I know I got skillz man, I know I got skillz

Not one, but TWO Shaq songs popped up on my way to work this morning. UNbelievable. And the one referenced in that title wasn't even one of them. In the interest of full disclosure though, it IS one of my cell phone rings. Which may or may not have gone off really loudly in my 9 a.m. Corporations class last year. Twice. In the same day. I rock so hard.

I really don't have anything important to say. I'm just having quite possibly the best hair day of my life, and wanted to document it.

I intend to watch the Nets tonight from one of my favorite downtown NYC bars. It is one of my favorites because I can play beirut there. And I have dominated in very convincing fashion in this venue. Currently I'm looking for more challengers for this evening...I'm in the mood to make a night of dominating. Really, I just like to say "dominate." DOMINATE.

Started questioning my moral character last night when I was suprisingly happy to see the return of "To Catch a Predator." I used to get all uppity with people who chastised me for watching, saying that I was really just happy to see these perverts get caught and punished. But last night I realized there's a mild feeling of glee that goes along with it too. My thought process is sort of like, "Ha ha, you thought you were getting some sweet 13-year-old ass, but now you're just going to jail...I LOVE YOU, CHRIS HANSEN!!!" OK, not really, but...well, they're pervs and they get what they deserve...and they also get humiliated in the process! Maybe it's exploitative and voyeuristic, but...whatever dude, these assholes get what they deserve. And if anyone finds this site by searching for "sweet 13-year-old ass," I am SO turning you over to Chris Hansen. (Note: Dear perverts, I am kidding, I do not really check that sort of thing...please do not stalk and kill me. Thank you. Love, Becky) 8-year-olds, dude....

I'm not a NASCAR fan, never have been...I don't even think I know any NASCAR fans. Except for maybe a certain Saigon Whore who claims to be a fan, although I never saw her watch any NASCAR in the 1.5 years I lived with her. I think she just likes the idea of being the most unlikely and attractive candidate for the "white trash" label. But I digress. All jokes and criticisms aside, I have to gives immense amounts of proppage to ESPN. They set one of their "NASCAR on ESPN" commercials to "For Those About to Rock" and I will be goddamned if that commercial didn't actually make me think for a second, "Hey, I should check this out." Behold the power of AC/DC. (Get it?) Well played, ESPN.

My Super Bowl could get a little ridiculous. There's a $40 all-you-can-eat/drink thing at this one bar...but it doesn't start until the game starts. But to get a seat I'll have to go at like noon...which is fine, since the Nets play at noon and there are a couple other good NBA games to get me through the day. But combine the Nets-stress drinking with the pre-SB all-day-in-a-bar drinking with the during-SB try-and-drink-your-money's-worth drinking and then throw in the psychotic Bears fan contingent at this place and...well, if I make it out alive, I'll be sure to tell the tale. Or whatever I can remember of it.

OK, there is something that has bothered me for a really long time, only I've never brought it up to anyone. So it has just been nagging at the back of my mind for years now, and...well it's time I cleared the air. Because maybe if I talk about it, I'll feel better about it.
Here goes...
You know that song "Money Ain't a Thang" by Jay-Z and Jermaine Dupri? One line in this song has bugged the heck out of me for a long time now. A search around the various lyrics web sites turns up 2 versions of the line:

I'm the truth like air, got the proof and stay
fly
In the safest shit you could never
buy
Know why? Cause I write the songs that the
whole world sing
I don't know bout y'all but every night I
swing

vs.

I'm "The Truth" like A.I., got the proof and stay
fly
In the safest shit you could never
buy
Know why? Cause I write the songs that the whole
world sing
I don't know about y'all but every night I
swing

Now I have listened to this song many many many times, and I am 99.999% certain JD is saying the latter. And you know why this bothers me?
AI IS THE ANSWER. PAUL PIERCE IS THE TRUTH.
If freaking RAPPERS can't get the nicknames right and I can? Something is seriously askew.
I just needed to get that off my chest. Thank you.
You may now enjoy the video, which includes the 3 C's of great videos: Cars, Cash, and Cooch.


Update: Congratulations to Marcus Williams for his VERY prestigious selection to the Rookie Challenge team. Excellent choice. Please do not let him be traded by then (or at all). He might be my favorite active Net right now, or at least a close second to my love, Boki.

Like a struggling doctor, no patience.

My first disgustingly hungover day at work in quite some time. Yeah, I feel great. Note to self: when a crazy blond chick offers you a tequila shot and you have neither a penis nor a tendency to be bicurious...just say no.
Other note to self: don't come home completely hammered drunk and write emails, or they will come out like this:

ok so did you SEE what the nets just did? so not cool. 3 in a row
man. really relaly uncool.

Articulate I am not.

Additional note to self: watching a Nets game in the company of a boy you have just met is not the way to entice him. The need for anger management was not a particularly desirable trait the last time I checked.

