Anyhoo, I always wondered what he was actually like, because outside of being dead-nasty with a football in his hands, he seems kind of personality-less. Here one of the better writers in the game, Esquire's Tom Junod, pretty much proving me right.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
I always thought Aaron Rodgers kind of looked like B.J. Novak from The Office no? Anybody? I think so, especially with the helmet on.
Poor Steve Bartman huh? I watched ESPN's documentary on him last night and the only thing I wanted to do was give that poor defenseless nerd a hug. And that's saying a lot, because I hate nerds.
Here's a good essay on him and his infamous non-catch from Will Leitch's book, "Blah Blah Blah, Baseball Nostalgia, Blah Blah Blah".
The rare well written profile of a rapper. Devin Friedman's take on the black Jabba the Hut, Rick Ross the Boss. The great thing about this fat blob with the caramel voice is that he is both in on the joke and outside of it. He is a throwback hip-hop star who understands the irony of having a gold-and-diamond pendant of his face--the size of his face--without fully accepting it.
The author gets really, really stoned with him too.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Katie Roiphe is a celebrity intellectual who made her name in the early 90's with her book The Morning After which essentially said date rape was bullshit. It uh, garnered her some attention.
Here she writes a piece inspired by that new-ish book Go the Fuck to Sleep which is a bunch of verses ostensibly read from parent to small child that start out sweet and then end with the parent getting mad and cursing a lot because they are tired.
Her thesis is that yuppie couples with little kids don't fuck as much as they should. Now I ain't got no kids, but I think a succinct "no shit Sherlock" answers her argument pretty well here.
So Blink 182 has a new album out apparently. Yeah I didn't know they were still kicking around either. But they are. And apparently it's good. This cat Nitsuh Abebe doesn't so much review it as he does take a look Blink 182's legacy. They were the perfect band for the late 90's. Before the towers came down and everything was all boobs and fart jokes. Really a great time. I used to love Blink 182. I don't care if that makes me corny. Boobs and fart jokes are right up my alley. So was Blink. Saw them at Roseland with Silverchair in like '99. Both bands crushed it. Still one of the best concerts I've ever been to. So here you go, a Blink 182 retrospective. They deserve it. Except for Travis Barker, he's a total penis.
Monday, September 26, 2011
This from PMY's September issue, a tribute to a Brett T. Bailey, who died on 9/11. I dare you to find a better 9/11 article at 1,200 words. Can't be done.
p.s. Hand to God, there are some huge sharks right off the beaches at the Jersey Shore.
Chris Jones weighs in on the recent rash of hockey enforcer suicides. He's Canadian and he boxes, so he's probably got an inside edge on this story I'd think. That being said, is all these guys dying recently really that surprising? Like, if you're a hockey enforcer, you are a fucking nut right? You're a big white okie kind of dude who could probably drink 40 Labatt Blues and drive your pick-up truck home right? I could be wrong but that's the impression I get. Plus they like to fight so they're already a little nuts. From anecdotal evidence I've heard they juice a lot. I don't know, being an NHL enforcer seems to me like one step above being a professional wrestler. Not to be insensitive, but no shit they're dying.
What's up bitches I'm back. I got kinda caught up with my actual job* traveling all over the country a few weeks back and didn't update. Truthfully Delta Airlines broke my spirit for a little bit. They fucking suck. So does Detroit, don't ever go there. It's rainy and sad and cold and poor. So, anyway, that's my apology.
Back to business. Let's talk some motherfucking treasure. This isn't really literature but some treasure hunting firm (They have those? Are they hiring?) just found a shipwreck with 200 million dollars of silver mahfuckin' bullion on it. And they get to keep 80% of it. Shit you not if I found 200 million dollars worth of treasure I would be dead in 3 months, Liver would just throw in the towel like "Fuck you Kevin I can't do this anymore. You're on your own, enjoy your short, liver-less life, dead guy."
*I Went to a high school reunion a few weeks ago and 3 or 4 people asked me if poop reads is my real job. To clear this up and avoid any awkwardness in the future, no, no it is not.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Gawker wonders if we've progressed to the point where Hollywood will start paying as much attention to the male body as the female body. The answer's no. Not at all. But probably a lot more than in years past.
Muscles are in bros. Hit the weight room. Curls for the girls. More plates more dates. More reps more boobs*. All of that.
*I just made that up on the spot. Pretty good, gonna use it in real life.
Chris Jones weighs in on why people love football (it matters not at all but is based in reality) and hate politics (it matters a lot but is based on fraudulence and illusion). Pretty great column I thought.
Are you guys watching this show? Forget Jersey Shore this show is incredible. Like literally Teresa Guidice on this show makes Snooki look like Stephen Hawking. And a hot Stephen Hawking at that. Semi-fuckable maybe. But still, her husband "Juicy" Joe Guidice is having himself a run at reality TV history this season. In this last ep he does a front flip into an awkward fish flop onto a marble floor while hammered and cracks his tooth off, all in front of his young daughters (who react hysterically) and guests. Teresa was "a little embarrassed" by her husband. Just a tad, no biggie.
He then goes on to say, in reference to his wife's brother "No offense to the faggots, but I call your brother a faggot because he's a fucking faggot." Now I have a question for you. Is this meatball of a man at the avant garde of the English language, intuitively understanding despite an evidently abysmal education that words change meaning as time progresses and when people say "faggot" these days they rarely actually mean homosexual? Or is he just a bigoted drunk? Only time will tell.
Honestly? These things are kind of growing on me. Drew Magary is eh at best, but I think the questions from his readers are getting better.
