Archive for November, 2010


Smorgasblog II: Four Loko, Tony Parker, Unfriend Day, Etc.

November 17, 2010

Smell that? It’s another wonderful buffet of steaming hot Smorgasblog! I just want to lead off today’s entry with a quick thank you to last Smorgasblog’s guide, the lovely Rosie Jones! Gracing the pixels of my

You have big... shoes to fill, Kristin.

blog is always a big thrill for the smoking hot women who have no idea this blog exists. But, for Rosie Jones, something magical has happened since she guided you through my last Smorgasblog. Some time last week, the Revolver started getting over 100 hits a day for no apparent reason. Upon further review, those hits were pouring in because for whatever reason, google is referencing the Revolver when people are googling “rosie jones.” The only explanation is that boobs are in fact the mystical power that the Fellowship of the Ring hoped to harness. In this upcoming part deux of Smorgasblog, Rosie has given way to the Maxim Hometown Hotties 2009 winner, Kristin Gustafson. With the 2010 winner being named soon, Kristin has only a couple months left as the ultimate Hometown Hottie, so giving her this honor may be the last good thing to ever happen in her life. Unless you consider marrying for money a good thing, in which case she will have absolutely no problem finding a rich silver fox who pops Levitra like skittles and smells like cedar, gold bond, and preparation H. In this Smorgasblog you will find commentary on Four Loko, Tony Parker and Unfriend Day.


Take it away, Kristin...

Dish #1: Four Loko

By now, you should have drank it. If you’ve drank it, you’ve loved it. If you’ve loved it too much, you’ve probably blacked out, and removed pieces of clothing en route. Along the way, you undoubtedly cultivated friendships with strangers at the bar, and possibly destroyed relationships that were built upon years of good memories, because you got on a karaoke mic, and outed a friend for cheating on his girlfriend with his hot neighbor from 3B. Unfortunately, all that amazingness is being strapped down and waterboarded by the same people who made Coca-Cola remove the actual cocaine from it… the FDA. Obviously, none of these people ever elected to drink Four Loko on their own and see how it makes them feel. With cautionary reviews of the drink spreading like lice at Woodstock, Four Loko has earned these phenomenal nicknames: “Blackout in a Can” “Liquid Cocaine” “Coke in a Can” “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” “Liquid Roofies” and my personal favorite “Stripper Mixed with Choir Girl Dipped in Paradise Riding a Rainbow Along the Crystal Coast of Bliss” (editor’s note: that last nickname won’t be found on google, until this gets posted to all the internets).

Exactly! Who wouldn’t want to drink that stuff! Well, university officials and state lawmakers, for two. In a maneuver that has become as American as apple pie, the government is once again making up the minds of its people by banning the drink in certain states. First, they decided you could die for the country at 18 but couldn’t drink liquor until 21, and now, when you are 21, you can’t drink a highly caffeinated alcoholic beverage because you might drink too much, and wake up naked in a snowstorm outside your front door with the keys in the doorknob. Thankfully, that last scenario didn’t actually happen to me. Oddly, it’s the first scenario I conjured up stream of consciously. The smorgasblog rolls on! Kristin…

Maxim gets girls shirts unbuttoned as much as Four Loko.

Dish #2: Tony Parker Cheats on Eva Longoria

Wait, you didn’t think a Belgian-born, French basketball player who works in San Antonio could marry a Mexican-American actress who works in Los Angeles, and everything wouldn’t work out? Oh wait, you’re right. Turns out, even though his name and ability to play basketball don’t make him seem French, Tony Parker is in fact le douche of le day. I’m not saying it takes a pathetic Frenchman to cheat on his wife (see: Woods, Tiger), but I am saying it takes a rare form of cold-blooded frog to do so with his teammates wife. Sure enough, after a bit of espionage, Tony was in fact rendezvousing with Erin Barry, the wife of his ex-teammate, Brent Barry (i’ve officially used every french-english word I know).  Sure, Erin’s a milf and all, but Tony really couldn’t keep it in his pants until Eva was done filming her crap TV show? Fortunately, since she’s made her name as a Desperate Housewife Eva should have no problem playing the role of desperate ex-wife, now that she is divorcing Tony. Personally, I always thought Eva could do better than a creepy looking Frenchman with a shaved head and weird scars all over it. Turns out, he always thought he could do better than a smoking hot latin woman who makes millions of dollars. Funny how that works. Kristin…

Kristin would never fall for a Frenchie.