Anyway, that makes 3 in a row. I was pretty sure about Larry's job status being pretty secure, what with built-in excuses by way of injuries, as recently as yesterday. But hot damn, what is he DOING? I just don't know. At least this game they were losing for awhile instead of just blowing seemingly insurmountable leads. FRUSTRATION.

Here's some more trade chatter.
Apparently the smart money is on Wince's days in the Swamp being numbered.
If Rod wants to give me a tall and talented Spaniard as an early birthday present, I would not be opposed. In fact, I'll even brush up on my 1 semester of Spanish. Buenos noches, Pau. Muchas gracias. Crema montada?

Also, Joumana wants to reconcile? Forget it, sweetie, you've been exposed as the psycho hose beast you are. Now get that divorce filing response so we can all have a little bit of voyeuristic fun.
(I'm not apologizing. Celebs deal with public intrusion into their private lives all the time. She's one of the biggest spotlight whores ever.)

On a somewhat related note, I don't know what made my friend send me this so many months later, but um...well, just see for yourself. Bitches is CRAZY, man. Athletes would be wise to avoid young self-important strumpets. As if they didn't know that already.... I know crazy in the head = crazy in the bed. But at least go for the low-profile type of crazies. Maybe a cutter the next time. Just a suggestion. Yeesh.

Learned late last night: Bears fans DO have confidence in Rex Grossman. Take THAT, NFL Network commercial! (I can't find the one that mentions Grossman on Youtube. Someone needs to upload that asap. Yes, I use "asap" phonetically. Don't act like you don't love it.) Apparently there's a strong feeling of optimism and Rexstacy's infamous misfires are attributed to bad play-calling and miscommunications. The general consensus is apparently that the Sex Cannon is about to make Peeton ask, "Kenny who?"
(It's OK, Kenny...I still think your tractor's sexy. What? That's not a euphemism? Darn.)

Catch 'em in the club throwin' pretty ass 'bows

Relevant title! Yeah! (OK, almost.)
I have to admit, I throw some 'bows in the bars/clubs. I can't speak to the attractiveness of my elbows, but I'm pretty, so perhaps my elbows are pretty by association. Anyhow, it's not specific to NYC. I used to do it in Ithaca too. But there are just some people (girls especially) who have an over-inflated sense of the personal space to which they are entitled. I find it to be my place in life to let them know that they do not, in fact, deserve a 10 foot radius. Sometimes it's of the "Oops, my bad!" variety, and other times it's more of the "No, you get the fuck out of my way" variety. Along those same lines, in getting back into my 3-day-a-week commute to Grand Central, I have reinvented my own special move. I like to call it the "No Bitch, You Get Out of My Way Maneuver." And I must say, I execute this with the utmost skill and dexterity.

I had a thought about leading into some Nets chatter with that, by making some sort of 'bows in the club/'bows in the game comparison. But really the team is just depressing me. Not that I am giving up. Only BAD fans do that. The news over the weekend about RJ's surgery kind of let the wind out of the hot air balloon though. (What does that even MEAN?) So there are injuries and they're missing 2 of 5 starters (and one of the remaining healthy starters is Jason Collins) so it's kind of forgiveable to lose games when the team is relying heavily upon the Boki & Marcus Show. HOWEVA. Losing 2 games in a row by 1 point when you are blowing 20 point leads and 11 point leads (with 4 minutes left) is unacceptable. It really looks like Frank needs to figure out some, ANY rotation, and make sure Kidd gets some rest. Because this whole "no running a play at the end and just giving it to Vince and letting him figure something out" plan just DOESN'T WORK. The Jersey Boys should have lost to the Knicks last week but somehow Uncle Cliffy pulled a 4-leaf clover out of his ass and managed to bat the disgusting VC miss into the hoop. There is no reason for someone other than Jason Kidd to run the offense. When you have one of the best point guards of all time on your team? You do NOT let fucking Carter play YMCA ball with the game on the line!

::sigh::

I am glad to see VC not starting in the All-Star Game. He's been underachieving and regressing. I understand he's going through a divorce and yada yada yada, but come on dude...someone needs to step up and be the fucking MAN, and there is NO reason it should not be you. Until you do that, you don't deserve it. And yes, I love Agent Zero as much as anyone (read: everyone) else, but I would say the same thing no matter who beat him out (by 3,010 votes no less).

My friend allegedly has a version of this video that ends with a shot of the "Wince" face and then a screen shot of the text "What happened?" Nobody wants to upload it though, so you'll have to take my word for it.

Yeesh.
Sorry the quality is low, but hot damn. Nasty. "What happened?" indeed.

Or, as a pro put it today:

And yes, we know Vince made the right play on the drive-and-kick to Williams for his 3 (98-89), the right play on the pass-out to Kidd for the 3 (109-106), and the right play to Nachbar for the corner 3 that could have iced it.

But a three-shot foul, 26 feet from the cup, with four on the shot clock (Baron’s, 104-99)? That weak runner that led to an open, transition 3 (Harrington’s, 104-102)? That charging foul at 1:39 that led to the tying score (Biedrins, 106 apiece)?