He kind of blew that gorilla vs. polar bear question. He like, kinda sorta gave the edge to the polar bear. Listen you guys, I know a thing or two about animals. I do. And I have been having this debate with myself and others for literally years. Which animal is the toughest? Which animal would win a fight. Blah blah blah.
The very best way to judge a mammal's toughness is by the prey that it eats. How large, in comparison to its own body, is its food? Let's see here. Put aside the fact that the largest silverbacks weigh 500 pounds and polar bears weigh over a ton. Polar bears eat fucking seals. 300 pound predators in their own right. Gorillas eat bananas. End of story. It's huge claws and teeth and millions of years of killer instinct bred into an animal versus a really strong monkey that eats fruit. It's like pitting a boxer versus a bodybuilder in a fight. There's no contest. Especially if the bodybuilder weighs 1/4 what the boxer does. Dumb question.
Oh and if you're interested, pound for pound the two toughest mammals in the world are the wolverine (60 pound animal that preys on elk and has been known to fight off grizzlies) and the least weasel (the world's smallest mammalian predator, it eats rabbits like 8 times its own weight), with the honey badger a not so distant third. Honey badgers have been known to attack and kill male lions by biting off their nuts. Real fucking talk there. Peace, lion nuts.
p.s. And if you're curious, no animal on earth (outside of a few snakes) can kill a full grown bull elephant. But that's only because they're so much freakishly larger than everything else.
Monday, September 12, 2011
You guys, I apologize for the lack of articles lately. I've been traveling a ton and quite frankly, the internet has been coming up short lately. Every. Single. Web. Site. Is writing about 9/11, and while I realize that's important, I just don't want to read about it and get depressed so I haven't been as fastidious with my reading habits as of late. Like, the only time I want to read about 9/11 these days is if it's about Seal Team Six double tapping some backwards ass terrorist right in his dumb ugly eyeball. That's it. Vengeance is ours.
This article is about some hotshot downtown artist who paints hardcore porno scenes in the style of the great Italian masters. Guy goes high/low like you see in the movies.
It's a long one. May be a "double tapper" itself. Oh and don't worry, the Michealangelo-esque painting in the beginning of the the two chicks fingering the other girl? That doesn't actually show up on the printed-out version.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Suffice to say, if you haven't had your fill of 9/11 stories yet, this one will do the trick. It's a follow up to Junod's acclaimed piece on Norberto Hernandez, a man who jumped to his death from one of the towers and was the subject of one of the most famous pictures taken that day.
Good god. Been traveling all over the universe lately for work and not keeping this blog up and that's on me. My bust. Also, the Giants are going to fucking blow this year and that made my nuts hug a little closer, know what I'm saying? I literally bumped into Jonathan Goff this afternoon and he looked like a kind, former undersized D-1 tight end. Not the starting middle linebacker for the New York football Giants. A very nice look on his face. I'm sure that bodes well for his life choices and shit, but I'd rather have a David Harris-looking, I'm-shoving- a shotgun-in your-face-and-taking-all-your-money-now looking motherfucker playing ILB for me. Thanks.
p.s. Anybody who thinks the eagles are the number two favorite to win the Super Bowl is a total dumb dumb.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The Deadspin Funbag is getting better and far more perverse, and it has nothing to do with Drew Magary's limp-dicked theories and everything to do with questions like this:
"Would you rather suck your dad's dick until he came or be paralyzed from the neck down?
Fuckin' Baldwin huh? Guy basically plays himself for a living telling jokes Tina Fey wrote on 30 Rock and he's still not happy. Like bro that is the life. You are literally doing you and getting paid millions of dollars to do it. You're like the Situation or Kim Kardashian just gallivanting around the earth being yourself and having people love to watch you do it. Only difference between you and dumb-dumb sticks and ol' big butt is that you are in on the joke. You are funny, charismatic, and likable and they are complete and utter ass hats. Take joy old man, it doesn't get any better than that.
This cat Dan Klores used to run his own crisis management firm and writes in for Grantland about how public relations is complete horse shit. Even gets a nice little dig in on Syracuse too which I always like. His gist is that athletes should just go straight DiMaggio when they fuck up, that is, they should just shut up. Stop talking. Particularly if you're an awkward, insecure, starting-to-fail, purple-lipped power hitter who prefers manly strippers. Just shut up already.
Pretty sure this is the first article we've ever posted from Dealbreaker. I used to read them a lot when I was a finance monkey, but now not so much. Usually just a bunch of snarky Ivy League dweebs pulling each other's puds about how smart they are and how rich they'll be. Sweet bro.
But this article deconstructing Communism is actually pretty good. Nobody deconstructs Communism anymore mostly because just about everyone but that one dude Elaine dated on Seinfeld agrees that the shit works a lot better on paper, but still, this is a thought provoking piece. But it still doesn't mean you get to be a selfish dickwad and justify it with the philosophical stylings of Ayn Rand. Don't do that. That's what dickwads do.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
A list of ten sluts who strutted their asses straight into the history books by hopping in the sack with some other lady's man-piece. Devious.
I'm just so happy college football is back. Any football really. NFL will be great in a week too, but for now I'm as happy as a drunk irish guy in a dark irish bar rooting for Notre Dame. (This article is not all about ND, not sure why the misleading title.) This line from it about how ND alums don't really care about the moral high ground anymore is great though.
"There's a distance above sea level at which trees can't be found, and a distance above the malleable morals of modern sport at which crystal footballs are nowhere to be seen. "
Truer words my friends, truer words.