Friday, June 27, 2008

I should have been a cop

When the police swing by the newsroom there is no shortage of great quotes that we could never run.

"Even when the bad guys take a day off we can still go up and screw with the hookers."

"Crime is up, business is good."

Monday, June 23, 2008

Victory tastes like dirt and sunscreen

Every once in a while the Wednesday Weekly takes a break from our usual tales of self-destruction to engage this fine community in some friendly sport-like competition — which usually leads to their own destruction.

While most of teams in this neighborhood fund-raiser event were made up of kids, adult and teens from the neighborhoods, there was one group of impostors among us.

The Federal Government, in it endless pursuit of Usama Bin Laden at Kickball Tournaments, entered its own team of investigators/dick heads. But for all of their strategy, muscle and athletic ability they failed to do one thing; Fear the Underdogs. They thought their deep bench and 10 people in the field was going to crush our band of usual drunks and misfits.

But this rag-tag bunch of journalists, high school athletes and friends dominated at the ancient sport of Kickball to take home to coveted Cars Trophy Ball.

Next year, maybe the government will send the Green Berets — they might have been a more suitable group of competitors.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Get Excited.


PARIS, TENN. — Trapped in in a Southern state with nowhere to go and no refuge in sight. Here I sit hiding in my hotel room after committing one blunder after another and seemingly burning every local I came in contact with.

I reek of The City in this town, where only the Churches out number the seedy Strip Clubs. The people here have no tolerance for tourists.

But when you build a replica of the Eiffel Tower in your city park, what do you expect?

We came here to escort our youngest sibling to show off his own basketball skills. From the beginning, things went well. We spoke quickly and with all smiles about Murray. But get outside the comforts of a college town we were mired in the hostile territory of the locals; where the wild things are.

The shades to the real window have been pulled shut with view of the local Huddle Hut and liquor store obscured by the thin curtains. The laptop provides my only good window to the rest of the world. And what should I find in my inbox but some of the greatest news filed on this vile recruiting adventure.

Gonzo does not die out here south of the Mason Dixon Line.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Thursdays suck

I don't have too many friends in the Northeast these days...

Mike,
I talked to you when you first started at the (Newspaper) and told you I didn't want anyone editing my stories or shortening them. Well, after waiting five weeks to squeeze in my story on (a deli) that's exactly what you did. You left out three paragraphs which ties the entire story together. It doesn't make any sense now. I was going to take copies to several people who do business with (the people in my story). I'm not now because, as far as I'm concerned, the story is ruined. I'd rather you throw my stories in the trash than edit them.
D(iva)
Writer

This e-mail was edited, not cared about.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Doofers on Ice

My roommate had taken to shouting, full volume, at the television every time anybody did anything.

"Icing, you Doofer sonofabitch!"
Icing, you see, was the only term we had learned as we attempted to watch Game Five of the NHL Finale. Normal TV had already scorned us with reruns and the News was still stroking out its huge erection it still had over Scott McClellan's new book.

So we were stuck. Stuck watching a league of bearded Canadians slap each other around on a sheet of ice for what would become double sudden death overtime - or something like that.

Red Wings vs. the Penguins — you remember, the team that blue balled the entire Kansas City metro area with the promises of sweet kisses and a new hockey team?

You would think we would be drunkenly cheering against the damned fools, but instead we found more joy in pretending the Penguins offered that reach around when they finished last year and actually moved to our fair city. Living a lie turned out to much more fun.

Well, it was when we could understand the what was going on before us.

"Where is the puck? Why are they going backwards? Who is this doofer with no hair?"

Wikipedia, in all its research and nerd-bearing glory, became our lifeline as we attempted to educate ourselves to this bizarre display of what equates to a back ally brawl.

Trust me, it's math.

Icing - I can see it. Interference - sure, I think I know what it looks like. Fleury - He's my favorite.

It did not take long for us to begin disturbing the neighbors and creating a scene as we would shout randomly, "ICING, goddamnit," or "That's interference, I think." or "DIG!" When a Russian or corner a Canadian against the wall.

What did it mean? Nobody honestly knows. Maybe we should have researched the Wiki a little more.

Why did we care? Probably the same reason any guy anywhere can turn anything into a sport and become enthralled for hours on end.

Dinner in the Hole, anyone?

What I do in a given day Vol. III

3) The Empire Strike Back - where Han is frozen in carbonite.

Ok, so the Carbonite is really Lime Jello that I froze. And, yes, Darth Vader is being portrayed by a Lego version of the Statue of Liberty. You are right, a Ninja Turtle might not have been the best stand-in for Han.

But since when have I ever been about "the facts."