Cleveland Cavalier Pride
This should hold Cleveland fans over until we can retire Lebron's jersey:
Cavs retire World B. Free's jersey
Your blog away from blog
Well, I stopped going to therapy and taking zoloft and all, so the most likely answer is "yes". But depression has it's upsides. Notably, getting a prescription to swim with dolphins.
Yeah, it's old news, and yeah every blog on earth has found it funny enough to mention, but I'd like to add another layer to the cake of mystery that is Karft's "Crumbelievable®" campaign for their cheese crumb products.
Our MySpace page has just collected our 110th friend. Frankly, I have nothing to do with the MySpace account; Tornetta more or less runs that with Shane. And maybe Ruth? I don't know. Anyway, we've got a hundred and ten friends, and here are some of my favorites:
At long last, those of you who never learned how to play guitar (and those of us who never learned how to play well enough to properly rock) can, no, WILL be rockstars. New Scientist reports that Finnish scientists have created a computerized system that recognizes air guitar moves, and translates them into actual guitar riffs.
apparently, there's someone at the International Doping Agency named...wait for it...dick pound.
140 hours= # of hours of sworn testimony collected by GOP controlled Congress on the issue of Did Bill Clinton Use White House Christmas Card List To Identify Potential Democratic Donors.
It's emusic time again, and my trip to Pittsburgh meant a visit to Paul's CD's and to Joe Stile's house, which means I have even more music to tell you about. Here's what's served up so far:
On the flight back from Pittsburgh, I spent most of my time gawking at the SkyMall catalogue. Anyone who's ever flown is familiar with it, and like me, probably noticed that it hasn't really changed in seven years. Since we were stuck in a holding pattern over O'Hare for about an hour, I got intimately familiar with the catalogue, and a couple of products struck me as amusing. I'll be posting them from time to time, and to get us started, I've got this wonderful piece of product, The Dog e-Tag.
I picked up a copy of the latest issue in the airport the other day, and it just so happened to be the annual cartoon issue. Of all the regular features in the New Yorker, the cartoons are my least favorite, just behind Goings on About Town. My value system, however, took a punch in the gut this week, because I actually saw a cartoon in the New Yorker that I liked. In fact, I laughed out loud. Here it is:
I'm changing the inflection of that good old Hank Williams song, if only to ask, with all sincerity, if YOU, gentle blog viewer, are in fact, ready for some football.
That wasn't a picture of Chuck Norris.
um. there may have been some ugliness involving grossness here earlier, but that's all behind us now. pun DEFIANTLY not intended.
I know I've been pretty vocal about the loss of Arrested Development, but it's a great loss to our TV world and I feel it's my duty to link up to this online petition to save this most brilliant of comedies:
Check this site out for some facts about Chuck Norris. Some of my favorites:
This surreal moment is brought to you by Capri Sun:
During a holiday like today, it's important to remember a guy like this
Anyone who's ever run on a treadmill knows it can be an awkward, comical experience. Anyone who's had an EKG knows that there's wires everywhere, and they ask you specifically to be as still as humanly possible. Lastly, anyone who's had an echocardiogram knows that they use sloppy, slippery gel to make the images come out cleaner, and BONUS! there's more wires involved. This is why I think Patch Adams invented the stress echocardiogram, which I had this morning. Only a doctor who is a clown at heart (no pun intended) would dream of combining these three elements into one rarely-conclusive test.
As I was driving down lake shore drive to my stress echo at Northwestern this morning, I had a thought.
swing on by the world's largest aquarium to find out exactly what kinds of fish will eat each other.
Actually, I'm dealing quite well with Sunday's loss. My intensity for football is due mostly to the contracted nature of the season- you have to pack six games of caring into one week, if you want to compare it to baseball, three or four games for basketball and hockey.
Whenever I daydream on my halcyon days in Britagne, my thoughts invariably prance about, from the fortified walls of Concarneau, to the outdoor markets of Hennebont, to the middle-age harbor charm of St. Gustan, but the one constant that guides my wandering nostalgia is a cheap bag of french cookies known as Furry Gouters.
Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon-The Inanimate Objects Addition
pitchfork did a countdown of the worst album covers of all time. pretty awesome. not much else to say.
So yeah, today's project: insomnia is not quite living up to wednesday's . I really wish I had slept. It's only 10:30. I've been at work for three hours. My concentration is Picabo Streeting (read: controlled slippin' and slidin' with possible endorsements for chapstick if I play my cards right), and I forgot my delicious lunch at home. How delicious could it have been, you ask? Feast your eyes on this feast of I's: (that was a bit forced. sorry.)
Yeah, I forgot to sleep again.
I'm crunching some numbers at my bad day job (soon to be replaced by my awesome day job...more later, as in when it actually happens), and the research data i'm cleaning right now is from...COOPERSTOWN!
Hey ipod geeks. I'm listening to le show by Harry Shearer. It's where it's at. Today's episode featured this great line, referring to Pat Robertson's threats to PA voters who booted Intelligent Design from their curriculum...
"NO, YOU'RE MORE THAN A FEELING, BOSTON!!!! *giggle*"
I'm listening to "Born to Run", more or less incessantly. Four plays in less than two days. That's quite a lot, when you consider it's up against 5000 other songs.
The dreaded insomnia bug hit me again last night. It's a quarter to six, and I've already showered and made my bed. I didn't sleep last night, choosing instead to google "heart disease" and look at empty message boards.
This is sort of a long-overdue plug, but while we were in Pittsburgh, we got a chance to see some of our friendly musician friends in the heart of steel country and if you get a chance, check out these guys:
Who's unemployed? Who likes to cry? Who likes Taiwan?
Working in a healthclub has brought me to light with a grouping of songs that have survived the test of time (many unfairly, I might add) through PA systems in gyms, grocery stores, and elevators. These are songs like John Mellencamp's almost-forgettable Wild Nights. A song that I wouldn't even call the best song on Human Wheels-one of the weaker albums
as the madden '04 season winds down, attention turns to the upcoming nfl draft- starring YOU!
jeez. yesterday the boss was all over cnn.com talking about "born to run", this morning he was on fresh air, again talking about "born to run".
if you are, for some reason, a big fan of my video work, feel free to check out godshow at Second City's Black Orchid theatre sunday nights. Second City mainstage and etc alumn tim O'Malley wrote this play about his comedy career and how drugs and alcohol didn't necessarily help it out.
i thought a thought and felt a feeling that was at once egotistic and self-depreciating!
By now, I suppose it's common knowledge. Arrested Development got the pink slip and ABC's Freddie did not. Hmm. I take back my apology from my previous post when I thought the rumor was a false alarm and reissue the calling to write to Fox and complain. Call it Tyranny if you like. It's a big word. If you want to use a little word, use dickless which is technically a bigger word, but the definition is smaller.
Watch THIS. It's a poignant statement for a poignant time.
for the next seven minutes, the animal club blog has been recast as a music blog, and the event you've been waiting the whole life of this blog for is here: baz's top ten of the year.