Why Cook? Why Drive? Why do anything????????????

And then they taunt you with that dine-in deal.

Dante's New Inferno: Colonel Sanders Abyss of Fried Chicken Preparation aka Inferno Sauce

A heretofore uncharted by Dante level of hell, where Colonel Sanders toils in a beige-and-gray colored abysss doomed to forever coat mutant chickens in a batter most foul. 

Does anyone find anything remotely realistic or enticing about that picture? Fucked. 

Mario Balotelli Super Euro Nike Ill Kicks Commercial

In honour of Bizman's Euro adventures comes a super Euro advert. Don't click on the related youtube links unless you want to delve into the world of Italian hip hop and techno. Ziti.

Gin and Juice - Snoop Dogg and KISS

In What Universe Do the Knicks Have the Assets to Get Carmelo Anthony?; Also, unappealing Spam commercial; and Dreary Looking Public Plaza for Brooklyn Nets' Barclays Center

Take a look at the Knick present and future. Exciting, eh? I think they've got that 8th seed ON LOCK.

Peter Vescey keeps regulating shop with his blistering column on Melo's future in Tuesday's Post.

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The Knicks simply don't have the required assets. The nerve of those Nuggets (and other concerned parties) to exact something of value in return!
"If the Knicks had their first-round draft picks, Carmelo already would be at camp scrimmaging with them," a rival team executive said.

Donnie Walsh's reckless decision last February to turn over the team's 2012 prime real estate (protected 1-5 through 2015; if not conveyed by then to the Rockets, it translates into two seconds) optimistically to amass enough cap space to entice two mega free agents unexpectedly has come back to haunt the Knicks before the team president could finish his first term of office. What was the rush? Rod Thorn waited until late June to accrue more space for the Nets -- the dumping of Yi Jianlian, for instance.
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 This proposed plaza in front of the future Barclays Center in Brooklyn looks like a lovely spot in which to contemplate life's meaningless and nothingness. But hey, as long as it gets built and opens.
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No doubt, Spam's a hard product to advertise, at the very least this commercial shies away from unappealing close-ups. Spam Up!

Frownie Always Wanted to Open a Fish Restaurant Called Just for the Halibut; Also, Satchel Paige Pitching for the Kansas City A's Alongside Segui and Tartabull; also Berba first man to score hat-trick for Man United against L'pool in many a moon.

Puns+Shitty Food=Rispekt.

F.C.K.F. stands for Fried Chicken Kebabs Fish. Fuck.
Here's an interview with a brilliant graphic designer who has made a career out of making dozens of iterations of cartoon chickens, the subject of a new book called "Chicken: Low Art, High Calorie."
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Via Uniwatch, this amazing photo of Satchel Paige from 1965. At the supposed age of 58, Paige signed on with Charlie O. Finley's Kansas City Athletics. He started and pitched three innings on September 25, 1965 in an eventual loss to the Boston Red Sox. As part of the fanfare, Finley arranged for Paige to rest in a rocking chair in the bullpen before the game attended to by a nurse. In his three innings, Paige only surrendered a hit against a decent Sox lineup that included Carl Yastrzemski and Tony Conigliaro.

 Of further note, the A's that game featured the fathers of two semi-prominent future New York baseball players, Jose Tartabull, daddy of Danny and Diego Segui, pop dukes of David. Weird, eh? Biggupp props to baseball-reference.com for their box score database.
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Finally, my latest for epltalk.com, a historical nugg on the last Man United player to score a hat-trick against L'pool.

Kiss My Arse

Shit's getting trife out there. Summer is lurching to a close. The Mets are down to 1/5th of their rotation. $ for Clunkers. Health Care. All kinds of shiznit, you know the deal. I think Redd Foxx would agree, time to get in where you fit in.

And for those who are down, a big tilt in the early going as Arsenal is away this Saturday to Man United. A true test to see if the Arse-youth are ascendant or if a prettyboy-less United can survive and thrive. 12:15 Eastern on Fox Soccer Channel. The Sports Herb approves.

Consume or Die

inspired by a Grrrrrrrreat game, america leaped out of bed this morning, tossed back a diet pepsi max,, took a look ahround, put on its elastic-lined pleated j.c. penny jeans one leg at a time, and skedaddled off in that guldarned-leased-Explorer to Denny's for a Grand Slamer. Abso-friggin-lutely necessary. Big fuel. For a Big Day. IHOP is for babies.

The lights of our nation's Wal-Marts flicker to life, illuminating miles of ailes of bahgans. KFC's deep fryers hum with anticipation, ready to melt those 11 secret herbs and spices into the crust enveloping that juicy all-white (alllll-right) breast meat. Millions of dull-eyed office drones in 2007's striped shirts boot up their 2006 Dells, determined to use this first fantasy-football free day to hunker-bunker down, yessir, no distractions, no procrastinating. Real work to be done, dump that data into Excel, revel in the number-crunch, eye-drop those bleary eyeballs, ergonomically adjust our wrists, Seamless Web our din-din.

Determined, like Santonio Holmes to brush all ten toes upon turf, to roll up our sleeves and lick this darned recession of ours. Why, shoot, if our F-150's can have an 1800-3050 pound maximum payload, we can sure as sam-heck change the oil and rotate the tires on the economy!

And as we settle into our beds tonite, from the lighthouses of Maine to the raging surf of San Diego to the Eurotrashed shores of South Beach, to the asshole banker yuppies 2.0 of FiDi to the churning waters of Pugent Sound to the Massive Massives of the Midway to the panty-droppin varsity blues of windswept West Texas, to the Testaverde-Pining Paisans waddling through the stripped malls betwixt the Sound and the Atlantic, bellies full of Hot Pockets and Sierra Mist Lite, let us be lullabied to sleep with the soothing words written by some who-cares from, like, a long time ago, but so lovingly hip-hopped by our generation's defining poet/troubadour, Will.i.Am;

May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

Amen. And Spend.