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Tuesday, October 31, 2006

It's Halloween!

And what better way to celebrate the holiday by showing a little dress up?

Everyone knows my affinity for female athletes, so here is a picture of Texas A&M basketball player D'Nika Romero . . .
And here is a picture of D'Nika in a different kind of uniform . . .
Any questions?

A Very SKerry Halloween

Would you like to be scared to death this Halloween?


This idiot was almost elected President of the United States.

On a related note, SYLG is removing the sidebar links of Crazy Politico, Pandy and Telebush because they are obviously too stupid to read my blog.

Monday, October 30, 2006

I KNEW IT!!!

(Hat Tip - Uncle Ray)

Prison Break LiveBlogging!!!

Okay, I'll jump on the first grenade.

In fifteen minutes (in the East, anyway), I will attempt the first ever Prison Break Central LiveBlog. Hopefully, more than two people will stop by and read my drivel.

And away we go . . .

Ten. It's A Magic Number

Kyle leading the offensive rush . . .

Forget three. My five-year old son’s new magic number is ten.

Yesterday, Kyle had his final soccer game of the season. (On Wednesday, there is a scrimmage for all of the five-year olds before they receive their trophies.) His green team – which they named the Eagles, God help them – played the yellow team. Before the game they were 6-1, after a heartbreaking loss the Sunday before. Being the quintessential kid, Kyle couldn’t care less about the frigid temperatures. He just wanted to play.

As soon as the game started, we knew it would be a decent match-up. No team had the upper hand for the first few minutes, until Kyle took a pass in his zone and ran the length of the field. He kicked the ball into the goalie’s legs, then grabbed his own rebound, and tucked it in for the score. Kyle, 1Yellow Team, 0.

After the half, Kyle started the play with a break up the field. He dodged one defenseman, and kicked the ball past the goaltender for his second goal of the game. Kyle, 2Yellow Team, 0. It was Kyle’s tenth goal of the season, and he celebrated in his usual way; by sprinting down to the other end of the field and giving me a thumbs-up.

Kyle’s team won the game by a score of 2-0, and they finished the season with a record of 7-1. Unbelievably, they took second place in the standings, since the black team went undefeated. I was proud of Kyle not because of the ten goals – although that was pretty cool – but because he played terrific defense during the season, and most of all, because he had fun.

Kyle’s next I-wanna-play-it sport, basketball, starts in four weeks.

And celebrating his second goal (center).

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Happy Birthday, Deathlok!

Today is Deathlok's birthday. So, if you want to wipe out a bunch of nerds, call in an air strike over South Jersey today. I mean, cripes, look at his cake!

Cry, Eagles, Cry!

. . . On the road to another loss!

Well, I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Rush Limbaugh was right. Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb is overrated. The Iggles lost to a Bryon Leftwich-less Jacksonville Jaguars team which literally ran the ball down my home team's throat today, 13-6.

In McNabb's defense, however, head coach Andy Reid has completely lost this team. Reid, who, in my opinion, is the biggest fraud in the league, is infamous for clock mismanagement and questionable play calling. Today was his coup de grace. After his team failed to stop the run at all today, Fat Andy held another one of his personable press conferences. These are always informative and intriguing, but today's was extra special: one word answers to almost every question.

Hey Fatty, when you get completely outplayed in your own stadium before a BYE week, maybe, like Lucy Ricardo, you got some 'splaining to do!

Will somebody please fire this man, post haste?

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Stupid Questions

Unions for employees of the two major Philly newspapers - The Inquirer and The Daily News - recently authorized a strike. Will anyone care and/or notice?

Has Bob Casey, Jr. - Pennsylvania's Democratic candidate for U.S. Senator - given anyone a reason to vote for him besides the fact that he's not Rick Santorum? And would a self-respecting person vote for someone because he's not someone else?

Did someone to check if The Man was streaking across Times Square in celebration of his Cardinals' World Series win?

Will my Finnish visitors appreciate another pic of figure skater Kiira Korpi?

Man's Weekend, The Finale

Sunday is (obviously) the final day of Man's Weekend. It's the day when we pick up the trash, vacuum the floors, and scrub out the vomit. Since my Saturday night consisted of Alabama Slammers and random shots, I didn't wake up until 11am - after most of the participants had gone home. Vinnie was the only one left: since he was my ride home, and finally had enough. "Come on, fatass!," was the call from my good friend. I rolled out of bed, took a bathroom break, and we were off.

Vinnie stopped at WaWa for provisions - the ride home takes about 90 minutes - so I got something solid to eat and a few bottles of Gatorade. I paid, walked to the car, took a sip of Gatorade . . . and felt it.

Did you ever feel the vomit coming up and realize that you couldn't do anything to stop it? It's not a good feeling. It's like scrolling down on one of Ssssteve's posts and seeing a picture of Helen Thomas (speaking of vomit). I ran out of Vinnie's brand new car and looked for a secluded place. I found one right behind the dumpster and . . . (insert sound of retching here). In between heaves you could hear the sounds of "Oh my God!" After a few minutes, I composed myself and meekly walked back to the car.

Suffice to say, the ride home was quiet.

I could see Vinnie occasionally glancing in my direction with the look of "don't you dare puke in my new car!" We were about five minutes away from my house when I yelled, "Vinnie, pull over!" He did, and I jumped out of the car for round two. This round was much worse. After a while, I slinked back into the car and finished the journey home, swearing - as all men do - to never drink again.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Link Fest 2006

* Like Han Solo, Deathlok now has a price on his head. That skinny bastard posted his MWE rebuttals here and here. Although his entries are (as always) entertaining, the second rebuttal offers a picture of everyone's favorite blogger. Even at 9am, I am one handsome devil.

It appears that someone violated the Golden Rule: What happens at Man's Weekend, stays at Man's Weekend!

* Captain Den throws some political support towards one local candidate here. After viewing his Hannibal stunt, you can see why he's Denny's guy.

* And for those of you who haven't noticed - and judging by the Site Meter, you haven't - Prison Break Central is up and running. Pity visits are always encouraged.

People I Hate

I hate minorities. The only people who have ever contributed anything of value to this country are white men and white women. And the only non-whites who have been recognized for “greatness” obviously stole their ideas from whites. Even though I work with many of these people on a daily basis, I refuse to let them back me up or save my life. And my regular conversations with them are a sham, a production for everyone else's benefit. Also, politicians like Michael Steele are obviously traitors to their race, and should be labeled as such. Go on, Uncle Tom!

I hate the poor and the so-called middle class. Who has time for these laborers and craftsmen? Who cares what happens to the little guy, the blue-collar worker, and the rest of the proletariat that infects this great nation? I am a police detective, and as such, I am a very, very wealthy man. I couldn’t care a whit about tax cuts and government programs designed to ease these people’s burden, even if they’re working. Screw you, President Bush: you should have taxed us all back to the Stone Age. I can afford it.

I hate the sick. I despise people like Michael J. Fox who parade their alleged illness in front of the media in an apparent cry for sympathy. I despise those who get the AIDS virus, even when it happens to infants. And I will not vote for Senator Rick Santorum, who has sullied himself raising money for those afflicted. It’s not my fault that they got sick, so why should I pay to make them well?

Finally, I hate homosexuals. They are an affront to the decent, American society to which I belong. They should not be allowed to marry. They should not be allowed to engage in civil unions. They should not be allowed to breathe my air. From this day forward, I will shun them, and ignore my close family member who is a member of this group.

I am a conservative, and the media tells me that this is how I think.

Man's Weekend, Part 3

Saturday, Day 3: Sweet Home Alabama

Saturday morning was a good morning. No nausea, no hangover. Guinness = good. Beach football was scheduled for 1pm, and it (as always) would be The Old Guys versus The Young Guys. For the first time ever, Vinnie, Badger, and I joined Deathlok on the Old Team. Ouch. The game started okay, with both teams scoring quickly. Soon after that, however, the ugly made an appearance in the form of my quarterbacking. I was at the helm for one series, which progressed as such:

First down: Deep end zone pass inches out of reach of Burnsy.
Second down: Incomplete pass to Sean.
Third down: Interception.

