Monday, August 28, 2006

What if I told you you could read some half-assed topical jokes for free? Would that be something that you would be interested in, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers?


Inflation
Happy belated birthday to Wilt Chamberlain who would have been 70 last Monday; and if Wilt is like most guys when they get older, his claim of having been with 20,000 women would now be exaggerated to around 45,000.

20,000 women. That doesn’t even allow any time to brag to the boys.

My kind of guy
Jeremy Piven won the Emmy for best supporting actor in the HBO comedy “Entourage.” In fact, actor Jeremy Piven is so good portraying a ruthless Hollywood agent, he almost got the role of the lead snake on “Snakes on a Plane.”

Koo koo
The commentary for the international broadcast feed of the Oleg Maskaev-Hasim Rahman bout was provided by none other than Mike Tyson. This broadcast was closed-captioned for the insanity impaired.

Just an idea
Tiger Woods won his fourth straight tournament at the Bridgestone Invitational. How did Tiger Woods celebrate his PGA Championship the week before? He took his hot bikini model wife on his private luxury jet and flew to Houston to pick up an adorable Labradoodle puppy named Yogi. Just in case we didn’t realize how much our lives suck compared to Tiger Woods.

Uuuugly
At the Bridgestone Invitational, third place finisher Jim Furyk’s backswing is so ugly and scary look for the new film “Furyk’s Backswing On a Plane.”

Furyk’s backswing looks like an old man in his boxers trying to close an umbrella in a hurricane.

Now that is old
There is a 90-year-old bartender in New York. He is so old he remembers when Old Grandad was just a young punk.


There is a 90-year-old bartender in New York. Actually, he’s not really a bartender, he’s looking to break into musical theater.

Catchy
A former Osama bin Laden sex slave is writing a book. I think the title is “The Seventy-five Virgins You Meet In Heaven.”

Not good
“People” magazine’s “Before They Were Stars” issue reveals that Paris Hilton played soccer as a girl; Paris had a tough time at soccer, she didn’t like the fact that she couldn’t use her hands.

Again, my kind of guy
Jeremy Piven won an Emmy for best supporting actor in the HBO comedy “Entourage.” His acceptance speech was a little disappointing. It did not contain one “Let’s hug it out you little bitch.”


Since you asked:

Not to brag, but I was a fan of the Jeremy Piven back with the movie “Singles.” He stole the movie with his hyper-amped grocery clerk with the dead panned line; “You may have other plans.”

Then he kicked butt on “The Larry Sanders Show.” This is like my discovering Jennifer Anniston back when she was on “The Julie Brown Show."

You can’t throw a rock in the Evanston/North Shore area without hitting a big-hearted lug and likeable smart-ass cocky ex-jock like Jeff Garlin, Jeremy Piven, George Wendt, John Cusak, Bill Murray and Vince Vaughn. The Chicago area always has a bumper crop of loud-mouth, beer guzzling loveable knuckleheads. Hell, just think John Belushi.

But I could be biased.

Speaking of Hollywood.

To paraphrase Woody Allen, Hollywood is worse than dog eat dog;.it is dog tells the other dog he’s not on the list.

You can measure the downfall of a life in Hollywood by how many times they say; “What do you mean I am not on the list?” in the course of a month.

Can’t we all remember the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you walk up to go to the really cool kid’s party in high school? There is a billion years between the seconds when they make you stand there and then finally let you in. Or worse, they give you the boot.

Imagine that played out in front of the entire world’s sleazy Paparazzi?

It is true, Hollywood is high school with money, plastic surgery and better drugs and food. Oh, and sex.

Today is the day after the Emmys. Or as it is known in Hollywood. “I can’t get my deposit back from the Limo company because somebody puked in it” day.

One night we went out after work on Wall Street and tried to get into the scorching hot new club in New York at the time, the Palladium. We were in suits and there was a general milling about with the crowd in front. This stone-faced evil Dragon Lady was holding forth playing God deciding who she would or, in our case, would not let in. We were patient until it became apparent she wasn’t letting anyone in a suit inside. She sadistically enjoyed eyeing our group and then choosing whomever else walked up.

Gosh, I wonder what she is doing now? Probably deciding who gets the least stained mattress at a crack house in Trenton.

But at least I’m not bitter.