-Woop-Woop- That's the Sound of (Grammar) Police: At Arizona State You Too Can Live Life To It Is Fullest

Peep the tattoo, sunn.
via uniwatch

STOP THE PRESSES! SCRAMBLE CHOPPERS! SHOCKING NEWS! Broker Believes Real Estate Market is Strong!

 

Also in today's paper:

Butcher: Whaddaya Gonna Eat, Tofu?!?

Baker: Guess What Fat Kids Like!

Candlestick Maker: Candlebras Are the New Black

Penis Pill Seller: Hey, Limpdick,Your Dick's Small!

Guiseppe Franco: Bald Men Want Hair.

Bed-Stuy Bodega Owner: Hey, You Want Some Clamato? I Got Plenty.

Coffee Cart Guy: Bear Claws Need Hot Liquid to be Dunked In.

Neptune Diner Owner: Souvlaki and Rice Pudding is the New Burger and Apple Pie

Mike D'Antoni: This is the Year!

Hollywood Agent: I Smell Oscar!

UGGGGHHHHH Make it Stop; Derek Jeter Reaches 3,000 Hits, Wade Boggs is like "bro, call me when you crush 64 beers on a cross-country flight"

what, were Bishop Desmond Tutu, Pope Benedict XVI, President Barack Obama, the Dalai Lama, Bruce Springsteen, Saint Paul O'Neill, Jay-Z, United Nations Secretary General Ban-Ki Moon, Ed Koch, and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton not available? Such disrespect!

Kinda Sorta Lookalikes, It's All About the Cheekbones

Knicks Beat Celtics to Temporarily Avoid Third Straight 50-Loss Season; and More Gross Lawyer Vanity Plates

 Entertaining game at the Garden last nite, as the Knicks showed a some fluidity and some force in dropping the Celts 104-101. At 28-49, yet another Knick season finishes in abject ruins. WFAN.com put together a nice "lost decade" team, your starting five is Starbury, Allan "Smiles" Houston, Q, D-Lee and Eddy "Touch it" Curry. This past season may top them all for worthlessness. No draft pick to look forward too. The only player to take his game to a high level was David Lee, who may well leave this summer. The disastrous trade for Tracy McGrady, now publicly proclaiming that LeG.O.D.D. will not be coming to New York. Thanks for the memories Tracy, and thanks for costing us another draft pick that we can't afford to lose. And of course, Mike D'Antoni's surreal rotation policy. Dumps Nate Robinson, only to discover that Toney Douglas is the exact same player but not as good. Proclaims Bill Walker as the second coming. Says Eddy Curry is back and ready to ball. Proclaims Sergio Rodriguez as the Third Coming. Buries Jordan Hill. Proclaims Eddie House as the Fourth Coming. But man, is he good answering questions from the press! And really, that's the only diff-diff between the Walsh/D'Antonz regime and the Isiah and Layden regimes that proceeded them. Good P.R.
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California is full of shitty vanity plates. The budget could be balanced on increased fees for asshole vanity plates. Here's one I spotted in Playa Vista. A shitty Benzo SUV, what a winner. I guess "Negoshi8" was taken.

Potential Oscar Nominee Mo'Nique's Hairy Legs

Fitty asked "How we gwon eat, man?" We aint, not after seeing this picture. Mo'nique may host a fine show on BET and may cop an Oscar for her role in "Precious," and she may be repping strong for real-looking women, but, pleez, shave or cover. Proppps to the Daily Mail for this scoop. Of course, some mens are down for that kinda thing. Just ask Barry Badrinath in "Beer Fest," "C'mon, I knew it the whole time!"

What Would Mangini Eat?

Mangini Dreamz.

I have a proclivity for rather strange dreams about the sporting world, like the one where I was pulled hastily from my job tending gardens to deliver the eulogy for my best pal, Sidney Ponson.

This Sunday morning I awoke around 7AM with a sudden start and in a cold sweat. The last I remember I was reading a "Jets Confidential" column in the Post which reported, "Now we can reveal Mangini's favorite sandwiches to order from Subway. Mangini was such a regular that he had unique code-names for his favorites. Mangini would order a 'Baps' which was a combo-footlong, with one-half being every lunch meat on the menu cooked until crispy and the other half being simple meatballs marinara. Mangini's other fave was 'Two Franks Wrapped Around A Frank' which was two Italian sausages split open and wrapped around a sausage marinara sandwich."