Is some demented person scripting this stuff?

"Demented." There you have it.

Normally, the chance to watch the Nets on TNT would be a good reason to stay in. But I feel like drinking and have been watching them regularly on League Pass (and the bar, of course) anyway. Seriously, that borrowed account is the best gift anyone has ever given me. It's also like that episode of Friends, where they get the free porn and don't want to turn it off because they're afraid it won't be there anymore when they try to turn it back on. I haven't been able to turn it off. To be fair though, the end of a Bucks game does not have nearly the same pizzazz as a Peter North money shot. (Yes, that's right- Peter North and the word "pizzazz" in the same sentence. Go ahead and try it, I dare you.) Long story short, I'll make the bartenders turn on the game for me but I won't get to hear the commentary. Small sacrifice for drinking, I say.

I know this is kind of old, and they could have done a LOT more in terms of making the article entertaining, but...well, it must be said: Real recognize real. I'm not sure why, but this warms my heart just a lil. Maybe not down to the cockles, but...close enough.

And there are bunches and bunches of trade rumors. I won't weigh in until I hear one that is kind of realistic. Interesting though that they are playing the Clips tonight and I've been seeing Carter/Williams for Maggette/Livingston rumors. I think giving away Marcus is a bad idea. But as usual, no one is asking me. That's alright, though. If something gets done (and I have a sneaking suspicion something WILL go down before the trade deadline), I'm sure it will be a smart move. In Rod we trust.

Apropos of absolutely nothing...
I wish to register a COMPLAINT.
Ahem.
Girls. Listen up.
NOT ALL BOOTS ARE MEANT TO HAVE PANTS TUCKED INTO THEM, AND NOT ALL PANTS ARE MEANT TO BE TUCKED INTO BOOTS.
It's a hot look, but only if you do it correctly. Otherwise, you look stupid. I would say about half of the chicks in NYC currently look stupid. Fix it, please, so I can stop rolling my eyes and shaking my head at complete strangers and to no one in particular.

(I have a cd where they perform this live and Cleese freaking LOSES it in the best way possible from the very beginning. He walks in all pissed off to start and just YELLS, "I wish to register a COMPLAINT!" That's where that came from.)

Too hot to handle, too cold to hold....

Here's a little recap of the Nets' ugly-ass win over Charlotte last night.

I had the pleasure of watching this game via my borrowed League Pass subscription (many many thanks to the current love of my life). The first half I, forever the diligent student, watched in class. Being that it was a class on divorce mediation, and I feel these skills will someday come in handy, I actually paid attention for about 5 minutes. I also had a few IMs going. But JKidd looked like a man on a mission, and that mission was "giving a shit about winning games." Excellent mission choice, Jason. I approve. I came home to watch the second half and they were just cruising...and then it all started to fall apart in the 4th. I am sure everyone who gives a shit about the Nets has already read about the ridiculous "Hack-a-Collins" trick the Bobcats pulled...and it's amazing no one has done this yet. I've been saying for years that Twin is an offensive liability. I named his mere existence as a current problem facing the Nets in a recent post. (And no, I don't ever link to my own posts because I find it to be gratuitous and self-involved. What's that? Writing a blog to begin with often entails both of these things? Well I'm not a blogger, I'm just a chick w/ a laptop and nobody to listen to her rant. So there.)

Anyhoo. The Nets tried their damnedest to blow this game, but won in spite of themselves. As soon as it was obvious what Charlotte was doing fouling Collins (and it was immediately obvious), he should have been taken out. Or AT LEAST once he missed the first two, and badly at that. Anyway, apparently they were all cutesy and joking around about it afterwards. That's nice. Glad to see you boys are in such good spirits despite blowing a 20+ point lead to a team that gives Jake Voskuhl playing time.

After warming up his audience, Collins continued: "Maybe next time I'll take a couple steps back, maybe go into a crossover, a little VC action. I was thinking of doing the Harold Miner around-the-back, doing the RJ (Richard Jefferson), where you close your eyes. It's not like I don't practice. I shoot 200 free throws a day. It's just a matter of making them."

Oh, you think so, Doctor?

Also of note:

"We did what we had to do," said Jefferson, who had a poor offensive game (2-for-9) but held Matt Carroll to 3-for-11.

Offense? Pshhh, who needs offense? As long as you contain the force of nature that is Matt Carroll! Keep up the good work, RJ!

Yuck.

Any Sonics fans out there? Watching the local broadcast of their game the other night, I caught a magnificent commercial for 80s Night at the Key. I can't find it anywhere though. I have this compelling urge to see Johan Petro do the Robot again though and I need to be sated! Anyway, all I've got is this pic of him and the highly underrated Nick Collison:

What's that? Collison is not underrated? Fine, I guess I just have a soft spot for tall, good-looking white guys. SUE ME.