Hall of Fame, here I come. It got worse from there, as the kids trounced us, 10-3. At least Vinnie solidified his position as the laugh riot once again. He brought his kids' football, but it was so over-inflated (like me) that is was left on the sideline. The winds were brutal, and the football started rolling toward the ocean. I said, "Hey, Vin, your ball is gonna get wet." He shrugged it off, thinking he'd get it when the play got back to that end of the beach.

Never happened.

On top of the high winds, the tide was going out. Once the football hit the water, it took mere minutes for it to take off. By the time we got back to where the ball entered the sea, it was past the jetty - a cool fifty yards out. We started laughing at the thought of Vinnie explaining to his kids what happened to the ball. "Um, it's in a better place now. England." Hilarity ensued.

After the game, Sean, Badger, Vinnie and I were bored, so we figured we'd hit the bar early. (Time of day: 4pm). The Michigan game was on, and since I hadn't made an ass out of myself (yet) I'd order an Alabama Slammer. Or, as I usually (drunkenly) refer to it: a drinky-poo. The rest of my time at that particular bar is a tad hazy. So, we moved to the next bar - on the beach in Avalon, New Jersey.

The Slammers continued for yours truly. I mean, they were working fine so far, right? Vinnie then decided it was time to kick it up a notch with shots. We started playing a game where we'd quickly tap our hands on the bar, point to a guy, and he'd yell what we'd order. For example, after the clapping stopped, Vinnie would point to badger, who yelled, "Kamikazes!" It went on like this until closing.

In the interim, Young Sean, Vinnie, and I were outside on the boardwalk doing "crease-clearing drills." Sean played "goalie," while Vinnie and I tried to body check each other out of the imaginary crease. It got really rough, and folks inside thought there was a fight going on. Of course, we didn't feel a thing . . . until the morning, that is.

I'll post about the Dreaded Sunday tomorrow.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Justice Has An Anniversary

Today is the 125th anniversary of the infamous Gunfight at the O.K. Corral. After searching and reading information about the battle, the most unbiased account - in my opinion - comes from the Wikipedia page. Here's their version of the actual gunfight:

Before the fight Virgil was able to say "Throw your hands up, I want your guns", but eyewitness testimony from this point becomes divergent, depending on the bias of the witnesses. Independent non-partisan witnesses, including H.F. Sills and A. Bourland, would later say that the Cowboys did not at any time raise their hands in surrender. This point would be believed by the judge, and would provide the controlling data for his opinion that the Cowboys had not been murdered in the act of trying to surrender.

Wyatt Earp and his brother Virgil would state that both Frank and Billy had drawn their pistols from their holsters before any shots were fired, leaving the Earps no choice but to defend themselves. It is probable that at least Holliday fired early in the fight, hitting Tom McLaury with a shotgun blast. Ironically, Tom was probably not (by then) armed – although all evidence indicates the Earps and Holliday believed him to be. In particular, Doc wasted a precious shotgun blast on Tom, which would have been unthinkable in the presence of other men who certainly were armed, unless Doc thought Tom was equally dangerous.

Wyatt even thought (as he testified later) that Tom fired shots over his horse, but this was almost certainly Frank, using his own horse. (Tom had no horse, and in any case was hit early in the fight by Doc, and could not possibly have used a pistol after that.) Wyatt would later testify that he and Billy Clanton fired first in the fight, after Frank McLaury and Billy Clanton drew their pistols.

The "gunfight", which might more properly be called a streetfight, was fought in a vacant lot about 18 feet wide, but also in Fremont street in front of the lot. Most of the shooting was done at ranges of about 10 feet or less. The number of shots fired can only be estimated, and depends on who was actually armed. Estimates vary from 20 to 30 shots total.

Knowledge is power, kids.

Man's Weekend, Part 2

Friday, Day 2: Let 'Em "Pour"

Day Two started early, as we had an eleven o’clock tee time at Shore Gate Golf Club. After feeling queasy at the fees – Eighty dollars? Get out of here! – we trudged onto the rain-soaked course, which had more sand than Qatar. Thankfully, Vinnie continued his alcohol-induced exploits by drinking lots and lots of “Par Juice,” also known as vodka gimlets. A few holes later, he was playing demolition derby with the golf carts, and using “creative math” for his scores. By the end of the day, most of us were in the triple digits and laughing at yet another drunken Vinnie.

We went back to the house, where Vinnie screamed through another ice cold shower – the heat and electricity in the bungalow were kaput – and we prepared for the greatest bar ever: The Pour House. The Pour House is an Irishman’s dream; Guinness on tap, authentic Irish food, and a photo of an uber-hot nameless redhead near the front door. Friday nights are Pint Nights, and every participant gets a Pour House pint glass. I think Vinnie acquired a dozen of them throughout the years, and uses them as his good china.

At the Pour House, we suffered through another Flyers loss, but at least Vinnie and Badger were having a good time. A group of old bitties – they had to be at least 40 – came into the bar and took a liking to my jackass friends. Vinnie and Badger gave them the attention they so desperately craved, and although nothing happened, they made the old bats’ day.

As for me, I can’t remember how many pints of Guinness I downed, but I drove everyone home. For some unknown reason, Guinness rarely gets me hammered. The last we saw Badger and Vinnie, they followed the octogenarians to LaCosta. It was probably Geritol Night.

We're Not In Kansas Anymore

I just realized that it has been fourteen months since I posted a picture of the most beautiful woman in the Philadelphia media: traffic bunny, no, Traffic Angel, Dorothy Krysiuk.

Yeah, she's dreamy.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

A Gift For Kevin And Tyler

I know you're probably getting sick of the BSG shilling, but I saw this video on YouTube. It's clips of the first season alongside music from Rammstein. It's about three minutes long. Enjoy!

The More Things Change . . .

The more they stay the same. Philadelphia Flyers interim general manager Paul Holmgren held court yesterday with the Philly media, when the following exchange took place (H/T, The Philadelphia Inquirer):

Question: "Is goaltending an issue?"

Holmgren: "No. With John {Stevens} coming in, he has a meeting with Robert {Esche} the other day, and I know Robert wanted that. They said it was a good meeting. We'll see. We have two goalies and I believe they are both good goalies, but we have to sort it out."

Eh, what?

Currently, my home team has a record of 1-6-1, and is tied for dead last in the entire league! Goaltender Antero Niittymaki has a goals against average of 2.99. "Goaltender" Robert Esche has a goals against average of 6.50! (For those of you who are not hockey fans, that's atrocious.) And the new GM claims the team is not shopping around for a replacement netminder - even though the San Jose Sharks' Vesa Toskala is allegedly available.

The fact of the matter is that the Flyers' biggest issue is goaltending. And as long as the organization is in denial, the Flyers will remain in the cellar.

Man's Weekend, Part One

Despite what you may read over at The MoxArgon Group, I am not gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But, there seems to be some confusion about Man's Weekend that does not involve sexual orientation. Not that there's . . . never mind. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Man's Weekend was created by Deathlok and his brothers thirteen years ago as an escape from the women folk as well as a chance to get together with friends we don't see as often anymore. Every year it is held in Sea Isle City, New Jersey, where we usually tear up the town. The first MWE was an actual weekend, but since then it has been lengthened - for the less P-whipped of us - from Thursday afternoon through Sunday afternoon. In between bouts of binge drinking, we golf on Friday, play football on Saturday, and recover on Sunday. Sometimes we also hit the casinos in Atlantic City on Thursday nights. Despite what Mox thinks, there are no "I love you, man" moments . . . except when Vincent Antonelli gets really toasted.

Here's the first in a series of recaps from this year's festivities. The names have been changed to protect the drunkenly stupid.

Thursday, Day 1: The Jameson Effect.

Vinnie has a saying about Jameson Whiskey: "Everything is better after some Jameson." that slogan would be put to the test on Day 1. When we arrived in SIC, we jetted out to the worst bar on planet Earth: LaCosta. This is the same white trash bar that made me a clear-colored Alabama Slammer last year! (For those not in the know, Slammers are red . . . and yummy!) Any hoo, we started drinking and playing 3-ball for money. (That's billiards, not some quasi-sexual game of chance.) It was about this time that Vinnie started ordering the shots. First up: Jameson. He ordered one for The Badger and one for himself. I was the wussy, and deferred.