Now I can't go back to sleep.

The Man Who Killed Elvis Presley?

The UK's Daily Mail is a newspaper that gets the internet. Their website is easy to navigate and bursting with incredible, high-resolution photography. Content-wise, its American equivalent is the New York Post. The Post's website is amongst the worst out there. Part of it is Rupert Murdoch's general anti-internet philosophy. Rightly or wrongly, Murdoch doesn't believe that news content should be given out for free. His flagship paper, The Times, also has an awful website. Seattle-Seahawk-lime-green is not a good dominant color for a site. Still, no newspaper site has figured out how to place a graphically pleasing advertising skin over articles, a problem papers should have figured out five years ago.

Before I bore everyone with yet another rant on the future of newspapers, here's a typically great Daily Mail article about Elvis' drug doctor, who may or may not be responsible for Elvis' death. Some shocking revelations, including the fact that Elvis may have used liquid cocaine to cure a sore throat. Most newspapers wouldn't bother with one picture to accompany an online article, the Mail blesses us with 8. They get it. An article on Fat Elvis should show Fat Elvis. Enjoy.

Happy Thanksgiving New York

Guard Yo Grill. That dude on the lower right is peeping your shit.

So much to be thankful for on the New York sporting scene. The middling Giants. The wayward Jets. The regressing Knicks. The historically abysmal Nets. The underachieving 'Gers. The overachieving but still bad Isles (bro). The invisible Devils. The fallen-off-the-face-of-the-earth Johnnies of St. John's. Did I mention how well the Red Bulls (bro) and the Mets did this year?

Man, does any town have it as bad as NYC right now? With this much losing it's no wonder chumps like Jay-Z have to overcompensate with the over-the-top bragging. Welcome to New Yawk. Gobble-Gobble, suckers.

Veterans Day

Today is the 11th day of the 11th month. Unfortunately, Nike chose this week to unveil their line of "Pro Combat" college football uniforms. Besides being unusually dull (is that the best they could do with the bright colors of the U?), the use of the term "combat" and parking tanks on campuses at a time when we are still fighting two wars is unusually offensive. After September 11th there was chatter that do-or-die rhetoric in sports would fade away. It did, temporarily.

It's all the more offensive that Nike would use college kids for this campaign considering that the bulk and pain of actual war combat falls on college-age kids. Stay classy Nike!
Thanks to Uniwatch for the pictures.

Bern Baby Bern

If you could boil down the Mets ineptitude to just one sweet satin jacket..."Bernie, yeah, yeah, It's Me, Fred......Fred Wilpon, y'know, of Sterling Equities, listen, I'm looking to invest.....

Nothing in this post should be meant to imply that the Mets should blow a bunch of dough on John Lackey, Matt Holliday and Chone Figgins.

Image from Federal auction of Bernie Madoff's crap.

Terry Francona Once Had Hair on His Head.

"No, no, Terry......it's cool........Weaver's not looking.....just...just move your hand a little to the left. Yeah, that's it. No, no, why are you hesitating? Stop smiling like that you goofball, you're killing the mood. C'mon.....just a little to your left...."

photo throo Uniwatchblog.com

Robbbbbed

Actual O.G. Tigers Logo

Zoinks!

The Official Rules of Major League Baseball, Rule 5.09(a):
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The ball becomes dead and runners advance one base, or return to their bases, without liability to be put out, when --
(a) A pitched ball touches a batter, or his clothing, while in his legal batting position; runners, if forced, advance;
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Would it have been a cheap hit by pitch? Yes. Was Inge's jersey as billowy as the undulating rolls of fat that make up Oprah's thighs? Yes. But without the rule of law then it's all just gussied up "Running Bases" isn't it?

Why am I so worked up about le tigres? Well, as a fervent citizen of the A.M.F.S.B.T.M.F.Y. Nation (Any Motherfuckin Squadron But The Motherfuckin Yanks), I felt that the Tigers represented the bigger threat in the first round than the perennial-pinstripe-punching-bag- Twinkies. Fuck. Yanks-Rocks. Yanks in two. Fuck.

