Inexperience Is No Excuse

One of the many joys us parents are able to derive from our children is a continual feeling of superiority. You can stand back and laugh at their inability to execute such simple tasks as tying their shoes or solving for pi. Anytime the world is kicking your butt, just come home and challenge your kid to a game of SpongeBob branded "Operation" and quickly establish that indeed there is one person in the world that you are better than. That is of course until you reach that sad, sad day when your child reaches their physical peak any you have long since passed yours.

This blog post is sponsored by the Every Brown Bear Gets a Sandwich Fund.

Getting Off Lightly

This goalie is darn lucky that wasn't Elizabeth Lambert participating in the shootout. For taunting her with cartwheels, she would have intentionally kicked the ball in his face, then ripped off one of the posts of the goal to beat him with it, and then charged into the stands to roundhouse punch his mother. So consider yourself lucky that you only got embarrassed.

This blog post is sponsored by the Brown Detective Agency.

What's Your Damage, Elizabeth?

Yes, this particular news item is now about a month old but I am not what you would call trendsetter. But I repeat myself. Instead, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to stash this piece of video away in a convenient location for continued reviewing. Our dear Elizabeth Lambert exacted on the BYU soccer team what just about every high school girl imagines doing to her female classmates (but doesn't). Or so Hollywood tells me (that and actual life experience). To see this level of visceral girl-on-girl violence outside of the theaters or an episode of "Cheaters" is an uncommon a site as a well-acted ABC Family Channel Show. There were two parts of the video that I found the particularly interesting but were left relatively unmentioned in the resulting blanket TV reaction. The first was when a BYU player responded with the old "Scoreboard" rejoinder to the Lambert onslaught (very last scene of the below clip). Always a solid comeback to issue to a rampaging sore loser because it is sure to make them angrier. The second was a flailing slap-kick delivered after booting the ball away. Although the hair pull was the action that got most of the attention, for some reason it was the final exchange in the below video that really captured my attention. The hair pull was so quick while this seemed like a more prolonged, directed effort with intent to cause harm. Sure, the fact that this event involved pretty young women led the majority of the attention - anyone with a women in their life knows women can be everything a man can be including hypercompetative and physical. I just can't believe she didn't get kicked out of this game. In the end, though, I take my hat off to Elizabeth Lambert. You finally got people to care about a female sporting event.

This blog post is sponsored by Clampett Oil.

And Starting at First Base, Aaron Carter

I have always been a sucker for All-Star games. Despite the fact that the games last half the day and no one under 50 watches the sport on a regular basis, I still make time to take in baseball's Mid-Season Classic every year. Despite the fact that the NFL has to typically go to its seventh choice at each position to get enough players to actually field a team, I willingly extend my football watching by a weekend for the Pro Bowl. Even though I know that the entire sport is rigged by the league and gamblers, I will even channel surf to the NBA All-Star Game. (Sorry, nothing can convince me to waste my time on the NHL defenseless shoot out) There is something about seeing all of those famous faces in unique arrangements that has always tickled my fancy. Stockton to Drexler. Ozzie Smith turning the double play with Ryno.

My fondness for the athletic mash-up carries over to other arenas as well. As a kid I always enjoyed those cheesy 80's TV movies that were cast with actors from that network's current line-up of shows. Spotting the next familiar face as it popped up was sport. The same goes today for any surprise TV and movie cameo's. Seeing the big star pop up unexpectedly in a flamboyantly out of character supporting spot (Madea Goes to Star Fleet Academy). Quality doesn't matter (Cannonball Run), I still get joy out of it. The only version of this phenomenon that I can't get behind is the reality show variation (Dancing with the Stars is the NHL of the celebrity all-star game). I have no interest in actors being themselves. They are only interesting as empty vessles for the manipulation of writers and directors.

A final variation on this theme is the name-dropping song which brings me to the below posted videos. Both feature catchy toons centered around random assemblages of real and fictitious characters (although how Aaron Carter warrants the same air space as luminaries like Chuck Norris, Batman, and Abe Lincoln is beyond me). In case of the first video, I can't stop myself from repeating the chorus of "Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny" in my head on a continuous loop. In the case of second, the gratuitous Jake Gyllenhaal appearance is the perfect cap to the completely hilarious send-up of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

This blog post is sponsored by Speaker City.

Even Brett Favre Knows What a Putz He Is

If you are going to rot multiple professional football organizations from the inside while robbing them of millions of dollars, at least you will be given the opportunity to further pad your bank account by making light of the miserable circumstances that you created for fans and teammates with your out of control ego and fading football skills in the service of hawking flatscreens for a soon to be defunct retail outlet.

This blog post is sponsored by Yu Wan Mei.

All About Me

From the outset, I have made no bones the nature of this blog. It is intended to be nothing more than a compilation of self-indulgent navel gazing. This is likely the reason why it has taken me nearly a full calendar year to realize that other members of the genus Homo have happened across my ramblings. But now that my eyes have been opened, it is time to salute these fine upstanding citizens for taken note of the internet's highest quality detritus.

