Premature Adjudication

We're a bunch of law students who all live together and want to write a blog. Well, only three of us want to write, but the others may pop in occasionally. We have no true purpose, but I bet you'll see a lot about sports, current events, and general randomness. Don't worry bar admissions people we are both of high moral character and physically fit.

Friday, March 31, 2006

Why the Orioles are the Luckiest Team in Baseball

Of course, this isn't from a winning, team chemistry, or even finishing out of fourth place in their own division standpoint. And this has nothing to do with Leo Mazzone. At least right now. The big news out of Baltimore right now is that big-tittied yahoo Anna Benson is at it again (in case you don't know Anna is a former stripper and soon to be ex-wife of O's new pitcher Kris Benson). Anna is known for a lot of outlandish behavior, such as posing for Penthouse, FHM, spouting off about her love of guns, and dressing up in a skimpy Santa Claus outfit to greet local children (Deadspin has a nice collection of posts following some of her actions here). What made her most famous, or notorious, though were her statements on Howard Stern about what she would do if her husband Kris ever cheated on her. At the time Kris was pitching for the Mets and Anna stated that if she ever caught Kris cheating she would sleep with everyone on his team from the players to the coaches and probably right on down the line to the 15 year old batboy (I might be making the batboy up, but she basically said everyone would get a piece). To quote:

"That's the biggest thing in athletics- they cheat all the time," she replied.
"I told him cheat on me all you want. If you get caught, I'm going to screw
everybody on your entire team. Everyone would get a turn. I will embarrass more
than he ever could imagine. Whatever team he plays on, I will screw all of

Well, apparently Kris is one dumb motherfucker because Anna is filing for divorce, citing that she caught Kris cheating with one of her friends. I can't imagine that this is true because no man should be dumb enough to cheat on his hot stripper wife who loves to have sex everywhere in the stadium (including the parking lot), has a house full of guns, and is bat-shit insane. But that's what Anna is saying.

Now personally I just think that Anna is a little pissed that Kris got traded from New York and its huge media market to Baltimore and its not so large media market and is trying to get herself in the public eye again. She knows those comments made her famous and she just wants everyone to wonder whether she's actually going to fuck everyone, grouds crew included. She's also willing to throw away her marriage for more publicity, typical stripper move. Take notes Helmet, this is why you don't marry a stripper, no matter how much he says he loves you.

Either way, this is just another distraction for my Orioles. If it isn't steroids (or B-12 shots), guys hating each other, beloved bullpen coaches dying, ridiculously shitty managers, star players wanting to be traded, star players almost getting their arms' ripped off by Bubba Crosby, playing in the same division as the Yanks/BoSox, or having a penny-pinching asshole of an owner, it's a loony stripper strapped with heat looking to screw everyone in sight. I suggest they turn it into a team building exercise.

And you thought Leo Mazzone caught on with the O's because he's best friends with our new manager.


My head hurts...someone please go get me some advil...NOW!

Also, if you drove me home last night please stand and be recognized. I know I didn't walk and I definitely didn't drive so...?

In other news, 2 Rancherians were nearly arrested by several of Tuscaloosa's finest last night. Apparently they smarted off (shocking) to the cops and were then "placed" against trees...nevertheless, the donut-laden fuzz was no match for their cat-like reflexes...well played gentlemen, carry on!

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Georgia...On My Mind

The Masters is NEXT WEEK!!! This annual celebration, broadcast to over seventy countries worldwide and revered by fratdogs and yuppies alike, takes place at The Augusta National Golf Club in Augusta, Georgia, and is--without question--the most exciting week in golf. Period. Dot-Com. End of Story.

The Masters is a special point of pride for southerners. This event marks the "beginning" of the golf season for most of the country. While our less fortunate counterparts in the midwest and the east coast (See, e.g., Where the Turbos and Guidos Live) are still up to their pee-holes in snow and mud, we southern gentlemen don sunglasses while our lady friends model sundresses, and we all bask in balmly 70 degree temperatures and reminisce about simpler times. In essence, the Masters is an opportunity for us to show off why the South is such a great place to live.

Considering that the history of this great game in the United States began in the major cities on the east coast (namely Boston, New York, and Philadelphia) and Chicago in the midwest, it is certainly a point of interest (and would no doubt make a great book) that the most important tournament IN THE WORLD was conceived, planned, built, and executed by the renowned southerner and consummate gentleman Bobby Jones, who grew up in Atlanta, GA, and received post-graduate degrees in law, engineering, and literature, and is the only person to ever win the Grand Slam.

