Friday, March 31, 2006

Bitches in Big Sunglasses...


After returning home from the left coast last week, it is now official: Big Sunglasses are everywhere. We sit on the cusp of an international huge sunglasses crisis. Girls are wearing them to the beach, to the mall, and even to the grocery store... I even saw more than a few pairs at Petco Park at baseball games. The spread of these sunglasses seems to be unstoppable, and something must be done. If your girlfriend owns a pair, smash them. If you have a friend whos a girl, and she wears them out somewhere, smash them. Don't answer the question, "Why did you just smash my fatty glasses?" Simply tell her it is for her own good, and if she knows whats good for her, she should drop the subject.

This onslaught of Bitches in Big Glasses didn't emerge out of the blue. It can be directly traced back to Hollywood starlets, especially the younger generation. You know, the ladies who have little talent outside of their pushup bras. The ones who make every checkout line at the grocery market the source of new celebrity gossip. Magazines like Us and People are to blame for publishing pictures of Linsay Lohan, Nicole Ritchie, and the rest of those girls wearing oversized eyewear in public. It encourages all ladies to wear them, but here's the rub: The girls in the magazine are famous, and perhaps those glasses are more functional than superficial. Maybe the famous girls just want to go a bit incognito...after all it is tough to discern a persons identity when 60% of their face is covered with glass.


(Danny Tanner approved sunglasses)


Regular girls, on the other hand, aren't trying to protect their anonymity...they are trying to be someone else. So to every girl out there who isn't famous, hot or not, please listen up: You look foolish. You can't pull those glasses off, they aren't going to make you famous. You can't possibly think you are that cool or that the glasses look good, so its high time someone knocked you down a peg or two. Stop lying to yourself and just get a normal sized pair of glasses that go over your eyes; you can't possibly need relief from the sun on your cheeks, eyebrows, and ears too. I hope someone famous takes it up a bit and wears those huge novelty glasses...I bet you mindless bitches follow suit. I'm not hating, I'm just being honest. Stop wearing Huge Sunglasses!!!

Traffic

Dear Traffic,

I fucking hate you. You make me late for work in the morning, and you delay my arrival home at night. Your reasons for existence continue to befuddle me. Outside of a car accident, I cannot understand what causes you. Something must be done. Your insistent persistence makes you as welcome as Gilbert Godfried in a library. When you cause a Jam, the reasons for it remain a mystery...that is until I start to speed up and realize there is was no logical reason at all. Humans contribute to you as well. Rubberneckers slowing down to get a view of a car wreck. Commuters driving 65 mph who slam on their brakes everytime a cop drives by. Speed traps set up by lazy cops with nothing better to do than pick off people trying to get home on a Friday night. These are all reasons that contribute to Traffic.

However, there is one other cause for traffic that I will not tolerate: Road construction during the day. See, here is where the line between most drivers and the state of Massachusetts is blurred. The state, it seems, is not fluid in the language of LOGIC. For instance, is it LOGICAL to have three state cops in squad cars, lights and all, block off 2 lanes of a 3 lane highway while two Mass. Highway Dept. trucks carry signs with lighted arrows moving people into one lane, so that another truck called a Pothole Medic can fill potholes in the vacant lanes of the highway? At 9am on a Friday, near where two major highways merge into each other and head into Boston? Traffic, are you in cahoots with the state of Massachusetts? Are they helping you form and purposely contributing your your growth and sustenance? I hope its not true, but I think I already know the answer.

This seems like a conspiracy to me Traffic. I don't know who the ringleader is, you or the state, but I want answers. For instance, why not fill potholes at 3am when traffic is reduce by about 90% compared to the morning. Why can't police and utility vehicles shut off their flashing, distracting lights when they aren't needed? Are speed traps really necessary? If five people drive by a cop in a speed trap going 90mph, you can't ticket all five, so do you just pick one sorry loser at random? Can you explain why when the weather is better, when it is lighter outside, traffic is worse? All of these things contribute to you, Traffic. You are the effect brought about by a cause. The cause is brought about by state workers and police. The REASONS behind the cause? That I cannot answer. Perhaps police detail work pays better during daytime hours. Or maybe police don't like working in the middle of the night.

Whatever the case, Traffic, I implore you...ease up. You will always be there, and when there is a logical reason, you won't hear this guy complain. However, you must put an end to the unnecessary stoppages and delays. Many people caught in traffic are trying to get somewhere they need to be. Depending on the degree of urgency, that can lead to more traffic, more accidents, and the dreaded case of Road Rage. I realize drivers contribute the problem, but on a clear, distraction-free road, we'll figure it out. Please talk to your friends from the state and figure this out... or sooner or later the Pothole Medic is going to need an ambulance.

Sincizzerely Yizzours,

A. D. Orio

(A Blood Bath Waiting to Happen)

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Death Becomes You...


Have you ever had the feeling that you were been followed? Like something wasn't right, but you couldn't quite place your finger on it? If you have, then you know how this young man felt on a recent vacation to California. My name is Death...you may have heard of me. You definately have never seen me, but I assure you: One day we will meet face to face, and you will know who I am. After centuries of secrecy, I have decided to share my story with The Wide, Wide World of Sports for many reasons, none of which concern you. It will serve your purposes to know that I visit this site every weekday, and I enjoy what I read. It makes me laugh, and coming from Death, thats a huge compliment. Luckily for all of us, the editor doesn't have an appointment with me until 2065, on the corner of Stetson and Crompton Ave. Anyway, I have provided a link to the photo album of my vacation at the bottom of this page. Unfortunately, the person in the pictures still walks the Earth. He was one of the lucky few who have eluded me. In the media I generally get a bad reputation. It is for that reason I have decided to publicly display my mercy to the world, using this man as an example. Along with being named "Death" comes many negative connotations and feelings towards me. I just want to depict the reality of what its like to wander in between dimensions, transporting the Souls of the Dead.

The man in this picture (we'll call him Gerald Porter to protect his real identity,) was visiting San Diego on vacation. Originally I was supposed to Soul Suck him back on March 18th, which was a Saturday if my memory serves me correctly. As you can see in the pictures, his soul was mine for the taking anytime I wanted it. He was oblivious to the fact that death was on his doorstep. If it were a sunny day, I probably would have finished him off immediately(I have very pale skin and burn easily.) As it turns out, it was an overcast day, a day that Porter spent on Coronado Island, a beautiful slab of land in San Diego's bay. Yes, Death said something was beautiful, don't act surprised. Just because I separate Body's from Souls doesn't mean I can't appreciate the beauty of nature. Just because I turn body frames to blue fog doesn't mean I don't enjoy a cocktail and a sunset. These are the sort of misconceptions I am here to disprove.

Death doesn't just deal with death. My name describes me quite well, but that isn't all I am. I like to think I am more than just the Ender of Lives; I want to be more than that. Look at it this way: If you're an accountant on vacation, are you still an accountant? Of course you are, but you don't do much accounting while your vacationing I'm sure. I wasn't officially on vacation, but when you are sent to a place like that for work, you tend to be a bit more liberal with the company credit card, if you catch my drift. I simply wanted to enjoy the afternoon before I ended his life. Is that so bad?

Normally, if I am in a dreary city or run-down town, I will do my job quickly and move on to the next one. This time was different because of the location, but it was also different for another reason. I have found over the years that when people are being stalked by Death (me), they are always looking over their shoulder; they feel cold, and have a strong sense of impending doom. Mr. Porter, however, must not have fully developed his 7th "Death" sense. Everytime I was near him, he just kept on smiling. This was no ordinary soul, that was for sure. As much as I hated to do it, I needed to put in a call to home base.

Wait...You think I'm about to tell you where Death lays his sickle down at night...Where he rests his bones? Or who he takes orders from? Hey, I'm hear to make people sympathetic to my existence, not destroy it. If I give out the location of my work, there may be a theme park built there within two years. It will be good enough for you to know that the man I work for is omnipotent, which means he knows what you are thinking as you read this. He is the one who decides who goes and when... I simply get the soul he wants and bring it back to him, no questions asked. However, for the first time since I took over for my old pal Plague in the middle ages, I felt myself second guessing orders. One thing about this job is the finality of it; once I make my move, it cannot be undone...you don't want to be making mistakes with souls.

I had to place a call to the boss, and its a good thing I did. Turns out that Mr. Porter was in fact on my list, but he was 'Untouchable.' In all my years, I have come across maybe a dozen of these 'Untouchables.' The reasons for their untouchablility vary, but the name is fitting because Death cannot touch them. I have an Untouchable List, but encounter one so rarely I don't bother staying up to date on it. Although I will never know the reasons why Porter is untouchable, I must adhere to the rules. Porter's time will come someday, even if he is untouchable to me now, he will not always stay that way. I have always been able to have second meetings with Untouchables later in their lives, and I always get my soul in the end. I have a little saying about such incidences: "Escape me once and enjoy the time/ The next time we meet your Soul is Mine."

I took many pictures during my vacation, some of which I have included HERE. I wanted to show how close I can get to you before I take your soul. I want everyone out there to realize that I can get you, no matter where you are or what you are doing (unless you are Untouchable of course). I also want you all to realize how lonely this job is. Nobody can see me, nobody can hear me, no one can touch me. I have no one to talk to. I exist in this vacuum of lonliness every day, and while I am rejuvinated by every soul i extinguish, I wish I had some company doing it.

I hope this inside look into Death gave you a little perspective on me. Every set of eyes that read my words has a soul behind it. Every soul must die, and it is my job to make sure it does done the right way. The nature of my job is unfortunate, but I am not a bad guy. Think of me as an usher for Souls. The main difference is while the ushers you know help you find your seat, I help your soul find its end. Its just business baby...nothing personal.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

2006 Boston Red Sox Preview

With Opening Day less than a week away, its time for the Wide, Wide World of Sports to preview the upcoming baseball season. More specifically, the hometown Boston Red Sox. The Sox open up on the road against Texas next Monday, April 3rd. This year's squad really won't bear much resemblance to the 2004 World Championship team or last years successful, but ultimately disappointing team. There are many new faces on the roster, and many of the fan favorites of years past have moved on. Before we get into the lineup and rotation, lets take a look at the additions and subtractions.

