Wednesday, January 18, 2006

What it is is what i



What it is is what it is is what it is, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers



More than that, huh?
In Los Angeles there was a huge sewage spill in Manhattan Beach; it is so bad there is more crap on the beach then there is on prime time on NBC.


So mean
Did you see the video replay of last year’s green hillside collapse at La Conchita? Oh, sorry, that was Drew Barrymore’s dress at the Golden Globes.


At the Golden Globe awards, ouch, did you see Drew Barrymore’s saggy green dress? Not to get mean and catty but they should have introduced her as Droop Barrymore.


Drunk
The Golden Globe awards are hilarious; you can sit there and watch the big shot movie stars get hammered. Every shot of the crowd, the celebrities have a glass of booze in their hand. “Brokeback Mountain” actor Heath Ledger was so tanked he made a pass at a straight cowboy.


Tim Robbins was so drunk he hugged a republican.


The “Desperate Housewives” were so drunk they got along with Terri Hatcher.


Hammered
Did you see the Golden Globe Awards? If what they say is true that Hollywood is high school with money, than the “Desperate Housewives” stars are the buzzed cheerleaders at the party giggling and gossiping at all the losers.


Those booze-laden Golden Globe awards were wild. Today “Brokeback Mountain” star Heath Ledger woke up in bed next to his horse.


Helpful
A London department store is offering a class on how to use the iPod. It is very thorough, it shows how to select a song, how to play a song, and most importantly how to never ever play or download a song from Celine Deon.


Why they hate us
The goodie bags handed out to Hollywood’s elite at the Golden Globes are worth $62,000. And we wonder why the rest of the world hates us. “Hey Omar, go to bed, you’ve got to get up and milk the goat.” “No, I have to stay up and see what’s in Stephen Speilberg’s $62,000 goody bag.”


Apu is mad at you
After a surprise rocket attack on terrorists, Pakistan is very angry at the United States; it is serious, Pakistan is so mad we may have to pour our own slurpies.


We’ve got that
English scientists are seeking permission to fuse human cells with rabbit eggs. Don’t we already have that? It’s called Paris Hilton.


Double world record
A 20-year-old Cal Tech student set a world record for solving a Rubic’s cube in eleven seconds; he also set a world record for being the only guy with a world record who can’t get laid.


Ouch
Some poor guy in London discovered his girlfriend was cheating on him with a guy named Gary when their parrot squawked out what she yelled during sex; “I love you, Gary.” That’s not the worst of it, the parrot then squawked out; “OK, Gary, send in the rest of your rugby team.”


You think that’s bad? The woman is really grateful their Great Dane can’t talk.


The parrot watched them having sex. Yeah, in a related story, Prince Charles and Camilla’s parrot just committed suicide.


In a related story, in London alone, five thousand parrots were returned to their pet store.

Since you asked:
As my long-suffering regular readers know only too well, from time to time, I get a major insect where it don’t belong and tear into a topic but hard. Sure, I say things that offend and lose some readers and if that is the case, I am sorry to lose you but, as the song says, I’ve got to be me.

I like top sirloin.

No, wait a second, don’t leave yet. Listen, you can still have your filet mignons and your rib eyes and your strip/New York steaks and your t-bones and your porterhouse steaks. I love them too, but for the money and the leanness, with a little finesse, the top sirloin is your friend.

Last night I put a strong rub on that puppy: garlic powder, red pepper, black pepper, paprika, cumin, salt and grilled it sizzling hot for a sexy ruddy crust on a perfect pink and juicy medium rare. Sliced it thin like a flank steak and served it on a grill crusted roll with sliced tomatoes, melted roasted garlic-mustard *butter, mayo, and grilled red onions.

That right there was one tasty steak sanguidowich. Glass of cab, baked beans and a fruit salad. Bob’s your Uncle.

*Roast an entire head of garlic with drizzled olive oil at 400 for 45 minutes, and squeeze it into a bowl with three tablespoons of butter, mash it up, add salt, dash of Worcestershire, a big slug of Dijon mustard, mix well and stick it in the freezer to firm it up.

Since you asked, deuce
If a quarterback insists on changing the plays, fine. If he insists on changing blocking assignments, fine. If he also insists on gesturing wildly on each play to instruct his blockers about where the defense is, fine. But if that same quarterback loses and then blames his offensive line, the way Peyton Manning did, then he is a whiny little poor sport who needs his Daddy to slap him around so that he grows up.

Right now the two-tier caste system in the NFL is out of control. Free agency combined with salary caps has resulted in a huge chasm between the players who do their jobs and fill their rolls and the flashy playmakers.

If I’m some hard-working lineman for the Colts who gets told by their superstar – who is, incidentally, making one hundred times more than what I make - how to block and when, and then he turns around and blames the loss on me? I am taking out an ad with a map to show my opponent how to rip off my quarterback’s head. I will buy two of those red flashlight thingies they use to guide in jets to point out the road to the pocket.

The body language of the Colts was terrible. Marvin Harrison was openly pouting because he didn’t get the ball. Tony Dungy was frozenly seething when Manning openly disobeyed his orders to punt. And Manning was sarcastically mocking when we could mouth read how he said about Vanderjagt; “He missed.” It was as if Manning was saying; “Do I have to do everything?”

Well, no, but getting a touchdown or ten yards closer would have been a good start.

And how important is the Colts once unbeaten streak now? Not so much.

It would not be a bad move for Tony Dungy to leave the Colts. He is in a no-win situation. With Manning taking all the credit and dishing out all the blame, Dungy is the proverbial damned-if-he-does-damned-if-he-doesn’t.

Too many former fans had to quit on the NBA because of all the whiny, selfish rich jerks who demand respect and yet deserve absolutely none. Don’t let that happen to the NFL.