So sit back, relax, enjoy 56 minutes of coverage every hour, and remember why you are so lucky to live down here...and if you don't, that sucks for you.

Happy Birthday PartyBoy!

I know that Helmet already stole the birthday post thunder, but we figured we'd give it a go anyway. Especially since he didn't put up a picture. Happy Birthday asshole.

Party Boy is 30!!!!!!!!!!

Our on-again off-again contributor, Party Boy, celebrates his birthday today. Therefore, if you see the vertically challenged and alcoholically enhanced birthdayboy today, please punch him in the coin purse as he is now 30.

If you would like to help us celebrate his birthday, please meet us at El Drincon at 7. Wear something skimpy.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Clean and Clear

Got a call from the doctor's office today. They informed me that I don't have ass cancer. Hooray! Let's have a party. Maybe Saturday before A-Day?

Ranch Wildlife

I just saw the "half dog/half beaver" thing that lives down here. I looked up and there it was sitting on the edge of Helmet's porch. I looked back at my computer to tell the guys on Google Talk and when I looked up again it was gone. Damn thing must be have magical skills akin to a liger. Drill Sargeant says that it's probably a muskrat, but I'm not so sure. Do muskrats have magical abilities?

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Vote for Me and I'll Give You a Lap Dance

I just received this in my law school email inbox as did all the other guys because it was sent out as a mass email to the whole law school:

Hey Y'all--I'm your fellow classmate (1L) and I need your helpOnce again, I
am in the Maxim Hometown Hotties Contest and I am online this week
(3/27-4/2). Please visit the link below and vote for me... Jen
from Tuscaloosa...CA?! I think Bear Bryant just rolled over in his

(I'm in the third row from the bottom, third from the left.)

I made it to the top 100 finalists a few years ago and got to be in Maxim
magazine. I appreciate your help and hope you can take a minute to vote
again this year. Pass this along to friends--if they're anything like me,
a little diversion via e-mail is nice on a long day at work. And if
you're really bored, I think you can vote multiple times! Thanks

Stupid 1L

Wow. We all knew you were in Maxim, but to send out an email soliciting votes to the whole law school is somewhere between shameless and slutty. Or both (not that there's anything wrong w/ that). Obviously you care about your career in law. But I see that you have a full length film coming out this summer. At least one of your careers is about to take off.

And please don't bring Bear Bryant into this as he will rise from the grave, eat your head, and have sex with half of the girls on that page.

All Sec NCAA Championship???

This was supposed to be a down year for SEC basketball. However, the best all-around conference in this fair country landed 5 teams in the Big Dance--all of whom advanced to the round of 32--and two of whom made it to the Sweet 16 and eventually all the way to the Final 4. The Big East, Big 10, and the vaunted ACC, failed to send even one team (among their combined 30+) to Indianapolis while exactly 1/6 or 16.67% of the SEC will play in the Final 4. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Jay Bilas (hey dick, when will you admit that the only reason you said Michigan should be in field of 64 was because you are bff with Michigan's head coach?)

Does this mean anything? Or am I just extremely articulate and remarkably persuasive with the way in which I use numbers?

Well, I am...but it also means that there is a tremendous amount of parity in college hoops. Though many pundits (or "taint-lickers" as they are commonly known) like Skip Bayless or Doug Gottlieb will claim that it is a result of superstars like Lebron James and Tracy McGrady going straight to the Association and those like Carmelo Anthony only staying for one year, I disagree. Instead of arguing that the parity is a result of a thinning out of the talent at the top, I approach the problem from the converse angle. I argue that the parity is a result of an increase in the talent at the bottom. For example, the Missouri Valley Conference, whose success in placing 2 teams in the Sweet 16 has thoroughly discredited Billy Packer (though I suspect alcohol plays a large part in Packer's daily and blatant incompetence) (and who only pops a chub for teams in the quote-unquote power conferences), will hereafter be considered a legit hoops conference...not to mention George Mason going to the Final 4 out of the CAA.

My point is this: these teams will previously were considered "cinderellas" are no flukes no more...and this is because these teams have uber-talented kids and coaches who believe they can compete with the overhyped assclowns who populate perenial "powerhouses" like UConn and Duke. It is only a matter of time before a 16 seed is a meaningless moniker and a 1 seed is a likely first round knock-out.