Fast forward a few hours. Vinnie and Badger haven't learned their lesson, even after I told them about the time I drank five shots of Jameson one evening - long story short, I parked on my front lawn. Not good. They continued drinking shots of Jameson, while Badger was also drinking vodka tonics. That's frakkin' hardcore, man!

Fast forward to just before closing. Vinnie and Badger just downed their seventh shot of Jameson. NEW LEAGUE RECORD! Badger - all 6'2, 140 pounds of him - was picking fights with the local toads, and Vinnie was arguing with Badger's brother Sean about the "shotgun" seat. We somehow escaped that decrepit Hooverville and arrived at the MWE staple: WaWa. (WaWa is the local food mart. The Philly area's version of The Circle K, I reckon.) The guys line up to order hoagies and other food-to-stave-off-vomiting when Vinnie declares it a race. Not noticing the disgusted looks on the workers faces - think Clerks - Vinnie anxiously awaits his order. Luckily for him, he gets his food first; the clerks used the If-we-get-this-drunken-idiot-out-of-here-soon-we'll-be-much-happier theory. Here's the best part:

Vinnie turns to us, holds up his sandwich in our faces, and yells at the top of his lungs, "LOOK AT IT! LOOK AT IT!! LOOK AT IT!!!" As if there was a prize for getting your food first. Yutz.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Al Bundy Would Be Proud

When I read a story like this, I think "job security."

Gun at pee-wee football: Sad lesson

Wayne Derkotch is charged with brandishing a .357 Magnum in a fight with a coach over his son's playing time. A referee also was arrested for his role in the incident.

Parent Wayne Derkotch, 40, began arguing with the coach of the Northeast Outlaws because he felt his son wasn't getting enough playing time. The argument escalated into a physical fight. Derkotch pulled a .357 Magnum revolver from his waistband, an action witnessed by others at the game.

How ironic is it that Derkotch's son's team name is the "Outlaws?" I don't want to get into a rant about football, but the fact of the matter is that in my experience both football coaches and many football parents are frustrated former players. And that is precisely why incidents like this happen in the first place.

My five-year old wanted to play, and I was on board . . . until I saw his pee wee coach. Personally, I don't think that five and six-year olds shouldn't be screamed at by some jackass pee wee coach. This guy had the temerity to punish his team with laps in full gear in August. The kids were dropping like flies. It's supposed to be about fun, not whether or not some kid will eventually make it to the NFL. Grow up.

(H/T - The Philadelphia Inquirer)

Best. Show. On. Television.

Yep, that would be Battlestar Galactica. Whit all due respect to 24 and Prison Break, BSG is quickly becoming my favorite series. So, why the hell haven't you started watching it?!!! Here's a clip from last Friday's episode. If you're not hooked after this, then you just may be a cylon. Enjoy! (Oh, and if you're a fan and haven't seen this week's episode yet, you may not want to view this. Yeah, Bill, I'm talking to you.)

Monday, October 23, 2006

Calling All Prison Break Fans!

Blogger extraordinaire and Friend of SYLG Little Miss Chatterbox has created "Prison Break Central" a blog dedicated to and for fans of the widely popular Fox program. The blog was created a few days ago, and we're still settling in. Although it's LMC's baby, I am also going to try and contribute with posts and such. However, since I am already posting unreadable drivel here and at Blogs4Bauer, we are looking for help at PBC.

So, if you're a fan of Prison Break and want to lend a hand as a contributor, just send LMC or me an e-mail or leave us a comment. Hurry now, so you can get in on the ground floor. Any help would be appreciated.

Do We Get Paid For This Overtime?

Well, I am officially (mentally and physically) back. Rachel's reign of terror is over, and I am back to rule with an iron fist. (Thanks, Rach, I appreciate your helping a brotha out.) However, before I could catch up on some sleep and wring out my liver, we had a hockey game last night. My team is currently 0-1 after losing last Sunday in overtime.

Despite the MWE hangovers of me, Vinnie, and Fish (Badger was a no-show), we came out fairly strong in the first period, taking the lead after Randal Graves first goal. He ended up with three goals and an assist . . . bastard. The second period was more of the same, although the other team started to become chippy, with a slash here and an elbow there.

In the third period, we came out really flat, and gave up the tying goal toward the end of the game. It was now 4-4, and we were heading into overtime, a word which makes my teammates and I wretch. The first half of the OT was chippy, but neither team had any really good scoring chances. Late in the OT, their winger rushed up ice, and Fish "met him" by the boards. Unfortunately, the opponent won the "meeting" and passed the puck toward our net, where his linemate tapped it in. We lose, 5-4. Damnit.

Personally, I looked like crap. I couldn't capitalize on any chances, and was only so-so in our defensive end. Basically, I suck. Our next game is Sunday night. Hopefully, we won't see another overtime.

(BTW, the Man's Weekend posts will be up shortly. Stay tuned!)

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Kickers I Hate

Thank you very much, jerkass!

Yeah, yeah, I'm back; and I'm really pissed off! I was going to wait until all of the alcohol has completely left my system, but I had to do this first. As I posted here, my "33 Pool" at work is in full swing. So, far, no one's team has hit the magic number yet; although there have been a few "almosts."

So, I'm recovering from another fabulous Man's Weekend by watching the Indianapolis Colts rout the Washington Redskins (sorry, Dave) when I notice that the last Colts score gave them 33 points. Thanks to way too many Alabama Slammers, the neurons didn't fire for a few minutes, but I finally realized "Oh crap, if they don't score again, I'm getting a $600 pot!"

Enter Adam Frakkin' Vinatieri.

It was late in the fourth quarter, and the Colts were winning the game, 33-14. It was over. The 'Skins weren't coming back to win this game. Nevertheless, Colts coach Tony Dungy sent out Vinatieri to kick a meaningless field goal. Asshat. Vinatieri lines up, gets set,and kicks the ball. At the same time, Peyton Manning tries to call timeout. The ball misses wide right, and I'm golden.

Or so I thought.

The idiot refs recognized Manning's timeout, and gave Vinatieri another shot at the field goal. He lined up, got set, and kicked the damn thing through the uprights. $600? Not so much. To add insult to injury, my delightful co-workers called me at home to laugh. Bastards.

And There Was Much Rejoicing

I have a feeling that Man's Weekend just became even more joyous:
Flyers shakeup: GM Clarke resigns, Hitchcock fired

PHILADELPHIA (AP) -Flyers general manager Bob Clarke resigned and coach Ken Hitchcock was fired in a major shakeup Sunday, with Philadelphia off to its worst start in more than 15 years.
As Wyatt said, "The sad fact of the matter is that as long as Bobby Clarke is the GM here, the Flyers will flounder in mediocrity."

Rather than try to channell Wyatt, I'll just do this instead:

Props for the image: Adam Hart-Davis/DHD Multimedia Gallery
http://gallery.hd.org/


-rachel

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Just in case I'm out late...

Ok, technically, it's Saturday Back East. Day three of blog sitting: accomplished.

I've posted a picture of a chick in a bikini.
I've done my first "People I Hate" post.

What's left... sports?

Ok, hockey? Well, I lost interest when Dominik Hasek got traded away from the Sabres.

Baseball? I'm still mad at Steinbrenner for the whole Billy Martin thing.

Football? I gave you a picture of a cheerleader, I'm done. Besides, it's hard to follow the Bills when you're on the other side of the continent, you don't have cable, and the local team actually sold out all their home games. I had a better chance of seeing the Bills when the Cards still played at ASU Sun Devil Stadium... And it hasn't exactly been a year worth bragging about.

Ah, NASCAR! As some of you may know, I'm in a NASCAR pool. Numbers (1-43) are picked randomly, and you root for the driver who starts at the same position as the two numbers you were given. It's all based on qualifying. If I get 1 and 43, and Junior gets the pole and Jeff Gordon starts 43rd, that's who I am rooting for.

If your drivers finish first or second place you win something.

This week?








Denny Hamlin and Jeff Green.

Hamlin's still in the Chase and he's had a top ten at Martinsville, one top five at a short track. Green has also been in the top ten there, plus two top fives in short tracks.

Now the big question is whether I'll sleep through most of the race since I'm getting up at 0-dark-thirty tomorrow for the poker run. I never have been and never will be a morning person.

Aw, hell no.... The race starts at 9:30 a.m. my time on Sunday?

