Friday, February 19, 2010

Curling, anyone?

I guess it's time Bokolis admits to watching Curling. When I'm lucky enough to be home, unless it's a live sporting event, I don't watch television at home. I think it's all pro wrestling and I'm happy to say that Bokolis has outgrown pro wrestling.

But, I cannot escape the television at the office. We mindlessly watch CNBC because, lets face it, hundreds of channels and it's still slim pickings. While I previously knew of the game, I was proper introduced to it four years ago on the last go around. We happened to have a Canadian visiting, so he taught us all the rules.

As it turns out, CNBC gets way better ratings from this than their daily drivel. Everybody in the office is glued to the TV.

Bokolis tried my best to avoid it, but the cackling and yelling sucked me in and have since been glued to it. So, WTF is the deal with curling? The biggest appeal is that it looks like anybody can do it. You're watching, thinking, I could've been in the Olympics because I can do better than these mutts.
It's not all that different than watching Wheel of Fortune. As I've explained countless times to people, they prefer putting functional retards, rather than moderately intelligent people, on there because the idiots' struggle is the big part of the appeal.

You can tell that blonde has a smokin' hot body, but, yeah, my first reaction to the US team was, how come all our broads are over 35? We've got three other soccer moms on the squad, including two heiffers.

If you think that is bad, some bird on Canada's team is 5 months pregnant. What happens if that kid throws out a roundhouse at an inopportune time?

By comparison, the Danish girls looked rather goth in those black skirts and hose. The Russians have two reasonably cute birds...and Bokolis spent enough time in strip clubs in my early 20s -middle aged friends, long story- to be totally immune to Russian broads.

We've watched both the women and men get buried. And, the American that seems to be the best (at curling) of the lot looks like she wasnts to strangle the captain because the captain ("skip") is bloody awful.

If this were gridiron football, we'd be screaming for the back-up QB go get in there and whythefuck don't they take out this putz/this heiffer. Bokolis is guessing that, so few people play this in America, that both of the skips got there because their daddies were the coach or something, now have tenure and have been playing prevent defense.

Well, enough about them. Like any other sport not invented by Americans, it needs more offense. In my half-assed attempt to change the game for the better, Bokolis will propose some rule changes to perfect the merger between run-n-gun and smashmouth.
  • Women's curling will now be a full contact sport. The men don't get to play this version. They have to play the existing rules.
  • You cannot touch the stone, but you can whack the sweepers' brooms with your broom and you can check the sweepers, so long as you don't check them into any you can't be blocked into the kicker.
  • Any bird under 30 wears poom-poom shorts. For that matter, only one broad over 30 per squad.
  • With the contact, teams are sure to field a broad that looks like nose tackle. She stays bundled up.
  • Given the above, any shot entirely within the "bullseye" gets an immediate point.
Some of the comparative minutia will be changed to speed up the game.
  • Ends>>Innings
  • fewer rocks per inning
  • shot clock
That's all the fuck I got!

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Sol, Sol...

There was Sol Campbell, back in the Champions League, either to turn back the clock, or re-prove that even a broken one is right twice a day.

He didn't look altogether inspired, more heavy than a heavy. But he played with he urgency of a man getting one last shot at the big time and pulled Arsenal level after their keeper bundled home Porto's opener.

You know it must have burned the arse of every Spurs supporter just a little bit more to see Sol come in off the street and score in a UCL match. He probably scored while they were in the middle of one of their chants at the pub.

Well, Sol giveth and Sol help taketh away. Using tactics he must have picked up during his stint at Notts County, when there was no need to do so, he just had to get a touch on a ball heading back towards the shaky keeper, Fabianski. The keeper played no small part in this hash. No only did he fail to call off Sol, he picked up the backpass. Then, instead of stalling (to the point of getting booked, if need be) so he could get a wall set up, handed the ball right to the referee, who handed the ball to Porto.

A pass and a shot later, it was one of the easiest goals you'll ever see...clownish. Wenger was left to whinge about the referee letting Porto quickly take the indirect. This is the same mook that let Henry get way with a carry, but he can't be blamed for this disaster.

Nonetheless, the Gooners are far from fucked. But, while there is talent, they don't exactly have a striker to bag up a couple of goals. Adebayor, Adebayo-oor would be pretty good to still have right about now.

As for Milan vs the fmcs, what can I say except, Rooney is a bad muthafucka. It's Bokolis' turn to have his ass burned. I've gotten about as much as I expected out of Milan this year, but crashing out at the hands of the fmcs is never easy to take.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

So, shit did happen a little bit

I think the Apple wound up seeing 10 inches of snow from that last storm. That storm was like 5-in-one. But it took a day and a half to get down. I broke out from the office at 3PM and the shit was just starting to jump off.

