Why You Suck

If only I had the rest of my life to write this. I think I'll make this a new Thursday feature, unless I'm hungover and think it's Thursday but it's actually Tuesday. Lot of similar letters there, easy mistake to make. Just yesterday I thought it was Thursday. That's not even CLOSE to the word "Wednesday." But then, Tuesday was a washout, what with post-St. Pat's armageddon raging in my skull. As was Wednesday. Which, for two hours, was Thursday. After that it was Angryday, otherwise known as when Thursday reverted back to Wednesday. But I digress.

Back to not liking you. This time, it's because you think celebrities are "OMG, soooooo beautiful and awesome and [eyes widening, speech becoming rapid] and talented and interesting and [head exploding]. Because, in reality, no.

Seriously. No.

Recently my breaking point for the amount of this shit I can take was today when, from three different news sources, I heard/read about 1) Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony's twins, 2) Halle Barry's kid, and 3) Brad and Angelina's (OMG, BEST couple EVER!) upcoming twins.

The happy couple

Isn't it enough that every time Britny Spears has an off-colored shit we have to know about? Now we have to know everything about every celebrity's fuck trophies? Dammit.

Why do you care? Really, why? Email me, write me, call me (not really), something, anything. Is there something I'm just not getting? Why do you care what these people's kids look like and what they're doing. There's a 94.7% chance you're kids will be ugly, anyway. And possibly retarded. No need to raise your expectations.

Don't laugh, he's yours

So put down your can of PBR and your Us Magazine, turn off Entertainment Weekly, call Cletus and Marlene in from the landfill and spend some time with your own demon spawn. Stop worrying about people that shouldn't matter to you's kids.

Pennypacker and Danforth: An Historical Retrospective

Yes, I've linked to it before, but the folks at someecards are really bang on. The makeup of the acquaintanceship between Pennypacker and me is best described in the following five cards:






Forgive the redundant nature of this redundantly published exercise in redundancy.

March Matters

Aside from being the birth month of yours truly (though it is debatable whether that is a plus or minus for humanity), along with some other top notch folks I know, March is important for a number of reasons. Perhaps in his newfound sobriety, Pennypacker forgot that St. Patrick's Day used to be his favorite holiday. Guy had a year-long countdown and would awake at 6 a.m. for a ceremonial car bomb, amongst other nefarious hijinks. Anyway, enjoy a sampling of March happenings:

The Good
Articles of Confederation established - 1781
Sir William Herschel, amateur humorist, discovers Uranus - 1781
Stoners of the Revolution, a lesser known offshoot of Daughters of the Revolution, rejoice as Vermont is welcomed into the Union - 1791
Ulysses "The S stands for shitkickin'" Grant takes control of the Federal Army - 1863
Bicycle enthusiast Albert Einstein born - 1879
Star Spangled Banner becomes our National Anthem - 1931
Dictator/wedding singer Joseph Stalin calls it a life - 1953

The Bad
Ohio (1803) and Nebraska (1867) enter the Union
Texas becomes a free agent - 1836
Congress outlaws polygamy - 1882
Congress fucks with time, approves daylight savings - 1918
America's greatest president, by weight, William H. Taft dies - 1930
Yoko Yoko's the Beatles; marries Lennon - 1969
Genius television producer decided "We need more boring!" C-Span hits the airwaves - 1979

The Ugly
The soothsayer was right! Caesar carved up by his pals - 44 B.C.
Boston Massacre - 1770
Three Mile Island validates "Harrisburg is a toxic shit hole" claims - 1979
Booze and huge oil tankers don't mix; Exxon-Valdez - 1989

Smarch Madness

Lousy Smarch weather. However, this weather brings us once again to the only thing March is good for: March Madness.

Finally, all your college basketball watching has paid off. It's been a long winter. You know what teams are good. You know what teams are bad. You know the hot conferences. You know the conference powerhouses. You're up on key injuries, key hot streaks, key rape trials. You don't only know the starting five; you know the whole bench. You know the assistant coaches. You know their wives and kids. You know where each game will be played, the exact mileage from the arena to each school; not only for the first round games, but for all potential games (you've run the scenarios) throughout every round until the last game. That tells you potential "home team" advantages. You know what teams do better at what times during the year. You know the strength of every schedule. You watch Selection Sunday with a hard on, making phone calls and telling all your friends who to pick. You fill out your bracket with the precision of a diamond cutter. You look at other people's brackets and scoff. Your picks are better. You put money down. No, not just in one pool. There's the office pool, the friends' pool, the bookie pool, the Vegas pool, the online pool. The money flows, but who cares. You know what you're doing. ESPN agrees with you. Sports Illustrated agrees with you. Hell, you should work for THEM. Your brackets are set. The money is on the line. You've done all the research. You know every team. You know every player. You know every game. You know all the odds. You know your picks are perfect...

You knew that girl would win again. You knew she'd make her picks based on how cute the mascots are. And she won again.

Don't worry, Jonny B-ball. Next year, you'll do more research.

Da Iggles, What Da Fuck Else!?

Sos me an' Vinny here was talkin' last Toosday 'bout WHAT ELSE!?!? THA Iggles. He was sayin' dat dere ain't no way Andy's gon' trade dat bum McNabb. What da hell is Andy thinkin'? Dat fuckin' bum can't even win us a fuckin' Sooper Bowl, and he's gon' START him next year? Vinny says his buddy Paulie up in Allentown heard his bookie say dat if McSlabb stays next year, he'll definately start. Fuck dat.