Someone let me know if either Hamlin or Green gets first or second. I'll still be sleeping.

-rachel

Friday, October 20, 2006

People Rachel Hates

I spent the whole day trying to think of people I hate and I couldn't come up with many specific names, or at least more than one you all would recognize. But there are certain types of people...

People who want to commit suicide but try to get someone else to do the hard part... the killing

Whether it's "suicide by cop," someone who gets so drunk they drive half-blind on the wrong side of the expressway, or someone like this teen in Atlanta who texted a countdown to her ex-girlfriend right before she drove her car into someone else's (killing a mother of three), I have some advice: find a shrink, get some meds, check into a hospital, but leave the rest of the world out of your own inability to cope with life.

Don't leave a police officer with the memory of having had to kill you, or innocent families devastated by the loss you selfishly forced into their life. There are plenty of people in the world who have been through hard times in life and found a way to cope. It can be done.

If you refuse to believe that there is help out there for you or hope for things to get better, don't drag innocent people into your path of self-destruction.

People who sue when their family member was killed after being tasered

You've seen the articles. Guy was drunk and lunged at a cop or guy was acting rabid and grabbed a knife. Guy gets zapped with a Taser. Guy dies. Deaths by Taser don't happen often, but when they do, it always seems to get a lot of attention in the press and are inevitably followed by a lawsuit.

Of course, the lawsuit usually claims the guy was stone cold sober, was asleep, or was hugging his three-legged and blind pet bunny Fluffy while clutching a bouquet of daisies. The witness accounts seem to have vanished into thin air when the lawyer was spinning the tale of woe and grief writing the lawsuit.

I see it this way: the police are trained (correct me if I'm wrong) to use the least deadly force the situation allows. They consider the place where the altercation is taking place (things like how using mace in a bus is a bad plan). Then they act. There's no way to tell if someone is off their anti-psychotic meds or has a heart condition in the split second between when attacked and responding to the attack.

Maybe the people who hire the lawyers should think of what would have happened if the cop with the Taser had only had a gun... Or maybe the guy with the heart condition shouldn't have lunged at the cop.

And where would a PIH be without a reference to:

Ted Kennedy, undermining Republican presidents since 1983

According to the new book, The Crusader: Ronald Reagan and the Fall of Communism, written by Paul Kengor, a political science professor at Grove City College,
...(Sen. Edward) Kennedy proposed that Andropov make a direct appeal to the American people in a series of television interviews that would be organized in August and September of 1983, according to the letter.

"Tunney told his contacts that Kennedy was very troubled about the decline in U.S -Soviet relations under Reagan," Kengor said. "But Kennedy attributed this decline to Reagan, not to the Soviets. In one of the most striking parts of this letter, Kennedy is said to be very impressed with Andropov and other Soviet leaders."

In Kennedy's view, the main reason for the antagonism between the United States and the Soviet Union in the 1980s was Reagan's unwillingness to yield on plans to deploy middle-range nuclear missiles in Western Europe, the KGB chief wrote in his letter.

"Kennedy was afraid that Reagan was leading the world into a nuclear war," Kengor said. "He hoped to counter Reagan's polices, and by extension hurt his re-election prospects."
I'm sure as he remembers it; he was trying to negotiate better trade relations so he could get a better price on vodka.

Someone tell me how a state that keeps re-electing this git is not ranked worse than Arizona on the "Stupidest States" list.

-rachel

Thursday, October 19, 2006

The coup d'etat has been cancelled

Gentlemen, (and I use that term loosely)

For all of you that are afraid that I'm going to turn this haven of manliness into a celebration of butterflies, flowers, and half-dressed men of the Marine Corps, fear not.

For starters, Wyatt locked me out of the blog settings. (He's not as dumb as he looks.)

Also, I have a certain level of respect for all most things masculine. Like when I go to a guy's apartment or house, I wonder if it is rude of me not to leave the seat up when I'm done. I mean, it is his bathroom.

In a show of respect for the empire that Wyatt has built here, I will maintain the level of testosterone and debauchery of which he is so proud. But I'll do it my way.

So I'd like to introduce you to Jamie.


Jamie is the captain of the Buffalo Bills Cheerleaders, the Jills. She recently graduated from the University at Buffalo with a chemical engineering degree, has been dancing since the age of three and now teaches at the school at which she learned... oh wait, you've all stopped reading and I'm talking to myself.

Anyway, you can rest easy tonight, I'm not turning this into a shrine to Hello Kitty.

-rachel

I'm Outta Here!

By the time you read this, I will already be drunk.

That’s right kids, today is the unofficial start of Man’s Weekend. And in true MWE fashion, Deathlok, Vincent Antonelli, The Badger, and I will be leaving for fabulous, sunny Sea Isle City, New Jersey by noon. So what, it’s a four-day weekend; you civilians do it all the time!

In my stead, the lovely and talented Rachel (from Pay Heed to the Geek) will be at the helm until Sunday night. This place could use a woman’s touch – or so she tells me – so I expect to come home to a pink blog template adorned with floral arrangements and “i”s dotted with little hearts.

Now I don’t need to remind you to treat your substitute blogger with the same respect you give me. So, call her a racist and make fun of her weight. See y’all on Monday!

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Stinking On Ice


"Goalie" Robert Esche "makes an attempt" at a save.

I received a call last night from my friend Kevin from Arizona. The crux of the call went like this:

Kevin: "Yo, did you see that (Flyers) game?"
Me: "No. I'm working tonight."
Kevin: "THEY SUCK!"

Curious, since Kevin is the biggest Flyers fan that side of the Mississippi.

Today, I get an e-mail from Grimack entitled, "I'm ready." The crux of that e-mail was that Jack believes the time has finally come to get rid of General Manager Bobby Clarke. Curious, since Jack is a Flaming Homer when it comes to the Flyers.

For those of you outside the Philadelphia area, the Flyers lost to Peakah's Buffalo Sabres by a score of 9-1. That is not a typo. The hockey score was 9-1! The question remains, however, that if my two friends who rarely bash the Flyers are of the wagon, then is there anyone still holding on?

My guess is no.

The Flyers are currently 1-4-1 this season, and although it is very early, there are little signs that this team will get any better. The goaltending is arguably the worst in the league. Hell, Robert Esche - the worst goaltender ever to put on a Flyers uniform - criticized coach Ken Hitchcock before the game . . . then abruptly let in NINE FRAKKIN' GOALS!!! Here's an idea, Robert: if you stink, try not to criticize those who don't stink as much as you do.

The defense is the human equivalent of turnstiles, and even Denny could strap on skates and blow by this bunch. With the exception of Joni Pitkanen, the rest of the defensive squad is useless as teat on a nun. (Sorry, but it's true.) Unfortunately, the offense is just as inept. Who is going to score the goals on this team besides Forsberg and Gagne? I have been asking this question since August, and I have yet to find the answer.

Thankfully, our General Manager, Hero of the 70's, Bobby Clarke is on top of things. He addressed the goaltender dilemma by signing . . . um, well, no one to fill the gaping void. At least he addressed the defense by signing Brian Leetch. Wait, he didn't do that, either. Oh, right, he signed a few slow, gooning power forwards that have as much place in today's NHL as Paris Hilton does in the Vatican.

The sad fact of the matter is that as long as Bobby Clarke is the GM here, the Flyers will flounder in mediocrity. And lifelong fans like Kevin and Grimjack will continue to become alienated from an organization that deserves better.

HWC Fantasy Football: Week 6 Recap

One of my countless fantasy football leagues involves many of the bloggers that you know and love (or despise, depending on your viewpoint). We face off on Yahoo!, and this week it's my turn to recap last week's action. (Unlike my counterparts, I have also linked their blogs. At least the ones I know about. Hell, any traffic is good traffic, right?)

* Gridiron Wookies - 76, The Ball Sackers - 51

How do you remain undefeated when five of your players have zeros for the week? Cheat. Or lose. In my case, we lost. The only thing my team sacked was a bag of potato chips while the Wookies tapdanced on my team's proverbial face.

MVP - Steve Smith (GW). Welcome back, Mr. Smith! It's been a long time.

Bantha Fodder - Mushim Muhammad (TBS) - Guess he wasn't facing east this week.

