See You in September

[Before I launch into my final pre-Vegas post, I'd like to introduce a new segment here on TGS -Against the "Law". In this space I will catalogue some of my personal pet peeves. Today's violator was a pedestrian listening to his ipod while walking through charming downtown Hoboken on his way to work. Sounds reasonable, except this guy had a HUGE noise-reducing headset plugged into his ipod (not unlike the type of headset an F-16 Pilot might wear). I've also seen a guy at my gym wearing similar head gear while working out. Not only do they look ridiculous, wearing such hi-tech ear gear is dangerous in everyday situations (i.e., if you're NOT flying a plane, DJ'ing in Manhattan or listening to an LP record in your parents' basement circa 1975). You can't possibly hear anything going on around you! So, that's why plugging obnoxiously ginormous head gear into your little ipod is Against the "Law".]

In case you haven't caught on, TGS is off to beautiful Las Vegas, NV this weekend. This will be the last post until the post-Vegas post (or something). If any of you Spike loyalists are in Vegas, don't bother trying to find me. Because of the explosion in the popularity of this blog I will be registering at my hotel/casino under an assumed name - probably as renowned pirate attorney Chareth Cutestory.

My personal casino host at our resort of choice, Johnny Sands has assured me a good time (I couldn't make this guy up if I tried - although I've only spoken to him on the phone, he's unique to say the least). Of course, guarantying me a good time in Vegas is like forecasting the weather in San Diego.

Without further ado, here are the TGS official money lines for the weekend:

• Pitt -3.5 v. Virginia

• Bucknell -2.5 v. Duquesne (apparently this game it too minor to concern the Vegas odds-makers so I had TGS' in-house bookie, "Uncle Guido", set the line)

• Yankees to win world series: 4/1 (at this point, why mess around betting on individual games with the Yanks?)

• Dave Law's first round of golf (over/under): 99

• BT's first round of golf(o/u): 120 (factoring in his Thunderous drive)

• Odds of Dave Law not making it to the second round of golf: 3/1

• Hours before the desert sun burns Dave's bald spot (o/u): 0.7

• Total time spent at buffets (o/u): 5.0 hours

• Odds for the weekend's MPAA ratings

G: 100/1

PG: 25/1

PG-13: 2/1

R: Even

NC17: 25/1

Vegas Math

Dave Law

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=

Weather as of 10:26 EST (7:26 Left Coast Time)...

Normally, rain doesn't bother me (I just listen to more Coldplay), but this week I have to contend with a blown lamp on my 50' Panasonic rear-projection LCD TV. Rain stinks if you've got no TV. I have to read for entertainment like some peasant from Victorian England or a nerd. If you're considering buying a TV before football season, check the local bulletin boards. (This information was not available to me 2+ years ago when i bought mine.)




"The coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco" - Mark Twain.




Golden Nugget: "Mark Twain" was a pen name and a 19th century euphemism for the modern term "taint".





Perfect weather for chillin' poolside. (Caveat: Don't click on that link if you're married to Big Thunder or Dave Law's mom).

Happiness

Dave Law's Mission:

Accomplished. We're #3!

The Daily Show At Its Best

I've promised Dave Law that I wouldn't get political on here (and hey, what are the chances TGS will even be around in 2008? If it is still around, it will probably be all about model ceramic lighthouses), but I can't resist sharing this clip (recommended by Lil' Thunder). It is the Daily Show at its best - hilarious as well as provocative. Enjoy.









Postscript - Seriously, though, this guy is the most powerful man in the world (aside from Kevin Federline)?

Ponger's Lament

I'm always disheartened when a vocal minority unduly influences the political process and subverts the idealistic paradigm of our beloved representative republic. The system has been doubly abused in the case of Belmar and Manasquan, New Jersey - two picturesque resort towns on the Jersey Shore. Last year Belmar outlawed the playing of beer pong outdoors. Apparently, Manasquan has now followed suit. As a seasoned beer pong veteran, host of a local beer pong tournament and a frequent visitor to both Belmar and Manasquan, I am outraged by the heavy-handed actions of the governing bodies of these towns, which benefit so richly from the influx of young professional renters and tourists like myself every summer (both in terms of dollars spent and usurious fines - I myself have been tagged in Belmar for a running total of over $700 in fines). Certainly, these ordinances must have been enacted in response to deafening public outcry. Not quite! According to the article linked to above, FOUR RESIDENTS OF MANASQUAN complained to the mayor! You've got to be kidding me! Four complaints precipitated a ridiculous, puritanical prohibition against fun.

Retina Burn (Supp.)