The first noticable thing about the Sox roster this year is who's not on it. Kevin Millar, Doug Mirabelli, Bronson Arroyo, Bill Mueller, and of course, Johnny Damon, all play for different teams now. Every one of those players were important to the Sox recent success, and in general they will all be missed. Unfortunately we have to see Damon in pinstripes about 20 times a year, but that is another story for another day. The new additions to the lineup include Coco Crisp, Mark Loretta, Mike Lowell, Josh Beckett, Dave Riske, Julian Tavarez, Rudy Saenez, Josh Bard, J.T. Snow, and Wily Mo Pena...I think thats everyone. Damn thats alot of turnover from one season to the next. Anyway, now you know who is here and who is gone. Now lets see who will be missed, and who won't.




(Coco Crisp w/ Milk)


Here is my starting lineup for the 2006 Red Sox, along with my predictions for their stats this year, and a little extra something they bring to the table:

Position Name Avg./HR/RBI (Important Attribute)
1. CF Coco Crisp .315/20/84 - Speed
2. 2B Mark Loretta .320/15/85 -Doubles
3. DH David Ortiz .302/50/148 -Clutch
4. LF Manny Ramirez .312/44/145 -Manny
5. RF Trot Nixon .282/22/87 -Attitude
6. C Jason Varitek .280/16/77 -Consistency
7. 3B Mike Lowell .270/18/75 -Questions
8. 1B Kevin Youklis .300/12/66 -On Base %
9. SS Alex Gonzalez .255/15/60 -Web Gems
The lineup this year should still be really, really good. Anytime you have David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez hitting back to back, you aren't going to be starved for runs. Coco Crisp is going to make people forget about Johnny Damon. Crisp is 26, and coming off a year that saw him increase average, home runs, and total bases. He is fast and has quick hands and some good power, along with the speed to be a menace once on base. He hit better last year as a #2 hitter, but he should be comfortable in front of all the big bats that Cleveland didn't have last year. Mark Loretta came over from San Diego, and he could be one of the steals of the offseason. He is solid in the field, and he has shown he can be a dominant hitter in the majors. Last year his numbers were way down due to a thumb injury, but in 2004 he hit .335 with 47 doubles. If he and Crisp hit over .300 in Boston, the rest of the league is in trouble because...David Ortiz is next in the order. I'm sure I don't need to talk about Ortiz much. Last year he was easily the MVP of the league, but because he doesn't play the field, the baseball writers didn't feel he was deserving. He is the most clutch hitter in the game, and his presence in the lineup will force pitchers to throw better pitches to the first two batters (pitchers don't want to walk two guys before Ortiz and Ramirez come up.) Manny bats after Ortiz, and together they form one of the best hitting duos in the league. Manny has hit over 30 HRs 10 of 11 seasons, had over 100 RBI 10 of 11 seasons, and failed to hit .300 just twice in his career, when he hit .294 and .292. The top four hitters in the Red Sox lineup figure to be just as potent as ever.
Let's take a look at the rest of the lineup. Against right handed pitchers, Trot Nixon will be getting the start in RF, batting 5th (Wily Mo will play vs. LHP). When he is healthy, Trot is capable of a .300/30/100 season. The last two seasons, Trot has been injured often, missing most of 2004 and about a quarter of the 2005 season. This spring Trot has been hitting well, and is supposed to be in very good shape, so I look for him to do well this season. Varitek is up next, and while he is pricelessly valuable to the pitching staff, he has the bat to go along with it. 'Tek is a switch hitter with power from both sides. He is a bit streaky, but catchers notoriously are due to the rigors of their positions. All signs point to VTek having another solid year at the plate and behind it. Next up is the enigma, Mike Lowell. Lowell was a necessary aquisition in the Josh Beckett trade due to his $9 million salary. Last year he was horrible at the plate, but won a Gold Glove. He is a .272 career hitter, but does have power. He is capable of hitting 30 HRs. The problem is that if he gets off to a slow start, Boston fans won't ease up on him. If he comes out the gate hitting, look for a good season. If not, he could be gone by June. Rounding out the lineup are Kevin Youklis and Alex Gonzalez. Gonzalez was aquired for his defense. He is one of the best defensive short stops around. Think of him as Orlando Cabrera, with more power but a lesser average. Youk is finally going to get a chance to play, and he deserves it. He could hit second in this lineup no problem, as he is adept at getting on base and making pitchers work. He will be platooning with J.T. Snow, which could hurt his numbers, but I believe he will get many rallies started at the bottom of the lineup.

Bench:

OF Wily Mo Pena
OF Adam Stern (Willie Harris)
IF Alex Cora
IF J.T. Snow
C Josh Bard

The Sox bench should be really good this year. Each player on it is capable of playing everyday in the majors. I will start with Wily Mo Pena. This beast is only 24 years old, and even though he strikes out a lot, he has tremendous power. He was aquired for Bronson Arroyo, and while I think the Sox fucked him over, he knew it was a possibility. Also, anyone named after Charles Bronson is ok in my book. Pena will most likely platoon with Trot, and hit against lefties, who he demolished last season. Even if he doesn't get to play much this year, he is an asset to the Sox future. The other outfielder is Adam Stern, who starred for Team Canada in the WBC. Stern can hit for average, field and run. He is a great guy for the bench. I put Willie Harris in parentheses because he is similar to Stern, but can play IF as well, and will be an option down the road depending on injuries, etc. Snow and Bard are strictly backups, with Snow filling the Olerud/Doug M. role this year, and Bard catching Wakefield and backing up VTek. Alex Cora is a whiz with the glove, can play the middle infield, and I believe could have a solid stick if he got playing time. Now that you know about the Sox fielders, lets look at the pitchers.

Starting Rotation

1. Curt Schilling
2. Josh Beckett
3. Tim Wakefield
4. Matt Clement
5. David Wells

The Red Sox pitching staff, barring injuries, will be one of the best in the majors. That barring injuries part is the tough part, as the staff consists of 3 old men, a head case, and a young stud who can't keep off the DL due to blisters. I'm an optimistic Sox fan, so lets pretend there won't be much breakdown of the staff. We all know what Schilling can do when he is healthy. He has been working on pitching inside this spring, and if he can do that it can really help him. Beckett could end up being the ace of the staff. Most remember him for beating the Yankees in the World Series in 2003, or for dating Alyssa Milano. But Beckett has been on the cusp of his breakout year since the World Series. Every year he gets blisters that, while it may sound whimpy, makes it tougher for him to pitch and get movement on his pitches. If he stays healthy, he could approach 20 wins. Wakefield could pitch forever since he is basically playing catch when he throws. Over the past 4 years or so, he has really mastered the knuckle ball. Most importantly he can adjust when he loses control of it, and avoid prolonged slumps. The only question is how the departure of Mirabelli will effect him. Clement will follow Wake, and this year I think Clement will play well for both halves of the season. Last year he was an all-star in the first half, and an all-star piece of shit in the second half. He was firebombed by the White Sox in the first game of the playoffs last season, setting the tone for the Sox to get swept. This year he says he feels comfortable, and I hope he is. Rounding out the staff is David "I Can't Just Play without Talking Shit" Wells. Look, if Wells stays out of trouble and wants to play, he will win 15 again. If not, he will be shipped out of town. I like Wells, but enough is enough. Just play or retire, we aren't trading you.

Bullpen

Lenny DiNardo
Dave Riske
Julian Tavarez
Rudy Saenez
Mike Timlin
Jon Papelbon
Keith Foulke

The Sox bullpen depends a lot of Keith Foulke. If he can return to his 2004 form, or something close to it, the Sox are going to be really tough to beat. Timlin and Papelbon will be used as setup men, and both guys will be really good. Papelbon is basically a rookie, and he can move into the rotation if one of the starters gets hurt. He is young, and eventually will be a fulltime starter. Tavarez is a fucking mental case, and he looks like he went bobbing for french fries. But he is a quality pitcher who has played in big games for good teams. I don't know much about Saenez or Riske. Saenez had a good year last year, and Riske came over with Coco Crisp. DiNardo will be a long reliever and spot starter.



(Jonathan "Don't Call me Jon" Papelbon)


So there you have it, a run down of the 2006 Boston Red Sox as we start the season. I have a good feeling about this year. The defense and offense should be stellar, and if they can avoid injuries, the Sox have a good chance to be playing for the title again. I am looking forward to seeing the new aquisitions play and how they adjust to playing in Boston. I predict that Coco Crisp will become a fan favorite at Fenway immediately, as will Josh Beckett. Manny could be in line for a monster year, and I think Ortiz will finally get his MVP. Overall, I predict the Sox will finish with 96 wins, and even if they don't win the A.L. East, they will make the playoffs. This is shaping up to be either a great season with a lot of wins, or a long season full of bullshit and controversy. PLEASE don't ruin my summer with that shit BoSox...how bout you just win?

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Just Running My Mouth


-Yesterday the NFL made some news, announcing part of their schedule for nationally televised games as well as announcing that their competition committee is going to do something to curtail touchdown celebrations. On Sportscenter last night this was one of the top news stories of the day, followed promptly by commercials for ESPN's Monday Night Games...IN SEPTEMBER. ESPN you have got to be fucking kidding me. This little indescretion was more distracting than Stuart Scott's eye. How dare you, ESPN, subject me to commercials for football games on your network that won't take place for more than 5 months? I keep hoping for something, anything, to deter my wave of hatred against your station. Instead you are turning it into a tsunami. For a visual description of my hatred for ESPN, these commercials are like the tide pulling back into the ocean, right before the tsunami hits. This was the straw that broke Chris Berman's back. I am coming for you soon ESPN, guns blazing...I just hope you are ready for it.