* Webcats - 60, Robots Eat Babies - 49

Ya know it's over when LaDamian Tomlinson has a 30-point game. Luckily, REB's Damon Huard made a valiant effort - with a single point. Swell.

MVP - LT (Webcats). I mean, 30 frakkin' points!

Bantha Fodder - Peerless Price (REB). -1 point? The Price is wrong, bitch!

* bRight & Early - 86, RFTR - 74

Tough matchup here, but b&E stuck it to RFTR, thanks in part to Matt Hasselback and Joe Horn's highlight reel performances. RFTR struck back with Tiki Barber and Big Ben, but he stopped short. "That's a good move."

MVP - Joe Horn (b&E). He so Horn-y.

Bantha Fodder - Zach Hilton (RFTR). Nice zero. With a name like Hilton, he probably missed the game due to an STD.

* I Hate Hillary - 52, Hot Wing Chump-ion - 43

IHH had two zeros and still managed to beat the HWC. Ouch! Kudos to IHH's Bernard Berrian, who is possibly the only Bear with a point this week.

MVP - Reggie Brown (IHH). Wow, an Eagle helping someone win a matchup? What's this world coming to?

Bantha Fodder - Jake Plummer (HWC). Negative points. Well played.

* Tax Dodgers - 64, Fmragtops' Spewers - 40

This loss puts Fmragtops at 1-5. Obviously he's trying to go Old School Saints here. This game is unique because Fm played with a guy on a BYE week (Marvin Harrison) and lost to a team playing TWO guys on a BYE week!!! If that isn't a kick in the jimmies, I don't know what is.

MVP - Corey Dillon/Ahman Green (TD). Both on a BYE week, and the Dodgers still won!

Bantha Fodder - Antwan Randle-El (FS). Nice -2, jerkass!.

* San Jose Arrowheads - 39, Mr. Wolf Cleaning Service - 2

No, that "2" is not a typo. That's exactly how many points Mr. Wolf earned this week; thanks in part to Rex Grossman's suckass performance on Monday night. These two teams combined for a total score of 41 points. Really.

MVP - Are you kidding?

Bantha Fodder - Take your pick.

* Gumbo - 78, Rose Hill Reddogs - 61

Gumbo wins this one - and moves to .500 - even with a QB (Trent Green) that has been hurt for weeks. Keen! RHR had a great game from the Steelers defense, but it wasn't enough in the end.

MVP - Denver's Defense (Gumbo). Only because I can't spell Coles' first name.

Bantha Fodder - Dante Hall (RHR). I guess he doesn't run back punts anymore. Nice point.

* Hector Vex-O-Trons - 55, The Columbia CRUNCH - 34

Note to TCC: when you start FIVE players on their BYE week, the results will probably not be to your liking. Unless you plan to move the team to Miami like they tried to do in Major League.

MVP - Jake Delhomme (HVOT) with a 15 point week. BAM!

Bantha Fodder - Tom Brady (TCC) who was sitting home watching the other games.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Dirty Dozen

Today is my not-as-important anniversary. (Cue the streamers and party balloons.)

On this date in 1994, I entered the Philadelphia Police Academy as a fresh-faced recruit. I was ready to save the world, catch the criminals, and single-handedly clean up the mean streets of Philadelphia. It was one of the happiest days of my life, because I was living my dream, and doing what I wanted to do since I was 14 years old.

What a difference twelve years makes.

Don’t get me wrong; I still love my job - and Detective is the best rank in the department – but that youthful idealism left town eleven years ago. Instead of worrying who my partner for the tour will be, now I worry if any officer works with a partner anymore. In twelve years, the number of uniform personnel dropped substantially. So much so, that if the public found out about it, there would be riots in the streets. Of course, our last two mayors (Ed Rendell and Jon Street) and an inept City Council have classified "hiring new police officers" somewhere between a smoking ban and wireless internet.

Additionally, the criminal justice system in this town is a disgrace. Incompetent judges are the rule rather than the exception. District attorneys and detectives cannot even win a conviction with a signed confession, and gun violators get nothing more than a slap on the wrist. The homicide rate is climbing at an alarming pace, and instead of blaming the suspects, those in power are blaming the guns. As if they shoot people by themselves.

The fact of the matter is that in this city, crime will always be rampant, poverty will always be pervasive, and people will still kill each other for looking at them the wrong way. It reminds me of a terrific line from the television series “The Equalizer:”

“I sometimes think that if rains hard enough, it will wash away all of the filth; but it never does.” And it never will.

Warning Shots

I just got back from the dentist after getting a small cavity filled - my first since I was about, oh, ten. And, like Kramer, the whole side of my mouth is numb. "I let the expletives fly!" Not really conducive for good posting. So, here's a hodge-podge of goings on around the 'sphere:

My former partner Jerry wants me to write him a recommendation for a new police job. (Insert evil laugh and hand wringing here).

Denny swears his allegiance to 80's metal, and explains the "Parkwood Tuxedo."

GOP and the City exposes a true Democrat scumbag.

Dave at Garfield Ridge crosses the border into Frogville. Hilarity ensues!

And finally, I am due to recap the week in fantasy football. GOP and College hasn't sent my reminder yet. DAMN YOU!!! I'll get that up - the post, that is - after work tonight.

Oh, and for those of you who want to see a terrific, although scarce, film, check this one out:

Finding Ways To Lose

I really want to like the Arizona Cardinals. I really do.

My friends Kevin and Deanna live in Tucson, and I have a few blog pals out that way, so when the Cards are on television, I try and catch the game.

Why, oh why couldn't I have been working tonight?

The Cardinals - the best 1-5 team in the league - coughed up a TWENTY POINT LEAD and wound up losing to the Chicago Bears by a score of 24-23! Sometime after the half, the vaunted Bears defense showed up, and pummeled Cards QB Matt Leinert into submission. Ever the gamer, Leinert still marched his squad down the field in time for a game-winning field goal . . . only to see the usually perfect Neil Rackers miss it wide left.

On paper, the Cardinals have a lot of talent. With a roster like Leinert, Edgerrin James, Anquan Boldin, and Larry Fitzgerald, they are going to be a very good team.

Tonight? Not so much.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Idiocy In Action

My town is chock full of morons.

From today's Philadelphia Inquirer:

"Residents of West Raymond Street rushed outside yesterday afternoon after hearing a single gunshot. But the one-way street in the city's Feltonville section was quiet, until LaWanda Bailey burst out of her boyfriend's rowhouse onto the porch.

"My baby's dead, my baby's dead," she screamed in anguish. "He shot himself."

Moments earlier, Tylib Bailey-Hankerson, 3, better known as TaTa, had picked up a .45-caliber Glock handgun he found in the bedroom and pointed it at his head before squeezing the trigger, city police said."

Oh wait, there's more:

"The gun was in the bedroom on a piece of furniture next to the bed, Capt. Ray Convery said. Depending on the model, a .45-caliber Glock semiautomatic handgun can weigh nearly two pounds when fully loaded."

So, lets' recap: the mother's boyfriend thinks that gun safety consists of leaving an unlocked, loaded gun on top of a piece of furniture in an unlocked bedroom? That's just swell. And how long will it take Ms. Bailey to hire a lawyer to sue the gun manufacturer, instead of kicking her idiot boyfriend to the curb?

I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Bailey, but your child is dead because you and your boyfriend are incompetent.

The Man's Weekend Pre-Game Show

This year's MWE participants. I'm in the beanie.

Deathlok has a terrific summary of my friends' greatest tradition: Man's Weekend (or MWE). This year's event begins on Thursday - or Friday for the truly henpecked - and lasts until Sunday afternoon in fabulous sunny Sea Isle City, New Jersey. RT, you better lock your doors and wear some earmuffs!

The itinerary is as follows:

Drinking. (Guinness.)
Golf.
Drinking. (Guinness and Alabama Slammers.)
Football.
Drinking. (Guinness, Alabama Slammers, and shots of Jameson's.)
Hockey.
Drinking. (Guinness, Alabama Slammers, Jameson's, and Vodka.)

That is all.

Stand By For This Political Message

(Cue happy music.)

In this topsy-turvy, ever-changing, dangerous world, America needs a leader who will get things done. A man who will support the little guy, while striving to keep big business strong. A man who will keep the hippies at bay, while embracing the children in loving, caring, Cajun arms. That man is Fmragtops.

