't get separation and often can't catch.
  • Our QB, with all the talent in the world, still makes throws off his back foot and goes through periods of wild inaccuracy.
  • The cries for Willie Martinez's job will only grow louder.
  • In the past couple of years, we've had games where we looked thoroughly unprepared. For both opponents "big" and "small."
  • Our gameplans on both sides of the ball are questionable, poorly executed, or both.
  • We have a horrible tendency to shit the bed on a national stage. Don't think this doesn't stick with writers, analysts and voters.
  • We seem to have a dearth of leadership.
  • A traditional model of consistency would suggest that you win the ones you should, and at least split the ones you shouldn't. Now, with the exception of the Trade School, who knows?

That was an ugly one, Dawg fans. And there are a lot more questions on the horizon than there are answers, I'm afraid.

I am not Nostradamus.

Nor am I Jimmy the Greek. Or the guy Wooderson played in that awful flick with Pacino. Nope, I didn't pick games very well. More on the UGA - UT "game" later, if I can type without throwing up.

This lack of prognostication skills relates to an appearance as a special guest "picker" in the Freebirds' weekly college football pool. The past couple of weeks, my friends were lamenting the fact that they had gotten only 2 or 3 right (out of 10) in their weekly pick 'em pool and were at wits end. To change the juju, they suggested I pick for them this week. I was happy to oblige. Rules were simple. You had 15 games and you had to pick 10. Here were my choices:

Favorite Underdog Spread Pick
South Carolina Kentucky 3.5 Kentucky
Georgia Tech Maryland 2.5
Maryland
Miami (FL) North Carolina 7.5
Auburn Vandy 8.5 Auburn
Illinois Wisconsin 2.5 Wisconsin
Oklahoma Texas 9.5
Tennessee Georgia 2.5 Georgia
Florida State NC State 17.5
Penn State Iowa 7.5
Clemson Virginia Tech 5.5 Clemson
Rutgers Cincinnati 3.5 Rutgers
LSU Florida 7.5 Florida
Ohio State Purdue 6.5 Purdue
UCLA Notre Dame 20.5
Missouri Nebraska 6.5 Nebraska

Green is correct. Red is incorrect. As you can see, I only improved their fortunes if their previous batting average was .000, .100 or .200. Ouch.

Sorry about that Freebirds.

Saturday, October 6, 2007

UGA - Vols Quiz

Fun quiz from the AJC on the UGA - Vols game. I scored 70%. You?

I think they were missing a few questions, however:

UT Coach Phil Fulmer most resembles:
A. Jabba the Hut with a spray on tan
B. The Great Pumpkin
C. The Michelin Man covered in sherbert

In Knoxville, it's okay to sleep with:
A. Your cousin
B. Your sister
C. Your mother
D. All the above

The number 5 represents:
A. The number of kick return TDs UT could give up to Mikey Henderson
B. The number of children former Vol Travis Henry fathered by different mothers as an undergrad
C. The average number of teeth for a Vols fan

Dawgs vs. Rebels: The Game Day Experience Vol III

Okay, all this is a week old, thanks to a debilitating cold I had last week and assorted other responsibilities. So I won't delve into too many details, as everyone's focus has now turned to the accursed and despised Vols. (Number ONE on my "Hated UGA Rivals" list, followed closely by the Gators). All in all, it was a comparatively subdued weekend, thanks mainly to the relatively early kick off time. Though that didn't seem to stop the Freebird from bending the laws of time and space to get far drunker with an early kickoff than he has with a 6 PM kickoff. Perhaps he's a Time Lord, like Doctor Who.