[Ed. Note: this post was drafted prior to Dave Law's mention of the same subject in the post below. Big Thunder regrets any repetitive Spiking, but he spent too much time drafting this to not publish.]


Here at the Spike, we try not to rehash news stories that everyone has heard about many times over, but this one is too much. As I'm sure you've heard, a guy named John Mark Karr was arrested for killing JonBenet Ramsey. You can read the details elsewhere, but my question is this. Have you seen pictures of this dude? Those eyes? Those eyes! They haunt! Is there any way the this guy hasn't killed a six year old girl? I mean, just look at him.

How is it that the following scene never played out?


The scene: The Boulder police department, late 1990s-early 2000s. Seargeant's office. In walk two detectives dressed in short-sleeve button down shirts and what appear to be clip-on ties. They sit across the desk from the sargeant, who is wearing a tweed sportcoat.

Boulder Police Sargeant (slightly balding, pushbroom mustache, drinks a lot of coffee): Do you have any suspects?

Young Detective (fresh out of police academy, distractingly handsome, either (i) naively idealistic, or (ii) a rebel against all superiors. I'm gonna go with the latter for the sake of this scene): Yeah, we got suspects. The father did it. Case closed, old man.

BPS: Hmmm... That is a likely story. Keep looking at that one. But is there anything else? Let's not overlook anyone.

Middle Aged Detective (Early 40s, knows office politics, nerdy, preferably a minority): Well, we're checking on the older brother. And the mother too.

BPS: OK, I agree that the family is a good place to focus, but what about outside the family? School? The neighborhood?

YD (temper beginning to flare): Don't be ridiculous, Sarge, we got it under control!

BPS: Settle down, Malone. [ed. note: YD is named Malone] We're on the same team. Now, are there any neighbors or schoolteachers with "crazy eyes?"

MAD: ... Come to think of it, there is a neighbor who looks exactly like a child molester.

BPS: Does he have three names?

YD (bolting out of his chair): DAMMIT SARGE! YOU'RE OUT OF ORDER!

BPS: Malone, what the hell are you talking about?

MAD (after calming YD down): ... Now that you mention it, I think he does have three names.

BPS: Uh-huh. And where is he now?

MAD (starting to fidget in his chair): He left town.

BPS (frowning): And where did he go?

MAD (after a nervous sideways glance at his partner): Um, to the place that is the center of the world's child sex trade.

BPS: ... And he's not a suspect?

Detectives : *nervous silence*

BPS: Listen guys, there have been some stoners smoking the pot in the park recently. I'm gonna have to take you off the Ramsey case. I really need you to help put an end to Boulder's marijuana problem...



Its not only the eyes. Or the three names. Its the the fact that he weighs 88 pounds and wears his pants at armpit level. Only two populations fit that description: people who know pi to the seventeenth digit and people who have killed a six year old in her basement. Not that those two populations are exclusive (I'd draw a Ven diagram if I had the time).


After writing this post, I feel like I need to take a shower. I feel that my best bet is to follow again follow in the footsteps of DL, and go Biel all up on this Spike.

Ahhhhh...

Retina Burn

After BT's disturbing chupacabra pic from the left coast, I needed to act quickly to cleanse the visual palette. I offer this pic of Jessica Biel from the NYC premeire of The Illusionist (East Coast). I've overheard plenty of locker-room arguments about whether Jessica is hot or not. Personally, I've always found the lass attractive (although, not quite hot enough to participate in any of those arguments). Nevertheless, I think this pic does a fine job of distracting our readers from the dead chupacabra head below!

While I was surfing the news sites today, I also happened upon a picture of John Mark Karr, the perv who allegedly killed JonBenet (Ramsey - so there's no confusion as to which JonBenet I refer). These guys always fit the bill! In this case, Karr looks exactly like what I would think a child molester would look like. This guy was a teacher?!? Who would let their kids alone in a room with him? I'm intentionally not including a pic of this guy b/c the purpose of this post is to move the blog away from disturbing, creepy pictures. (See Jessica above - ahhhhhhhhhh, better).

Official TGS Business

Let it be known that the Big Two have officially decided upon a mascot for The Golden Spike. We have chosen a beast whose ferocity is rivaled only by his rugged good looks. A beast who will be loyal to the Spike through thick and thin, who will respect the Big Two always and represent them well. Without further ado, let us introduce this legendary creature:



His name? Spike (duh). Please join us in welcoming Spike into the TGS fold.

Also, as a postscript, I should note that there was competition for the position of TGS mascot, although it was relatively weak. Please see below the two runners-up:





As I told them this morning, tying for second place is like tying to be the first loser.