(Cue evil music.)

Of course, his opponent - the evil, fire-breathing Hillary Clinton - despises children, and has worked to allow abortions well past the 55th tri-mester!

(Cue happy music.)

Meanwhile, Fmragtops has promised to cut your taxes, and continue to help our ever-growing economy.

(Cue evil music.)

Hillary Clinton? The only thing she continues to help grow is her ample rear end.

(Cue happy music.)

As President, Fmragtops will keep terrorists at bay, and rogue world leaders on a tight leash.

(Cue evil music.)

His opponent cannot even control the crazed libido of her "husband," whose conquests usually wear a leash. Bleech!

In November 2008, there is only one choice for President: Fmragtops.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

GAME ON!!!

An adequate representation of my defensive play.

Our 2006-2007 winter ice hockey opened tonight, and damn if we didn't almost eke one out. Our team - now named after our sponsor, Harrigan's Bar and Grill. God, I hope I spelled that right - faced off against one of the better teams in the league, the Bruins.

And from the start, it was a mess.

Many of us showed our rust early, and thanks to my rusty defensive skills - or lack thereof - I personally gave up the first goal. The puck was shot out of the opposing zone and I went after it. From behind I heard the swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of a much faster skater, who got to the puck before me and zipped it past our goalie, Boris. (Love that name for a goaltender!) Before we knew it, we were down, 2-0. Swell.

Not long after their second goal, my brother (aka Randal Graves) blasted a shot past the Bruins' goalie, making the score 2-1. As unluck would have it, the Bruins snared another goal minutes after Randal's. The score was now 3-1 in the third period. A timely opposing penalty helped Badger get on the board with a nice goal, and with 5 minutes left in the game, we were down by one.

With about a minute and a half left in the game, we pulled Boris for the extra attacker. Thirty seconds later, we tied the game at three with 40 seconds left. Nice! Overtime started, and almost immediately the ref called a penalty on one of my teammates. Vinnie and I went on the ice for the penalty kill, and as Randal skated off, he said to me, "Don't you f**king leave your man at the point!" Randal gets a little competitive. Well, I didn't leave my man, but in the end it didn't matter: the Bruins scored on a rebound, ending the game with a 4-3 victory.

If there's a positive to be taken away from this, it's that the Bruins are one of the better teams in the league, and we were rusty. Personally, I thought I played lousy, and had no points, and was a -3 defensively. Ugly. Oh well, our next game is Sunday, 10-22 at 10pm. Can't wait.

Blitzkrieg!

Kyle leading the post-game handshake.

Were you ever embarrassed of your kid, but in a good way? That was our conundrum today at Kyle's soccer game. His team faced off against the gray team, and from the outset, we knew it was gonna be a rout. Most of the kids on the other side were smaller than Kyle's teammates, and not all that coordinated. Still, you always hope for a good, competitive game.

What we got was a blowout.

The light blue team could never get the ball out of their zone, and turned it over more than Penn State. HA! Before we knew it, Kyle's friend Jake had a natural hat trick, and the green team was up 3-0. Kyle's coach was afraid of running up the score, so he put Jake in goal, and told Kyle to play defense.

Nice try.

Kyle played defense until the ball came to him, then stole it, and ran the length of the field for a goal. He did this two more times. Add another goal from Brendan and one from Travis, and you'll get the final score: 8-0. Ouch!

As a parent, I was proud of Kyle's effort. He played well on both sides of the field. But as a fan, I was a little embarrassed, and was worried that the opposing team's parents thought we were running up the score on purpose. We weren't, and imagine how difficult it is to tell a 5-year old not to score. It won't work. Oh well, his team is now 5-0-1, and Kyle has 8 goals on the year. Best of all, he's having fun.

(Now if we can pull out an 8-0 victory in our ice hockey season opener tonight . . . )

PSU DOA

Ouch.

A swarming Michigan defense battered Yoda's, er, Joe Paterno's Penn State football team last night, and came away with a 17-10 victory. In the process, Penn State quarterback Anthony Morelli (pictured prone, above) was knocked out of the game after a brutal sack. (Giggle)

As is the yearly custom, my brother-in-law Fish and I bet colors for the game. If PSU won, I'd get dressed up in the blue and white. When Michigan won, Fish has to don the maize and blue. Hmm, I think next he would look terrific in Michigan colors during Man's Weekend. (Giggle)

Saturday, October 14, 2006

For Those Concerned . . .

Erik is feeling much better today. The doctor said he had a virus, and that wreaked havoc with his immune system. Although he is still tired, his fever is down, and he’s out of the woods. Thank you for the well wishes.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Answer Me This, Caped Crusader

I have considered your questions and found them to be sufficient. My answers? Well, not so much. Eh, I tried. Here's the unfunny. Bon apetit.

Captain Den asks, "Is Captain Den the real brains behind your blog? Captain Den RULES!"

Captain Den, using the word "brains" when referring to my blog is like using the word "hot" when describing Hillary Clinton. If you want to take credit for this literary abortion, be my guest. Me? I'm claiming to be the real brains behind Mr. Skin!

JimmyB asks, "Why didn't you make the first Gunbloggers Rendezvous? You were missed And I mean that in a totally not-gay way."

Jimmy, I wish I could have attended. Unfortunately, I am a very busy guy. In a given calendar year (365 days), I spend the equivalent of 245 days working, 60 days in court, 30 days playing ice hockey, 14 days on vacation, and 15 days stalking Uber. That leaves me one day, which I just spent answering your question. Happy now?

RT asks, "Is it true that the good Cap'n is the mysterious love child of Frank Rizzo, Sr and Anna Verna?"

RT, oh there's no mystery about it. The terrific - yet butt-ugly - former Philly mayor and the average - yet even more butt-ugly - current City Council President are indeed Denny's true parents. Sadly, when they saw how obscenely ugly their spawn was, they dropped his bassinet into the toxic Delaware River. Years later, the build up of pollution created the sarcastic, balding, wisp of a man you read every day.

Peakah asks, "What do you suggest those of San Francisco pack away when the first missiles leave North Korean shores? (No, 'fudge' is not an acceptable answer.)"

Peak, damnit, you took my answer! I would suggest they drop their pants, grab their ankles, and wait for the Taepodong missile, as usual.

Pandy asks, "Why don't I want to blog lately?"

Pandy, it's because you currently live in Italy. The last time the Italians did any work, they were marching through North Africa in 1940.

Vincent Antonelli asks, "Please feel free to send Elle over. Tell her I like heels and I can supply my own cuffs."

Vinnie, that's not a question, yutz. Unfortunately, the fact that you like to wear heels is not an endearing quality to either Elle or Emma Laaksonen. Sorry.

See? She looks really pissed off.

Tony B asks, "Wyatt, you're a Philadelphia detective. You ever get to nail any Kelly McGillis hot Amish chicks in the course of your work?"

Tony B, John Book was a homicide detective. They make the most money, and thus, get all the chicks - even Amish ones. Me? My best options are a 75-year old woman who just reported that someone in Sweden bilked her out of $20,000, or a 19-year old crackhead who just stabbed her mother for five dollars.

Grimjack asks, "Is it true that the American Medical Association recommends prostate exams for men over 40 twice a year? My dentist says it's true, but it seems excessive."

Grimjack, your DENTIST told you that? Cripes, what does that guy use for dental floss and flouride treatments?

Fitch asks, "Does JimmyB really mean that in a not gay way? I think he's lying."

Fitch, just because Jimmy has a poster in his bedroom of Seigfried and Roy, every single Sweatin' to the Oldies DVD, and can't stand up after seeing Simon Cowell on the television doesn't mean he's gay. Of course, it doesn't help, though.

Bobby asks, "What is this rash? Will it ever stop itching? Is it socially unacceptable to scratch my groin with my PR-24 in public?"

Bobby, have you been out with Rachel? HA! Burn!! (Kidding, Rach!) The rash is probably clymidia. I hear you can get it from reading First With Flair. It will stop itching eventually, but it's gonna be a long, tough road. I'm with ya big guy. And no, it i not socially unaceptable to scratch yourself with your police baton. I usually use my handcuffs, though.