Digression:
Overheard before class today:
Cool dude #1: Yo, you gonna watch any football this weekend?
Cool dude #2: YEAH man, are you???
Cool dude #1: Yeah I am!
Cool dude #2: It's gonna be sweet.
Cool dude #1: Dude, I KNOW.

Overheard after class today:
Awesome girl #1: Yo, I like this professor.
Awesome girl #2: Yeah, he's great. He's really smart.
Awesome girl #1: Yeah, he's like...EDUMACATED. He's REALLY edumacated!

One more semester, one more semester, one more semester...

As an aside, I apologize the titles of posts give absolutely NO indication as to the subject matter whatsoever. They're always just lyrics or movie/TV quotes that I hear earlier in the day that stick in my mind. So...yeah, that's that.

OK kiddies, Becky is off to get her drink on in a hardcore way. Sadly this might postpone the viewing I have been looking forward to since last week.

Note to self: stretch calves before bed.

Aw no, she ain't a ho, she's just a badd bitch....

Once again I have returned home to my apartment too inebriated to do the work I had on the ol' things-to-do list.
Not only am I useless, I'm also going straight to hell for laughing my ass off at completely inappropriate jokes all night. Luckily though, they only referred to tragic accidents and not, say, spousal abuse. Because that would be wrong.

This spot has gotten very basketball oriented of late, which is probably a good thing. But with all the negativity surrounding so many teams/players/people in my life in recent days, instead of delving into allll of that, I'm going to throw my own brand of warm fuzzies up in this piece.

(If you want an intellectual take on the Kidd Family Drama, TrueHoop blew me the fuck away today.)
(If you want an intelligent take on Tuesday night's game that I had the, um, "fortune" to watch, Joe broke it down all nice-like.)

Anyway, in no particular order, here are a few random things that made me smile in the last couple days:
:)

*Buy-backs- when a bartender lets you know they appreciate your alcoholism.



*Being able to do exercises I was unable to the last time I tried- maybe it was the fact that less than 3 months elapsed since my last workout, maybe it was the B-12; either way, I would have flexed in a mirror if I were that type of gal.

*Ranch dressing- because fuck the diet, that's why.

*The first snow of the season- it was flurrying while I walked from Grand Central to my office and I'll be damned if I didn't grin like an idiot the whole 2 blocks. And I lived upstate for 3 years and generally despise the frigid cold.



*Self-validation- when you're not even feeling sad or insecure and someone calls you up to tell you what a fabulous girl you are and that you don't need any "make-up or push-up bras like the rest of the girls in the city" to be beautiful, especially since you are additionally intelligent and awesome...well, that just rocks. Um, even if it is your dad.

*The way I look in a headband- I might be alone in this one, but I'm pretty sure it's adorable.

*Large lecture classes- because then you never have to go!

*Fat-Free Half & Half- undeniably awesome.



*More self-validation- hearing you have been helpful or useful at a job that you are pretty sure any reasonably talented law student could do just as well as you on any given day. Or any reasonably talented...monkey.

*Jamaican dog-sledding- No, really! There's a Cool Runnings joke in here somewhere and probably some others that are easy and/or distasteful...however, tonight we'll just go with the feel-good story aspect of this and say how fantastic it is that doggies are getting saved and then attached to scooters for the love of competition.
This is Smiley:

I love him already.

We ain't acrobats but we flip on occasion.

For those of you scoring at home, that is:

1 moody SG in a contract year and going through a divorce;

1 potentially bisexual SF possibly causing locker room discord on a gimpy ankle;

1 impressionable young C out for the season with an el knee;

1 team captain PG embroiled in a domestic/legal dispute; and

1 PF who is Jason Collins.

Not to mention a bench that has no set rotation.

Ummmmmm yeah. This I gotta see. I'll be at the bar watching with the usual crack team of myself and...myself.

Guhhhhh.

Won't say sorry when she offends....

Well, I am sad to report that watching spiders, yes, even loopy spiders, has sufficiently skeeved me out way too much for me to be able to sleep.
Luckily, tomorrow is only the 2nd day of school and I don't have class until 11. So I'm gonna watch "The Producers" and write a bit about my favorite board-busting geriatric since Michael Cage, Uncle Cliffy.

A couple days ago, NetsDaily under one item posted 2 links to 2 different Uncle Cliffy-related stories. Usually the different crap under same headings are somewhat related. These though...not so much.

The first story is of the light-hearted variety, tracking the history of the headband usage by His Cliffyness. It even gets into the history a bit, noting that Slick Watts tried wrapping duct tape around his head before realizing that hey, there might be a better way to do this.... It's a bit of a strange tale, and really ages The Spliff, as headbands were apparently seen as rather uncool at the time, and his first NBA-worn headbands happened to fasten with freaking VELCRO. But it's cute. Yet I'm slightly disappointed by the weak trash talk thrown around the Association back in Medieval Times.

That did not spare him from heckling.
“I used to get killed,” Robinson said.
He heard comments like, “Take that stupid headband off,” or “You look ridiculous in that headband.”
“I heard a little bit of everything,” Robinson said.