As if to rub it in how bad I've been at calling shit, once it got going, it just hovered over the area. Burned several sessions of footie for me.

With no footie- and not stupid enough to drag a bird through some Valentine's nonsense, I sat around and found some site called the Dirty. Other that to say that I will probably incorporate "+2" into my vocabulary, I'm not sure what to say. But, I will have to consult my own dirty army to find out, considering how much time they spend surfing for shit like this, whythefuck did I have to find this and not them.


Wednesday, February 10, 2010

I don't believe shit until shit happens!

That, of course, was part of Bernie Mac's Kings of Comedy routine. This applies to the two latest calls for a snow Armageddon in the Apple.

Last week, they warned us that we'd get bombed with about a foot overnight Friday into Saturday. I told people it was bullshit, but there's something you don't know about Bokolis. As I woke up to watch Liverpool, the snow on the ground was akin to cinnamon sprinkled on oatmeal.

So, both on Monday evening and all day yesterday, the cunts on the local news channels warned about impending doom that would befall us overnight and all day today. I woke up yesterday to find predictions of 10 to 15 inches, that it should get going about 9PM, Tuesday evening.

I keep the radar maps on and the NOAA on my browser so I can track this stuff. The NOAA radar is a compilation of local radar, so there are gaps in the composite. I'm not sure about the TWC radar, but TWC gives you a "future" feature (say that quickly 5 times) that goes forward 3 hours.

TWC usually lags in the mornings, so I would track its future against the NOAA's 80-minute radar loop. Right away yesterday, I could see they were overstating the storm's track and intensity. This is why, by the time of the drive home, the story changed to a post midnight jump-off, with the hard stuff coming around 4AM.

Of course, Bokolis wasn't buying any of this shit and made my own call for 5 inches max and included rain in the mix. So, I woke up at 4:30 to see for myself...more cinnamon.

Anyway, this morning, in true pay-no-attention-to-the-man-behind-the-curtain style, they all downplayed the relatively minor output and warned us that the winds would change, the temperature would not rise through the daytime, that the brunt of the storm, which has now moved from our south and west to the west and north, would now intensify and REALLY blow ("blowing snow," they say) through here during the day; that we shouldn't go to work because we'll never be able to get home.

As I sit, typing on The Man, I wonder what the angle is now that, after sleeting from 8:30 to 10AM, there's been nothing for the last two hours...that's a rhetorical question.

I always tell people, when assessing the prospects and/or magnitude of a storm hitting the Apple, they should consider that the Dutch- who, considering their homeland, must have a nose for weather- didn't settle on Manhattan by luck. I'm not saying that it's done- I've killed a lot of storms and this has been one of the baddest muthafuckas of a storm I've ever seen and it still hovers ominously. But, relatively speaking, this has been a miss.

Fearmongering is endemic among all media, but I'll stick to the present topic. When you put on the news for these sorts of things, you're told not to even bother going outside, to stay indoors where it's safe. Leaving aside that they're treating people like children (read: idiots), the undertow of that message is to stay home- even to forego shoveling the driveway- and watch the news so they can tell us all about the snow.

If I'm holed up in the house, WTF do I give a fuck about the snow outside? Why should we listen to alarmist bullshit, bullshit that conditions a reaction...especially when there's Internet porn out there. Hey, Internet porn is a wonderful distraction. One doesn't have to watch it to understand that, both directly and indirectly, it helps put all media and much of life in perspective...why let neurosis consume you when you could be busting a nut?

That's all the fuck I got.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Hitler and Saddam Spotted Ice Skating

Bokolis didn't get to hype my annual Super Bowl Sunday foray into rugby for fairies. Since it was expected to be a full 11v11, this year's game turned into a tackle affair. Because people bailed, it turned out to be a 9v9, but we still went tackle, with a 4-man line.

Let me just say, what cunts! Bokolis was out drinking until 4AM on Saturday (Don Julio at a party, Jameson at the bar), but got up at 8AM for a 10AM soccer game. These guys are all 5-10 years younger than I am, but they couldn't make an afternoon game because they can't handle their liquor.

I actually let someone else start at QB. On the first drive, he threw an Eli-esque duck that functioned as a change-up, floating over the defender and into my arms. I took it the rest of the way.

He was ineffective though. He kept drifting back to avoid the rush, took too long to get the ball out and couldn't get the ball to the receivers. Our captain implored me to take over, but I wound up giving him three more drives because the other squad could not move the ball at all...wasn't even cause of me; the lads played good defense and their QBs (they kept switching) all had nothing.