Sssteve asks, "Wyatt, do you weeble, wobble, or do you just fall down?"

Sssteve, I weeble when I am skating on my bum knees. I wobble when I have three Jameson's shots after a tough loss. And I fall down (laughing) when I am reminded about your cross country trip to buy a lemon. BAWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Steve asks, "Is A-Rod to blame for Cory Lidle's death? (If he didn't choke, the Yankees would still be in the playoffs . . .)"

Steve, of course not. President Bush is to blame. Lidle's plane crash is part of his master plan to win the midterm elections through Gestapo fear tactics. The WTC attacks were implemented by rogue factions inside the White House, just as this "accident" was. Write down the date of the crash (10-11-06) and turn it upside down. Coincidence? I think not.

By the way, Lidle isn't dead; he's in the Federal Witness Protection Program.

People I Hate

Thankfully, I am a pissy mood today, so this will be more bile-filled - it's not a word? I don't give a rat's ass! - than usual.

On August 29th, I wrote about a piece of shite detective and the arsehole judge that cleared him of domestic assault. Here's the follow-up.

Today I got a text message from my former partner. He was at MPO - yearly in-service training - and asked, "Guess who's sitting in front of me at MPO?" I said I had no idea. He replied, "Smith." (Smith is not this piece of detritus' real name, but since he was acquitted of domestic assault - wrongly, in my opinion - I won't use his real name.)

I was stunned.

I replied, "Unreal!," and he confirmed the sighting. My former partner - and Partner #1 - were both on this domestic assault case with me, so they know this toad when they see him. I was going to ask why Smith was in training less than two months after his acquittal, but it immediately hit me:

Smith has already been reinstated.

Normally, when an officer is arrested/fired, it takes close to two years for said officer to get his or her job back. It appears it only took Smith 45 days. When I asked my partner why Smith was back so soon, he replied, "He's connected."

Oh, that's frakking great! This guy beats his wife to a bloody pulp . . . oh wait, he was acquitted by a Philadelphia Municipal Court Judge, so this whole event never happened! How silly of me! This guy gets arrested, stands trial, and is reinstated before the ink of the verdict even dries. Where is the outrage here? Where are the calls for a review of this judge (Judge William Austin Meehan, by the way.) Where are the usual cop-hating writers in the local media when they actually have a story with some teeth? Where is the justice for the victim here? Hello? Bueller?? Anyone???

Meanwhile, Smith is sitting in training, gloating about how he beat the system a second time. He will get all of his back pay. He will get his former position and division of assignment. He will get to giggle at his estranged wife the next time he sees her.

His wife? She will probably be found dead somewhere when this toad thinks the third time is the charm. I hope Judge Meehan can sleep at night.

Fahrenheit 104

That's not the camera. Erik really is the devil.

My two-year old son Erik had a fever of 104 this afternoon.

We took him to the doctor's office, and they said he has a viral infection. Everyone is home now, but it has been one hell of a day.

And, I never got to the gym - two days before our first hockey game. Swell.

I'll post later on tonight. I promise.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Stupid Questions

How can Nancy Pelosi guarantee a tax cut if the Democrats are voted back into power when she and her cohorts voted against President Bush's tax cut?

Why is it that every time a caller is informed that their assigned detective is not in the office, they immediately ask, "Well, maybe you can help me?"?

Why is Zach Braff famous?

Is it bad if I hear a clicking sound in my knees while doing leg extensions?

Do all NHL defensemen snare such hot wives?

Angelica Bridges: Mrs. Sheldon Souray

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Holy Crap!

Former Philadelphia Phillies pitcher Corey Lidle was on the plane!

"Yankees pitcher and registered pilot Cory Lidle was among two people killed when his small plane crashed into a Manhattan apartment building today, officials said, in an incident that evoked memories of the terror attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.

Though early reports said there were four fatalities in the crash, Mayor Michael Bloomberg announced during an evening news conference that two fatalities were aboard the plane and there were no fatalities in the exclusive Upper East Side condo building that was struck at the 30th and 31st floors." (Hat Tip - Newsday)

Clarke Bars Flyers' Progress

Somebody see if Vinnie Antonelli has hanged himself.

According to General Manager Bob Clarke, the Philadelphia Flyers are not going to sign free agent defenseman Brian Leetch as previously rumored. The former Rangers phenom is currently sitting home, while the Flyers defensive core – normally average at best – is riddled with injuries and incompetence.

As usual, Clarke downplayed the rumors:

“It was the agent who released it. We called the agent and said, ‘Look, Rathje might have a long-term problem. We’re just inquiring if Leetch intends to play hockey anymore.’ There are other agents who called us and said they had defensemen, but that’s as far as it went. The agent released it, not us. We haven’t even spoken with Brian.”

So, basically, Clarke has no interest in signing a perennial all-star and guaranteed Hall of Fame defenseman. And people wonder why this team hasn’t won a championship in thirty years.

The "Specter" Of Guilt

File this in the “It’s funny when it happens to them” file.

“FBI agents have reviewed U.S. Sen. Arlen Specter’s financial disclosure statements as part of an investigation into a Specter aide whose husband’s lobbying firm secured millions in federal funds with Specter’s help. The agents are ‘conducting an investigation into allegations of possible criminal misconduct’ by Specter staff member Vicki Siegel Herson, according to an FBI letter sent in August requesting an internal staff report on the aide.” (H/T - The Philadelphia Daily News)

That’s a shame. I would hate to see a man who has done so much good for Pennsylvania become embroiled in an ethical controversy. Good luck, Arlen. SYLG is pulling for you.

Jerk.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Hey, Kids! What Time Is It?

Submit your questions, or I'll send Elle to see you.

Why it’s Q&A time again, of course! You just know you want some freshly-picked heaping helpings of wisdom, and now you’re going to get your chance. Simply post your questions in the comment screen and I’ll have your brutally unfunny answers by Friday. No topic is off limits, so get crackin’!

Bring Out Your Dead!

Captain Den at the Fireman's Gay Pride Parade.

It appears that Captain Den wants a blogosphere ass-kicking the likes of which no one has ever known. Why? Check out his post here.

Oh, it's so on!

An SYLG Commercial Break

Good afternoon, comrades. My name is Kim Jong Il and I am the unquestioned exalted imperial leader of North Korea. During my benevolent reign, I have battled Yankee imperialist dogs, our sub-human cousins in the South, and those bastards from across the Sea of Japan. These battles will all in end in victory, but I am here to tell you about my greatest battle: the battle against male pattern baldness.

What, you thought this squirrel’s nest atop my head was natural?

There was a time when I thought the slaves in my harem would never appreciate me as a man. Then I called the Hair Club for Dictators. I saw what terrific work they performed on my fellow dictators Saddam Hussein and Hugo Chavez, and said to myself, “That could be me!” My hair care fuehrer Adolph explained the procedures involved and even gave me a list of hair to choose from. I chose American buffalo, simply for the irony. The hair is real, and it can be styled to whatever specifications you desire. My personal favorite it the thinning pompadour; drives the slave girls wild!

Whether I’m enjoying a romantic dog dinner for two, or over-compensating for my defective Dong missile, I can now do so with confidence. You can even swim with it! Thank you Hair Club for Dictators!

Monday, October 09, 2006

More YouTube Chocolatey Goodness!

I realize that I am the foremost shill for Battlestar Galactica, but I couldn't help but post this clip from the series' first episode. Check it out and tell me you don't want to see more.

Columbus Day Thoughts

Christopher Columbus: Super-Fraud.

Today is Columbus Day, and wops across the nation are celebrating their favorite explorer. A true Aye-talian who had to beg and scrounge for expedition money from Spain! A true Aye-talian who "discovered" a new continent, even though he thought he was India. (Because the folks of the Caribbean look exactly like Hindus!) A true Aye-talian who is given credit with discovering America, when Denny will tell you that Leif Ericson - or was it Leif Garrett? - got here much earlier.

Ya know, one time I stumbled over an opened packet of Pez. Maybe someone will have a parade for me.

Whenever I think of Columbus, I am reminded of that line in Seinfeld: "Oh, like they wouldn't have found that anyway."

Gym Dandy

Your buff author in just a few short weeks.

Everything hurts.

