Friday, October 03, 2014

It is official, Honey Boo Boo’s parents, Mama June and Sugar Bear, have split up. The couple is citing irreconcilable idiocies.

The head of the Secret Service, Julia Pierson, resigned. She is going to be appointed as the head of couples counseling for the NFL.

In Paris, a fight broke out between Justin Bieber’s posse and the paparazzi. As soon as the fight broke out, 50 French bystanders immediately surrendered.

Mila Kunis and Ashton Kucher named their new baby girl Wyatt. What a relief, I was afraid it might be named something weird.

Thursday, October 02, 2014

This just in:

The 2015 NFL draft is moving from New York to Chicago. The NFL figures any city that could get rid of Al Capone can handle the criminals in the NFL draft.
Leonardo DiCaprio on a yacht. Yep, this looks like a guy who all he does is worry about global warming. 

Here are my new Hunter Pence signs: 
Hunter Pence puts ice in his Chardonnay.
Hunter Pence is on AOL. 
Hunter Pence’s pin number is 1234. 
Hunter Pence slurps his soup. 
Hunter Pence takes selfies with his cat. 
Hunter Pence wears Crocs.
Hunter Pence leaves an empty coffee pot in the break room.

Hunter Pence uses the word irregardless. 

Hunter Pence don' need no stinkin' badges

Hunter Pence drinks Chai Lattes

A fight broke out in Paris between Justin Bieber and the paparazzi. How do you chose sides here? It’s like al Qaeda versus ISIS.

New York Giant, Antrel Rolle, said his teammate, Prince Amukamara, is having a good year because he is finally having sex. That isn’t right, the Oakland Raiders are having an awful year and they’re totally screwed.

In Louisiana, two blonde female teachers are accused of having a threesome with a 16-year-old male student. The women were charged with carnal knowledge of a juvenile, and the boy was charged with excessive high-fiving.

Man, in high school I couldn't even nail anything in woodshop.

Since you asked: 
Love the “Masterchef,” Gordan Ramsey is the best, but the four finalists are all unlikeable. Don’t want any one of them to win. The last likeable contestant was Big Willy. Maybe Christian. And Jaimee. Jaimee is awesome. Just want to hug her. 
You know the contestants are unlikeable when you do not like them more than that snippy little bald judge, Joe Bastianich. 
Cutter is a big ol’ doofus redneck who blames everyone but himself for his many stupid mistakes. The only thing likeable about him is he hates Leslie as much as we do.
Leslie is just the worst. The worst. He is smug, snotty, arrogant, hateful, rude and he can’t shut up about how rich he is. He isn't rich, his wife is. But he is the proverbial bad penny, he just keeps showing up.
Elizabeth is as talented a chef as she is a stone-cold bitch. She has a serious case of resting bitch face and her eye-rolls at Courtney are epic. Elizabeth throws more shade than the Black Forest. But she is not a hypocrite.
Courtney is a hypocrite. Her “Oh, look how cute I am” legs-crossed, pixie demeanor masks how she loves to stab people in the back – mostly Elizabeth – and twist the knife. Plus she keeps saying she worked in a Gentlemen’s club. There is no such thing as a Gentlemen’s club. They are called strip clubs.

Wednesday, October 01, 2014

The NFL is on track to have another 50-arrests-year for five years in a row. One more 50- arrest year and they will have to change their name to the Notorious Felons League.

Reminiscing about my Winnetka, Illinois education. School all through (Nee) New Trier East was hard. If it got close to easy, they made it harder. Some teachers were card-carrying sadists.
Being the genius I was as a youth, I thought it was cool to rebel against their authority. Thrown in was the fact that I thought my status as a National record-setting decathlete would take care of any such trivial problems as my horrific class ranking. Bottom third. 
A torn hamstring in football ended that misconception, so I went to college in that most rarefied land of academia, Long Beach. Long Beach's main contribution to society is the Swap Meet.  
Spent my first six months at Long Beach City and I won’t even get to how bad the classes were. It was not due to bad teachers, there were students taking classes who could barely read. The teachers had to adjust accordingly.
The next year at Long Beach State was only a little bit better. For the most part, the students were surfers who could read, but were too stoned to read. It is almost with conviction I can say that I doubt I studied more than an hour a week.
Besides, I was living in a dorm as one of the few males at the Brooks Institute of Fashion Design and Modeling. It might as well have been the Brooks Institute of Wayward Hot Women With Rich-Daddy Issues Who Like Blonde-haired Decathletes.
Studying was not a priority.
But I would take English classes and there would be people in the class who could not write a paper. This is not to say they didn’t know how to properly footnote, or use the proper Intro, A, B, C, conclusion format. They could not write a paper. They wrote their papers like a kid writing to Santa Claus.
The next year, things improved dramatically when I got to UCSB.  UCSB at the end was challenging but more in terms of doing creative research projects and networking. By now I was studying maybe three to four hours a week.

Make no mistake, I am wildly proud of my UCSB diploma. It is a great school, and it has rubbed off on my daughter. Now she has it on her list. My education in Winnetka made it possible to make my UCSB experience so wonderful. 
For example, take the paper I wrote my senior year utilizing the teachings of communications guru, Marshall McCluhan, who invented the theory of “The Global Village.” The title of my thesis was:
“How Advances In Personal Computer’s Ability to Share Digital Data Will Create a Vast Communication Network Called The Internet.”
Just kidding.
Took a creative writing class and sat next to a funny, smart and popular volleyball player in my fraternity from Newport Beach. (He would go on to be a real estate tycoon) When the teacher assigned us F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” which I had read three times, he asked;

“Why would they write a book about that crappy Robert Redford movie?”