-As far as the touchdown celebrations go, I'd like to say this to the NFL: Stop taking yourself so seriously. Why are you going to punish guys for celebrating? I understand it if someone like Terrell Owens runs to the middle of the oppositions field, spikes the ball and mocks the entire organization. But what about Chad Johnson keeping it classy, busting out a Riverdance, putting with a pylon, or handing out Christmas presents like Santa Claus? Now you may be wondering, what does the NFL's Competition Committee deem acceptable celebration behavior? Players can spike the ball, spin it on the ground, and even dunk it over the goalpost without fear of a penalty! That is unless the aformentioned items are done with a group or for a prolonged period of time. Also, you can't celebrate on the ground, or use any props in the celebration. Sadly, the NFL is cracking down on an overall problem based on the actions of a few. Luckily for the rest of us, the best endzone celebrator in the league, Chad Johnson, isn't concerned: "Of course you cannot stop someone as creative as me. How can this bother someone as creative as me? Tell the competition committee that Chad said you can't cover 85, and there's no way you can stop him from entertaining."

-One more highlight from the NFL's schedule announcement is this so-called "Manning Bowl," the first time in history that brothers will quarterback opposing teams in the same game. Excuse me for not caring. Peyton Mannrino has never won a big game in his life, and his brother Eli is further away from a Super Bowl than his brother. Wake me up when these two are playing for the Super Bowl...until then, my only hope is that this is the first game in history when two brothers share an ambulance.

-Recently there has been a lot of news about immigration laws in the United States. The U.S. wants to enforce their borders better and make sure that illegal immigrants do not enter the United States unaccounted for...pretty good policy I think, considering how many enemies the U.S. has. In Los Angeles on Saturday, a protest against the bill took place. Over 500,000 people showed up to support illegal immigrants, even going as far as demanding amnesty for the estimated 12 million illegal immigrants in this country. Far be it from me to argue domestic policy with people who aren't U.S. citizens, but if you are an ILLEGAL immigrant, doesn't that mean that its illegal for you to be in this country? What right do you have to protest, nevermind go out in public during the day. Bush could have ordered all the buses from Katrina over to Los Angeles, and probably 80% of that crowd could have been deported. How do you have a rally in your country that features roughly 5% of an illegal population? Out of the 12 million illegal immigrants, 500,000 show up to try and convince the government to allow them to stay? Only in America people...only in America.


(How many Mexicans does it take...)


At least the Mexicans at the rally had things in perspective. A Mexican rapper had this to say: "We construct your schools. We cook your food. We are the motor of this nation, but people don't see us. Blacks and whites, they had their revolution. They had their Martin Luther King. Now it is time for us." More incredulous words have never been spoken. According to this guy, Mexicans are responsible for your kids being able to attend school. Also, your kids wouldn't eat if it weren't for Mexicans. And finally, white people had to revolt (against who?) and according to him, Mexicans are about to do the same. There is one main sticking point that is being missed by the masses. YOU ARE ALL HERE ILLEGALLY. Whether they crossed the border in someone's trunk, or floated here on a door, of even said 'Fuck It' and jumped the razorwire border fence, the bottom line is that they are here illegally. Everyone in America has at least a distant relative who immigrated here. I do not believe that all immigrants should leave the country. I am simply stating that there are laws in the U.S., and just because you got here illegally doesn't mean you get to stay. If I break into someone's house, I don't get to stay there because I'm already there.

If you are here illegally, you don't have any of the rights that U.S. citizens have. Amnesty? You better watch your mouth. It seems that the Mexicans only supporting evidence to back their claim to citizenship is that they work manual labor jobs. "Enough is enough of the xenophobic movement," said some doosh from Honduras. "They are picking on the weakest link in society, which has built this country." Jesus, I am starting to see a trend. Let's read one more quote: "When did you ever see a Mexican blow up the World Trade Center? Who do you think built the World Trade Center?" Whoever said this should be taken immediately from this country. According to illegal Mexican immigrants, they are the only ones that have built buildings in this country. Without their willingness to work long hours for short change, nothing in America would be built. We would all live in thatched huts built by, you guessed it, Mexicans. Have you seen a white guy blow up the WTC you fucking moron? The only people who ever have or ever will blow up the WTC is militant Muslims; its impossible for anyone else to do it again. Its not a white man's fault that I have to go to the airport two and half hours before my flight, take off my sweatshirt and shoes, and go through more metal detectors than a bum on the beach...but we do it to enjoy the freedoms alotted to us by being U.S. citizens. If you want to live in the U.S., there are certainly legal ways to do it. Don't start grasping at the wind here because your uncle and cousins have to go back to Mexico. If you are an immigrant here, you're just like me: a U.S. citizen. But if you are here illegally, do me a favor and head home, then come back and do it the right way. In the end, you're gonna get burnt because America doesn't owe you shit.

(We sure would Lady)


-In this year's poll of FHM readers, the magazine has named its "100 Sexiest Women in the World." This year's #1 lady? Scarlett Johansson. Personally, I think this is a good choice. Usually the person on the top of the list is whichever sexy lady in Hollywood is causing the most scandalous commotion at the time: Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Lopez, or that ugly bitch who used to be hot...uh whats her name..shit i forget she couldn't sing, is white trash..ummm...o ya Britney Spears. Scarlett Johansson is not only beautiful, she is a good actress and seems a bit classier than your usual suspects. Congrats to you for being someone people can look at without wondering who she is banging, if she has real tits, or if she is coked out of her mind.




(God Damn!)


This being said, lets take a walk through the Top 10 and see who's who. Coming in at number 2 is Angelina Jolie. This is a pick I guess I can accept, even though I am beyond sick of hearing about her. A little advice: stop collecting kids. You look like an idiot going through third world villages and scooping up kids you want to own...I mean raise. It doesn't endear you to a list of hottest women in the world...although I'm sure thats not why you are starting an adoption center in your home. Jessica Alba is at #3. She could have attained this spot simply based on her performance in Sin City. Good lord she is sexy. Its worth mentioning that if there was a list of the 100 Worst Actresses Who Still Get Jobs, she would occupy the same spot. #4 is Jessica Simpson. Don't get me wrong, she is ridiculously hot in Dukes of Hazzard. But her hotness must pay the price for her Pizza Hut commercials, for butchering a perfectly good Nancy Sinatra song, and for being possibly the dumbest 25 year old on Planet Earth. The Top 5 is rounded out by Keira Knightley, and I'm happy with that pick. She is gorgeous, and she has a British accent. After seeing Domino, I would definately say she is in the top 5.


(I Said God Damn!)


At #6 we have Halle Berry. Is anyone going to argue that she should be on this list? I have gotten sun spots in my eyes from looking at her before. Number 7 is Jenny McCarthy, and while I won't find many to say she isn't hot, I think all her nose picking and un-funny comedy have caught up with me. Quit being gross and just be hot!!! You aren't funny so stop it, sit there, and look pretty!!! Number 8 is Maria Sharapova, a tennis player with legs for days. She is beautiful, and unlike other hot tennis players, she has actually won something. She's also pretty young so I will end it right there. At 9 is Carmen Electra. Look, she is hot, but she has no other marketable talents. Let's just leave her in Playboy and find someone else to include next year...enough is enough. Finally, we get to Teri Hatcher. She is, I believe, the oldest one on the list, but not many age as gracefully as her. She is still beautiful, and it helps that she has that amazing rack...really helps actually. That's the top 10 in a nutshell...go read the magazine if you want to see the rest.

Looking back over the list, I would say it is pretty good. I would have taken a few of the ladies off and replaced them with others, but to each his own. Salma Hayek should be on there without a doubt. However, when you are dealing with women this hot, you can't really complain.

Monday, March 27, 2006

What in the Wide, Wide Weekend?

As usual, I had a boring weekend, devoid of any event of special relevance. I did however leave my house, giving me more than enough ammunition for today.

-I went to Walmart last night in search of a few household items-toilet paper, trash bags, batteries and Gatorade. I go there when I need this or that because its monopolized pricing leads to good deals, but that doesn't mean I like going there. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy than in Fairhaven Walmart...on second thought maybe its just Walmart in general. Anyway, I was trying to find the t.p. when I heard a woman talking on her cell phone. Maybe you haven't encountered a fat Portuguese woman in your life, but I know I have. Generally they are loud, obnoxious, and try to make sure everyone hears what they are saying. I'm sure the whole store could hear her based on the volume of her voice, but it wasn't the loudness of this woman that bothered me... it was her language.
Far be it from me to chastize someone over their vocabulary, but in a crowded store, at 6pm on a Sunday night I think this woman could have toned it down. I know its tough, based on who you are and where you live, but try to exercise a little bit of tact. I'm sure I wasn't the only one impressed by the myriad ways she employed the word 'asshole,' but if I had been with a younger person I would have felt inclined to say something to her. To quote, "Ya, she's an asshole. What an asshole. I told her that, she knows what an asshole I think she is. I'm the supervisor, you're an asshole if I say you're an asshole. Not you, her. She's the asshole. You did nothing wrong." Wow lady, now everyone in the store knows your a supervisor. Couldn't save that tirade for the ride home? I hope we have some sort of natural disaster soon...its going to be a shame to see the downfall of society caused by people like this asshole.