That was way harsh, Tai.
Or, in the alternative, "Hazel really puts your mother to shame."
Either way, many before-my-time props to Cliffy for being a motherfuckin trend-setter.
May I formally request he be the one to finally bring the flat-top back???



While we're here, Robinson's Wikipedia page mentions something about an "on-court dance of the same name [Uncle Cliffy]." Unfortunately, a quick perusal of Youtube/Google/etc. has turned up nothing and much sadness was felt throughout the land of Becky. The best I could do was some German/Austrian/Swiss...something. This will not do. Populär gemacht indeed.

The 2nd Cliffy article was really a much more broad article in the Daily News the other day, inspired by the Darrent Williams tragedy. It's actually a very, I think, quality read about how certain cities are much more dangerous for athletes based upon the types of markets their teams are in. A couple of the dudes interviewed for the column point out that in a huge city like NYC, athletes can go out to the clubs and aren't necessarily a spectacle because there are also rock stars and movie stars and washed up pop stars flashing vag. But, they explain, in a city such as Denver, athletes are the biggest celebs and, as Brandon Short says, the "big dogs in town." The socio-economics also come into play, as always, and really, just go give it a read. I'm surprised to be saying it myself about something I read in the freaking NY Daily News, but it's multi-faceted and quite interesting. Not to mention there is a nice city-by-city breakdown at the end that is a little bit thought-provoking, if nothing else. I will say this- the day after Williams was killed, my best friend pointed out the Julius Hodge incident wasn't too far away and posited it had something to do with Denver. I'm sure it's a bigger issue, but...well yeah.

To go on this same theme but to lighten it up and stay on track w/ the Cliffyness of the post...

A mature athlete simply knows he can't afford to fight anyone, says the Nets' Cliff Robinson, a 17-year veteran who started his career with his own cautionary tale.
During his rookie season, Robinson hit a female police officer in the head as she and her partner tried to break up a fight outside a Portland bar at 3:30 a.m.
"That stigma of being a troublesome guy stays with you a long time," he says. Robinson was in a well-known troublespot that night and has long said he reacted to a mouthy patron when the fight began. "You learn you have to be careful of what you say to people, and when they say something to you, you have to be able to walk away," he says.

Well...I'm not sure bitch-slapping Officer Sugartits is entirely the same thing, Cliff. But point noted. I don't like mouthy patrons either.

Just for the record, the illustrious RJ was also questioned.... He comes through with the typical goody two-shoes response, of COURSE:

Some cities might have reputations for being more dangerous, but the Nets' Richard Jefferson says it doesn't matter where a professional athlete goes if he makes poor decisions.
"There aren't many clubs in the country that don't have VIP areas" to separate the fans from the famous, he says. "Trouble's going to find you."

Sorry RJ, but something tells me most athletes don't adore the Meatpacking District as much as you do. Or, you know, at ALL.

And in case anyone was really wondering what hardships were faced by morally grounded kickers...

"You get caught up a lot of times in old relationships you had before. A lot of guys can't cut loose those relationships because they're their boys, their friends. They're worried people are going to say, 'You big-timed us.'"
Feeley says he learned how painful it can be when he went to visit a high school friend back in Tampa and learned the friend was dealing drugs. He immediately ended the relationship, he says, and was accused of turning his back on his friends.

Maybe it's just me, but Feely's tale has a distinctively After-School Special overtone, and really...I just want to give him a big hug. Wait a minute...no I don't. Notwithstanding, I myself have never been big-timed before, and would like to try it out, if anyone knows what that entails. It sounds like a good time.

Anyway, the bottom line- just be careful out there. And maybe just...I don't know. The necklace thing seems to be a recurring problem. If it's big enough to snatch off your neck that easily...well don't drop millions on it. Or don't wear it where someone might want to steal it as a status thing. Or...fuck, I'm not gonna act like I have any clue. I'm a suburban white girl who dances w/ her fingers in the air. (What can I say, I like to boogey.) So things like this make no sense to me:

"Athletes are easy prey," says Rob Johnson, a self-styled New York street agent with ties to numerous NBA players. "They have money and everybody knows it. Street culture has a mentality all its own: you get points for robbing famous guys."

I don't even know what the fuck a "street agent" is, let alone how to self-style oneself as such.

What I do know? Is the Feely Kicking School is funny, although I'm not sure why. Because fuck the Giants, that's why.

ooooohhh...

I JUST realized how easy it is to post YouTube videos!

Here is the JKidd ridiculousness from Friday night (at the 1:30 mark):



And here, for your consideration, are some spiders on crack:

Thank you sir, may I please have another?

Demoralized.

That's the only way to describe it.

I'm completely hammered and have all this work to do...and yeah, it's just not happening.

