by Sterling Gould, More Credible
The Setting: The Simpson household in Los Angeles California. The house is pink, on Jessica's request. Ashlee's metaphorical "career grave" is in the front yard. Leaves are falling off of old trees, old people are complaining they can't chew on food. It's Thanksgiving at the Simpson's, we begin our tale as the happy half-ass couple walk through the front door.
Jessica Simpson: Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy's little girl is back!
Joe Simpson: It's so nice to see you dea-
Tony Romo: (wearing nothing but backwards franchise hat and jorts) WOOOOOO-EEEEEE HOW 'BOUT THEM COWBOYS? *bends knees, makes gun-firing gestures towards the ground*
Joe: (shocked) Tony?... It's nice to see you again... I think.
Tina Simpson: (yelling from kitchen) Who is it dear?
Joe: It's Jessica! The bank... err... our favorite first born is home!
Tony: (Fascinated with grandfather clock in the doorway) Does this thing distribute Gatorade?
Jessica: Oh, stop being so silly Tony! (looks back at father) Daddy, can I show mom that Tony's back?
Joe: Ummm... sure, but I don't know if her heart is ever going to settle...
(Jessica skips to the kitchen, which seems a mile away)
Tony: (moved on from clock, now fancies a record player in the living room) BADASS! I want to eat dinner with some White Snake and Twisted Sister!
Joe: (confused) I don't believe I have those albu-
Tony: WHERE'S YOUR SACK MR. SIMPSON? WHITE SNAKE IS THE BALLS.
Joe: The balls?
Tony: That means it's fucking amazing. Catch up to the lingo bag-of-coffin stuffing.
(Joe looks disgruntled, looks down at his watch asking himself how long he'll have to deal with the Cowboys Gunslinger. Tina and Jessica emerge from the kitchen, Ashlee walks from downstairs dressed in black)
Tina: Oh lookee here, it's my favorite quarterback!
Tony: And it's my favorite MILF.
(The two hug, Tina grabs Tony's ass. Tony isn't surprised because he expects every female to grab his ass. She winks at him after the embrace.)
Ashlee: Fucking whale's cunt. That arrogant asshole is back?
Tony: (acknowledges Ashlee with a nod, then looks back at the rest of the family) Hey! I didn't know that Jack the Pumpkin King was here!
(The family laughs, Ashlee is embarrassed)
Ashlee: (with tears in eyes) You're such a douschebag Romo.
Tony: And you're a lip syncing whore living in your sisters long shadow... YEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAW (bends Jessica over and mimics riding her like a horse).
(Family laughs again, knowing she was the mistake through wedlock. Jessica neighs.)
Ashlee: (bawling) I HATE YOU ALL. CHOKE ON CRANBERRY SAUCE. (runs back to her room to write lyrics)
Jessica: Oh no Tony! That wasn't nice at all. I'm going to console her (gets up from under Romo, trys to walk after her).
Tina: Oh leave her alone, she's been acting bitchy lately anyways.
Tony: YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT. There's no crying in football! Watch me chuck this vase through a wall (arms right hand with vase, throws it at the wall, only to have it shatter into pieces).
OH SHIT! I damn broke the sound barrier with that toss.
Joe: (not surprised at all from Tony's behavior) ...that was great Tony. Glad you're excited about yourself as a quarterback now.
Jessica: Tony's team is the best! What's their mascot again? That big person wearing a funny hat? Hehe! He's funny, but I'd rather him have been a kitty kat!
Tony: And I'd rather fuck you in the ear, but we can't always get what we want!
Tina: (under her breath) ...I wish someone here would fuck me anywhere.
Tony: WHEN WE EATIN'? I've got an appetite that'd embarrass Louis Anderson's. And I hope you got plenty of spiked Gatorade to drink!
Joe: Umm... yes, sure.
Jessica: Hehe! I like saying "sweet potatoes". Because they're just naturally sweet!
(everyone sits down in front of a meal, served by 28 maids and butlers)
Tony: GOSH DARN THAT'S A BEAUTIFUL BIRD. ALMOST PRETTIER THAN THOSE 4 TOUCHDOWNS I THREW TO T.O. AGAINST THE 'SKINS.