-Today I got a $185 speeding ticket on the way to work. What a great way to start the week. Normally, if I had gotten pulled over for speeding I would not deny my infractions. But this cop had such a hard-on for giving me a ticket that I will appeal it to the fullest extent of my rights as a citizen of this ever-declining country we live in. I was driving towards the highway, down a road with two lanes on either side. Apparently the 'cop' was driving the other direction, whipped the car around because it was such an emergency that he had to give me a ticket, and came up behind me. I didn't see him go by, and proceeded to pull into the gas station as planned. I pulled up to the station, and the cop pulled in behind me, blocking paying customers from buying gas. He never put his lights so I had no idea he was about to give me a ticket. Then I hear, "Do you know why I pulled you over?" Who, me? What? Then, when I looked surprised, he goes, "Ya you thought you could get away from me by swerving into this gas station didn't you?" "No, sorry I was getting gas because my the arrow on my tank is pointing towards 'E.'" Then he says, "Liscense and registration. Where are you going?" Does this question have any relevance to my alleged speeding? Cops LOVE that they can pull you over and ask you these sorts of questions...it makes them feel like they have some sort of power.
This all took place while I was getting my gas tank filled mind you. A line has started to form behind one of Marion's Finest. The attendant is asking what crime I committed. Then the smell of Bacon fills the air, and I know the cop is on the way back. "I wrote ya up for those things we talked about before. Have a nice day." Have a nice day? A nice day? You just ruined my day Fuck-O. If I got a ticket, I was expecting one around $100...not $185. That is preposterous. And unlike that cop, I can't put in for some bullshit detail work that pays me $40 an hour for waving cars past the Verizon guy who is working on the phone lines. There will be an appeal, tough-guy officer "CHP" who can't even write his full name on the ticket...O yes, there will be an appeal. If I do not find retribution for this heinous crime against ME I will take it to an actual court. I am prepared to do what must be done to overturn this cops petty actions, and return balance to my universe. Get ready Marion...the dogs of war are making noise, and are about to be unchained.

-This weekend I saw V for Vendetta. I liked the movie a lot, and its hard not to draw parallels between the London of 2020 and the United States today. Of course the movie is a bit on the extreme side, but the basic ideas and principles behind what goes on in the movie are perfectly plausible given the economical and political climate of the present day. The main point of the movie that I feel is closest to the truth in this country is that most of our citizens just sit back and go along for the ride. In the movie, the government controls everything: music, literature, the news...everything. The government is controlled by one man, who employs many men to keep the country under his command. For instance, a man is killed just for having a copy of the Qu'ran, which he must keep in a secret room so nobody finds out(they obviously find it.) The newscasters are fed lies by the government, and even though the public knows they are lying, it keeps going on. I believe the story is intended to inspire us to action, much like V's speech in the movie. Problem is, we don't have a "V" in real life; there is no person who is going to stand up and fight the government.
So in the final analysis, the only tangible gift bestowed upon us by V for Vendetta is Natalie Portman. I'm smitten. She just keeps getting hotter and hotter. Hollywood, listen up: put Natalie Portman in a movie, and I will buy a ticket. Unless its something like "Little Women," then i will have to pass. But go see V for Vendetta...it will give you a lot to think about....and look at.

-It's time to come clean about something. I sing in the car. That by itself wouldn't make me much different from any other sorry sap driving to work in the morning. The difference for me is that I sing along to rap songs...so I rap along to ghetto-ass music on the way to work. Me, a white kid from Rochester, MA, listening to songs that would make your grandmother feint before the hook hits. Songs so hardcore and raw that I sometimes have trouble playing them at an audible level for fear of retaliation from people outside my vehicle. My one hope is that whoever sees me rapping in the car can't read lips. If they can read lips, it would be better for everyone involved if that person wasn't black. By its nature, rapping along with the words of songs could be very offensive to some; especially when its a white dude saying words that white people shouldn't ever say. I obviously don't mean to offend anyone, but those are the lyrics right, so what am I to do?
For the record, I am not listening to Marky Mark or the Fresh Prince. I consider myself somewhat of a rap aficionado, and with that claim comes the truth: I listen to hardcore rap. East, West, South, Old, New... it doesn't matter. If its good I'm listening to it. Just to give you all a visual of what I'm talking about, I wanted to include the last song I learned the words to. I learned it during the ride to work one day, by rewinding the verse and replaying it until I got it right. While you read the words, picture who's mouth they were coming out of, and you will have some idea of how intense my car ride to work is. So without further ado, here are the words spoken by myself, but written and recited by Kurupt Young Gotti.
(Kurupt talking)
YEAH! Gangsta shit. YEEAAH. Kurupt Young Gotti, Daz Dillinger, Jayo, What up Face...Fuck these bitches and all these punk ass nigga's out this mothafucka nigga, they ain't talkin bout shit...
(Kurupt)
The chronical, psychosis, brain bender busta/Fucker, sucka ass punk mothafuckas/Tommy the talent tucker, calico consealer/Daz the real dealer, mothafuckin busta killer/Facin all you nigga's, Scarface nigga/Chase, erase, replace and waste nigga's/Shake, crack, and brake, no mistake nigga/Fuck em, stick em, stuck em, Chucks laced nigga/Fat laces nigga, blue fat laces nigga/Me and the homie's all on paper chase nigga.

I don't endorse what he's saying, or even understand half of it, but it sure does sound good. So the next time you drive past me, or anyone else for that matter, singing along to a rap song, don't hate. Just realize that the person is doing the same thing as you are, which is singing along to their favorite songs.

Friday, March 24, 2006

The World Baseball Classic



This week hasn't been good as far as me writing. Starting Monday I will be back in full force, with daily updates. Today I want to close out my trip to California with a little something about the World Baseball Classic. For those of you that don't know, it is an international baseball tournament, and this year was the first year it was held. I was there for the semifinals as well as the finals, so with a first-hand account...here I go.

The World Baseball Classic. It started March 3rd around the world in places like Puerto Rico and Hong Kong, and finished up March 20th in San Diego. I don't feel the need to describe the format or rules. In fact, the only thing that matters to this story is what teams made it; and which team did not. The teams in the finals were the Dominican Republic, Cuba, Japan, and Korea. The United States team did not make it to the semifinals, even though they had numerous chances...more on that later. The semifinals took place on Saturday, with the tournament finishing up Monday night at 6pm. My friends and I bought tickets to all three games. Our seats were up in right field, but for $25 per game what do you expect?

Saturday was supposed to be a full day of baseball for us, but it didn't end up that way. We watched Cuba beat the Dominican 3-1 in the first game, which felt like it went on forever. The Dominican was the favorite going into the tournament, but their fearsome lineup didn't do much in the semis. I was fully expecting David Ortiz to tie it when he came up in the 8th, but he just missed his pitch and popped up. The second game was at night, but in between we went to Rock Bottom, which is a brewery/restaurant that we have in Boston as well. When we emerged from the bar shortly before first pitch, it was pouring rain. Our seats were situated so that if it was raining, we would be the first to know...so we decided to skip the game. We took cover under an overhang, where we heard a live band playing Creedence Clearwater Revival. I wanted to go, but was outvoted and we returned to the hotel.

Saturday at Petco Park left much to be desired. The game we saw was slow, and we missed the second game. Petco was great though; spacious, clean, $8 beers...it had the works. There is a great little diamond behind home plate, with some grass for people to watch from. During the Cuba-D.R. game, I took a tour of the place with one of my friends, and we ended up in a pocket of Dominican fans during their run scoring rally, so that was exciting. The championship game, however, was a different beast altogether. We started it out at Padres Pizza before the game, where my friend got two slices and a soda for $11. Ouch. When we got into the stadium, the vibe was definately different than it had been on Saturday. Right then I knew we were in for something special. The place was alive, and there were many Cuba and Japan flags being waved in the air.

Asian fans not only know baseball, they know how to support their team. I was shocked at how they were acting, chanting player names I could only dream of pronouncing. Unlike a major league game, the cheering wasn't confined to late inning rallys or home runs; these people didn't really stop cheering. The other thing is that they only cheered, no jeering. No "Fuck you Cuba" or "Cuba Sucks." Just good old fashion support for their team, which happened to be representing their country. Japanese and Cuban fans have one thing that I would say 10% of people in the U.S. have; National Pride. These people rose and fell on every pitch, going back and forth in a positive way. While Japan held the lead, Cuba never gave up, and by the top of the 9th the game had worked itself into a 6-5 classic. Yet Cuba could not hold on. The incredible Ichiro padded Japan's lead with an RBI single, and by the end of the top of the 9th, the score stood at 10-6. Japan finally had a hard earned victory, which led them to the championship in the innaugural World Baseball Classic.



One noticable aspect of the games was the brand of baseball being played. I have never seen a team of players so fundamentally sound in my life. Every player in that game played the right way, and it showed. The game wasn't who could hit the most HR's, which is what many games in the majors devolve into. No, there were bunts and steals, outfielders and catchers backing up throws, and the teams were constantly trying to manufacture runs. When was the last time you saw a MLB team attempt to bunt for a base hit in the midst of a rally? I definately have never seen so many attempts to bunt for a basehit in my life. Oh, and the Cuban outfielders have CANNON arms. Plays that shouldn't have been close ended up being real close. I was amazed. To watch a major league quality game devoid of big name players and bloated salaries really made the entire experience worthwhile. These players weren't playing for a paycheck (and a lot of them could use one,) they were playing for themselves, their families, and their countries.

The fans, to me, were the biggest part of being at the games. Even the American fans, of which I count myself as one, were interested the entire game and getting into the chants and cheering. It was hard not to get caught up in all of that. These people come from countries with their own histories and problems, but last weekend it was just about baseball and supporting their teams.