Lost and Alone in the World

It has come to our attention that our shitty little blog has no real purpose or theme and that it isn't read by anyone but us (actually we knew that one). Well, we want to remedy that by giving our blog a sense of purpose. We feel that with purpose, readers will come.

So, as of today BBSD will be known as a law school blog that deals with sports and our general chicanery. It will probably end up with us just writing stuff off the top of our heads, but now we have a purpose, a theme so to speak, and that will satisfy a few.

Remember though, anything we write isn't an expert opinion (unless it deals with dog farts or sea donkeys) and should not be tried at home for safety's sake. Carry on.

The Final Countdown

After that retarded post, here's something funny for all you Arrested Development fans.

Monday, March 27, 2006

The Final Showdown

Over the past few days it has become painfully obvious that the infamous Ranch and this fine blog is not big enough for both T. House Cat and Lord Helmet. It started small-an unappreciated bowl of instant mashed potatoes-and then today nearly erupted into physical violence in tax this morning. There simply isn't enough room here for two such massive tuna cans.

Therefore, one must go and one must stay (and one has a 'fro and one is gay--not only a coincidence but it also rhymes). Do not fret loyal readers of BBSD, this battle has been brewing for quite a while. In the spirit of democracy we will allow you all to debate and determine the winner of this last and epic battle.

I put it to you. Do your worst. Use this forum to describe and analyze the qualities of the two combatants and make your voice heard.

Remember bitches, VOTE OR DIE!

Ghost of Spring Breaks Past

Spring Break is gone...forever. I will never have another. However, I take solace in the fact that I went out on top.

Here, in statistical accumulation, are the highlights of our trip:

3 lap dances at Sammy's...
...and 2 bottles of DP
576 bullets loaded
129 jager bombs downed
4 fights initiated
1 gauntlet thrown down at AJs
3 Total Bar Controls
5 grenades brought back to Destin Ranch
1 grenade pin actually pulled
54 holes of golf played
1 naked golf cart drive-by
1 pressed ham out the window to a carload of sorostitutes
286 dog farts
16 ncaa tourney games watched
3 boat trips to Crab Island
and 1 shit-ton of regret

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Look Alikes

LSU Men's Basketball Coach John Brady

Former SNL Cast Member Darrell Hammond

Anyone else see it?

Almost Motivated

Woke up, fixed coffee, ate a cinnamon roll (no, not that kind) and watched Matthew Perry's epic Almost Heroes on Comedy Central. Jerry Springer's Ringmaster is on now. Maybe I should shave, shower and go get some work done like a good little law student. I mean, exams are about a month away. Fuck.

Friday, March 24, 2006

Wine gives me a terrible hangover, but...

... I'd deal with this one.

Apparently porn star Savanna Samson has released her own Italian wine. Sounds delicious right? Well, that is correct. Apparently famed wine critic Robert Parker has given it raving reviews. I wonder what she did to win his favor.

Plagiarism at its best

Recently, ESPN radio host Colin Cowherd completely ripped off a bit created by the M Zone, a Michigan sports blog. The bit was a fake Wonderlic Test that the M Zone created and Cowherd read on his show without giving them credit. Rather than rectifying the situation when it was brought to his attention, Cowherd acted like a dick and called the M Zone a bunch of whiners in a poorly written email. The M Zone wasn't in it for the money, all they wanted was a little credit for their original thought. Rather, Cowherd is getting paid for ripping off bloggers. Seems a little unethical, eh? Just another instance of ESPN turning itself into a huge conglomerate and treating the little guy like shit.

Please help to rectify this situation and possibly get Cowherd balls deep in trouble by emailing the ESPN Ombudsman.

Edit: It has been brought to my attention that it may not be plagiarism b/c Cowherd didn't claim it as his own. Good point. But I feel that his actions in not giving credit when he was informed and basically acting like it was his on the air imply that it was his.

Edit #2: Cowherd stating that he found a copy of the Wonderlic on the Internet was the setup for the joke, not a disclaimer that it wasn't his. Therefore, it was plagiarism b/c he passed the whole joke off as his own.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Drunks and 18 year olds

What is the dream occurrance of every guy on Spring Break? Free beer? Yes, but not what I was looking for. Exposed titties? Again, yes, but still not what I was looking for. The house next door getting moved into by 18 freshman sorority girls? Ding, ding, ding. This is what happened to us, a bunch of undeserving, drunk, and akward law students.