Pass the gravy Mr. Simpson.
Joe: Oh, sure Tony. Also be sure to try the mash potatoes. I made them myself... they're the balls?
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
THAT AWKWARD THANKSGIVING DINNER WITH TONY AND JESSICA
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
THE PROPHET'S TUESDAY TAPOUT: FAITH, HOPE AND CHARITY EDITION
by The Prophet, ProphetFighting
Welcome to this week's installment of The Prophet's Tuesday Tapout. It was a fairly slow week in the MMA world, so we'll concentrate primarily on boxing this week. Actually, we'll concentrate on the topic of greatest interest to the EC audience--"the future of fight sport journalism(TM)", otherwise known as yours truly. More specifically, I'll bring you a holiday message of hope and charity. As far as "Faith", here's her picture...
I want to express my appreciation to everyone who sent cards, letters and emails saying that they had their best Thanksgiving ever after reading my Tuesday Tapout from last week. Comments ranged from "wow, I'll never view Thanksgiving the same way again" to "I'm sick of Thanksgiving being all about someone else; from here on out its all about me". Of course I wasn't *completely* serious when I suggested that you should be completely oblivious to the needs of others on Thanksgiving or any other holiday. Thanksgiving and Christmas affords me the opportunity to give something back for everything I have been blessed with--my charm, my good looks, my Mensa level intelligence, my world class writing ability and my ability to still pull 20 year old girls at the age of 40 just to mention very few of these blessings. I could go on and on enumerating the personality traits that I'm thankful for, but as I said this is an opportunity for me go "give something back" and provide a little bit of "hope and charity" for those less fortunate. A hot chick like "Faith" obviously wouldn't be seen with someone who could be described as "less fortunate" so that's clearly an impossibility.
GIVING BACK: THE PROPHET'S THANKSGIVING OF CARING
Its become an annual holiday tradition for many to spend at least part of Thanksgiving and Christmas day feeding the homeless. You'll no doubt find it heartwearming to learn that I, too, help out in my own special way. Of course I'm not about to do something stupid like spend my valuable free time at a depressing homeless shelter or a scummy soup kitchen. So here's what I do--a couple of days before Thanksgiving I go by my local Publix grocery store and buy a dozen or so rotisserie chickens. I hate to have to buy them this far in advance, but clearly the grocery store is too crowded closer to Thanksgiving for me to have to deal with it. These chickens are fully cooked, so there's no problem just leaving them in the trunk of the car for a few days.
On Thanksgiving Day I start what I like to call my "drive by charity" route. After brushing the ants off of the boxes and hoping that they didn't make it inside, I put them in the backseat of my car. What's really sad about the existence that these unfortunate people live is that there's very few places in the part of town where the homeless congregate to buy a good cigar, or even a premium tequila or single malt scotch. To me, however, if my charitable work means that I must make sacrifices then, by dammit, that's what I'm going to do.
Since I won't be able to pick up any while I'm out I light up one of my $20 a stick Greycliff Espresso cigars and put a few more in the glove box for later. We talked awhile back about the importance of ignoring media hype dreamed up simply to make you fearful--like that whole bit of nonsense about "drinking and driving". I selected a bottle of tequila for the afternoon from the dozens lining the wall behind my home bar--since I was going to be among the poor and unfortunate for a few hours I didn't want to appear elitist by taking the most expensive bottle I had on hand (a $199 bottle of Cabo Uno). Besides, I was afraid someone might try to steal it and as you know the Cabo Uno is a *very* limited edition. Instead, I chose a bottle of El Tesoro Paradiso (retailing for a mere $112) along with an appropriate glass and took off for the proverbial "wrong side of the tracks".
