Teh Random Ramblingz Part Deux

10 Things That Don’t Really Relate to Sports or Anything Else. Suck it, Editor/s.

1. Hilary Clinton.

Does anyone else think that she’s doing a fantastic job as Secretary of State? Maybe the bar was set very low by #4. $10 says this baby voted for Fred Thompson in the primary. Not that you should ever follow my gambling advice. The funny thing about Hilary is, most people dislike her, even if they agree with her basic policy positions. Why? Women don’t want to be her, and guys don’t want to be on her. Would this baby be punching Sarah Palin? Probably not – he’d be capturing the moment in his mind for a late-night wank, like the rest of us. Don’t pretend like you haven’t whacked it to Palin – all FaF readers should be saying, in unison, you betcha I’ve whacked it to Sarah Palin. I might be doing that right now.

2. I love the Rockets. I love drinking. I love women. I love college.

Scola looks different out of his work clothes.

That’s still the catchiest song of all time, and perhaps the worst. So Rex is doing his thing last Friday night (being a hipster and acting too cool for everyone, while still partaking in the cliches that he pretends to abhor) and he runs into Battier, Scola, and Down Under David Andersen at some place called The Anvil. Now, I got out of “the scene” when Drink Houston was still cool (and yes, that time once existed), so I can only assume The Anvil is a Red Door-type place. I don’t regret not wasting the last decade of my life trying to be a Robert Earl Keen song (choose any of them, really), but every once in a while someone runs into Rockets out on the town and I get extremely jealous. A few years back a friend spent 30 minutes talking to Cuttino Mobley about watches. El Rat chatted up Chuck Hayes last year. There was a girl we knew in college who was a Kelvin Cato groupie. And now this Triple Dip? I can’t think of 3 better Rockets to see out on the town. Battier would be a great guy to hang out with, and I’ll probably end up volunteering for his political campaign one day. Scola would be fascinating to watch to see what type of girls he could pull in and/or how many would mistake him for Russel Brand. Andersen seems like a goofy guy who would spill drinks all night and accidentally elbow girls in the face, causing them to bleed Mutumbo-style. Would one night with the Rockets (no homo) be worth a decade of the bar/club scene?

This is a variation of the “would you give your left nut for…” question. For example, would you give your left nut for one night with Jessica Alba? I say yes, and before your mind goes to the gutter, let me clarify that we’d play the staring game all night. That’s the sexiest video of all time, red tube be damned.

3. Tiuana Rogers will cut your white ass.

Listen, you don’t have to have watched the Fedor-Brett Rogers fight. It’s a decent fight with a good knockout at the end. But the reason I’m linking to it is this.

Wow – she actually gets her bounce on. The Rogers couple scare the shit out of me – he is a dangerous pugilist, and she is, shall we say, “ghetto fabulous”. Here is how it goes down – Sunday morning and you’re driving to HEB to pick up some steaks, and you see a great parking spot. You’re about to pull in but then an Escalade riding on dubs cuts in front of you. Enraged, you start giving the woman a hard time, and she says “motherfucker, my husband will cut your heart out and eat it”. Then you say “bitch, you crazy”. Then her husband, Brett Rogers, jumps out of the passenger side. You recognize him *because you watched the video* and try to apologize and get away at the same time. Having none of it, he smashes through your drivers side window with his head (The Program-style), pulls you out of the car by your nose, wrings your neck like a chicken until your head actually pops off, drinks your blood, and then cuts your heart out and eats it, with a side of squash . It could happen. They are a dangerous duo.

3.5. Matrimonious Synergies and the Time-Space Continuum.

We at FaF haven’t talked nearly enough about the Odom-Kardashian wedding.  Maybe that’s not possible – it’s like logarithmic functions that have limits – you can approach the limit and get infinitesimally close, but never hit it. Anyway, like moths to a flame, The Random Baby Momma and I actually have a common interest. I just walked by the TV and she is watching Khloe and Kourtney Try to Become Famous without a Sextape (or whatever their show is called). So we had a convo about the Odom-Kardashian prenup, thanks to the journalistic expertise of espn.com’s truehoop. It seems like the type of prenup where you’re not 100% convinced you’re not going to need it, know what I’m sayin? Back to the point, I’m not comfortable with this synergistic crossover – you’re not supposed to have anything in common after you get married, you just stay married for the kids. That’s the rule. This “our interests overlap” business is like Timecop where the same matter can’t occupy the same space at the same time. It’ll fuck up the time-space continuum.

4. Condi Rice is The Juggernaut.

I actually have nothing against Dr. Rice – she was put in a tough spot and did the best she could. Here is why I bring her up – a friend of ours, who shall be called “Myan Riller” for anagramtastic purposes, lobbied to give the valedictory speech for the UH Law School graduation a few years ago. The keynote speaker was the recently disposed Dr. Rice, fresh from being outed from the White House.  Here was the speech he was planning to give: “Condoleeza Rice and I have something in common. We’re both looking for jobs.”  That was the entire speech. Fantastic. Sadly, The Man held him down and he was never able to give that speech. The Gettysburg Address. Lil Wayne’s Behind the Music Interview. The Nothing to Fear but Fear Itself speech. I’m a Man, I’m 40. Obama’s speech on race last year. And the 2006 UH Law School Valedictory Graduation Speech. Alas, it probably goes down as the greatest speech never given.