Dish #3: Unfriend Day

Since you didn’t see it live on Jimmy Kimmel, because nobody watches his show, you may not have even read about it on the internet. However, today is apparently “Unfriend Day” on Facebook, in an interesting stunt by Kimmel to be funny. The concept is simple: go on Facebook and unfriend anybody who isn’t actually your friend. Naturally, I am against this day, because I have plenty of people I’m not actually “friends” with who I keep just to see their picture uploads after Halloween and Spring break. This concept is so flawed, I’m not surprised it originated from Kimmel, whose only contribution to the comedy world is the Entourage episode which culminates with Drama triumphantly announcing “Great F*@$ING NIGHT.”

Dish #4: Bill Nye the Science Guy

Any contemporary of mine remembers the amazing scientific feats performed by Bill Nye. We also remember that electro-pop intro music. He’s the first person to teach us how many pennies it takes to break a cup’s meniscus, or that lying on a bed of nails hurts less than lying on one nail due to surface area and pressure. But, In a recent lecture at USC on global warming, Bill Nye suddenly passed out. Unfortunately for Bill, the students in attendance elected not to go help him, but first updated their Facebook and Twitter accounts. When Nye came to he said he “felt like Lady Gaga.” I have no idea wtf that meant, but it doesn’t make it any less awesome. Just not as awesome as Kristin Gustafson.


Thanks for all your hard work in the Smorgasblog, Kristin!

Stay tuned…


Mike Vick: Dog Fighter, Football Player, Freak of Inhuman Nature

November 16, 2010

Wowwww. No, I’m not raving about that this blog title’s alliteration. I’m not even talking about the one word that comes to mind after you’ve been blue-blogged for over a week without my words that bludgeon like a hammer yet slice like a scalpel (much like the hotness of Olivia Wilde). I’m talking about the collective thoughts of football fans, nay, Americans after the display Mike Vick put on last night.

I know it's been a while since the last blog, but don't do anything prematurely, like stop reading.

Unless you’ve been trapped in a mine for the last 4 years, you know all about Mike Vick. He became the ultimate tale of athlete-with-unlimited-potential-who-couldn’t-escape-his-friends. If what happened on Vick’s Virginia estate doesn’t best exemplify the age-old expression “you can take the thug out of his hood, but you can’t take the hood out of the thug” then I don’t know what does. You had a guy who just signed a 10 year $130 million deal, the richest in NFL history. You had a guy with an entire Nike marketing campaign based on the “Mike Vick Experience.” which became a Disney themepark ride.

Unfortunately, you also had a guy whose friends were digging dog graves in his backyard, and electrocuting, drowning and beating pitbulls to death in his basements cement pits. You had a guy who lost all that

This is not how you want your name to appear on an SI cover

money, and that really awesome theme-ride. Above all things, I think the theme-ride is the biggest loss. You know you’re at a new level of awesome when Disney designs a rollercoaster named “The (Insert Name of Awesome Person) Experience.” Yes, I have a new goal for this blog. I also like to think in some fairytale world, Disney saved the ride, and waited for something amazing to happen in Vick’s life.

Last night, Disney may have gotten just that moment. It’s taken almost four years for Mike Vick to absolve himself from his sins. Since I’m a Catholic, and since I don’t particularly like dogs, I have forgiven Vick. In no way does that previous sentence mean I don’t think what he did was inhuman, but really, nothing Vick ever did on a field made me think he was a human. Anyway, on the first play of the game, Vick ran a play-action fake, set his feet, bounced once, patted the ball and rocketed the pigskin with his mesmerizing lefty release over 60 yards in the air to a barely open receiver, who did the easy work from there. ESPN showed the “Drive Summary:” 1 play, 88 yards. TD. I’ve seen longer summaries of Haiku’s on Spark Notes.

All that happened in the rest of the first quarter was Vick rushing for a touchdown using his 4.29 40 speed on the next drive. Then after an interception, Vick threw another, less spectacular, equally frustrating touchdown. After Redskins defenders were as successful at catching Vick as Wile E. Coyote on painkillers, Vick slipped a shovel pass TD to his receiver. By the time Vick got the ball to start the second quarter, his team was winning 28-0.