THE PROPHET'S THANKSGIVING OF CARING: CHARITY BEGINS ON SKID ROW
First, the "charity"...what I do is find a homeless shelter or other place where a lot of winos congregate. I'll show down the car, roll down my window, and throw a chicken right into the middle of the gaggle of hobos. I'm sure some of you fed bread to ducks when you were a child--watching the bums scramble for this box of chicken reminds me of that. Of course the ducks weren't borderline psychotics with a history of violence, so I quickly speed off to the next such destination. Some years I'll actually keep the window rolled down and quickly shout greetings to the transients, but I had just had the car detailed and didn't want to run the risk of getting fingerprints on it. Actually, at one of my stops a guy did walk up to the car and try to thank me, but I had to ignore him since I was trying to get down on the USC/Arizona State game (I won with USC -3 but lost my play on the UNDER 51').
THE PROPHET'S THANKSGIVING OF CARING: HOPE = SELF RESPECT
And then, I move to the second part of "The Prophet's Thanksgiving of Caring" (another phrase that I'll have to trademark)--the "hope" part. The problems facing our homeless--mental illness, alcoholism, meth or crack addition, sexual promiscuity, poor manners, bad hygiene, and dirty clothes--are compounded because they've lost all hope and the self respect from which it emanates. So every year I do my part of help the flotsam and jetsam of society regain their self respect, and with it their lost hope.
At this point I'll drive back across town and stop at a 7-11 in a higher income zip code. Though I'm a good sized guy and a very capable fighter by this point I'm usually four glasses in to that bottle of tequila and not in any shape to introduce a gang banger to an anaconda choke. At the 7-11 I pick up a Slurpee for myself, and a bag full of the sort of staples we take for granted for my homeless brothers...er...my homeless distant cousins: smokes, beef jerky, potted meat, malt liquor like UFC sponsor Mickey's Big Mouth ("Get Stung"), the latest issue of "Scientific American", "Swank" and "Hustler" and so forth. My car restocked, I then drive back to the shitty part of town to begin my "mission of mercy".
People frequently ask me to articulate the difference in the mental makeup of professional prizefighters--your boxing and MMA competitors--and the sort of guy who gets in fights in bars. It is very simple: the bar patron fights because he is afraid, while the prizefighter fights because he knows no fear. The kind of fearlessness displayed by warriors like Shane Mosley, Miguel Cotto, Fernando Vargas and Randy Couture is a by-product of years of developing self respect through training and discipline. It is the sort of toughness, heart, desire and courage that few of us mere mortals will ever know--but you've got to start somewhere and I'm determined to set at least a few hobos on the right path.
In the crucible of the prize fight ring, champions are forged. And no situation reveals the depths of a man's heart and soul like hand to hand competition with a highly skilled equal. Few of us will ever know what that is like--to compete on the highest level where talent alone doesn't get the job done. It is a place where heart, determination and character are the only things that separate two equally skilled warriors from one another inside the ring or cage--the winner can then say that they've been at a point where they looked down into the deepest recesses of their psyche; the same places that have enabled our species to survive and thrive on this planet. And they can then claim something that no one can ever take from them--that inside the heat of a contested battle their will was equal to the task.
I'm not kidding myself that the sort of sad tramp that sleeps in his own puke and feces every night will ever have the foggiest idea of what I'm talking about. Still, there's no reason they can't benefit from being in a good fight. So I go to the city park favored by the "dumpster dwellers" and pair them off: two will fight for this ant infested box of chicken, two will fight for this carton of L&M's, two will fight for this bottle of "Night Train", two will fight for this bag of porno magazines, and so forth. I typically try to keep the fights fair and contested under the unified rules of MMA but soon the task becomes far too daunting as the event degenerates into a full fledged brawl with every wino in the park throwing punches and trying to choke each other out. Had I more time I would have tried to work with some of them on proper technique, but since I had a date that night with a 25 year old yoga instructor I simply didn't have that luxury. Instead, I finished videotaping what had now become nothing short of a riot in hopes that one day I can submit the footage to the Nobel Prize committee. I then quickly flee the scene before the authorities arrive.
Clearly I wouldn't go anywhere near the aforementioned park after dark but I can envision in my minds eye what transpires later that night. The defeated bums who've regained consciousness are treating their wounds, vowing to train harder and to dig deeper the next time their in a fistfight for a six pack of Colt 45. The winners are enjoying the spoils afforded to the victor, be it potted meat, malt liquor or a Phillies Blunt and basking in a renewed feeling of self respect.