Today I followed the lead of the missus, and joined the Northeast Racquet Club & Fitness Center. Unhappy with the taunts of "Fatty McButterpants" and "Captain Neckfat," I figured it was time to do something about it instead of stuffing my gullet with Ho-Ho's. Mmm . . . Ho-Ho's! The wife joined a few weeks ago and loves it, so I climbed aboard (the gym, not the wife).

Today, I hit the weights and the elliptical machine. This contraption is like a stepper on crack, and the body liked it. My knees? Not so much. I slinked home and instead of being able to take a 16-hour nap, the wife decided it would be a good idea to take the kids to the park. The boys headed for the playground, while I mumbled, "Oh look. A bench!"

I know I need to get in shape for hockey - which begins on Sunday night. I know I need to lose A LOT of weight. I know it's not going to be easy - even though I have an appointment with the personal trainer next week. (Please be a babe! Please be a babe! Please be a babe!)

And I hope I stay motivated enough to go to the gym at least three times a week.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Eagles 38, Dallas 24

"Well, let's not start sucking each other's d*cks quite yet." - Winston Wolf, Pulp Fiction

Okay, the white trash Eagles fans that overrun this damnable city will be even more obnoxious now - as if that were possible - after today's Eagles win. Yes, Donovan McNabb had a terrific game. Yes, Terrell Owens was a non-factor. No, the Eagles are not a Super Bowl team.

Look, I realize that they are 4-1, but really, who have they beaten? Houston? Green Bay?? San Francisco??? Are you frakkin' kidding me? All three of these teams rot, and they almost lost this game today.

The fact of the matter is that the Eagles have a fairly easy schedule, and unless they pull wins out against New Orleans, Jacksonville, and/or Indianapolis, I will continue to expose their fraud-dom.

Brian Vickers: A-Hole

Well played, Mr. Vickers. Ass!

Brian Vickers is a douche. In today's UAW-Ford 500 at Talladega Superspeedway, Vickers single-handedly screwed Dale Earnhardt Jr and Jimmie Johnson. And he didn't even give them the common courtesy of a reach-around.

Vickers, who shuttled between the leaders and the also-rans, was in prime position during the race's final lap, behind only Junior and teammate Johnson. As Johnson pulled around Junior for the lead, Vickers followed . . . then abruptly hit Johnson's right rear quarter panel, sending his teammate's car plowing into Earnhardt's. Both Earnhardt and Johnson spun wildly into the infield, and - to my disgust - Vickers won the race.

Look, I'm not saying Vickers should have just followed his teammate to a second place finish, but considering both Earnhardt and Johnson are fighting for the Nextel Cup title, he should have shown a little more restraint. It's frakkin' Talladega! He knew what would happen when he rammed Johnson's car like that. It's a rookie move for a guy who has been in the big leagues for a few years.

Dumbass.

Today, We Mourn A Ballclub

What the hell happened? I turn around for one minute and my Yankees turn into Greg Norman???

"I find it very hard to see the logic behind some of the moves you have made with this fine organization. In the past twenty years, you have caused myself, and the city of New York, a good deal of distress as we have watched you take our beloved Yankees and reduced them to a laughing stock, all for the glorification of your massive ego. " - George Costanza, to George Steinbrenner - Seinfeld

Saturday, October 07, 2006

As If You Needed Further Proof

. . . that Battlestar Galactica is a kickass show, Tricia Helfer (the blonde hottie pictured below) was in attendance at last night’s Los Angeles Kings/Anaheim Ducks hockey game. Nice!

Guaranteed To Make The Guys Squirm

From today’s Philadelphia Daily News:

Lenwood Robinson and his gal pal, Juliet Clark, had a war of words in Robinson’s Southwest Philly apartment recently. Cops said the argument came to a head when Clark, 49, whipped out a knife and fatally stabbed her 76-year old lover 15 times.

“[C]ame to a head?” “[W]hipped out a knife?” This article was written by a woman who obviously didn’t realize her poor choice of words. Keep reading.

Clark then directed her fury to Robinson’s nether regions and used the knife to chop off his penis.

Reply for the guys: “OUCH!!!

Investigators said they have yet to recover his missing member.

I think it’s safe to say that people should avoid any barbecues in Southwest Philly this weekend just in case.

Friday, October 06, 2006

The Cylons Are Back!!!

The new season of Battlestar Galactica starts tonight at 9pm on the Sci-Fi Channel. Giddyup!

UPDATE: I just finished watching the season premiere, and as my friend Bill would say, "OH. MY. GOD!!!" Damned good episode. Damned great cliffhanger. Dave has a terrific wrap-up here, but there are a few spoilers, so beware.

People I Hate

Kim Myers

Kim Myers is the wife of Philadelphia Phillies pitcher/criminal Brett Myers. On June 23, Kim Myers was allegedly beaten by her drunken 6'4", 240-pound husband on the streets of Boston in front of several witnesses. Brett Myers was arrested that evening, but the Phillies - class organization that they are - allowed Myers to pitch the following day. It looks like they were ahead of the curve. To quote my co-worker Dominic, this "filthy, stinking hole" went before a Boston judge yesterday and asked him to dismiss all charges against her scumbag husband. The judge did so, and once again Brett Myers gets away with allegedly beating his wife. Hey Kim, the next time your husband kicks your ass, don't bother calling 9-1-1, okay? Idiot.

The Philadelphia Flyers

Okay, I don't hate them, per se, but I hate they way they played in their NHL opener last night. I mean, losing to the lowly Penguins - without Evgeni Malkin - by a score of 4-0? Are you friggin' kidding me??? If this is the hockey that the Flyers are going to play, I'll keep rooting for my Rangers this season.

The Neolithic Era

This damned period of time cost us Quizzo this week! The question was a true or false one concerning whether or not there were small human societies during the time. (Like I'm gonna know that after four pints of Guinness!) We guessed wrong, and spent the time laughing at Badger, who told us thmeaningaeaning of "Neolithic."

"Neo, meaning new. And Lithic, meaning Of The Lith."

God, we're brilliant!

Thursday, October 05, 2006

The PPD Mourns

Obviously, police work is a stressful job. After years of witnessing robberies, rapes and homicides, a lot of officers have a hard time dealing with the pain. On top of that, the normal stress of everyday life takes its inevitable toll. Sometimes, officers rise above the turmoil.

Sometimes they do not.

This week, two Philadelphia police officers took their own lives. Officer Jim Denardo was attending yearly training on Tuesday. When his class was dismissed for lunch, the officer went to his vehicle, drew his service weapon, and shot himself. He was pronounced dead at the scene. Denardo was 38 years old.

Officer Thomas Hook was found dead in his home on Sunday of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound. Hook was 31 years old. He left a suicide note that stated in part, “Don’t mourn my death. Celebrate my life.” This tragedy is especially hard because Tom was very good friends with my partner, and I went to grade school and high school with his sister Mary.

Please keep both of their families in your prayers.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Calling Down The Thunder

Run, you cur! Hell's coming with me, you hear?!

Like any obedient Louisiana resident, Fmragtops called my insult, and kicked it up a notch here. Like any New Orleans resident, Fm will soon be flooded under a massive wave of retribution. The line forms here for steaming bowls of justice!

Filthy Half-Truths About Fmragtops

* Fmragtops has naked pictures of Governor Blanco under his pillow.

* Fmragtops quit the sheriff's department because the Reno 911 shorts weren't short enough for him.

* When the NOLA levees broke, Fmragtops handed out life savers to the drowning victims. Not preservers, the candy rolls.

* Although he openly roots for LSU, Fmragtops is, in fact, an Auburn fan.

* Not exactly a member of MENSA, when he heard that Mayor Nagin wanted a "chocolate city," Fmragtops started gnawing on the municipal building.

* Fmragtops is a contributor for Blogs for House, because he has a non-sexual crush on Omar Epps.

* He'll never admit it, but Fmragtops has every one of Michael Moore's documentaries on VHS,DVD, and Beta!!!

* Fmragtops is a member of The War for Oil blogroll because he likes it on his sandwiches.

* Fmragtops' presidential campaign hit a bump in the road when supporters found out he had been e-mailing Congressman Mark Foley.

* And finally, Fmragtops embarrassed his friends when he told them he thought "grits" was slang for a woman's breasts.