People in America don't understand what nationalism and patriotism feel like; they get the concept, but what in the last six years have we had to be proud of? Our baseball, hockey, and basketball teams have all been thoroughly destroyed by other countries in international tournaments. Hockey has always been a more international game, but the U.S. used to pride itself on its baseball and basketball dominance. Our government is fighting a war it started on false pretenses, and our President is one of the worst leaders this world has ever seen. The international opinion of the United States has plummeted in recent years, and with good reason; many aspects of our societs reflect why we are viewed in a negative light. Lets face it; entertainers in our country are grossly overpaid, and it has started to show in the quality of work. Box office sales continue a downward trend, while the actors and actresses in the movies continue to be paid hansomely. Many athletes work hard until they get that big pay day, then they don't feel the urgent need to succeed anymore. Players like Darius Miles, in the NBA, are paid based on potential, then don't feel the need to fulfill it. Cuban players? They play games for free, and aren't given much money by the government. But as one player was quoted as saying, "Baseball is our culture in Cuba." The culture in the United States? Money.

Many United States baseball players, the men who are good enough to make a difference and play for their country, chose to sit out rather to play in this tournament. I am not including those with significant injuries who need to rehab. I'm talking about the guys who could have played, but chose not to. "I'm not ready to play," isn't a good excuse when you have a 5 month offseason to prepare. When I first heard guys saying it was an honor to play for this country, I thought it was company-line bullshit. Now, after attending the games, I realize that those players meant what they said. That is the way Cuban and Japanese players feel all the time. Japanese and Cuban fans felt honored that their country was playing for the WBC crown; to win would bring glory to their country. If the United States had made it to the finals, it would have just been another game with a trophy awarded at the end.

I learned a lot from the WBC, and not just about baseball. I realized that my opinion of baseball outside this country couldn't have been more wrong. I found out just how good players from other countries are, even though they don't get paid like it. Finally, I realized that even though Americans think we are the best, that is not true. The winds of change are blowing, and America is standing downwind. The next time the WBC rolls around, I hope the American players have learned a lesson from this years event: Nobody is going to give us anything just because we are America. The time has passed since that word meant something. We must show up at the next tournament not just wanting to win, but needing to win. Baseball is America's past time, or at least it used to be. Having Cuba and Japan play for the championship should be insulting to Americans...until it is, here's to both teams for showing this guy what baseball, and national pride, is all about.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

San Diego...Land of the Bro, Home of the Burrito

Alright, I'm back (at least physically) from California. My vacation was pretty good, but not as relaxing as I would have hoped. I am currently in no state of mind to write a well thought-out piece today, so instead I will drop some random observations and comments about my trip to San Diego, California.

- There are so many 'Bro's in California its not even funny. I'm talking specifically about Pacific Beach. Our bartender had a thick SoCal accent(even though he was from Framingham.) "Welcome to Cabo. How bout a Corona? Duuude, Corona Light? No way bro, you're getting a big guy, Corona. How bout a shot? Duuude"

-If you go out to California without an identity, one can be found with a wristband, some Etnies, and a flat-brimmed hat from whatever surf or skateboard company you choose to rep.

-San Diego is a VERY clean city. It makes Boston look like a landfill.

-The burrito market is such that competitive forces drive down the price of mexican food so far that I wonder how, or if, these places are making any profit. We usually ate breakfast at a restaurant simply called "Mexican Food." For $3.95 I had a breakfast burrito roughly the size of Zach Morris' cell phone, and a drink. No wonder these people take siestas...I didn't need to eat again until the sun went down.

-The homeless in San Diego definately have it made, in comparision to their brethren in less desirable climates. I am not saying that the homeless are thriving, or its good to be homeless. But if you are going to be travelling that road, there are worse places to be than CA. While enjoying a morning toss with the baseball on the beach, I noticed guys sleeping under the pier. Soft place to sleep, good weather, privacy...that pier had it all. I would also go as far as to say the homeless down there have more personality than any other homeless people I have seen.

-For instance...the heavy Mexican guy with just a guitar to his name, singing Jim Croce songs by the beach. Or, the black man with dreads who walked into the middle of a crosswalk, then proceeded to move around like he was in The Matrix. You know the scene from The Matrix on the roof, where Neo first dodges the bullets? Substitute a black homeless guy for Neo, a crosswalk for a roof, and nobody for the agent, and you have the exact scene that I witnessed.

-Going on a vacation with five guys isn't as easy as it sounds. It's actually extremely difficult. Not everyone wants to do the same stuff, and spending five days with the same dudes wears on you. But as long as you can let it go when you get home, its okay.

-The women in California are incredible, especially when viewed against the ample backdrop of girls in Massachusetts. The standard of hotness gets adjusted upward when you go out there. For example, a good looking girl in MA might go out to CA and not get a look. A kind-of hot girl from CA can come to MA and has to beat off guys with a stick.

-Men: You could have a patch over your eye and a leg could be broken, and you would still end up with a dime piece out there. To put it plainly, you can easily date way outside of your league in California. There just aren't enough good looking guys to match the number of girls, so the girls are forced to make concessions...to the benefit of all men on Earth. I like to call it the Theory of Supply and DeMan. The supply of beautiful women does not equal the supply of good looking men, skewing the average man's appearance upward, enabling them to get girlfriends that make other guys say, "What the fuck am I doing wrong if this guy is dating THAT girl?"

-In-N-Out Burger employs some of the hardest working people I have ever seen working. At any one time, there are three people working, and this place gets packed. They make the fries fresh, so somebody has to cut the taters, while another person takes orders, while the third person cooks hamburgers at a frantic pace. Also, they have a secret menu (not so secret I guess if its online), with such items as a Neopolitan shake (vanilla-chocolate-strawberry) and the Flying Dutchman (two patties with cheese, no bun). How cool is that?

-The time difference comes into effect all the time, especially when your trip is based on sporting events. I woke up at 10am on Friday to a full slate of college basketball, where if I were on the East Coast, those games don't take place until the afternoon. You can watch a full day of sports by 4pm, hit an outdoor bar for some sundown drinks, and go out at night without missing the Sox game.

-While leaving a bar one night, we saw a drunk guy who was yelling at his lady. After pissing on himself while trying to urinate on a fence, he tried to get a cab. As he was getting into the cab, he and his girl started yelling at each other, at which point the cabby hammered the gas and made a get away. The drunk kid was half in the cab when the dude took off, so he almost got run over. Later we saw the cabby at Jack in the Box, and it looked as if he was pulling the same trick on another mark.

-If you are going to move to southern California, it would be in your best interest to learn Spanish. Some people there don't even bother to learn even remedial English. You are in America, and we speak English here. Do you want me to start checking green cards? Its not the vacationing foreigners that bother me though, its the ones that stay...If you live here, learn English. America's ATM's in California have two pages of language options to choose from; I think foreigners can at least provide me with the 'English' option so we can communicate.

-Have you ever heard the Dave Chappelle skit about being taken to the ghetto when he isn't expecting to go? He realizes he is going to the ghetto by the stores on the side of the road..."gun store, gun store, liquor store, gun store...where the fuck are you taking me?" Same thing for Pacific Beach, except its "smoke shop, smoke shop, bar, fast food..."

-One member of our trip was stricken with a sickness that caused mass amounts of methane gas to silently seep out of his body. The list of casualties caused by his affliction includes multiple passengers on all three decks of a river boat we took around the bay; rows 13-18 in section 231 of Petco Park, including groups of Japanese and Cuban fans; and finally In-N-Out Burger, where he simply stood up, said "Let's see how loud this is going to be" while laughing hysterically, and let 'er rip. Subsequently, no less than 5 people ran out of the restaurant to escape asphyxiation. On the trip it became known as Centox Nerve Gas.

-Dive bars aren't that fun, especially when you are trying to relax. I was at one on Sunday, and even though you could buy a shot and a beer for under $5, I didn't particularly enjoy looking over my shoulder every five minutes, waiting to get hit with a pool stick.

-There are drive-in convenience stores in California. I was actually too weirded out by the idea to use the one I saw.

So there it is, some off the cuff comments about San Diego and my trip there. I should be revived tonite by an abundance of REM cycles, so tomorrow I will have something a bit more thoughtful. Until then...Stay Classy San Diego.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

F*ck You Boston...and Goodbye!

Today at 5:33pm, my flight leaves for San Diego. I will be there for five nights, and will regrettably not be able to update this space until Wednesday...sad I know. While I am gone, I encourage you to check out some of the things I wrote in the past. The archives from February are full, and there are entries all through March, and a few at the end of January. If you have liked anything I have written so far, chances are you can find something else I wrote previously enjoyable. Anyway......
As I leave for the West Coast, even though it is for a short time, I would like to leave Boston with a big FUCK YOU. To the city, and to some of its people, this gesture is more than appropriate. Yesterday I had to drive from Quincy to Tremont Street in Boston to pick my brother up from work. I used the never-reliable MapQuest (fuck you too!) and it told me it had a 7 mile drive ahead of me that would take 20 minutes. 50 minutes later and by sheer luck, I pulled up on Tremont two blocks down from where my brother was standing. Going over my journey, I really can't understand it. I am not an unintelligent person, so i don't think it was due to my lack of being able to follow the directions. The directions were vague, but they got me near South Station.
From there, I don't know what happened. I ended up in Southie, down a road that ends with a gate and two armed security guards. I believe it was a headquaters for the U.S. postal service. At any rate, I wasn't any closer to getting where I was going. Wasn't the Big Dig supposed to aleviate some of the pressure from navigating this God-forsaken city? The project went well over budget, took too long, and wasn't even done right. Leaky tunnels? What the fuck were you union-ass workers doing beside milking paychecks? Sorry, its not your fault. Its the designers and engineers who mapped out what was going on. Seriously, while it may sound archaic, public stoning for these individuals is warranted. Instead of this being their crowning achievement, its their biggest failure. Granted, the views driving up 93 into the city are beautiful, and I like that bridge with the blue lights near the (T.D. Banknorth) Garden, but driving in the city isn't any easier.
I have been into the city twice in the last month. One time I was going to Fanuel Hall, and my friend had a navigation system in his car, but we still ended up lost. This time, I had only the city of Boston to blame, as I refuse to admit I was at fault. F Bombs were shooting out the window, exploding down the side streets I was lost on. A middle aged woman on a cell phone nearly caused me to hit a double parked car while she was yapping on her cell phone. I called her a 'Fucking Bitch' and I don't even feel bad about it...at that point I would have bare-knuckle boxed her in the middle of the street.
I kept constant contact with my brother on the phone, but he knows where hes going as much as I do. His co-worker could only offer, "You guys don't drive around the city much, huh?" Regardless, after driving by the Children's Museum, North Station, South Station, and into Southie, I finally found Tremont Street. Turns out once you find Tremont, you can't just drive one way or the other till you find the address you want to find. The road ends, and picks up somewhere else. Its like the city of Boston expects you to know where you're going through osmosis...like I can just sit at a red light and absorb all knowledge needed to find where I'm going. They sure don't care about having street signs up; I couldn't even see any on some of the streets I was traversing.
I had to get that out...I can't let it eat at me while I'm away.

