I've added my old friend and ex-tag team partner Herb Urban (pictured) to the blogroll. His joint instantly becomes your go-to destination for all things John Oates. It's been a long time since we burnt Memphis to the ground...but Herb's always been there for the hot tag whenever I needed to make it and he gives the absolute best illegal leverage. You haven't lived until you've heard his whiskey-soaked, ragged-but-right throwdown of "If I Could Turn Back Time." Plus, it's his anniversary...so drop by and offer some congratulations for Herb and his hot, thoroughly undemanding wife.
You know things are unraveling for the Red Sox when Curt Schilling can't wait to change the subject to how his Fantasy Football team is doing. And...for the life of me...I can't imagine how I managed to leave Fantasy Football off the list of things that are currently driving up the wall about that particular sport. It's everywhere...jacking threads, derailing on-topic conversation. Everybody...shut up about your Fantasy Football team. Shut up...shut up...SHUT UP.
Oh...and speaking of unraveling...what a couple of games last night in the NL East race. Tonight becomes the biggest game of the year, maybe of the last five years, for the Mets. If Pedro can right the ship against the Marlins, that could be something for New York to rally around and inspire them to close the deal in the division. But if Pedro goes out tonight and gets shelled, the psychological damage could be worse than the hit they'll take in the standings. You know he's not ready to go nine...so at some point Pedro will have to come out and they'll turn one more time that overworked and highly combustible bullpen. September baseball, man...not even Dane Cook can spoil it (try hard though he might).
You know things are unraveling for the Red Sox when Curt Schilling can't wait to change the subject to how his Fantasy Football team is doing. And...for the life of me...I can't imagine how I managed to leave Fantasy Football off the list of things that are currently driving up the wall about that particular sport. It's everywhere...jacking threads, derailing on-topic conversation. Everybody...shut up about your Fantasy Football team. Shut up...shut up...SHUT UP.
Oh...and speaking of unraveling...what a couple of games last night in the NL East race. Tonight becomes the biggest game of the year, maybe of the last five years, for the Mets. If Pedro can right the ship against the Marlins, that could be something for New York to rally around and inspire them to close the deal in the division. But if Pedro goes out tonight and gets shelled, the psychological damage could be worse than the hit they'll take in the standings. You know he's not ready to go nine...so at some point Pedro will have to come out and they'll turn one more time that overworked and highly combustible bullpen. September baseball, man...not even Dane Cook can spoil it (try hard though he might). Cycling makes pro-wrestling look like a Straight Edge rave.
Not that it was anywhere near my must-see list...but there is now officially no reason whatsoever to see the "Sex And The City" movie: The only hot chick's character is pregnant and, thus, will most likely not be getting naked.
Who needs Peter? I mean, come on...Was there ever any question that Jan Brady was bi-curious? "Marcia, Marcia....Marciaaaaaa...:
Newt Gingrich has inspired me so much with his selfless plea for Americans to ask...nay, demand...that he run for President by opening up their checkbooks that I'm throwing this out there: You guys raise...tell you what...I'll low-ball it...five thousand bucks, send it to me, and I'll fly out to California and hit on Jennifer Love Hewitt. Same likelihood of raising the money, same likelihood of desired result. Where in the blue hell is Newt getting the idea that anybody wants him to be President, anyway? He's obviously spending way too much time at Peach Pundit.
Newt Gingrich has inspired me so much with his selfless plea for Americans to ask...nay, demand...that he run for President by opening up their checkbooks that I'm throwing this out there: You guys raise...tell you what...I'll low-ball it...five thousand bucks, send it to me, and I'll fly out to California and hit on Jennifer Love Hewitt. Same likelihood of raising the money, same likelihood of desired result. Where in the blue hell is Newt getting the idea that anybody wants him to be President, anyway? He's obviously spending way too much time at Peach Pundit.
Finally...Georgia/'Bama Quick Prediction tonight and, as always, watch out for the Yeti!
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