Most of the year I'm busy with writing, eating out at pricey restaurants, smoking fine cigars and sipping expensive cocktails at trendy bars in the company of leggy twentysometing women in tight dresses. I just don't have the time to help these people but you can be damn sure of one thing--that even when I'm enjoying a martini with an aerobics instructor named Misty in my lap that my heart is with the winos and bums in that park across town.
THE FIGHT GAME WEEK IN REVIEW:
Slow week in the fight game--the highlight was probably the PPV card last Friday headlined by Fernando Vargas v. Miguel Cotto. Vargas, who's long been a favorite of fight fans for his heart and toughness, had announced that this would be his last fight and true to his word he retired afterwards. Cotto won by majority decision in a surprisingly entertaining fight. Actually, this entire PPV was surprisingly entertaining--on the undercard Kermit Cinton got all he wanted and then some from his hand picked "tune up" opponent for an upcoming fight with Paul Williams. His opponent, Jessie Feliciano, had taken the bout on short notice and didn't get the memo that he was supposed to be cannon fodder for Cintron. Feliciano fought like a crazed wolverine until the ref stopped it in the 10th after Cintron started unloading on him. Also, Roman Karmazin looked very good in stopping Alejandro Garcia by third round KO.
In MMA, the biggest news was the injury to Matt Serra that forced him to pull out of a UFC welterweight title defense against Matt Hughes on 12/29. Faced with the potential for another subpar PPV UFC President Dana White pulled one out of his ass when he announced that Georges St. Pierre would face Hughes for an interim title with the winner to fight Serra down the road. GSP was the only guy around with the balls to fight Hughes on short notice, and it promises to be a better fight than the one originally scheduled.
That's it for this week--see you next Tuesday and as always stay on top of the latest news in boxing and MMA at ProphetFighting.com
Thursday, November 22, 2007
HAPPY THANKSGIVING!
by DCScrap, Editor
Enjoy your turkey and football.After the jump is a sneak preview of what most of you will see tonight during the Colts-Falcons game on the NFL Network.
On that note, I leave you with the story of Thanksgiving as told by John Madden, Christopher Walken and Sean Connery.
Enjoy Arizona State vs. USC tonight, folks!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
BEST USE OF PHOTOSHOP AWARD FOR NOVEMBER 21
Happy Turkey Day, The House Rock Built.
If you do or see some great sports photoshopping in the future, send it to us and you might win ...
... a virtual Galloping Gobbler!
Money can't buy that!
WHAT IS YOUR THANKSGIVING TRADITION?
by Brian P. Foley, The College Baseball Blog
Thanksgiving has always been a major event in my life. Thanksgiving in the state of Massachusetts is a holiday for sports. In almost all of the communities, the local high school will usually be playing a game against their chief rival school. I headed up to New Hampshire for college and thought it was a tradition up there but none of the kids from NH had ever heard of such a thing. This was a big deal in my hometown as we had many great battles with our rival school which dates back over 100 years. They even broke out throwback uniforms one year for the game. My high school had an enrollment of only 500 students so this was a big deal to buy new uniforms for a single game.
What type of sports traditions do you have on Turkey Day?
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
THE PROPHET'S TUESDAY TAPOUT: DECAPITATED TURKEYS EDITION
by The Prophet, ProphetFighting
It's not easy being "the future of fight sport journalism"(TM). Sure, it has its perks--I'm a considered a giant among men, and essentially "above the law". Men want to be like me and women want to sleep with me. Mothers want me to kiss their babies and fathers use me as a role model for their sons. I'm a literary superhero and as we learned from the mouth of a non-literary superhero named Spiderman "with great power comes great responsibility". While I understand this and easily carry this burden on my broad shoulders, it means that even a charmed life such as my own comes with a lot of pressure. As I noted in the emotional confession of my struggles with the "orange dragon" of Dayquil, I'm expected to perform at a high level every day of the year. Most of you probably don't understand being in a situation where failure is not an option and no such thing as "an excuse"--while you can blame a bad work performance on a malfunctioning drive-thru speaker or a defrosting Slurpee machine a writer of my stature simply doesn't have that option.