5.  People Who Aren’t Americans Talk Funny.

Listen, the puke isn’t that funny and the keyboard cat is so July. What I want to know is – exactly what product is she hawking? A huge vision test like the type optometrists have? Is there a market for such a product? Crazy Danes. Or Sweeds. Or wherever she’s from. Those non-Americans sure do like some weird stuff.

5.5 Don’t be a douche. Watch this trailer.

I don’t care if you “don’t video gamez”. If you have big red-blooded hairy American balls, they just tingled. If you don’t, then get the hell off FaF. Unless you’re a hot chick (or a dude living in his parents’ basement pretending to be a hot chick).

6. Best Dance Ever. Bring it back.

Time to bring it back, people. There are at least 3 of you getting married in the next year that I know of. You know what that means? Time to bring the Carlton back. It needs to ascend into the pantheon of wedding dances, along with Grease Medley, the Chicken Dance, YMCA, and We Are Family.  Let’s start a viral movement (is it uncool if I say that outloud? does that make it anti-viral?) to start doing the Carlton at every wedding and knock the Macarena out of the DJ rotation forever. For. Ev. Er.

7. Movember Heroes.

Whomever these dashing gentlemen are, their lip magic points out a mustache axiom. There are two directions one can go. The gentleman on the left showcases the “dastardly 1950s villain” look. The gentleman on the right flaunts the “IT guy / pedophile / New Jersey bookie” look. The point is, mustaches are a binaural state – you can do one or the other, but there is no in between. Consider this your due diligence for Movember.

8.Anyone else notice that 75% of the Indiana Pacers are lilly-white?

That might not be the actual 2009-2010 Indiana Pacers team photo. But it might not not be, either. And who did they draft with their first round pick? The whitest white boy since Big Country Bryan Reeves. You know, Reginald Blackstone Tyler Hansborough. Psycho T up on that goooooooal! Watch him dunk and watch him poooooost!

The best part is the little brother that interrupts the production to get him some pizza or candy from the basket.

9. Semi-Retirement FTW.

So less than a week after negotiating a golden shower parachute with Rex, life is good.  As it turns out, this semi-retirement was an excellent judo-esque misdirection to do what I want to do, namely talk less about sports and more about myself. I didn’t plan it out this way, but when a gift horse looks you in the mouth, you do it. The horse. You do the horse.

See, when El Rat (with Rex’s proxy) approached me about joining FaF, I said no because I don’t like sports that much. I like the Rockets a lot and the Texans a good amount and wish the Coogs the best but I’m certainly not a Donkey Show Coordinator-esque superfan. I can’t name the Coogs’ O-Line. That should get me banned from FaF, but too late – double jeopardy.

So I said no to El Rat and he seemed surprised because all we do is talk about sports and girls. But that isn’t because my universe of interest is limited to those two domains, it is because he doesn’t care about the failure of the IMF to promote economic opportunity in poor countries. Please note that “developing countries” is the PC term, but it is bullshit because most of those countries aren’t developing for shit. “3rd world countries” never made sense to me either because I don’t know what a 2nd world country is and quite frankly the world is too complicated for a taxonomy with 3 superficial levels. Poor countries are just poor. And now your eyes are glazing over just like El Rat’s, which is why I originally said no. I finally said yes when the negotiaion reached 7 figures and have enjoyed every minute of it, and we’ll get back to sports, but don’t think you also won’t get a lecture on the role of microfinance in poverty mitigation.  I’ll put them at the end of the posts.

I’m the old cranky guy with the corner office for which everyone is waiting to retire, but instead I’ll keep dictating my memoirs to a secretary half my age and ambulating around the halls looking for an ear to bend about the good old days. You kids have no respect for authority. Back in my day, we called everyone “sir” and didn’t wear our hats indoors. Common manners, you see? Now with your twatters and your tubegubes and your nudie pictures on your electronic typewriters, you have no manners or sense of decency. Hhmph.

10. Psycho T Reginald Blackstone is starting a fantasy basketball league.

Even though the season has already started. As great as this sounds, I’d feel pretty guilty micromanaging a fantasy basketball team when I can’t even stick to a bare-bones posting schedule for FaF. If anyone wants my proxy/slot, email me with your best offer. I guess you could just ask RB directly, but the middleman needs his cut, know what I’m sayin? Grease the wheels of capitalism – it’s patriotic.

10.a. If you can’t be a jeopardy champ, you can at least be a turkey bowl champ. That seems to be a much less exclusive club.

We haven’t been sued in too long, so I’m not citing any of these pictures.  Until next time.  Random G up on that gooooal!  Watch me dunk and watch me poooooost!

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