Finally, when he blew up a post play on 4th down- he drifted so far back and waited so long that I had to continue it into a corner route- I had enough.

Bokolis was playing linebacker on D. I'm usually a strong tackler, but I found myself appalled at my lack of desire for contact. I didn't drive through guys; I would just hold them up for others to finish them off. As a QB, though, Bokolis will hang in the pocket because I just don't give a fuck. I got out the rust (3 incompletions) on the first drive, but hit a stop-and-go for a TD and marched for another on the next two drives.

As a QB, I'm more in the Warren Moon, run-n-shoot style. I don't like to run because, when you're allowed to throw the ball, running seems like a copout. But, I'm built like Barry Sanders and know better than to let my ideology get the best of me. I couldn't tell you how good my protection was overall because I get the ball out pretty quickly and I don't pay attention to the line. These guys were so bent on getting to me (they didn't) that they were ignoring their lanes. I stepped though the DT and DE and tore through a broken field (I'm still fast and, while I don't cut like Barry Sanders, it still hard to get in front of me and I know- field vision- how to set guys up without the juke).

I hit a bomb first play of the next drive, which completed the whitewash. Since I had a hand in all 5 scores, I'd have hooked up your fantasy team like a muthafucka. I'm waiting for old age to allow these guys to overtake me, but it looks like they will get old before Bokolis will. The game started too early and finished way too early. We sat around almost 3 hours waiting for the Bowl to start. I should have just gone home to regroup, but was not motivated to make the half-hour drive.

After double duty, I'm well and sore, with expected sorenesses- my shoulder is on fire- but I've felt far worse from less.

The router blew on Friday and the cunts at VZ won't have a router out to me until Tuesday (tomorrow), so I had to post those losers from the mobile and am posting this one on The Man. They'll probably have this printed out when I get my annual performance review later today...bah, I save them a lot of money so WTF.

Since I couldn't type in the text box, I had to dump the predictions into the subject line. In my haste, I forgot to stick the under for the game in there, so Bokolis goes a putrid 4-10 this post-season and, had I actually followed through on my bullshit-ass predictions, would have the book looking for me.

As one may infer from the title, it's a cold day in Hell.

If one judges him by the GOAT (greatest of all time) standard, it's easy to blame this on P. Manning. There was a point where the GOAT (Johnny U, Montana) turns that game into a train run. P. Manning didn't seal the deal, so he will have to tuck in behind them.

But the Colts' early momentum stalled when Garcon dropped that pass on 3rd down. All of the sudden, after a quarter of lock-down, Saints receivers were getting wide open. That was the difference in the game. Except for Wayne's TD, the Colts were not getting open. P. Manning was making some sick throws when nothing was there, the sickest of all being that corner route to Clark in the 3rd Quarter. I couldn't even see Clark through all the coverage.

Inevitably, however, when you have to make so many fine throws, you're going to fuck up one. The Saints finally jumped the slant, Reggie Wayne, doubtless saving himself for a post game The U party, didn't want it...a TaInt* and that was that.

P. Manning standing shaken on the sidelines, his own fallibility dawning on him, realizing it wasn't going to happen and seemingly ready to cry, was a profound moment. I looked for an image of that look, but couldn't find it. You'll have to make do with this image of the onsides kick scrum...I can only imagine how many nutsacks were fondled and balloon-knots masaged.

Sometimes, people feel for the villain or the beaten Goliath. But, not in this case. I didn't feel anything for him, except to want to tell him to get it together because he could still make a sweat out of it.

And, they could have. Just like earlier, P. Manning seemed to choke up when it was time to punch it in. But, Reggie Wayne dropped the 4th down pass. That makes him the bitch and makes Bokolis more inclined to blame him for the TaInt. It underlies that, in the end, the Colts, previously 16-0 in games they tried to win, weren't that good. In the end, they were well-beaten.

The three ballsiest moments, in order of occurence:

  1. Saints going for it on 4th and goal. I didn't like calling a running play when your relative strength is in the passing game. But taking the 3 points gives P. Manning better field position from the kickoff, which quite possibly meant that the Saints would have wound up losing from the exchange. As it was, the Colts played it safe and the Saints wound up getting back the spuned 3 points.
  2. The onsides kick. Winners take chances.
  3. Colts going for it without a huddle on 4th down on their next to last drive. Sure, the drive ended horribly, but the way they went for it was a resounding "Fuck You!" to the defense.
*TaInt > Touchdown after Interception, referred to by the commoners as a pick six.