In between the quarters, a friend texted me saying simply, “Mike. Vick.” I responded with “Amazing.” Three words. Two texts. One brilliant performance… and that was just the first quarter. On the first play of the second quarter, Vick decided he wasn’t done. He threw a 50 yard bomb to a receiver being double covered, to the only place where it could be caught for a touchdown. It was caught for a touchdown, and Mike Vick already had three passing TDs and one rushing. For the rest of the game, the announcers simply laughed while lauding the effort of an athlete we weren’t sure we would ever get to see again.

His final box score line made fantasy owners everywhere pause for a moment of silence. 20-28 for 333 yards and 4 pass TDs. Eight rushes for 80 yards and 2 rush TDs. It was like watching a video game come to life. But even those gaudy numbers don’t do the “Mike Vick Experience” justice. After the game, Vick’s wide receiver DeSean Jackson made the freudian slip of describing his teammates play as that of “pit bulls.” It might be a shame that even on a night where Mike Vick’s talents were on full display, his past can’t escape him. It also might be fitting, because it’s the only thing on a field he can’t escape.

Life is all about learning from mistakes. The first time, you complain about ugly girls at a bar. The next time, you drink more. For Mike Vick, he learned from a mistake most of us can’t fathom. Can’t fathom fighting dogs. Can’t fathom letting our friends leech off of us. Can’t fathom two years in jail. Can’t fathom $130 Million dollars. Can’t fathom having our own rollercoaster ride. Unfortunately for the NFL, they can’t fathom a way to stop Mike Vick now that he’s not behind bars.


The Worst Day of the Year

November 8, 2010

Monday, November 8, 2010 may as well have its name changed to “Vomitous Puss-filled Wart Day” if you live in New England. What’s a vomitous puss-filled wart, you’re wondering? It is simply the myriad forms of weather, light and time zone factors waging war on November 8, 2010 as I type this.

First of all, you will probably hate this post, for the simple fact that there is absolutely nothing to enjoy about November 8, 2010. It is freezing raining out, which may be the most uncomfortable form of the lord’s taint to fall from the sky. It’s a blissful 35 degrees, with these violent whipping winds that can probably knock over any human, aside from a midget, whose center of gravity and girthy legs provide a stable base to prevent tippage. Add to this, that by 4 o’clock, thanks to the clocks being turned back yesterday, it will be pitch black. To top off that shit sundae with a cherry soaked in bile is the fact that it’s Monday!

Here are some quick statistics about November 8, 2010.

-Babies born on this day have a 56% chance of becoming a goth. With a ghastly 82% chance of those babies sucking in general and following any number of other social cliques.

-24% of mothers will have their babies pushed back into the womb to prevent them from being born on November 8, 2010.

-89% of contemplative suicide-candidates will make their decision to just end it right now, thanks to November 8, 2010.

-The 11% of those suicide-candidates remaining actually attempt suicide themselves, but we all know, people who want to commit suicide in the first place aren’t successful in most of life’s great tests.

-The work force will produce roughly 56% less efficiency today, because similar to the first two days of the NCAA basketball tournament, people can’t stop thinking about the fact that they have to enter back outside at some point today in order to get home from November 8, 2010.

-17% of those workers will simply curl into a ball under their desk cubicle and sleep over, as opposed to seeing what November 8, 2010 will be like at night.

-The first smile on November 8, 2010 will be recorded by whoever first reads this blog, which will probably be a supportive family member of mine when they are home from work, around 5 PM.

-Nobody will have intercourse on November 8, 2010, because the risk of conceiving a demon-child is too high. Even promiscuous teenagers with no real concept of contraception and it’s impact know not to mess with November 8, 2010.

So enjoy this wonderful day. If you have come across any additional facts that exemplify why November 8, 2010 is the worst day of the year, leave a comment. Actually, just don’t bother. I don’t even want to create further discourse about this abortion of the Earth completing one full spin around its axis.

PS- Yes, November 8, 2010 is so awful that I will not even post a bikini-clad girl to help you. If November 8, 2010 were a girl, it’d probably be Martina Navratilova, so you wouldn’t have wanted to see that anyway. Google something yourself, I give up.

PPS- I am now late for work due to blogging about November 8, 2010.