Two interesting things from the aiport before the flight. First, the older guy checking my bags curbside noticed the "G" logo on my shirt and said "how 'bout them Dawgs." I asked him if he was a UGA fan, and he said," "not really," but that he always responds to the "G" logo because he was a Green Bay fan, and we share a logo. I mentioned my time in cheeseland, and we started talking. Turns out, he was a Packers fan because his son played there: Antonio Freeman -- Packers wideout, Virginia Tech grad (who hasn't killed dogs or been suspended for screaming at his head coach -- guess that only happens in Atlanta) and former member of the Area 51 Fantasy Football team! (his dad didn't offer up that last tidbit, that's just my observation). His dad was a truly nice guy, and we chatted for about 10 minutes while I enjoyed a pre-flight smoke. I gave him a nice tip for checking my bag, though if I had ever spawned an NFL player, I'd expect to be playing golf in the Caribbean in my old age, surrounded by nubile island girls, not checking bags for some drunk with a "G" on his shirt. The second thing I noticed at the airport was during the X-Ray Shuffle, when the dude in front of me pulled out all the gizmos from his rollaboard. There was a tiny black box, about the size of an outdoor Bose speaker, labeled "REM-Master." Being a sleep apnea sufferer myself, I instantly recognized the device as a CPAP (or, as a charming ex used to call it, the "snuffaluffagus."). But his was tiny! I haven't gotten a new one in quite some time. CPAP envy! Once the whole "pre-existing condition" bullshit on insurance passes through, I'm gonna have to see about an upgrade.

After the MARTA pickup, Freebird and I made our usual stop for provisions in Dawsonville. Inexplicably, the same value pricing for tallboys was present: $8.99 for a 12 pack of Lite tallboys. $9.49 for a 12 pack of twelve-ounce Lites. I'm in marketing, and I have a hard time understanding this one. Was there extra inventory of tallboy cans that Miller is desperate to get rid of? It also carried over to suitcases -- where the tallboys were also priced cheaper than the twelve ouncers. Odd. But welcome, for those of us appreciate the lower cost per ounce of beery goodness. We also stopped at a hole in the wall restaurant for some dinner and sat by the jukebox (the bar was occupied by a hairy gent proudly wearing his third tier strip club t-shirt. I'm sure at some point he paid $20 to finger-bang a mother of four). On the jukebox was taped a note reading: "No rap or metal until after 10. Thanks. management." The way it was laid out on the page, however, featured a section torn out. It could have been a "heavy" in front of "metal." Meaning that previously, before 10, "regular" metal was quite alright, but you really had to save the "heavy" stuff for after 10. (Poison or Winger would be okay at 8:37, but no Black Sabbath until 10:03, I guess). Or, it could have been an entirely different genre that was prohibited until after 10. What else could fall into pre-10 ban? Boy bands? Polka music?

I should have recognized Freebird was in for a fun weekend when he observed on Friday night that diminutive Va Tech running back Noel Devine was like a "black hobbit." But we were disappointed that he was wearing shoes. If a hobbit was really part of a team, would the NCAA discriminate against them and make them wear shoes? Samoans get to keep their wild hair, and there was a trend in the 70s for letting kickers go barefoot. We wonder about these things.

From my previous Game Day posts, you know that occasionally there can be some marital discord over driving skill in the Free Ride to the game. I usually play like the Swiss, read my paper and drink my screwdriver. This time, we were transporting the Wee Free to the designated babysitter dropoff, and Miz Freebird took the wheel for the first leg. Not long into the journey, we were on a long straightaway, and she decides to adjust the AC (apparently, I did something to the fan to take it off "auto"). As she looks down to fiddle with the controls, and sunlight is beaming directly into the windshield, the car drifts a bit to the right. Just at that moment, we notice some older dude jogging on the right side of the road. From my vantage point in the passenger's seat (Freebird was in the back, watching Barney), we missed the jogger by 3 feet. Not that close, if it's a putt. Pretty close, if you have a ton or so of SUV bearing down on you at 50 MPH as a jogger. In the rear view mirror, we saw the dude shaking his fists at us as we sped down the road. No harm, no foul. Though it could have been something like this. Later, there was an "almost" incident with a truck and trailer at a 2 way stop, but all things considered, the near miss with jogger roadkill was much, much funnier. She also pointed out that she hates to take her vehicle to the tailgate because it always gets messy. Yep, there's the leaky coolers and bags of chips and such that can make a mess. Scrubbing a 50 year old dude and his Nikes off the front fender would have also required some elbow grease and Turtle Wax.

I heard about this at the tailgate, and most of my regular readers will get a kick out of it. Any Theta Chis recognize the setting?