The reason I am going to California is for the World Baseball Classic. It is the international baseball tourament that is going on right now. The United States must win today to make it out to San Diego. If they can beat Mexico, and they should...they will face Korea Saturday in the semifinals, while the Dominican Republic plays Cuba in the other semifinal. How great would it be to see a U.S.-Cuba final on Monday? Maybe Castro can be flown in to share a luxery box with George W. I just hope if that game does come to fruitation, it doesn't end with a United States win on a blown call by an umpire. We already have one war on our hands, with several other strong possibilities for war on the horizon. Cuba is small, but they are fiesty...

Ok time to go. Thanks to everyone who has been reading, because I am really enjoying writing every day. Wednesday I will return refreshed with a nice summary of my trip. Until then...enjoy this cold weather biatch!

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

The Wide, Wide World of News: March 15, 2006

(The Afar Triangle)

(Awww...a Baby Ocean)


Pangea Junior?

Anytime I get to use the word 'Pangea,' or talk about it...I know its going to be a good day. Pangea, of course, is the name for the super continent that existed before plate tectonics split all the land of Earth into continents. That was before the dinosaurs even. But now, Scientists in Africa have recently discovered that the Horn of Africa is splitting apart, which will eventually lead to an ocean existing where the land is now. This event is taking place in the Afar Triangle, located in northeastern Africa. A human lifetime isn't long enough to see an ocean formed, but these scientists believe they are witnessing the birth of one. Hundreds of cracks are forming in the desert here, and the ground level has dropped over 300 feet. But wait...there's more! Scientists have observed liquid hot magma rising from beneath the desert floor, which ironically will be the ocean floor in the future.


I had never heard of the Afar Triangle before. I obviously know where Africa is, but I don't think anyone ever mentioned this section of the continent by that name. Anyway, there are three tectonic plates that meet under this triangle, and they are separating very slowly. They say the ground hasn't stopped moving in months, consistently being shaken by small earthquakes and volcanic activity.


All of this news sounds very ominous, but scientists say it will be millions of years before the new ocean splits Africa in half. I'm just trying to imagine an ocean forming over the corner of a continent, and then eventually working its way across until there is just land separated by an ocean. It seems strange to consider Africa split in half, but that is what these nerds are talking about. Personally, I see nothing wrong with another continent. Will it be South African and North Africa, or will they come up with a new name? With a little planning, you could buy some land in Africa now that will be beachfront property in a few million years...I'm sure you far distant relatives in the future will appreciate your forsight.


Smile...You're Gettin' Snitched On!

Police is East Orange New Jersey have found a new way to "protect and serve" the community. The fuzz is on the lookout for would-be snitchers in neighborhoods around town. The few, the proud...The Snitches. They will have access to a website that provides panoramic views of the blocks surrounding their homes. If a person sees something happening on camera that is against the law, all they have to do is type in the complaint, or provide a location where the law is being broken. The police will be notified immediately, but the best part is, Snitches can also activate secret police cameras to record all the action. Video recordings of police wrong doings will be destroyed immediately, while the Snitch who views the cops activity will promptly have his memory erased. What the fuck is going on in this country that we have video cameras on every block, and police are encouraging a society of Snitches that they call "Virtual Community Patrol." Good name, NJPD, that sounds like a fucking p.r. reps wet dream...Virtual Community Patrol. Shouldn't it be called Actual Community Patrol, or if not that, how bout NJPD Nazi Network?


A few things about the article confuse me though. It mentions that the Snitch Squad will consist of "soon-to-be-chosen" residents of East Orange. What in the hell does that mean? If a cop shows up at my doorstep, I have to become a snitch? Is there some sort of pay involved, or are people just snitching for the fun of it? I realize that it is important to control crime, but thats the job of the police. I mean, if I see an old lady getting mugged, then a citizen's arrest would be appropriate, I am all for it. But someone watching a video feed of a neighborhood that they themselves live in, and reporting crimes? This sounds a little suspect to me. That means the people snitching know the people breaking the law by name, since they are from the same neighborhood. That really takes every single bit of police work out of the equation for New Jerz's finest. You have evidence, a name; everything you need to arrest a person without the help of the police. So whats next? A Virtual Community Jail cell, where you can place people under arrest, by the authority of the NJPD?

My one hope in this situation is that they record the snitches in the act of snitching: "Alright, on the corner of 23rd and 5th street...I think there is a drug deal about to go down. Yes, I can see them from my window...Oh! I just saw them slap hands, and one of them had money in his palm..Wait. Wait, Oh Shit! (pop, pop!) Send a unit over now right now! My position has been compromised! They saw me snitchin' and now they're shootin'. (pop,pop,pop) I didn't sign up for this shit...HELP!" Police Dispatch: "We're sorry. You are not an official member of the NJPD and therefore cannot request backup. If you need further assistance, please hang up and dial 911..."

(Zach Morris...Is that You?)

Live Life the Michael Douglas Way

Michael Douglas has recently come out swinging against a few famous faces in Hollywood, namely Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, Renee Zellweger-Chesney, and Julia Roberts-Lovett. Personally, if I ever met this man I would congratulate him on one of the funniest statements of the year, which he made regarding Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt. "I don't know about Brad Pitt, leaving that beautiful wife to go hold orphans for Angelina." Is Chris Rock writing his material? He went on to mention that he doesn't understand how people can get married for 4 months, naming Zellweger for her marriage to Kenny Chesney, and Julia Roberts' incomprehensible marriage to Lyle Lovett.

However, Michael Douglas really shouldn't be making comments about the love lives of others. Thats like George W. calling Sadaam Hussein a murderer...but I guess it takes one to know one. Douglas has been divorced twice, and was rumoured to be a recovering sex addict until the miraculous happened and Catherine Zeta-Jones agreed to marry him. Douglas is 61 years old, while Zeta-Jones-Douglas is 36. Michael Douglas has a son who is 27. You know that kids got a shot with her when the elder Douglas retires from life. That all being said, I would like to propose a toast to Michael Douglas; his unprovoked attack on fellow celebrities on a topic he has no right to speak on has made me laugh out loud at my computer desk. As a side note to this story, the thought of his naked, rotting corpse on top of Catherine Zeta-Jones has, in my eyes, lowered her from Salma Hayek hot to Nicole Kidman hot; she's a beautiful gal, but it sort of ends there. But whenever Gordon Gecko's Life Stock Market crashes, she will resume her rightful place along side Salma in the Pantheon of Hotness.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Sounds Strange to Me...How Bout You?


I just wanted to post some things that I have been thinking about, I have observed, or that have happened to me in the past few weeks. I started realizing I was seeing all these strange things happening around me, and I wanted to write them all down. I wonder if stuff like this happens to other people, or if people even pay attention to these things. Anyway, here's some strange events to ponder. Am I the only one who thinks these things are strange?


-Strange things happen at the bottle & can redemption center. I was in line behind an elderly lady who resembled Mike Ditka both in appearance, voice, and smell. She didn't have bags of cans to redeem; she had two milk crates filled with empty 40 oz. bottles. The bottles would have been impressive as the remnants of a good night at a college frat party; but to see her trading in those bottles really made me wonder about the woman and her life story.

-During that same trip, a man walked in and grabbed a used bag out of the trash. He proceeded outside to his car, where he filled the ripped bag with empty 40's that were lying behind the driver's seat on the floor. I let him go ahead of me in line because he only had that one bag. He traded in about 25 empty 40 oz. bottles, receiving roughly enough money to buy a new 40...which he did immediately after getting his redemption money.

-The other day while I was pulling out of a gas station, I had to cross a lane to get going the right way. I pulled out, and had to wait a few seconds as the light changed and the cars started moving. This forced a truck travelling the opposite way to slow down ever so slightly so it didn't hit me. It was a Napa Auto Parts truck, one of the ones with the yellow hat on top of the cab. To my surprise, it was driven by a woman, who proceeded to flip me off and unleash a string of curse words that would make Andrew Dice Clay sound like Danny Tanner.

-On the way to work last week, I got passed by a Honda Civic with a (homemade) camouflage paint job. I was driving 80 mph. The Civic was going 100. Maybe he thought the cops would have trouble picking his car up against the background of the woods on the side of the highway.

-Twice in the last two weeks, I have gone into the handicapped bathroom at work only to find paper on the toilet seat. First, it was a Neat Seat, which someone had obviously used and left for the next person. Maybe they felt it was proper manners to leave that there for someone else to use. The second time, there was a dump in the toilet, and toilet paper lining the seat. Part of this arrangement was hanging inside the toilet and into the water. I'm curious, does anyone else out there feel obligated to leave their toilet paper nests on a public toilet for future use by other visitors, or is it just people in my office?