I wish I could say this went down in a way that was in any way a surprise. But it was entirely fitting. From the opening touchdown drive to the red zone futility to the series of boneheaded penalties to the sudden flash of brilliance...no, wait, make that the sudden flash of competence shown by Eli when it seemingly mattered, to the complete collapse by the defense setting up the utterly predictable game-winning Akers FG. It was all so foreseeable, I swear it was a replay of one of at least 5 other recent games. Ugh.

The utter schizophrenia of the qb is starting to get really irritating. It's not a question of whether Business Eli or Pouty Eli will show up on a game-to-game basis, it's a question of which will show up on a quarter-to-quarter basis.
I like seeing Shockey bitch at him. As much of a douche as Shockey may be perceived as, he's a fucking manimal who keeps going on a drive even when he loses his helmet and actually GIVES A SHIT. I'm not sure if Eli's dismissive "Yeah" to Shockey was out of not caring or out of frustration, but...I don't know. So much wrong with one team.

My friends have decided to lead the call for the Fire Tim Lewis movement. I think he has enough built-in excuses (i.e. injuries everywhere) to stay employed, but...well, there is a fair amount of ineptitude on the defensive end that it would make at least some sense.

Oy. Anywayyy. I think I need to refrain from reading any recaps or blogs or IMs or anything. It's gonna take a few days to get over this one, since once again they found a way to drag me right along with them up until the very end. As I said throughout the game though, as I tied, untied, retied, and untied the noose repeatedly, it was probably time to euthanize this season anyway. The Giants need to shore up on offense, defense, and all sides of coaching. Until any of that starts happening, or the official off-season (for everyone) starts, I'm done talking football. Be gone, GMen, allow me to live a sane life again.

This is what happens, Larry! This is what happens when you find a stranger in the Alps!

I just arrived back at my perch adjacent to both television and computer, turned on both, and found the special SATURDAY edition of SUNDAY NFL Countdown...and I'll be damned if I didn't just get legitimately giddy. For some reason, I am particularly looking forward to this round of playoffs. There are enough teams that I like to root against as well as randomly like that I could actually have a rooting interest in most of these games. That never happens! I'm pretty clear cut where I stand in all of these match-ups...only here's a weird one. I like to root against the Jets. Jets fans get on my nerves a lot (it is no coincidence that they usually happen to also be Mets fans). However, guess which fan base is worse? That's right- the Disciples of Dreamboat. So there you go, Gang Green. I'm all yours tomorrow from the hours of 1-4. What's that? You don't want me? Ahh, that's a shame, I am pretty freaking awesome.

What of the Boys in Blue? No one is giving them a prayer, let alone a shot or a chance. Um, except Deadspin, but the pick somehow got lost in some kind of St. Louis Cardinals propaganda. How shocking. Even Philly fans, usually the poster boys of doom and gloom, are openly saying, "WHEN the Eagles win," and, "The Eagles will win," to me. They're not even worried about the SI jinx, which to be fair may have been more of a reverse reverse reverse jinx. Whatever THAT means. Anyway, it's all been said about the GMen. They suck, and they hurt my feelings, and they fell back asswards into the playoffs. But here they are, in the playoffs. Here's my feeling- it can't be any worse than last year vs. Carolina, right? Ugh. Yes, I have been walking around the last couple days literally nervous, with some non-literal butterflies in my tummy, strictly about this game. It's almost like the first day of school...where you're kind of excited but also totally filled with dread. In fact, I think that sums up this year's Giants perfectly. They will simultaneously excite you and fill you with dread, week after week.

In talking with my aunt last night, somehow the subject of football came up. This is strange, because this aunt is not the football fan aunt. It's also strange because she mentioned since they moved to Philly, she became an Eagles fan. Completely unacceptable. My uncle and cousins are Giants fans. Then again, I don't know what "fan" really means to her. She said some stuff about really liking Donovan McNabb, but how "nice" of a story this whole Jeff Garcia business is. I'm not sure exactly what that means, but...I'm pretty sure it means she's not really a Philly fan. ANYWAY. Since my cousins are old enough that none of them live at home anymore, my uncle apparently watches Giants games by himself every week from the comfort of their extremely lavish home ("lavish" being relevant because the TV situation is a fucking sweet set-up). I guess being in one's 50s (and not being familiar with these here interwebs and their intricate intertwining of sports fans) and watching games alone is kind of like being trapped in a bomb shelter or something. Because apparently he is constantly wondering aloud if anyone else can tell that Eli Manning is just "not very good" at football. "I don't think he wants to be out there," my uncle continuously says incredulously. "Can anyone else tell?" I assured my aunt that yes, some of us can indeed tell. I told her to pass the message along that he is not alone. Then I shook my head and stared off into the distance with a sad look on my face as a quick montage of Eli's season passed before my eyes.

When Eagles fans are optimistic and I'm staring off into the distance, nothing good can come. For anyone. I want to say it will be a huge letdown game for these Eagles and their *lovely* fans, but...I don't know. Do I think NY CAN win? Yes. Do I think they WILL? Ehhhhh. Fuck it, you know what? Yes. It's 70 degrees in January and the freaking golf course by my house is open. All things considered, a GMen victory against Jeff Garcia isn't all that inconceivable. (Yeah, they pulled me back in again. Fuck me.)