Also, many of us would recognize waking up on a couch in the front yard and the car in the ballroom.

For some bizarre reason, the people tailgating next to us decided to provide the soundtrack to Freaknik. Not sure that's really the traditional staple of southern tailgates, but kids these days. Plus, after the whole meme about "Soulja Boy" and the sideline tailback dancing, I fear it could spread. Is it too much to ask for a little REM, Allman Brothers or even Clarence Carter? (Clarence Carter, Clarence Carter....oooooooooohhhhh shit! Clarence Carter). Sigh. I'm old.

One serious note. We had several "special guest tailgaters" this past weekend, and Hank was regaling his friends with old time tales of our youth. He spoke fondly of the many afternoons and weekends at my casa, playing hoops, cards and video games with Sam and Bettye, and I got a little misty (hidden, of course, behind the shades). Thanks for the memories. Sometimes, I get caught up in all the shit of day to day life, and forget that. It's nice to hear someone else's fond recollections of them and that time in my life.

For the game, the Freebirds were like George and Weezie, and moved on up with the M's. The special guest stars enjoyed the game with us, except for the fact that someone very near to us evidently shit their pants without the aid of an astronaut diaper. Two rows down, some idiotic breeders brought their infant to the game. For a while, we watched the baby bake in the sun like sausage on a Waffle House griddle, and thought it was the kid who couldn't control his bowels. However, after junior probably suffered third degree sunburn, they took the kid back up to the shade of the concourse and the stench remained. I'm guessing someone in our section went to the Varsity or T-Stand the night before.

Not much to say about the game that hasn't already been said by now. We're not as bad as we looked in the first half, nor as good as we looked in the second. The D needs to stiffen, the RBs need to keep on keepin' on, and the receivers (cough*Chandler*cough) need to catch the ball. I loved the pure testicular fortitude CMR showed going on 4th and calling for a perfectly executed onside kick. Our coaching and playcalling has occasionally shown a serious sack of onions (like the aforementioned plays, and the end zone strike on first down in OT vs. Bama) but we need to do this throughout the game -- particularly in the second half.

After the game, we (finally -- given the previous late kickoff times) wound up at Applebees for the 5th Quarter show. Much food and beer was enjoyed by all. However, I found myself in a truly bizarre collision of universes. One of our "long lost" fraternity brothers was going to show up with his wife. He did (without his somewhere between Errol Flynn and Magnum PI mustache) and as I walked over to the table to say howdy, I saw -- sitting at the table with him, and apparently part of his "party -- the CFO of the homebuilder I worked for a year or so ago. What the fuck? (I think I may have blurted this out loud). Apparently, he and Brother Niles Crane are old friends. Truly bizarre. What are the odds of that? Is everything really connected? Like the Tommy Westphall multiverse? Holy Fuck.

While I was getting over that, Freebird was quaffing another Brewtus and pontificating about the Trade School win over Clemson. The point that was very, very important for him to make to the world at large was this this was another "typical Chan Gailey win." Of course, he's right. I was explaining this to a Terp alum at work yesterday (they play the bugs today). Every year, Chan wins one game he shouldn't and gives fans hope the program is heading in the right direction. Then he loses games he shouldn't, gets beat like a rented mule by the Dawgs, and turns in another "not quite enough to get fired" season. But it wasn't enough for the table to understand this keen observation. Freebird wanted to call in to Dave's talk show (keep in mind, Dave was sitting 12 feet from us -- broadcasting from Applebees) and let the entire Southeastern listening audience know this. When he couldn't make his cell phone work or find the right telephone number to connect to the broadcast two tables away, he screamed across the bar: "What number do I need to call y'all???!!!" In a lucid moment, I suggest programming a speed dial for 960 the Ref for future Corso-esque football insight sharing.

The ride the E's was entertaining. For once, the boys didn't pass out, and Miz Freebird got over an hour of erudite and eloquent commentary from her passengers. (And bonus? No pedestrians died). When we hit the driveway in Lawrenceville, Freebird quickly wandered out of the car and we weren't' quite sure where he went. Apparently, he went into the house and greeted our friends. When Miz E came out moments later to see us, she immediately went to Miz Freebird, and reflecting on the 2 or 3 minutes just spent with a drunk/drunk/drunk* Freebird, said "you need a hug."

