« Will Norah Jones Save the "Album"? | Main | I Had a Terror Warning...and it was all yellow »
February 27, 2003
when in doubt, just blabber
T minus 48 hours from departure to New York City, where I’ll be signing copies of my newest book, ‘Yes, I AM Gonna Pick At That, Your Point Is’’ at the Union Square Virgin Megastore. OK, so I’m really going with Jenny to take her to ‘The Lion King‘ to reward the completion of her thesis tomorrow.
While waiting for edits to a one hundred page book about needles (fun!), some thoughts...
---I tried to listen to that new Evanescence song on Launch.com this morning, and ended up getting a Spanish version of Shakira’s ‘Whenever, Whatever’ instead. This is musical equivalent of that old phone commercial where the guy tried to call Ft. Lauderdale and ends up calls Fiji. Cue the Comic Books Guy: ‘Worst’commercial’ever.’ The guy in the commercial tries to call his sister, ends up talking to a guy who answers the phone by saying, ‘Onnomanna peesai!’ Which is apparently Fijian for ‘Hooters, please hold!’ Point being, with all the annoying English words out the way, the Spanish version let me focus on the Latin hotness of Shakira, and suddenly the song didn’t make me want die a ‘Final Destination’-type death.
---You know, we’re on the precipice of war. Our very notions of freedom and democracy are at stake. We simply cannot allow totalitarian regimes to oppress their peoples, or to overtake our precious way of life. Because, if they do, we could no longer take place in vital, democratic processes like the one here. Think about it, people. (By the way, while we’re at it, Justin Guarini serves as a visual preview for Macy Gray if she pulls a Michael Jackson.)
---The Commander tipped me off yesterday that Jennifer Garner will star in a spinoff for ‘Elektra’. OK kids, if you don’t want ‘Daredevil’ spoilers, stop reading and skip to the next paragraph. Skipped it? OK. Alrighty, I’m as big a fan of another movie starring Jennifer Garner and barely there outfits, but did anyone else see the part in the movie where she was stabbed through the hand, then through the chest, had her throat slit, and then had her heart stop beating? Anyone? Bueller? And while we’re at it, I’m not a terribly big comic book reader, but I never knew the Kingpin had such shoddy knees.
---Dave Barry has a blog, which is high quality if for no other reason than he pointed me to this, which is the highest of high comedy. Oh lord.
---One of the best things about pro wrestling that sets it apart from all the other fake professional sporting ventures, such as pro basketball, is the ability to have a character "switch" alliances at the drop of a hat. You could be watching a tag team match, and boom, the Big Show turns heel and whallops his partner, creating a 3 on 1. Then the Big Show continues to bore me to death, only now I am supposed to boo his every appearance. I really wish this could happen in, say, baseball---Randy Johnson is pitching, bottom of the ninth to Barry Bonds, the game tied, and suddenly, Randy lobs a 65 mile a hour pitch which Bonds crushes into the next area code. Stunned, the Diamondbacks look to their pitcher, who TAKES OFF HIS JERSEY TO REVEAL A GIANTS SHIRT UNDERNEATH! He then greets Bonds at home plate, hugs him, and the two head to the dugout, taunting the Diamondbacks at the game goes off the air. That would rule.
Posted by Ryan McGee at February 27, 2003 10:46 AM
Comments
I got a mail order catalogue in the mail from Baseball Express last night. Had to spend the rest of the night that I really didn't need an $800 radar gun, or a $1500 pitching machine that pitches fastballs *and* curveballs, or a $2000 system to measure my bat speed, or "Under Armor" -- long-sleeved and T-shirts for warm weather, cold weather, and all weather which mold themselves to the contours of your body and provide shock absorbtion should you be hit by a pitch.
Granted, the last softball game I played in was in 2000, I went 1 for 3 and though more of the pitcher's pitches were aimed at me than at the plate, she was still throwing at about 40 mph, but it was still hard to convince myself that I strictly speaking didn't need any of it. Not even the Nomar Garciappara batting gloves...
Damn you, Baseball Express!
Posted by: Commander Foley at February 27, 2003 11:43 AM
Kikkoman!
This is the funniest thing I've ever seen.
Posted by: John at February 27, 2003 12:08 PM
Kikkoman may be the 21st Sgt. Kabukiman. It's true.
Posted by: ryan at February 27, 2003 04:42 PM