Anyone else catch this story today? I heard it on the radio when I was driving around. Despite the complete bludgeoning of Godfather jokes, I enjoyed it anyway.

The marijuana was actually hidden inside the cannoli, and there was "enough so someone could have a little personal consumption around Christmastime," Nassau County Police spokesman Kevin Smith said.

Awww, Long Island police spokesmen are so cute. I bet he followed that statement up with an elbow nudge and a "Wink, wink...know what I mean?"

Was there a voice unkind?

So I'm back home with ma and pa, having another lame night in. I just finished watching the Nets game. I wish I could watch all the games so I could run a game night feature entitled "Guess Which Players Cared Tonight." The answer to that little game on this first contest of the new year would be "Mikki Moore and Bostjan Nachbar." No, seriously. And Kidd went to work as always. The rest of the guys? Ugh. Uncle Cliffy gets a pass tonight though because it was his first game back from knee surgery. Vince - go to hell. RJ? You know, there was very little focus on him other than when he actually had the ball...I wonder if that was purposeful or just a broadcasting anomaly. Anyway, it was nice to see the horrific officiating work out in the favor of MY team for once. And I did see one of the sickest shots ever made when Kidd freaking shot the ball over his head facing away from the basket, seemingly without even looking and oh my goodness gracious. Top Play for sure.

Anyway, just as I was typing this, my mom told me to check out this diatribe from Joe. Her particular point of interest was the "1,000 lb pink elephant in the locker room." I would just like to point out that the official gay pride color is purple, not pink, mom. Sheesh. Now you're a racist AND a homophobe? Get some help. Just kidding, love you!

Man, if my mom ever actually read these things that I write...I shudder to think. I actually sent the url to someone I know for the first time this week because I had mentioned to my best friend in some context that I was blabbing to complete strangers on this thing (all 3 of y'all). I had started writing this thing in the interest of remaining completely anonymous and no one reading it...but if random people happened across it, at the very least no one I actually KNOW. I've put up a fair amount of embarrassing factoids, not to mention some pretty bitchy diatribes directed at other humans. And now that I think about it? How anonymous have I really been? You've got my name, my location, plenty of info re: my family and friends and schools and what not...I guess my point here is just "whoops." Because if anyone I knew were to find and read this, it would take them probably about 2 minutes to figure out it was me. I hope and pray this does not happen, but I realized it is possible. So if it does...well I've got no shame, give a holler and I'll make sure not to talk any shit about you. And Nesticle? If you made it past all the "sports stuff" and are actually reading? Hi, and love ya :)

This thing has gotten pretty stream-of-consciousness lately, which also happens to mean "annoying." In the interest of being a bit more coherent, I'm just going to write a bit more about the basketball and call it a night.

Annnnd I just remembered we have League Pass and turned on the Nuggets/Lakers game.

I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed the Charles Barkley Broadcast last night. Much liveblogging and commenting has been done in the past 24 hours with mixed but mostly positive reviews. Stuck at home as I was, I checked out MJD's liveblog over at the FanHouse and found it to be entertaining. I'm a big fan of the liveblog w/ live commenting. It's way less intimidating to do it over at the FanHouse than over in the Deadspin Live Comment Tailgates though. Spinners scare me. But no, this was like a little throwback to hanging out in AOL chat rooms back in junior high. Only way more dorky. MJD though, is indeed mighty.

Pina colada flavored yogurt is bizarre. I've never felt a yogurt was missing rum before.

Back to Barkley, I thought he was pretty decent. He mumbles a bit, but if you can get past that, he's entertaining as always. I'll admit to being a bit of a Barkley apologist (I may or may not own at least 1 of his books) but I honestly thought he did pretty well. Dick Bavetta could totally beat him in a race of any substantial distance though. Charles looked pretty winded at the end of that video of him running the bleachers in some stadium.

I should mention that Charles was filling in for the ailing Steve Kerr, if only because Nesticle thinks Steve Kerr is super cute. I don't really get that. Then again, I'm the one who said, "Brad Miller could give me the flu any time."

I found it a little strange that Charles kept saying how much more "mature" Kobe has become following the LAL/PHX playoff series last year, remembering that they feuded after Chuck made some comments about Kobe's shot selection (or lack thereof or lack of any shots or whatever). Meanwhile, he kept saying how mature he's gotten without mentioning the fact that Kobe didn't take a single shot until there were less than 2 minutes left in the first quarter. Would have liked some explanation there, Charles, because you did not make any sense. Basically, not shooting in the first quarter of a regular season game shows maturity grown from not taking any shots in the 4th quarter of a playoff game? I just gave myself a headache.

