Month: September 2014

Stream of consciousness from Steelers vs. Ravens –

Thankfully the NFL network quit showing the games so I can watch at home.  BW3 revenues are down across the city.

What exactly is a defenseless receiver?  Aren’t they always defenseless?  Next year they’ll have to pillow fight to knock the ball loose.  If I was dead, I’d be rolling in my grave!

My comedy buddy Jake Iannarino and Ravens QB Joe Flacco look alike…in the face.  If you see an athletic 6’6″ comic, take a pic.  Most comics have more physical flaws than a circus freak show.

Sports announcer may be the easiest job ever.  You read stats and act like no one else saw them flash across the screen.  I couldn’t do it though – I can’t talk for 3 minutes without cursing.

If the Steelers pass rush was a Halloween character, it would be Strawberry Shortcake.  Lame.

I hate the Ravens’ logo.  It has 14 colors and looks like a European flag.  This is America!

Can the announcers stop saying Baltimore had to bounce back from Ray Rice?  He was suspended for this game before being cut, they have three other backs, and no one is crying for him.  They’re not brave, they’re playing football.

Well, it’s a blowout.  Luckily, I have beer to get through this blowout and the horrible fall TV previews.  Scorpion and Madam Secretary?  Clear my schedule!

Ray Rice is garbage.  That’s easy to figure out, not that a video was needed – strangely everyone saw him dragging his lady out of an elevator…mild reaction.  Did anyone really not put two and two together?  So he’s out of the league.  Now to point out the rest of the idiots.

Before I get all pissed at the NFL, let’s keep in mind Ray Rice is walking around a free man.  Anyone in the legal system think a professional athlete bare knuckling a woman might warrant some follow up?  I got a ticket once for driving through high water that cost me $115.  Oh I’m sorry, he went to a counseling session.  I’ll keep that in mind if I punch some granny for cutting me off in a grocery store line.  “10 years for assault?  No thanks, your honor.  I’ll take an anger management class.”

The NFL.  Wow, did you bone this one.  You make players wear pink shoes for breast cancer for a month, but dole out a two game suspension for Raging Bull Ray.  Lesson for the players – don’t do steroids, take free stuff in college or celebrate after a score.  Drink and plow into a pedestrian, beat up a girl, be involved in a stabbing?  You’re good, as long as there’s no tape.  It’s worked for Jim Brown.  He’s smacked around more ladies than a New Orleans pimp, yet he’s just now doing a little vacation in jail.

Part of the problem is the social media aftershocks from a 24 hour news cycle.  Everyone is rage pissed, but in reality if you are the NFL commissioner, just hold your breath.  Someone will do something soon and get you off the hook.  The Atlanta Hawks owner said some racist things, but NBA owners being racist is soooo June 2014.  We need something new to be pissed about!  Seriously though, NFL, 2 games for assaulting a woman is pathetic.  You could have saved a lot of face with a real penalty, like the local prosecutor issued.  Oh wait…

I don’t really drink wine.  I have drank wine, usually when the beer runs out at a party and someone carelessly left their box of Franzia unguarded.  As wedding duty calls, though, we have to pick a wine and decided to have a tasting with some of my fiancee’s pals that drink it.  Here’s what I found out.

1) You’re supposed to buy cheese to eat.  I got online to see what kinds go with what and in typical snooty wine drinker fashion, most of the websites couldn’t give a straight answer.  It was more like “Pick a double creme cheese that matches the aromatic vibe of the wine” or “The deep earthy flavor is best matched with a sharp, bold cheese.”  In other words, now the snobs were mocking my lack of cheese knowledge too.  I dug deeper and found one chart that told me what to get.  FYI – cheese is more expensive than gold per ounce.  Holy hell, I assumed from the price that the stuff was wrapped in lottery tickets.

2) I thought there were a lot of beers out there, especially now that there is a brewery in every zip code.  There were about 300 wines in each section.  Some are $6, others are $60 per bottle, some were more but I was afraid to touch them.  This is going to take a while.  Remind me to open a cheese and wine store in the future.  I think I could retire in four months with $60 wines going off the shelf.

3) I still don’t prefer wine, but I’ll give it one advantage.  I tasted wines for hours before I remotely had to pee.  If I drink beer, I have to make water every 14 minutes.  In fairness, beer doesn’t make it look like my gums are bleeding. Well, unless I drink too much and someone punches me in the mouth.

All in all, it went well enough and I like wine more than I thought.  Don’t count on seeing me at my next comedy show with a nice Cab, swirling and sniffing with each drink.  “This?  I never thought you’d ask.  This is a lovely Bud Light.  It’s a American lager, with a clean, crisp finish.”