So what happened you ask? Well, the inevitable. The one we call 'Clutch' (yet he doesn't know it) used his game to trick some poor young girl into thinking he is cool when he is actually far from it. Another, we'll call him 'The Free' (a random conversationalist who was never less than 6 beers deep all week), surprised everyone by finding an 18 year old who attached herself to his hip for a few days. Obviously life experience was not high in this group.

The others, wisely, steered clear of us, thinking that we (a bunch of 24-29 year olds) were a bunch of drunk, horny old men. They weren't far off. Those of us with girlfriends watched the events from afar, trying to stay as far away from trouble as possible, but still wanting to see the trainwreck happen. While no trainwreck did occur (they actually thought it was cool hanging with our group), we did end up leaving 'Drunkingham' with the girls on the morning we left (he still had about 10 beers in his system at 10 AM) and he proceeded to move into their house for the day. God only knows what happened, but I'm sure it was good for all those involved.

I just hope The Free ends up calling his youngun. Nothing like dating a girl who was born in 1987. That's over half a decade after him. He was alive for 1/4 of his life before she was born. Just think about that...

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Spring Break... Wooooo! Hooooo!

Well, it's spring break for all of us now. We'll be gone for a few days, but since maybe 1-2 people other than us actually read this blog, I don't think anyone will notice. And I'm sure you all can wait for our mediocrity anyway.

Never Been Kissed

Our "law college" decided to go all high school on us and hand out superlatives to the 3rd years. Great idea right? Yeah, I thought so. Anyway, our esteemed Lord Helmet came away with two of these awards: Best Hair (for his impeccable coif) and Friendliest (because he really is a homo). After learning that he got both of these, a slightly drunken Helmet came up to me and uttered the quote of the night: "Best Hair + Friendliest = Never Got Laid". Classic. And true.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Lights! Camera! Butt-plug!

As I write this post from my Ranch home I must admit that my thoughts are far away...they are on Rice Mine where one of our esteemed number (while under the influence of anesthesia) is at best having only a camera jammed up his tail-pipe to examine his notoriously faulty colon--and at worst is bent over a table wearing makeup, a hospital gown, and a Richard Nixon mask while some doctors and nurses are fulfilling their sick fantasies on his unconscious body. As I was driving him to his certain doom, I did my best to put as many disturbed scenarios in his head with the hope that while he was going under he would start muttering things like, "No, don't stick it in butt!" or "Get your hands out of my ass you sick bastard!"

When I pick him up in an hour I will let you know. Keep your fingers crossed! Scoops!

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Pirate Treasure!

I'm serious. where the fudgity fudge is it all? And I'm not talking about Garth Brooks 'unanswered prayers' type treasure here. I'm talking about getting paid! Wake up people!

For years we've been inundated with stories about peg-legs, eye patches, and parrots--and for what? Nothing. If even half the stories we've all heard about gold dabloons and red rubies are true there must be a shit-ton of pirate treasure buried throughout the world just waiting to be schmucks like us.

As I prepare to take the MPRE on Saturday and come to grips with the fact that I may soil it and totally embarrass myself, my family, and my parents' dogs, I am comforted by the fact that if my chosen profession rejects me I can always become a pirate treasure hunter. Though I may never be able to sign a pleading in the state of Alabama, I can still travel the world pillaging and plundering and saying argh!

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

WBC: Canucks v. Yanks

Right now I'm sitting here watching the US play Canada in the World Baseball Classic. The US is, of course, a heavy favorite over our docile neighbor as we should be. Baseball is our sport; hockey is theirs. And their national sport is lacrosse or something. Losers.

But that's not the way it's playing out. Through 4.5 innings they are KICKING OUR ASSES. 8-0. And they just hit an inside the park home run. What the hell? What team of "All-Stars" lets that happen? We're also in danger of getting mercy ruled. That only happens to the marching band's intramural softball team (and China). What the hell is going on? This is a fucking abomination. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is worse than losing to a bunch of smarmy Canucks.

It's not just that we're playing like a bunch of challenged 12 year olds that is making me angry. It's that I also have to root for Jeter and Arod. If I have to root for those two, the team better play well. Otherwise I'm supporting a couple of piece of shit Yankees for no good reason. And that would be terrible.

On the bright side, Canada's starter and Orioles top prospect Adam Loewen looked quite good today. Although he threw about as many balls as he did strikes, he kept the USA from scoring which is pretty damn good for a double A pitcher. That makes 4 O's starters who have had good starts in the WBC (the others were Rodrigo Lopez for Mexico, Erik Bedard for Canada, and Bruce Chen for Panama).