One other comment and then I will move right the fuck along away from a game that happened a long time before the one I am currently watching. Marv Albert jokingly said something about Barkley's playing days and said something about him being 6'1". Charles moved right along in the conversation and Marv pointed out that he was joking...and Charles moved on again. Did he not get the joke, requiring the explanation? Was he offended? Or is he really 6'1"? I mean, he was listed as what, 6'6"? And it was pretty well known that he was definitely shorter than that, but...6'1"? Really? To be fair, I think all guys exaggerate their height, unless they are really tall. But definitely any guy that is not a pro athlete (they have a separate scale with which I am not familiar), and who falls within the range of 5'4"-6'1", lies up. Some round up to the nearest inch, and some just add an inch or two. And yes, I am still talking about height. Pervs.

There is one thing about League Pass that irritates me. Commercials on local stations in other cities always make me hungry for food that is not available to me in the tri-state area. I hate that. I also hate Sonic, for advertising here anyway and then saying "HAHAHA THIS IS DELICIOUS AND YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY, BECKY." Fucking Sonic.

I do, however, very much enjoy the Carl's Jr. commercial where the dudes all shake the cows to the milkshake song. Not the most original idea, but...well, there's jiggling cattle.

So I haven't seen this anywhere else, but I think Marv mentioned last night that there is supposedly some sort of feud brewing between Mike Bibby and Ron Artest. And while MJD already beat me to a "Team Dime is not a gang" joke, I would like to at least get a non-joke 2 cents in and ask the basketball gods for this to please, PLEASE boil over at some point. Of course I am thinking more along the lines of a Zach Randolph/Ruben Patterson practice jawbreaker, and not so much of any actual gang warfare. Who will play the Qyntel Woods role and hold someone's arms behind their back, allowing their teammate to get a square shot in on the jaw? I can only hope for Kenny Thomas. Because, to quote one of my own tag lines from a couple years ago, "Kenny Thomas is the man."

These new NBA commercials really baffle me. Like I kinda get the Yao one, but the Luke Ridnour one, with the quote from the Book of Proverbs? Really bizarre. Is that the Association trying to appeal to the big time Jesus worshippers? Because even so, I feel they could do better than Luke Ridnour. Especially to go along with the quote, "Desire realized is sweet to the soul." I'm sorry, but who the fuck is associating ANYONE on Seattle with "desire realized"??? What desire have they realized? The desire to sign Andre Brown apparently. Or the desire to get blown out by the Knicks tonight. Weee.

I went to get my nails done today and while I was in the ol' pedicure chair (why do I hate that word so much?) an African American male walked into the salon. A dude in the salon always catches my eye, just because it's a rare sight. Then I realized he was going to the businesses in the shopping center trying to sell something, and he gives his spiel to the closest Korean woman. She doesn't understand him, so he goes down the line trying to explain to each person and I catch that he's actually trying to sell some Nets tickets promotional dealie. He finally lands on me, all frustrated, and I'm the only white person in the place and he asks all flustered, "Do you speak English?" Now, the fact that he walked into a nail salon to begin with does not speak highly of his level of intelligence, at least on these matters. So I contemplated playing the "I'm sorry, I don't watch sports" card so he would go away, since I hate HATE it when someone tries to sell me something. But I told him yes and he came over and started his spiel again and I decided to just level with him and let him know he actually stumbled across a huge Nets fan. Yada yada yada, whatever it was he was selling, I bought. It seems like a good deal maybe? 2 free tickets for $45 and under seats, and then 2 buy-1-get-1 tickets for $101 and under seats. Of course, they block out the games where they expect people will actually want to go, but there are a few games on there that intrigue me. He tried to sell me 2 of the things, but I told him it would be hard enough to find ONE person to go to a Nets game, let alone 2 or 3. I wish I could remember what marketing company he worked for so I could have some credibility here, but...alas, 'tis not to be. Anyway, it might be a good deal. I'm not sure. Either way, a dude came into the nail place and offered me a good deal on Nets tickets, and that never happens. So I got that going for me. Which is nice.

I'm going to go watch some more of the Lakers game and try and figure out whether I like them or not. Detestable as Mamba might be, he's damn sure compelling (and may or may not head up my roto team). Then perhaps I can sleep off some of my stupidity, that of the cause of completely missing an important doctor's appointment, losing my cell phone charger, and leaving my coat in the nail salon. I rock so hard. On an "at least someone is worse" note, my sister went to exchange some gifts and spent a few hours in the mall...and when she was on her way home, she called to say she accomplished everything she wanted other than the return of some gifts to the Gap. She said our mall doesn't have a Gap. Which, of course, it does, and we tell her as such. To which she responds indignantly, "NO, there's a Gap Body and a Gap Kids and a Gap Men and a Gap Women, but NO regular Gap."

Just for fun, and to make you bitter that you missed the deadline too, here's the link to the Jalen Rose Holiday Poetry Contest on his blog. I'm a little sad that I narrowly missed the chance to share some Hanukkah poetry w/ Mr. Rose. Fuck it though, nothing rhymes with Maccabee anyway.