Obama Gets Hit By a Bus! Sort of…

November 4, 2010

“Now I’m not recommending for every future president that they take a shellacking like I took last night… I’m sure there are easier ways to learn these lessons.” – Barack Obama: 11/3/10

Much easier, Barack. If only little Malia and Sacha were old enough to be fans of Mean Girls, they could have forced daddy to watch and learn from the downfall of Regina George. Head of the “Plastics,” Regina rises to the top of the “girl world” food chain after strategically positioning friends and enemies against each other. (Yes, I enjoy Mean Girls thoroughly. It’s witty, and entertaining!) The problem with that strategy is, once it all hits the fan, she has nobody left who actually likes her.

Over these past two years, Obama’s policy and actions finally hit the fan. Tuesday night, as Republicans claimed 63 seats in the House and 6 seats

Obama has given that same stare to Pelosi and Reid, I'm not making this up.

in the Senate, with many races still left undecided more than a day later. You can’t tell Republicans that they can come along for the ride, “but they’ve gotta sit in the back of the bus,” (especially if you were white) like Obama did on the campaign trail before last night. You can’t refer to Republicans as the “enemies” of latinos, because they may not want illegal immigrants crossing the borders. Just like Regina got hit by that bus and had her head put in traction for the prom, Obama got hit by a bus and his presidency may be in traction for the next two years. You see, if you’re going to burn bridges, and piss people off for two straight years, you better be right. Tuesday night, the American public let Obama know he’s been more wrong than that time Stevie Wonder got spun around three times and dropped in a corn maze.

To this point in his presidency, Mr. Obama has acted with the arrogance

Sorry, Barack, but you're not in an indestructible suit running off technology yet to be discovered.

of Tony Stark, only he didn’t create the world’s greatest superweapon, and Pepper Potts isn’t his Chief of Staff. Now, it looks like he may actually sit down and speak with Republican leaders. Until Tuesday night’s Dem-debacle,  Obama never once spoke with then-Republican House Minority (now Majority) Leader John Boehner, or Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell about ways they could work together. That chat should be about as awkward as a one-night stand meeting the roommates the next morning. But not quite as awkward as any of Barney Frank’s one night stands.

The fact is, Obama never wanted to sit down and talk with Republicans, but now he’s been forced to. This is similar to a guy who consistently cheats on his girlfriend… until he gets caught. Then he’s sorry. Obama would have kept on pushing his agenda through Congress, if he still had the Congress. Just like that boyfriend would keep cheating on his girlfriend, if he didn’t get caught. People rarely change on their own, and we’ve seen Obama’s true colors. “Bipartisonship” is simply a fancy political word that the president used to get into his office, just like “weonlyhookeduponce” is the fancy word cheating boyfriends use.

One of the reasons I love politics is because they mirror sports. The election season is always filled with ups and downs for candidates, like any sports team. In the end, there is a winner and a loser. After the election, you get to follow how those people act with power. Along the way, you learn everything about the team. Who can’t shoot free throws. Who votes to increase the deficit. Who strikes out on sliders in the dirt. Who votes to pass a health care bill that will send premiums skyrocketing and could bankrupt the country. Who flirts improperly with Spanish sideline reporters. Who has a homosexual relationship with a Fannie Mae exec, thus backing the efforts of that executive as his company helps cripple the country’s economy (that last one is Barney Frank. Scroll back up to the previous end of paragraph joke if you didn’t get it the first time).

Here's the Spanish TV reporter... and you thought I would make you read a whole blog without a hot chick? I know my readership!

The last two years, Obama saw his career rise and fall faster than the Pogs fad. Except, Pogs only cost millions of kids their dignity on the playground, while Obama has cost the country trillions of dollars in debt, and our nation its dignity on a global scale as he goes around calling us “arrogant” and apologizing for our country being so powerful. What he failed to realize is the United States of America has 234 years of exploits and reasons for arrogance. Hopefully, Barack Obama only has two years left.


Tea Party Stirs Midterm Election Night

November 2, 2010

I did it again. In keeping with the personal credo of my Halloween costumes, I chose a current event/issue and dressed as it for the day America overlooks slutty outfits. This idea all started when I dressed as Mark McGwire’s 70th home run ball in 6th grade and won most original costume at my school’s family dance. Damn, were the girls flocking to me THAT night. Since then, amongst other things, I’ve been a Duke lacrosse player, one of Michael Vick’s dogs, the Stock Market, Allen from The Hangover and most recently, the Tea Party. All of those costumes were utter hits, as you can imagine, save for one.