Actually, my burden as a literary superhero is greater than the comic book variety. Most superheroes rely on the crutch of a "secret identity"--in other words, they hide behind a mask of one sort or another. The Lone Ranger has his little black mask, Spiderman his magic spider suit and Batman his cape and cowl. While these cowards hide behind the anonymity that a mask provides, I'm out there for the world to see. When I write this column every week I am truly naked--in a metaphorical sense, I mean.
Most of you are aware that Thanksgiving is a few days away. And while you're huddled in your $150 a week hotel room preparing to eat a can of potted meat, take a moment to remember the things that you should be thankful for. There are things that most people like yourself are thankful for--that 16 year old girl you "dated" hasn't called the cops, the DNA test came back negative and the 7-11 you work at hasn't been robbed in a few months. And while its important to be thankful for these trivial things, don't lose sight of what is *really* important. Every week you have the privilege and pleasure of reading the words that emanate from my brain, travel via the conduit of my laptop and the Intertubes and right in to the computer in whatever public library you sleep behind. The gifts that technology has given us are many and varied--pirated MP3's and software, free porn and online gambling, of course, but don't forget the biggest gift that you've received from the technology of the 21st century: each and every week you can enjoy the work of a writer of my stature, indeed the very *future* of fightsport journalism (TM), and it doesn't cost you a thing.
Many of you know that I grew up as a non-Mormon in Utah. And while I've had my issues from time to time with the Beehive State's dominant religion they got one thing right--arguably the most popular hymn sung in their churches is entitled "We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet". They show their gratitude for "the future of fightsport journalism"(TM) in song. You can feel free to demonstrate *your* gratitude in whatever manner you deem appropriate.
THE PROPHET'S THANKSGIVING PLANS:
We'll get to the MMA news in a moment, including a report on Saturday's UFC 78 and the Strikeforce card held last Friday night. First, however, I'll answer the question that's on everyone's mind: What is The Prophet doing for Thanksgiving? The answer is "whatever the hell I want". I've been divorced for a few years and one of the great myths is that holidays are somehow "hard" for me. Nothing could be further from the truth. Here's how my Thanksgivings would go back when I was married--I'd wake up at 6 AM and rush through a shower while my ex-wife yelled at me about being late. No matter how fast I got ready, she'd be pissed at me for holding up progress and sulk the entire trip. That was a problem because it really was an all day ordeal--it wasn't enough that we had to drive to her parents house which was a four hour drive, but we had to detour to see her grandmothers and any other assorted relative that happened to live along the route. We'd finally get to her parents house near sunset, I'd eat cold turkey and dressing before we left for the return trip. My ex would sleep the whole way home while I drove.
So after my divorce I approached my first Thanksgiving with some degree of trepidation--this was due to the disinformation and propaganda spewed by the Oprah's and Dr. Phil's of the world: that Thanksgiving was a "difficult" holiday for the newly divorced. And like many other myths that have been dispelled such as the one about how you shouldn't enjoy a bourbon while driving, this one was proven completely wrong. Thanksgiving morning I got up, made myself a cappuccino and fired up my first cigar of the day--an Ashton Cabinet Selection #8 if I remember correctly. It was actually cold this Thanksgiving so I lit a fire in the fireplace, and sat down in my chair with my dogs sleeping around me. I braced myself for the onset of utter misery. It never came. I soon discovered that ESPN Classic was running an 8 hour retrospective on the career of Joe Louis. I relaxed watching the career of the 2nd greatest heavyweight of all time, getting up only to get more food or to refill my drink. I was interrupted by several phone calls inviting me over for Thanksgiving dinner but this year I had the perfect excuse: "I just got divorced and holidays are sort of hard on me. I'm sure you understand". After some comforting words I was off the phone and cackling with delight at my cleverness as I returned to my chair.