All I know is, dat no matter what, me an' my boys will be at all da Iggles games next year, and every year TIL WE FUCKIN' DIE! 'Cause we're true fans of the GREATEST TEAM ON EARTH! So what dat da fuckin' Giants won a third Sooper Bowl, and we're da only team in the East wit' no Sooper Bowls. Do the math and get educated! Philly's been the better team year after year, and besides, we got da best FUCKIN' FANS ON THE PLANET!

See dat? Ma looks good in her Nest of Death gear. She's a classy broad, dat one. She's already got her batteries ready ta trow at all those pussy Giants fans. Da season can't come soon enough. Just like Vinny! Ya get it? Huh? Well, fuck you. But GO IGGLES!!!

Link Time

Sign it. You know you want to.

Bird Rage, though I'd probably have anger issues if my name was Tripp.

Friday Night Lights is getting renewed. Shalom!

So what if it's old. Holograms, laser guns, cowboys, ninjas, mustaches and falsetto are all part of the Greatest. Music. Video. Ever.

Burning bush a figment of Moses' drug-addled imagination.

WTF

WTF II

Finally, wasting time has never been so colorful.

Brett Favre to football: "I love you, but I'm not IN love with you any more"

After 17 gunslingin' years, Brett Favre is finally calling it a career. Good riddance.

*Before this anti-Favre rant continues, it should be known that I am an unapologetic Dan Marino backer, though that only plays a small role in my overall distaste for all things #4.

Most of why I am not a Favre fan can be traced to the media's ongoing deifying (read: cock gobbling) of him. His ability to turn respected journalists into fawning, love-struck 15 year-old girls hoping that cute senior they've been crushing on asks them to Prom is both mind boggling and disturbing; dude is an NFL quarterback, not an amalgamation of Christ, Allah, Buddha and Vishnu.

To say objectivity gets cast aside when talking about Favre would be a massive understatement. Beaten severely and left to die in the shadow of his golden arm is more appropriate. For example, Ricky Williams will forever be remembered as a goofy stoner that quit on his team, but Favre's Vicodin addiction and subsequent trip to rehab have long been forgotten and are never mentioned. Nevermind that in the two years before Williams retired he led the league in rushing attempts and that both seasons rank in the top 14 of most rushes per season. Think he wasn't banged up a little? Or how about his well documented social anxiety disorder? Just so happens that marijuana has been proven effective as treatment for both pain and mood and mental health disorders. Meanwhile, Favre is lauded for his consecutive game streak, a streak partially fueled by pain killers. I'm not saying he should be vilified, but to go on and on about his lion heart while painting Williams as a coward and quitter is shameful since both were medicating the best way they knew.

Broadcasters and other media members seem to stop watching when Favre's propensity for throwing terrible interceptions rears its ugly head. Since taking over the full-time job in 1993, he has been in the top 10 in interceptions thrown in all but three seasons and he never had a season in which he threw less than 13. He is the career leader in interceptions thrown and only five people have thrown for as many touchdowns as he has picks. In 2003 he cost the Packers a trip to the NFC Championship when he wildly tossed a pass up for grabs against the Eagles and a similar mistake against the Giants this year prevented them from going to the Super Bowl. Coincidentally, neither was given so much as a mention when they happened and you can bet they won't be featured in the numerous career retrospectives we'll be subject to this week.

Now the Marino apologist in me can shine through. All quarterbacks are judged by whether or not they won a Super Bowl and because of this Favre will go down higher on the list than Marino (breaking his records doesn't hurt). However, in the year Favre led his team to victory, they had a balanced offensive attack that was in the top 10 in passing and rushing and ranked number one overall and the league's best defense, one that featured Reggie White, arguably the greatest defensive lineman of all time. Those Packers didn't have to face one of the greatest teams ever either. The 49ers of 1984 ranked fourth in passing, second in rushing and first in overall defense. I can accept that the ring makes the quarterback (which is why I think John Elway is the best ever), but I think they should be judged equally. The lack of a running game during Marino's career forced him to carry the team and allowed defenses to adjust as such. Anytime this is brought up people say stop making excuses for Marino not being able to get the job done, yet when Favre went 4-12 two years ago and he threw 29 interceptions the accepted reason was because there was a lack of talent around him. Favre couldn't win in Dallas and in his other Super Bowl appearance the Broncos won despite being heavy underdogs. This isn't necessarily forgotten, but it isn't his legacy. Marino, however, will forever be known as a guy that couldn't win the big game, regardless of similar career numbers and the inability to beat a rival when it mattered, in his case Buffalo.

Finally we come to his love of the game. To hear anyone else speak of it, you'd think the rest of the NFL was made up of a bunch of football playing robots waiting to cash a paycheck. One could never love the game as much as Farve did and no one ever will. awdgh...Sorry, I just vomited and some hit the keyboard. Give me a break. Professional football is a dangerous sport and many players experience terrible effects long after their playing days are over; just look at the fiasco that is happening with retirees and the NFLPA. Of course there are me first guys in the league, just as in any profession in the country, but to insinuate that Farve, or anyone for that matter, loves it more than anyone else, no questions asked, case closed, period, is laughable and a disservice to those that came before and those that put on the pads today.

All of this isn't to say that I hate Brett Farve, the man or the player. The Monday night game after his father died was one of the greatest performances I've ever seen in any sport, even if it did whip John Madden into a orgasmic froth. I just find it maddening that sports fans, those that cover him and the country in general worship him while criticizing others for similar transgressions or athletic deficiencies. So Brett, enjoy the Wranglers and thank you for making my future Sundays more enjoyable. Until Tony Romo's rapidly growing love surpasses yours.