Props to Chris Creamer's Sportslogos.net for the source logos and to the MLB Network for the highlight.

Taste of Leather

Had the super-sexy photoshop of Rex and Sanchez posted at Withleather.com. Try to keep it in your pants upon viewing.

Rex & Mex: NY's Newest Heartthrobs

You've probably heard how desperate the Titans are for a win after getting nipped by a combined six points in each of their first two contests. You've also no doubt been made aware of the 'swagger' Rex Ryan has brought to a previously vanilla Jet defense. One tidbit that'll be mentioned during the broadcast is the link between the head coaches of both teams, as Jeff Fisher began his coaching career under Buddy Ryan's wing in Chicago and Rex Ryan is, well, Buddy's son.

A quarterback comparison shouldn't be surprising either, as you have seasoned vet Kerry Collins' emotional return to the Meadowlands, where he used to fumble snaps at a record setting pace but enjoyed some great seasons with the G-men and of course, rookie Mark Sanchez's third career start after two solid games. Both quarterbacks will operate under similar gameplans that involve tossing screens to their respective play-making backs, Chris Johnson and Leon Washington, though Kerry still has a cannon and may test the Jets' secondary in one-on-one coverage, especially if the Titans pick up the Jets' blitz. But considering how uncomfortable Tom Brady was in the face of the Jets' myriad of blitzes and coverages -Rex picked up his dad's practice of constantly rotating defensive backs- how will Collins respond, especially after struggling against Rex's Ravens in last year's Divisional Playoff game?

As for Sanchez, can he keep threading needles on third down to tight end Dustin Keller and receivers Jericho Cotchery and Chansi Stuckey, often relying on tough YAC to move the chains? It's just two games, but Sanchez has shown the ability to slide around the pocket, much like Ben Roethlisberger -the QB who can make the most out of any broken play- and Tony Romo, but his play fakes need a lot of work -he should practice breaking hearts when he goes out about town.

So will the Rex and Mex train keep rolling or get derailed by they testy Titans? I don't buy the match as a 'letdown' game for the Jets, because as cathartic as last week's victory over New England was, the Titans aren't some chump squad to be overlooked. They were the best team in the AFC last year and still feature plenty of talent on both sides of the ball. They can win on their own merit, but not this week. J! E! T! S! JETS! JETS! JETS!

***Added Bonus*** Our pal Al K. Mza will be checking in from time to time with recipes for treats during Sunday action. If you ask him now, he's starving. Here's his first contribution:

Going with the green theme of green shoots, green economy and gang green. Fall is still around and before we stuff ourselves with wings and beer, the following recipe is a literal gutcheck.

Cucumber sandwich
take cucumber. slice.
place on buttered toast.
eat

fancy version -- add sliced tomatoes.
foodies version -- israeli cucumber and heirloom tomatoes, irish butter, and mint leaves (still can make about 20 sandwiches for less than $10!)

If Schtee Falls In The Forest........

Terry celebrates with man-love.

Dider gets down.

An incredibly blurry shot of Malouda's audacious shot.

A blurry but convincing pic of the ball crossing the goal line.

Saturday saw Chelsea lift the FA Cup at Wembley following a well-deserved 2-1 victory over Everton. Under interim coach Guus Hiddink Chelsea have performed splendidly. In particular his coaching seems to have rejuvenated the mercurial Didier Drogba. The Ivorian, whose name is quite fun to say aloud, now penetrates with flair and finishes with imperiousness.

Mercurial, an adjective rarely used outside sport, could also describe Drogba's team-mate Flourent Malouda. The flashy Frenchman was pried from Lyon amidst much hullabaloo in the summer of 2007, but has henceforth proved to be mostly invisible.

Not so Saturday. With 10 minutes remaining he took a Lampard pass and unleashed an absolute howler from 35 yards out that shuddered off the crossbar, thudded just inside the goal line and then out into the arms of embarrassed Everton keeper Tim Howard. What should have been a goal for the ages was erroneously ruled to not have crossed the line.

As I, and many others, have argued, it is inexcusable for the world's second-fastest team sport to not take advantage of video replay. Particularly so in a sport where goals are rarer than Michael Keaton sightings. The ref's ass was saved by virtue of Everton's inability to overcome their one-goal deficit. This time. The next time?