UPDATE: After further review, the first runners-up pictured above, have been determined to have actually been second runners-up, trailing not only Spike, but also this fellow:





Our first runner up (who admittedly has seen better days, but c'mon, he's better than the second runners-up) was apparently about as friendly as he looks.

In Case You Are Wondering About The New Subtitle

I really like the use of the subtitle of a blog as a place to rotate semi-humorous phrases. A little golden nugget for you. Anyhow, here is the basis of the latest subtitle.

Remarkable!

This picture perfectly captures the dream-like expression that I make after gorging myself on birthday cake, as well as the hard-to-contain-my-disgust expression that Lil' Thunder makes at the very same moment.
















You know, if I was a Panda. And if Lil' Thunder was Asian. And a man.

in Bocca al Lupo

As the first-born, first-generation American son of an Italian immigrant, it is incumbent upon me to comment on the extraordinary success of the Azzurri! I cannot remember the last time I witnessed such a dominant defensive combination as Fabio Cannavaro and Gianluigi Buffon. Their performance was truly a pleasure to behold from the friendly confines of our local pizzeria here in the dirty jers.

Inane Question So I Can Say That I Posted To TGS Twice In 24 Hours

Buttered popcorn flavored Jelly Bellys. Yay or Nay?

Its Never Sunny In Pittsburgh

Dearest loyal spikeheads,

The following diatribe was baked up at 7 am in the Pittsburgh Int'l Airport. Please enjoy and understand that the punch-drunkenness takes a serious toll.




Greetings from beautiful Shittsburgh, PA. Big Thunder here, airport bloggin’ with the ever-faithful Lil’ Thunder at my side. Just got off a nightmare flight that has me feeling like I just went headfirst through an old lady’s windshield.

Travel back with me to a time, roughly 6 hours ago, when Lil’ Thunder and I were about to board our flight east (Note that by this time, the flight had been delayed, causing the Thunders to reschedule their connection, and causing your faithful correspondent to polish off a number of pints of Stella, you know, to take the edge off). As we check our boarding passes, we see that – could it be? – we are in row 4. Now this plane is a big mommajomma, mind you, so it’s a near certainty that they have four rows of first class. Note the word “near” in the previous sentence. As we round the corner down the main aisle, we count them: one, two, three rows and the dreaded wall. Not good times. Row three consists of a young family with mom and two daughters wearing matching fuzzy pink sweatsuits.

As I eased my Thunder into the middle seat (Note that Lil’ Thunder also had a middle seat – none of our rowmates were particularly inclined to accommodate a seat change) and realized that my knee would not extend beyond a 90 degree angle for the next 4.4 hours, I peered into the first class cabin, and the grumpiness set in. Lucky for me, said grumpiness was in no way magnified by the fact that Mr. Windowseat chose to thrust his knee a solid 4 inches over the property line. Mind you, dear readers, that your faithful correspondent is not erroneously named. The “Big” in BT is spot on. I therefore typically choose to occupy roughly all the allotted space in an airplane seat. So an invasion of my territory by a foreign and hostile body part is not welcome. This will not stand, you know? This unchecked aggression will not stand, man.

The only good part of the flight was that it left at about midnight, meaning your correspondent was out like a light, despite his pretzelline pose. However, he must relay what happened upon awakening to a virtual grope from Mr. Windowseat. Big Thunder looked ahead into The Cabin On The Other Side Of The Dividing Wall Where The Beautiful And Clean-Smelling People Sit. There, in row 3, was the Elder Jumpsuit Daughter (EJD). BT did some rough calculations, and the results appear below.

Ass-to-seat ratio:

BT 1/1.04
EJD 1/14.79

In other words, your correspondent was unabashedly jealous of this 8 year old’s seating chops. Not just that, but over the course of the next half hour or so, EJD decided to display her near-boundless accommodations by reenacting Martin Brodeur’s top 10 greatest saves whilst in reclining position. By the time she got to the 1995 Stanley Cup glove save against Sergei Federov, Big Thunder had positively turned a certain shade of green. All the while, homegirl was slamming vodka tonics* whilst perusing some first class literature. Judging by the handsome thoroughbred on the cover, I'm guessing it must have been Barbaro’s autobiography. He’s had a lot of free time since the Preakness.

All in all, a flight to forget. However, with the reward of an enjoyable party with Dave Law in the future (hopefully a deodorized Dave Law at that), things can only be looking up. [Ed. note - also at said party were Budds and EJ of Sportsmeat, the Blog fame.]





* Please note that there is a slim chance that she was drinking Sprites, but I’m telling you, by the end of the flight, the bitch was wasted.