Update: We seem to be rallying at the moment. We've pushed two across and have two on with one out and Mark Texeira up. Let's get something done and show those Canucks that they're still our bitches. Or, lets at least avoid getting mercy ruled.

Favorite Music Video

This is a kinda gay post, but I randomly started thinking about what my favorite music video of all time is. I came up with two quick ones off the top of my head. Since I didn't have to think too hard to remember them, I figure they're at least in my top 5. Here they are:

"Days Go By" by Dirty Vegas. Dude just breakdances the whole time. That's it. There's some sort of story, but whatever. I wish I could break it down like that. Someone get me a piece of cardboard and a boom box.

"Weapon of Choice" by Fatboy Slim. Another dancing one. This time it's Christopher Walken dancing around a hotel lobby. I think I like it because I never expected Walken to be able to dance like that. Apparently he's classically trained from what I hear. Who knew?

Comments? What are everyone elses' favorites?

What is wrong with the world???

OK...So as a ranch elder I feel compelled to rant this morning about where the world is headed. As I was sitting at the train crossing this morning enjoying my normal breakfast of
quaaludes and Crowne Royal I found myself staring at the passing train. Murals celebrating such poignant urban moments as the Crips conquering the corner of 6th and Peachtree in Atlanta were memorialized on the side of the passing cars. Finally as the train passed I noticed something I found very troubling....NO CABOOSE. What the fuck happened to trains having a caboose??? This sent me down the troubling road of what you people are doing to my world. First, you took the caboose away. This loss of a basic piece of American nostalgia might not trouble you, but I believe it shakes the very foundation of America. I mean, look at the world. Superman couldn't walk then died. Superman's wife got the cancer and croaked. I guess kryptonite doesn't work for chemo. Kirby Pucket died and people treat him like he was a saint. As an impressionable young party boy, who had hardly partied at all at that point, I grew to hate kirby pucket with the fire of a thousand suns after the 91 world series. Let me illustrate a moral absolute...Mark Lemke - Good; Kirby Pucket - Bad.

I don't have any clue what this rant is about other than to say everyone should try to be more like Mark Lemke and less like Kirby Pucket and the Caboose should come back (bright red with that cool little deck on the back). Anyway, Hobbs just said, "he didn't hit it and quit it, he hit it and stayed" in Family law so I guess I'll pay more attention.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Happy Birthday Helmet!

Today is an important day in history. It is the day on which our own Lord Helmet was born. Don't forget to wish him a Happy Birthday (or Unhappy if you so choose).

Barry Bonds is a Roid Head

No shit. But apparently now there's definitive proof. How great. I mean, I go to one Christian Legal Society meeting and something like this happens. Needless to say, I might just go to church this weekend in the hopes that the whole Yankees team catches Asian bird flu.

R.I.P. Kirby Puckett

Kirby Puckett, a two-time World Champion ('87 and '91), 10 time All-star, and first ballot Hall-0f-Famer with the Minnesota Twins, passed away yesterday after suffering a massive stroke. He was only 45. There are certainly many dudes my age who remember Puckett well. He was in his prime when I was in my formative years (i.e. before Internet porn), and along with other all-stars of his generation like Dale Murhpy, Jose Canseco, Dwight Gooden, Andre Dawson, and Barry Larkin, to name a few, was undoubtedly idolized by many. According to some, however, Puckett's sterling reputation may be a farce. My questions to you all are 2: how will history remember Kirby Puckett? Will his exploits on the field in life be diminished in death by revelations of previously undisclosed problems? And second, what other professional athletes have had (or currently have) a favorable public image but beneath the facade may be complete douche bags?

Of Tampons and Basketballs

Another Thursday night in T-town. Helmet and I stumbled home from the Free, barely missing a fight on the way back. We were tired, drunk and hungry so we sat and we ate. I for some reason found a salami sandwich appetizing, but that is beside the point. After a while, Sargeant stumbles in drunk as all hell. "I have to go buy tampons for my lady friend," he said. "Someone come with me." Helmet and I, not even considering how three dudes out late night tampon shopping would look, agreed to go immediately. We all three piled in Sarg's truck, drunk as the day we were born. Brilliant.