-I can't understand some people. I live down a quiet dirt road in a quiet town. Every night between 10pm and midnight, a kid who lives down the road comes home. How do I know that? Because no matter what time of night it is, he is playing music louder than his car speakers can handle. Its just mind boggling. If you have ever been in the car with this kid, you probably have permanent hearing damage. Plus, its totally pointless. Most people that live down that road are either summer residents, or fast asleep by the time this kid comes home, so there is no one around to impress. Maybe it makes him feel cool to listen to rap at loud volumes in the middle of the night. Kid, if you are out there, I am here to tell you that your un-needed display of playing distorted rap music too loud is possibly the most pointless activity I can think of.

-I love it when people park their cars far away from the door to whatever building they are entering, but instead of parking in a spot, they park diagonally across two or three. What? You are basically declaring to the world that your car is so nice you won't even let it near other cars. That has to be the most arrogant thing you can do while parking a car. Recently I saw this at a mall, but instead of the typical Benz or BMW, there sat a white Honda with a steel-coloured spoiler taking up two and a half spots . I don't need to mention the fact that this car is worth less than $10, 000 or that it isn't even up for consideration for occupying multiple parking spots. The next time you see a car parked sideways like that, I suggest parking right next to it, as close as you can without touching it...all the better if your car is a shitbox. That will teach the person who feels they need more than one parking spot to take themselves a little less seriously.

-One night while traversing my excrutiating path home after work, I got stuck in a traffic jam. I was sitting there in stand-still, not-moving-an-inch traffic, when I looked out the window and saw a man open his window and proceed to drop a large McDonald's bag full of trash on the ground right next to his car. Then he put up his window, and sat there until the traffic started moving. I was speechless. Its not unheard of to see a bag of trash on the side of the road, but usually whoever drops it doesn't stick around to admire his work. Not only could this guy have waited until he came to a proper trash receptical, he could have tried to mask the fact that he was blatently breaking the law in front of dozens of people. I tried to initiate a citizen's arrest, but after a lackluster response from my fellow commuters, I disgressed.

-Finally, we come to the the most unbelievable topic on this list; Unabashed Public Child Abuse. I have seen this one several times before, but never as bad as a recent trip to Filene's. Usually, you see public beatings in places like Walmart or Shaw's, Wareham or New Bedford. This time it was at a mall, in Filene's. Women of the world, please listen up: DO NOT HAVE MORE BABIES THAN YOU CAN CARE FOR. This woman had 3 kids, all under 7 years old from the looks of it; she couldn't have been older than thirty. Anyway, she was looking at some clothes for her man (I think... she was in the men's section). Her kids were all over the department; making noise, grabbing clothes, throwin' bows...generally acting like kids, but poorly behaved kids none-the-less. Anyway, the mother tried quietly to shush the kids, but after that didn't work she started calling them 'bastards' to their faces and 'little muthafuckas' under her breath. (The bastard part was ironically true.)

Eventually the kids got closer to their mom, but were still acting up. This whole scene took about five to seven minutes to unfold, by the way. All of a sudden, mommy bends down low and strokes her oldest son across the jaw with a left. I'm not saying it was a closed-fist punch...but I'm not saying it wasn't either. The kid went down like Peter Griffin and started crying on the ground: you know that kid crying where they are so hurt and shocked they can't catch their breath? The mother then pushed the other brother into a rack of shirts, then yanked the girl up violently by her arm, which seemed to be completely dislocated by that point. Now, instead of 3 misbehaving kids, there were three battered, bawling bastards causing a huge scene in Filene's. At least the mother knew in the end who was responsible for the whole fiasco. As she picked up her children, and pretended like everything was alright, she whispered in that 'its-alright' mom voice..."See what you made me do? Don't you ever make me do that again!?!"

There you have it...a summary of strange things that happen around me. I'm sure all you out there have similar experiences to talk about. If anyone wants to leave a comment regarding this, or an email...feel free, I will include your story in my next installment if they measure up....

Monday, March 13, 2006

An Ode to Shooter McGavin.


(Shooter McGavin, Movie Villian; Jerk)

Last night while trying to find something to watch on television, I came across Happy Gilmore on the Universal HD channel. Happy Gilmore is one of those movies that, while flipping through the channels, you always stop to watch...even if its just for a moment. It is a classic comedy, a classic Adam Sandler movie, and one of the most watchable movies about golf ever made. Nothing else on cable piqued my interest at the time, so I stuck with Happy. As usual, I was not sorry for that decision. Each time I watch that movie, I laugh at the Sandler parts of course: taking batting practice balls off the chest, fighting hecklers in the crowd, etc. But what amazes me in this Sandler movie, and in most of his others, is the quality laughs provided by the supporting cast. If its not Chubbs, its the bum caddy. If its not the "Mista Mista" lady, its Lee Travino. However, there is one character in this movie that takes the cake, not only for laughs, but for being a complete and utter douchebag. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I speak of Shooter McGavin.

Shooter McGavin is played by Christopher McDonald, who has appeared in many movies and many television shows. The reason you can't seem to come up with the names of any is because Christopher McDonald is known as Shooter McGavin...he's got to be. Anybody who plays a character that well must become synonomous with that character. I don't know where the inspiration for this character came from, but I hope its an actual, living person. Shooter, as you may well know, is the top pro on the golf tour in this movie, yet he hasn't been able to win the Tour Championship and receive his Golden Jacket. This feat is looked at as the pinnacle of the golf season, yet for all the tournaments Shooter wins, he cannot seem to win the big one. Enter Happy Gilmore, who qualified for the tour at a local play-in tournament called The Waterbury Open. Happy immediately receives attention from the media because he can drive the ball 400 yards. Well that and the fact that he throws clubs, beats fans, and goes on forty second swearing rampages. Shooter does not believe that Happy deserves any attention at all (because he sucks at golf), and is jealous of it. It is this jealousy that drives Christopher McDonald's Shooter McGavin character from an average comedy movie antagonist to Legendary Movie Villian.

From the very first time we see Shooter, we realize he is a dickhead. When tour P.R. director Virginia Venit approaches Shooter at the Waterbury Open, Shooter says that he has heard a lot about the work she has done (he hasn't). When she tries to talk to him about that work, he tells her to get him a Pepsi. Diet. Soon after that scene, Happy is out on the golf course, where he has just sunk a hole in one on a par 4. Virginia is watching with Shooter as it takes place:
Virginia: [to Shooter] Did you see that?
Shooter McGavin: Yes. Nice shot.
Virginia: He just got a Hole-in-One on a par four!
Shooter McGavin: I know. I just said I saw it.
Virginia: [laughs] Oh, I hope he wins. He's a publicist's dream. I mean, a guy who could drive the ball that far - oh, he could really draw a crowd. [Virginia walks away smiling]
Shooter McGavin: [under his breath] You know what else could draw a crowd? A golfer with an arm growing out of his ass.
If thats not high comedy, I don't know what is. Sometimes, when an actor nails a character perfectly like this, even the unfunny lines are funny. Shooter is so jealous of Happy even at this early juncture, that he downplays everything Happy does, even if it is remarkable. This characteristic drives Shooter McGavin to be the biggest prick he can be.

As Happy starts to make his way on the tour, Shooter makes life tough for him. He tells Happy to meet him at the 9th green at 9pm, for what Shooter calls a 'secret of the pros.' When Happy arrives, nobody is there except the sprinklers that were programmed to go on at 9. Shooter continues to agitate Happy because Shooter keeps winning and Happy needs to perform better to win money for his grandmother's house. Shooter finds out about Happy's grandma, and shows up to bid on the house when it goes on the market. He is the highest bidder, and when Happy confronts him, Shooter threatens to, "Burn the house to the ground and piss on the ashes." Eventually Happy becomes good at golf though, and Shooter resorts to hiring someone to heckle Happy and get him off his game. This works, but later on Happy overcomes it and he has his showdown with Shooter at the Tour Championship.

Shooter goes into the Tour Championship as the favorite to win, but he is pissed off at what Happy and his crowd of fans are doing to golf. During the final weekend of the tournament, Shooter can be heard telling people in the crowd to, "Go back to your Shanties," and "Damn you people. This is golf, not a rock concert." He obviously doesn't think that Happy's fans should be considered golf fans, what with the beer helmets, boob signings, and fat bikers making sweet love in the woods off the green. Through all the distractions, Shooter holds together his lead, even after multiple run-ins with Mr. Larson, Happy's old construction boss who was shot in the head with a nail gun by Happy. On a side note, the man who plays Mr. Larson lives in my town. Its either him, or maybe the guy has a twin. Everytime I see him, I replay the following scene in my head.

Mr. Larson: Trying to reach the green from here Shooter?
Shooter McGavin: I'm afraid that's impossible.
Mr. Larson: I beg to differ. Happy Gilmore accomplished that feat no more than an hour ago. Shooter McGavin: Well moron [turns to see Mr. Larson for the first time]
Shooter McGavin: Good for Happy Gilmo-- OH MY GOD!!!
If you haven't seen the movie, perhaps you saw the James Bond movie Moonraker, where the actor who plays Mr. Larson plays Jaws. Now you realize what Shooter was up against.

Shooter loses the tournament he so desperately wants to win when Happy sinks a miraculous putt. This is the usual treatment of villians in movies, and nobody deserved his fate as much as Shooter. He was arrogant, stuck-up, rude, and all together unlikable character in the movie, but he played his part well. Villians are supposed to make you hate them; make you want to inflict pain on them for being so vile. Shooter is that, and so much more. It is rare to get a villian who is such an asshole all the time; it is quite another that this asshole makes you laugh consistently. Usually laughs and villainy do not mix well. Shooter is known for a few lines in Happy Gilmore, especially the "I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast," as well as "Just stay out of my way or you'll pay, listen to what I say" and of course, the Hasslehoff joke I use everytime I hit the links. Everybody knows those lines, but it is the entire perfomance, the entire character, that make each line that much better. In the end, Shooter ends up being pummeled off screen by Mr. Larson, thus ending the all-too-short run of brilliance by one of the greatest villians in cinematic history.