I was sad to hear of Joan Rivers’ passing – very talented and able to be funny in diverse fields of comedy, plus most importantly, she seemed to not give a damn about anyone being upset.  Rather than blog about career highlights for her like this is wikipedia, I thought I would list the top five worst fashion trends of my lifetime, since most people know she thrived bashing style choices.

5) This new jean shorts pulled up to the boobs trend.  Sorry, I don’t get it.  Short shorts are nice, but trying to be sexy and encouraging camel toe while looking Urkel-esque is for the birds, if birds wore pants.

4) Designer sweatpants.  Just because your ass has “Pink” or “Sexy” stamped on it, you’re still wearing sweatpants in public.  I saw a lady wearing sweatpants to work a couple weeks ago.  You might as well wear a trash bag around your waist and throw cats at passersby.

3) It wouldn’t be fair unless I implicated myself.  In college, men wearing rings was pretty popular, so I got a bead necklace and wore at least three rings, including a huge silver and onyx eagle ring.  I looked like a white wannabe pimp with a drinking problem.

2) Tight rolled jeans.  Some called them french rolled, some tight rolled – it was when you folded your jeans over and rolled the bottom, exposing your white socks or white legs and giving a nice tapered look that exactly no one should have on pants ever.  If you did it with stonewashed jeans, you probably should have had stones tossed at you by children.

1) The explosion of bangs.  This was really a bizarre hairstyle that was big in the late eighties.  Basically, women would tease their bangs like they got electrocuted, then douse the affected hair with Aqua Net so that Paul Bunyan couldn’t part their hair with an axe.

This poor soul probably spent 40 minutes making herself look like this.  There should be a public big bangs picture burning in town squares across America for these.

I think I’m the first comedian ever to realize this…I wonder if black and white people do different things…  Seriously, though, I have learned quite a lot about this key difference in the past year or so and I thought I would help my fellow men out.

Men see a bed as a mattress, boxspring, blanket and pillow.  Women see a bed with those, plus a bedskirt, three more sheets, a mattress pad, a duvee cover, eight more pillows, a stuffed animal or hand stitched memento.  I washed my sheets usually when the clocks sprung forward or fell back, I think the average woman washes the sheets more frequently than the E! network has a Kardashian on air.

I wash clothes.  I dry clothes.  This is easy because I own zero clothes without cotton, except basketball shorts (I don’t play basketball).  When I help do laundry, though, I found out my fiancee owns clothes made from every conceivable fabric known to man and a few I think only exist in comic books and movies.  I’m pretty sure she has vibranium in one shirt.  I found that I can put about three items of clothing she owns in a dryer, but only on delicate and for less than 54 seconds.

At my condo, I mopped the floors under two circumstances, when I saw ants on the floor or never.  Sure ladies, you can say men are gross, but I like to think I’m like a cockroach building up my resistance to disease so I can survive a Walking Dead scenario.  YOU’RE WELCOME, HUMANITY.  Now if I can understand the genetic predisposition to inspirational quote artwork, I may have this figured out in another 30-40 centuries.

I pulled up the ol’ Netflix and decided to check out the Karate Kid.  Here’s some thoughts.

Ralph Macchio is not in high school.  I looked it up, he was at least 22 when this was filmed.  Then again, Luke Perry was 45 when 90210 was on.

Daniel-san has picked fights with the Cobra Kai three times and been pummeled each time.  What kind of idiot doesn’t know when to quit?  Then I remembered my attempts at getting girls’ phone numbers for about 18 years of my life.

Daniel has some rocking style.  Camo pants, plaid shirt, and ring neck t-shirt – all different colors.  I don’t see clothes that awful at Aldi’s.

I like Mr. Miyagi’s slave labor training school.  Next time my soon to be wife wants to do a house project, I’m opening a karate school.  “Build the deck.  Right hand hammer.  Left hand grab me a beer.”

If you rub your hands together, you can heal any wound short of bullet holes.

I still laugh every time Miyagi says “Wax off.”

I would have loved to learn karate from a friendly old Asian man as a kid, especially one who gave me a car.  I grew up in Appalachia, though.  I would have had to settle for a drunk guy teaching me how to shiv someone.  Then he would have gave me a shiv, not as a gift, he would’ve stabbed me with it when the voices told him to.

The scene when Daniel beats Johnny is the exciting conclusion.  The worst part is all of sudden, Johnny, who was a grade A douche the whole movie, is cool as shit and congratulates him.  This is more unbelievable than a 60 year Japanese man beating the shit out of five 18 year olds.  Oh well, I still like it.  Wax off, friends.  Wax off.