*Actual measurement scale. Much like DEFCONs.

All in all, a fantastic weekend. We kicked some Rebel ass, and as usual, the Freebirds and Es were wonderful and gracious hosts for my visit back to the homeland. Many thanks to them (and Thomas Brown) and all the other tailgaters for making my "home away from home" a terrific "mini-vacation." See y'all in November.

See some Husker

No, not indie rock band Husker Du. Nor Bill Callahan's just good enough not to get fired Nebraska team.

I'm talking about Bill "Husker" Adama. Rookie viper pilot.

Part of the upcoming 2 hour Battlestar Galactica movie "Razor" will feature flashbacks to Bill Adama's days as a youngun during the first Cylon Wars. You can see snippets during each Friday airing of Flash Gordon. Or, if you're like me and can't make it through that show, you can view them online at Skiffy the following Saturday, leading up to the November 24 premiere of "Razor." The main site should take you to the preview, or you can just search for it. Enjoy! So say we all.

Friday, October 5, 2007

I'm a psychotic stripper with mutliple personality disorder.

Hey, at least that's better than almost marrying one. The stripper in question is Niki, from Heroes. What I found out: "You have two distinct personalities, and at least one capable of superhuman feats. It's up to you to be a strong hero 100% of the time." Wanna find out what "Hero" you are? Then check out this quiz at EW.

Women rejoice. Here's a history of the vibrator over on Slate. And men? This is why you're good for mainly taking out the trash, cutting the lawn and depositing checks.

Here is a guide to Mad Men's New York.

Fun radio interview with Bionic Woman and Battlestar Galactica badass Katee Sackhoff.

Posting was light this week due to heavy travel and the fact that I got typhoid from a Southwest flight filled with urchins and discount travelers. Is there an airline for people who don't spawn? With free drinks, R-rated movies on the overhead monitors (Fight Club on East to West flights!) and rampant profanity from the captain and flight crew? ("Put your fucking tray tables up, asshats!" "This is the captain. We'll be hitting some goddamned turbulence soon, so hold on. And no need to make small talk with the vapid shitbag sitting beside you. They probably don't like you either.") I'd sign up for some frequent flyer miles. This weekend, I'll expand more on last Saturday's Gameday Experience, assuming I can find a way to mix Alka Seltzer Cold and Flu with Ketel One.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Interim Gameday Report

Sometime during the long tailgate and travel weekend, I seem to have caught a cold. So I feel like crap, and can barely work the remote control on the TV, much less a keyboard for posting the highlights of the gameday weekend. However, here are a few tidbits:

  • I got my bags checked at the airport by an NFL Pro-Bowler's dad.
  • I experienced CPAP envy at the airport security scan.
  • Jukeboxes in Dawsonville prohibit "rap" or "metal" until after 10 PM.
  • Tall boys of Miller Lite are still inexplicably value-priced.
  • Noel Devine is a black hobbit. But he shouldn't wear shoes.
  • The trip to Athens included a re-enactment of the 70s classic Death Race 2000.
  • There's a country video that features the old frat house as a character.
  • Freaknik broke out next to us at the tailgate.
  • Someone in our section at the game shit their pants, without an odor-absorbing astronaut diaper.
  • 320+ rushing, and Thomas Brown kicks ass. So does Moreno. Tripp Chandler? Not so much.
  • The personal and professional worlds collided mysteriously at Applebees.
  • When cell phones don't work as planned, just yell across a crowded bar: "What number do I need to call y'all?!"
  • Comment from the E's to Miz Freebird after spending 3 minutes with her hubby and passenger post game, post 5th Quarter show: "You need a hug."
  • Knocked Up is indeed funny, and I'm glad I got around to finally seeing it.

More expansive thoughts on the weekend later this week, if I feel up to it. All in all, a great weekend full of college football upsets, good times, great friends and most importantly, a Dawgs victory in an increasingly topsy-turvy SEC season. Woof.