About a hundred or so yards later, we were at the local BP. Sarg and I hopped out of the car while Helmet wisely stayed in. Don't ask me why I thought it would be funny to go look for tampons. Sarg found the tampons right inside the door. "Which do we get?" The reply: "How heavy is the flow?" Gross. A box was then chosen at random. Getting the incorrect tampons is better than getting none.

Sarg decided it was a good idea to buy beer with the tampons. More manly. I just wanted a Pay Day, which I got as a reward for accompanying Sarg. Too bad I'd forget all about it. That's because I was distracted by the bin of basketballs by the counter. Talk about an impulse buy. "We should get a basketball," I said. We don't even have a goal. "Yeah, get a blue one," said Sarg. The blue one was on the bottom. Sarg did that on purpose and I didn't even know. So there I was, digging through basketballs drunk off my ass in the middle of the night at the BP. I got the blue one. It was light blue. With dolphins on it. How gay.

We got to the counter and made our purchase. Tampons, beer, a Pay Day, two packs of gum, and a dolphin basketball. The black dude behind the counter just looked at us. "Are they gay?" he wondered. "Can't be. What would the tampons be for?" he reasoned. "Stupid white boys," he concluded.

Sarg and I ran out of the BP. I was dribbling through the parking lot, faking out imaginary defenders. I probably looked like Napoleon Dynamite at that point. We piled back into the car and head home. But not before Sarg stopped the car next to the girls' house at the corner and laid on the horn. "That's how you treat those bitches." Yes, way to go tampon man.

Monday, March 06, 2006

Drill Sargeant has arrived...

Misspelling intentionalish.

Large B is in the building

Everybody say hi to Large B our transient NASCAR expert. What say you good sir?

Feline Coitus

Last week, Rancherian #8 (by order of arrival at the Ranch) and I encountered two members of the oustpoken gang of cats which inhabit our fair Ranch engaged in sexual intercourse. At first, the Drill Sergeant and I were unsure whether Socks (the male, likely the alpha of the group...he drives a big-ass truck and drinks Bud Heavy) was killing his partner. However, we determined they were engaged in intercourse when he dismounted, she rolled over, and he began to side-door her...vigorously. This left us with a host of questions:

(1) Do cats experiment with sexual positions?
(2) Do they talk about positions (or "progressions") the way we do?
(2) Will he call her the next day?
(3) Why did they do it out in the open right in front of Box 4?
(4) Will Socks' social status be enhanced because he side-doored?
(5) Will his partner (who is yet unnamed, but richly deserves the appellation "Dumpster") be chastised by other female cats?

Your comments are greatly appreciated.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

To the Humongous Taint Who Left My Front Door Open

Next time you decide to come over and play Tiger Woods '06 on my Xbox, close the fucking front door when you leave. There are innumerable vicious animals at the Ranch that would love nothing more than to attack a sleeping House Cat. Among them is the seemingly docile kitty that you fed milk and deemed "Little Prothro" who I'm sure would love nothing more than to knock me off and become top House Cat (I'm pretty sure you're actually training him to take me out). There is also the "Predator" who has gone into hiding of late, but I do not trust is gone; rather I believe he is plotting. You will also recall that racoon that you buffoons attempted to assassinate with a shotgun. I'm sure he's also ready to take revenge on any one of us. And there is that half dog, half beaver thingy that we saw one day. As funny as it sounds, I'm pretty sure that combination creates a bloodthirsty, ravenous creature of epic proportions.

Next time you leave the door open I'll be forced to shit in your pillow. Or even worse, I'll potato sack you while you're sleeping. Bitch.


The NFL Collective Bargaining Disagreement and How it Affects Me

I am a Redskins fan. I am not a Yankees fan.

Reports indicate that there are teams that would benefit from the lack of a salary cap and therefore oppose it. The most obvious of these teams is the Washington Redskins and their freespending owner Danny Snyder. At first the thought of no salary cap was tempting. The 'Skins, the NFL's richest and most profitable team, could spend freely, gather up players and become a somewhat dominant force once again (this is of course, provided they use good judgment). I would love nothing more than to have a perennially dominant Redskins team, especially since my sports team repetoire has gotten increasingly mediocre over the last 10 years. But then it dawned on me that if the salary cap is gone, the Redskins will become the Yankees of the NFL. And there is nothing that I loathe more than the Yankees.

Of course, if the Redskins become the Yankees, I won't stop cheering from them and I will probably relish all of their victories, but I will ultimately become what I hate. And in order to avoid becoming a hypocrite I will have to stop trashing the Yanks for their free spending ways. That's not something that I relish giving up.