Friday, March 10, 2006

The Chronic: Life Lessons from Dr. Dre & Friends

Dr. Dre. The Chronic. Most people between ages 20-28 own this album. If you don't, I'm really not sure what happened to you on your way up... must have gotten lost in the shuffle. This is pretty much the rap album to own if you have to choose one. At least once a month i throw it on and let it go. This week I played the album, but it was different. I started to realize that behind the gangsta lyrics and G-Funk beats was a message; many messages actually. It became clear that this entire time, The Chronic held information that I would use later in life. It held keys that opened doors to a more deeper understanding of the music, and of life. Ladies and Gents, without further ado, I present The Chronic: Life Lessons from Dr. Dre & Friends.


1. "The Chronic" (Intro) - Rap cd intro's can do one of two things; make you skip to the intro, or listen to it. You can't skip the intro to this one. This is Snoop's true introduction to the world. This is Death Row's introduction to the world. This is letting Eazy-E, among others, know that Dre isn't fuckin' around. Roughly halfway through, Snoop lets us have this nugget of knowledge: "G's Up, Ho's Down...If that Bitch Can't Swim, then she Bound to Drizzowd." Brilliant. Pretty much if your bitch can't keep up, you better get rid of her. Knowledge for life my friends, right under our noses. Also of note is a message to Easy-E and the former manager of N.W.A., signed "Sincerely Yours, These Muthafuckin' Nuuuuuuuuts."

2."Fuck Wit Dre Day"- This is my favorite song on The Chronic. It always has been, and probably always will be. The beat is gangsta, the song is gangsta, but the video pushes it over the edge. They are rapping in the middle of a huge party in what looks like an enormous garage. The day I saw this video is the day I realized there exists parties in this world where the only alcohol present is a fridge full of 40's. How raw is that? A tall ice box, filled to the top with 40's, all facing ass out. I also found out that if you attend one of these parties, it is okay to shake up the 40's and spray down whichever bitch you choose with your buddies. The knowledge this song bestowed upon we was when Snoop says "Here's a jimmy joke about yo mama that you might not like/ I heard she was a 'Frisco Dyke." Picture the shock on my mom's face when I asked her what that meant, and she immediately tried to change the subject. Years later I remember that as my first introduction to the word 'dyke.'

3. "Let Me Ride"- This song starts with a superb "BIATCH!" Up until I heard it, I had no idea there was more than one way to say 'Bitch.' Also, this song contains a sample of "Mothership Connection," by Parliament. Not too much knowledge here, but in retrospect he was teaching young Whitey (myself) about switches. You know, cars with hydraulics use switches to make the car "...Pancake, front and back, side to side and all that shit." He's just telling you what he can do with his switches!


4."The Day the Niggaz Took Over"- This song features RBX, Snoop and Daz. It talks about Bloods and Crips, swap meets, and, well, taking over. The knowledge here is "...got a VCR, in the back of my car/that I ganked from the Slausson Swap Meet/and muthafuckas better not try to stop me" Basically Dre is condoning Swap Meet Theft. I got caught opening packs of baseball cards and taking the best ones out of Walmart once.

5."Nuthin' but a 'G' Thang"- I learned as much from this video as I did from the song. The video showed me that if I could own any hoodie on earth, it would be a the black LBC one Snoop wears in the beginning. Also, I want to go to a BBQ in California someday. Every car had switches, the grill was packed with meat, and there was a little four year old dancing like a muthafucka. Also, there were some pretty good looking women playing volleyball, and their male teammates would just pull their bikini tops down...so thats cool. Snoop's bringing the knowledge again on this track: "...And before me dig out a bitch I have ta' find a contraceptive/You never know she could be earnin' her man,And learnin' her man/and at the same time burnin' her man/Now you know I ain't wit that shit Lieutenant/Ain't no pussy good enough to get burnt while I'm up in it." This is actually a public service announcement: Wear condoms all the time, because your bitch could be playin' another dude, and fuckin around on him with you, but no matter what it ain't worth catching something.

6."Deeeeez Nuuuuuuts"- I think the title says all you need to know about this song. It presented the world with the phrase "Deeeez Nuuuuuuts," which is probably used more than you think. If its not, I'm saying right now that everyone needs to work it back into their vocabulary.

7."Little Ghetto Boy"- This song features a sample from 70's soul singer Donny Hathaway's song of the same title. It illustrates what its like to be a kid in the ghetto. It goes from Snoop being on Death Row, to Dre just getting out of jail after a bid, and finally Dre trying to jack a younger guy and having a gun pulled on him. Definately a cautionary street tale. The knowledge you take away from this song is getting a firsthand view of the life of a 'Loc'd ass O.G."

8."A Nigga Witta Gun"- On this song Dre is just talking shit, letting people know they can't fuck with him. Knowledge of guns is what you can gain from this song: AK's, .38's, fo-fo's, and my personal favorite, them Desert Eagles.

9."Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat"- Random Guy: "You really don't understand do you? Hey man, don't you realize for us to make this thang work man we got to get rid of the pimps and the pushers and prostitutes, and then start all over again clean..." Dre: "NIGGAZ YOU CRAZY." What a great start to a song. The songs title implies gunfire, and thats pretty much what this song is like. My favorite part is when he provides us with an insightful look into a typical night in Compton for him and his boys: "Rat-tat-tat-tat late at night with my gat/On the streets of LA/Wonderin' where the pussy at/Straight playa, looking for a hoe/Hangin' out, rollin in my '64." Nothing but driving that '64 around looking for members of the opposite sex to fornicate with.

10. "The $20 Sack Pyramid"- Possibly the greatest skit ever on a rap album, The $20 Sack Pyramid is a parody of the $10,000 Pyramid that probably is on the Game Show Network right now. There are two contestants, and one must provide clues to the other, facilitating the correct guess based on those clues. If they win they get a $20 sack of endo, and a $35 gift certificate to the Compton Swap Meet. I mean, the premise alone is hilarious. But when you listen to the clues, the guesses, and the final answer, this skit is unbeatable. Besides being funny, it also enhances the listeners vocabulary, and gives them pick up lines to use, as well as what to watch out for if you think a gay person is after you. A few samples: "Endo..uh, uh...Buddha." O shit I used to Sell? "Uh, uh...Hocus Pocus" O things that people smoke! ... "O fuck me in the ass...O, o step to me and let me suck your dick." Things that Tim Dawg would say? ... "I know Doc...uh, uh Dre gon' do my music. Uhhh, Snoop and me be going to the swap meet and shit. " O, I know that one. Things that niggaz be sayin' to get the pussy!

11. "Lyrical Gangbang"- The beginning of this song says it all: This should be played at high volume. Preferably, in a residential area. Lady of Rage leads off, followed by Kurupt and RBX. All you learn from this song is that Kurupt "makes 'em cool off like a Polar Cap"... and that he's "Livin' large like a fat bitch."

12."High Powered"- I love this song because its so gangsta. Dre introduces the song and then drops a nice beat. "Yo man, give me some of that ol' gangsta-ass shit.../Some shit I can just kick back, smoke a fat ass joint toYou know what I'm sayin?" So Dre gets us going, but RBX knocks it out of the park with the beginning of his verse. "Seven execution style murders/I have no remorse cuz I'm the fuckin' murderer/ Haven't you ever heard of a killa? /(Bomb sound) I drop bombs like Hiroshima." God damn thats a hard way to start off your verse. Thats why this shit is so High Powered.

13. "The Doctor's Office"- This is the other skit on this album. In it, Dre is a doctor, and woman make appointments to come to his office and fuck him. Thats about the whole idea.

14."Stranded on Death Row"- I like this song because each person that raps comes out of a different cell block, giving the illusion that they are rapping from an actual Death Row somewhere. Kurupt comes out first, then RBX, Lady of Rage, and Daz. At this point in the album, the knowledge has started to dry up, but you still get a lot of tough talk and gangsta shit. Something mentioned here, which i learned on this album, is what '187' means. For everyone that doesnt' know, its the police code for murder. If you prefer the Demolition Man version, its...Murder Death Kill. Murder Death Kill.

15. "The Roach" (Outro)- This song is basically Parliament's "(P-Funk) Wants to Get Funked Up," but with different words. The different words all have to do with marijuana, so if you are looking for information on the plant this is a good place to start. It includes terminology and examples of how it effects people. Also it mentions different names for it, different ways to smoke it, and different materials to put it in. Munchies are mentioned, and this would be a great end to the album if it weren't for the secret song....

16. "Bitches Ain't Shit"- Mothers, do not let your son's listen to this song until they are adults. You don't want your kid talking about women the way these guys do on this song. I will end with the chorus of this song, which really emphasizes my point. "Bitches ain't shit but ho's and tricks/lick on these nuts and suck the dick/Get's the fuck out after you're done/And I hops in my ride to make a quick run..."



Just a quick background on The Chronic. It was released shortly before Christmas, in 1992. I was 11 at the time, but didn't get into the album until I was about 14 or 15. Sure, I knew the singles: Dre Day, Nuthin' but a 'G' Thang, Let Me Ride. But I lived in a small town in Massachusetts, under my mother's watchful eye, and I couldn't see her letting me listen to a cd with a Chronic leaf on it. Anyway, let's take a look at the guilty parties on this album: Dre, Snoop, RBX, Daz, Kurupt, Lady of Rage, Warren G, and a sprinkle of Nate Dogg. All these people were nobody's before the Chronic; after most of them went on to successful careers. Dr. Dre produced the songs, but most songs are heavily influenced by George Clinton and Parliament, better know as Parliament Funkadelic, or P-Funk. Dre's music, in turn, was called G-Funk. Definately in my top 5 rap albums of all time. Dr. Dre, if you ever read this...thank you for sharing that gangsta-ass knowledge with the world.