Since I began cataloging poor quality videos that amuse only me, I have received 7 comments on this corner of the internet wilderness. One was a spam comment that I deleted while 3 more are were from relatives that pitied my sad, lonely, and ignored musings and threw me a bone. But then I put up a post about the upcoming G.I. Joe movie. Surprise, surprise, I hit a sweet spot for the blogosphere. 2 of the comments are even relevant to my post. So thanks Marc and Kyle. You have proven that every now and then, the needle can be found in the haystack, even when the haystack is larger than the great state of Alaska. And specifically to Kyle, you have obviously put some thought into your comment and in the spirit and tradition of great internet debate, I respectfully deem your opinion the moronic regurgitation of an obviously mentally feeble individual in need of institutionalization. Who will feed you when you mother passes on? Actually, I see what you are getting at but I stand by my concerns over casting. My problem with Duke isn't so much about age but the blandness of the actor. And despite your contention, I still feel Cobra Commander needs the gravitas that only comes with age. But I am prepared to be and hope to be wrong.

In honor of my most popular post, I present video from Cobra Commander's ill fated run for President. I imagine his plan for a weather control device would have been as beneficial to the future of this country as the Iraq War and the latest version of a stimulus package. Oh, and the Oscars were completely unwatchable.



This blog post is sponsored by Prescott Pharmaceuticals.

And the Oscar for Pretentiousness Goes to....

Way back in the early days of the internet, I used to maintain an unvisited outpost of self-indulgence. A lot like...no...exactly like this blog (hence the reason the original site and the blog share the same name). One game I used to play purely for my own enjoyment was selection of personally sanctioned movie awards. The only qualification for consideration for my prestigious awards was that the film had to make a minimum of 100 million dollars. My motivation in doing this was that I found the Oscars to be less and less representative of reality. I also found them less and less watchable but that is another story. It seemed that as the movie industry began to loss that aura of exclusivity and superiority, the individuals responsible for the Oscars felt they needed to try harder and harder to separate themselves from the rabble. To distinguish themselves. To justify their existence. To establish that they maintain some singular skill and knowledge that the proletariat do not possess. The only way to do this of course is to summarily dismiss any movie that garners popular acclaim in favor of monotonous, ponderous, navel-gazing art house fare that rarely plays outside of L.A. multiplexes. Where once the Oscars honored true classics that are still beloved and watched today, the present day Oscars select movies that were never actually viewed by people who weren't paid to do so and are forgotten to time immortal as soon as the poorly watched telecast ends. Pollack, Atonement, Babel. These aren't good movies. Under any circumstance. They're not even watchable. And the grand tradition continues this year. Despite incredibly popular pieces of art like WALL-E and Dark Knight, we get nominations for Milk and The Reader. Sure, popularity does not equal quality - Twilight and Harry Potter any one - but if a piece of celluloid is really supposed to represent the best work from a period of 365 days, shouldn't someone actually be willing to watch it? As a final proof of how bad this year's nominees are, I give you the following video. The largest moneymaker of all the nominees isn't even original. It is a puffed up, padded, and pompous rip off of a much better movie. The Raspberry Awards have more relevance now a days than the Oscars.

On a side note, given the lobbying, pandering, and slandering that goes into a successful Oscar campaign, you almost have to wonder if this video is the product of the makers of Gran Torino or something.

This blog post is sponsored by Binford Tools.

One For The Other Thumb

The great Santonio Holmes accomplished two grand feats tonight. First and foremost, he brought home the Steelers sixth world championship, putting them in front of the coked-up Cowboys and the nancy boy Niners. Second, he kept us from a world that would call Ben Roethlisbeger a Super Bowl MVP. It is really disgusting how lazy the Talking Heads can be when it comes to this perfunctory responsibility. Just give it to the winning QB no matter how he actually played (Exhibit A and B - the Manning Brothers) regardless of how they actually played or, when the QB is a vanilla non-celebrity, give it to the team's media darling and pre-game talking point (Exhibit C - Trent Dilfer and Ray Lewis), again, regardless of what actually happened on the field. It is like the only information these guys had to go on was the final score.

"What - the Ravens won? Well, I bet Ray Lewis had a lot to do with that. He had to. He is an incredible force of nature. At least that is what the teleprompter is telling me. That and he will kill me."

In honor of tonight's hero, I give you the following video. I found it pretty interesting when I first saw it. It details a part of the country that few people see and where Santonio is from. Abject poverty buried in the swamps of Florida. Just an hour or so from one of the richest zip codes in the country, these small towns exist as if they are in another world (say a third world). Of course, you can't be sure how accurate all the "facts" of the story are. In today's world of manufactured news, a good story trumps truth every time. No one doubts that this little nowhere ville is a hot bed of football talent, it is the tale of the rabbit chasing that I have my eye on. I would like to believe it is just as it is reported (in the sense that I like deeply rooted traditions that have real history and meaning - not in the sense that I like poverty and drug addition). But something in the back of my head says most of it is a production for the camera. About as genuine as the tryout episodes of American Idol. If there is one lesson we can take away from this story, it is don't be the bunny.

This blog post is sponsored by the Paper Street Soap Company.

Here We Go

I am willing to risk jinxing it in favor of showing my supreme confidence that Big Ben will not do his typical Brett Favre impersonation and the Steelers will be the defacto league champion by the end of the day (Does it really matter who the NFC puts up - the Super Bowl happens today at 6:30). The only thing that gives me pause is that all of the talking heads seem similarly convinced that the black and gold are moving on and anytime all the talking heads are convinced of something, it invariably doesn't happen. Despite that misgiving - Ladies and Gentlemen, your soon to be six-time Super Bowl champions, the Pittsburgh Steelers.

This blog post is sponsored by Callahan Auto Parts.