After lunchtime I enjoyed my second cigar of the day, a 7 x 48 Greycliff Espresso before taking a short nap. I then took my dogs for a walk on a beautiful and brisk late fall afternoon while enjoying a Padron 1964 Anniversary Torpedo. Around sunset I returned to my chair, and spent the rest of the evening eating, drinking and relaxing. Around bedtime I put on my flannel PJs and enjoyed my final cigar of the day, a Bolivar Habana Corona I had reserved for a special occasion. And since it had been the most pleasant Thanksgiving in recent memory it was a special occasion indeed...
UFC 78 AND STRIKEFORCE PPV EVENTS
I still don't understand why the UFC is obsessed with holding live shows in flyover country. In addition to the uneducated fans they attract it encourages the organization to hold too damn many PPV events. This misguided strategy could eventually open the door for another MMA organization to make significant inroads here in the US. Instead of having fewer PPV's with higher quality of matches the UFC appears to think that they can just run out any two guys and have them fight in a cage and have millions of fans clamoring to pay $50 to watch it on PPV. If you haven't noticed, there's already a glut of MMA on television. It's kind of like poker was a few years ago when you couldn't find a station that wasn't televising a bunch of grizzled poker pros playing Texas Hold'em. Now you can't find a station where a couple of guys aren't fighting in a cage. And if yours truly, a fan of the sport, thinks there's a glut of MMA on TV you can imagine what the average Joe thinks.
The UFC *should* be emphasizing quality over quantity--holding fewer events and making them more significant. Instead they've got a reality show, a highlight show, a live fight card on free TV every few months and a PPV event seemingly every week. They've also got their fighters appearing all over the dial on non-MMA shows: Chuck Liddell was on "Entourage" last season, Forrest Griffin has a guest spot on one of the millions of "Law and Order" shows this season and no less than Randy Couture made an appearance last season on "Dancing With the Stars".
Which brings us to the latest PPV held in flyover country, UFC 78: Validation. I know that Newark, NJ isn't *technically* flyover country but it might as well be. The show should have been called UFC 78: Dilution--as in "brand dilution". It was a lackluster card on paper and lived up to that lackluster-ness on fight night. There was nothing really wrong with any of the fights, but nothing really right about them either. Few seemed worthy of PPV status, and neither of the "big fights" including the main event were "main event worthy". It would have been a passable edition of "Ultimate Fight Night" only this show cost me $50. Michael Bisping lost to Rashad Evans in the main event--it wasn't a bad fight, just not a main event fight. The latest "next big thing", Houston Alexander, was KO'd by Thiago Alves. The rest of the card was disappointing at best, a snooze-fest at worst. You know a PPV sucks when the highlight of the night is the announcement of a future fight--in this case Dan Henderson vs. Anderson Silva at UFC 82.
For some reason, the UFC seems to think its a good idea to emulate the WWE. They've got the "heel" President counterpart to Vince McMahon in Dana White. They're following the strategy that the WWF used during their early days when they saturated the airwaves with their products and had pro wrestlers appearing on every other television show. And now they're running PPV events that leave their most hard core fans feeling ripped off. Here's a prediction for 2008--one of the several well funded upstart organizations will emerge as a solid #2 and start to challenge the UFC for the dominant position in the marketplace.
There's not really much to say about the Strikeforce PPV except for another appearance by a guy who may be the most exciting fighter in MMA--Cung Le. It remains to be seen how well he's able to integrate ground fighting into his repertoire, and this could cause some trouble when he starts to step up in class. On the other hand, Cung Le may be the most devastating all around striker in MMA. In particular, the guy throws the sickest assortment of kicks you can imagine--we're talking kicks that have no name, and the type of kicks that Bruce Lee used to throw in the movies. Even if you don't consider yourself a fan of MMA its worth making the effort to watch Cung Le. He's unlike any other MMA fighter in the world and at times he's downright unbelievable.
Anyway, that's the Tuesday Tapout for this week. As always you can visit ProphetFighting.com for more MMA and boxing commentary. Have a great Thanksgiving and we'll be back next week...
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