Sunday night, whilst wearing a party hat, button down shirt, necklace of tea, and the Republican elephant symbol, a Jagermeister shot girl came up to my friends and I asking what we all were. She started off on fire. “Lil Wayne, Kanye West, Kenny Powers, a Caveman, Eminem and… uhhh, umm… is it your birthday?!” she asked me. “No, I’m the Tea Party. Get it. Party Hat. Tea. Republican symbol,” I responded. She didn’t get it. “You mean like, the Boston Tea Party?!” At this point I was far more interested in the bucket of alcoholic concoction that was in front of me, so I looked up and asked, “You’re not really a political junkie, are you?” To which she laughed and said, “Nooo, I was an English major. I hate history.” Exasperated, I ended the discourse: “Yes, you’re exactly right. I’m the Boston Tea Party. Now can I get a Jager lanyard or what?”

Sure, I got the lanyard, but there was a larger issue at hand here. An election that stood to shape our country’s future was two days away and this self-proclaimed college-educated Jager shot girl did not know what the Tea Party was. Now aside from the fact that I believe she majored in English about as much as I’d believe four consecutive strippers telling me they are just dancing to get through law school, I realized that this may be a very good thing. But not for Democrat politicians.

Perhaps Shakespeare was more her... cup of tea. Lame pun, FTW!

Flash back two years. “Hope and change!” “Yes we can!” Remember those fun little sayings? Gosh, they sure were neat. I recall them well. My peers came to class dressed in their trendy Obama tees. Street volunteers handed out pamphlets ranging from the plight of the Polar Bear, to mosquito nets in Africa, to why Obama would save America from debt, a crap economy and everyone not having healthcare, like in Europe! It didn’t matter to these leftists that “Europe” would just be called “Germany” if it wasn’t for “America.” To them, the last eight years of George W. Bush meant that America is evil and needs to hug foreign dictators more.

Flash forward to the present. Obama’s approval rating has shifted from 65% approving and 29% disapproving after a month in office, to 45.6% approving and 49.4% disapproving after two years in office. That’s a +36 to a -4. To put it another way, February 2009 Obama was Brooklyn Decker, while present-day Obama is Kelly Osbourne.

Yep. Brooklyn.

Present-day Barack? Is that you?!








Why did Obama get Kelly Osborne ugly, you ask? Partly because our federal deficit has doubled since he stepped into office. Partly because the economic stimulus did nothing to create new jobs, even though fuzzy math by the White House say it sort of did (too bad part-time Census worker jobs don’t come around every year). Partly because the health-care bill that got passed sucks. But mostly, because Obama has done nothing to create much “Hope.”

Sure, there’s been change, only all it did was piss off the largest group of America. The Americans who work hard for their money and would like to keep most of it, not give it to the government to fund failed stimulus bills, expansive health care bills, and legislation that lets illegal aliens live, work, and receive benefits from them. Those angry people formed a party named for the revolutionary act that took place when colonists rose up against the latest tax from King George III. In a way, my Jager shot girl wasn’t completely ignorant after all. The Boston Tea Party was the inspiration for the current Tea Party, sort of.

So here’s why young people not knowing what the Tea Party is becomes a problem for Obama-led Democrats. Because no one who rallied around the current president two years ago seems to even care about these mid-term elections. The man who led the social networking political movement failed to keep the attention of his newest voting group. You see, on the internet, you get your 15 minutes of fame, but usually fail to hold the attention of us over-diagnosed ADD ritalin addicts known as the 18-25 year old age bracket. We’ve got more important stuff to see and do, like watch the ultimate freakout kid on Youtube, and peruse Maxim’s Hot 100.

Arianny Celeste is #23... in case you were wondering.

So now, we get to see the election results tonight. Every single House seat is up for grabs. Thirty-seven Senate and Governor seats are open. The House is almost guaranteed to turn Republican. Which means no more Nancy Pelosi. The Senate should come closer to 50-50, which means no more jamming bills through to Fuhrer Obama. Meanwhile, Obama has become so unpopular that most Democrats did not even want his help in their campaign, as they try to distance themselves from his policy of the past two years. Even the least politically-inclined, like the Jager shot girl, knows that can’t be a good thing.