Just a few more hours until we go real. Even if it's only 6AM baseball from Japan, it signals that, soon enough, I will no longer be held captive by basketball (pro, college, womens and whatever the Knicks play), hockey, NASCAR, golf and other unwatchable crap.
Not that it helped my brackets any, but, thankfully, I played soccer all winter.
Strangely, I can watch tennis at 3AM with no qualms. Go figure.
Isn't basketball really like NASCAR? They go back and forth (or 'round and 'round) a couple of hundred times, but nothing gets resolved until the last 2 minutes...and that's when they're not fixing games.
Baseball will make all that go away.
I guess I should make predictions. Errr...the Yankees and Red Sox will be good. So will Detroit, Cleveland and the Angels. Seattle is going to pretend to be good. The Mets plan on being good for 145 games. The Phillies and Braves will pretend to be good. Some teams in the NL Central and West will also pretend to be good; I suppose we'll say the Cubs Brewers, Padres and Arizona. I don't know if Torre will get the Dodgers to play.
That's as far as I'll go. At this point, I don't worry about who will win. Maybe I'll offer analysis as we go along. Okay, one more prediction: out of the guys picked in the first two rounds in a fantasy draft, half of them are on the shit. I don't care who is on the sauce, as long as they don't make it obvious.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
The Crash
After two days of the crack, I wake up at 12:20 to find no tournament on the tube...I've got the DTs.
Overall, I'm 24 out of 32, with 14 of 16 Sweet Sixteen picks still alive (I figure on losing 3 more over the weekend), tucked in nicely behind the leaders. Given that I lost all four Friday Tampa games, it could be far worse.
Speaking of far worse, I watched the end of Villanova in a bar after the fun job. Nine Goose n' tonics later, I was a staggering mess. I barely pulled it together. I took my customary 3-hour nap in the car, then went hammer-down back to the house. 18 minutes from the Meatpacking District to northeast Queens is pretty good time. After another 3 hour nap, I'm back at the fun job. Except for being able to blog during some unexpected downtime, it's not so much fun right now.
Actually, blogging wasn't much fun, either. Now, if I could give you stream-of-conscious commentary as I'm sitting there getting hammered, dodging ditzes and fat broads, we'd have some marketable content. I'm going to look into having someone wire me up.
Overall, I'm 24 out of 32, with 14 of 16 Sweet Sixteen picks still alive (I figure on losing 3 more over the weekend), tucked in nicely behind the leaders. Given that I lost all four Friday Tampa games, it could be far worse.
Speaking of far worse, I watched the end of Villanova in a bar after the fun job. Nine Goose n' tonics later, I was a staggering mess. I barely pulled it together. I took my customary 3-hour nap in the car, then went hammer-down back to the house. 18 minutes from the Meatpacking District to northeast Queens is pretty good time. After another 3 hour nap, I'm back at the fun job. Except for being able to blog during some unexpected downtime, it's not so much fun right now.
Actually, blogging wasn't much fun, either. Now, if I could give you stream-of-conscious commentary as I'm sitting there getting hammered, dodging ditzes and fat broads, we'd have some marketable content. I'm going to look into having someone wire me up.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Like Crack Cocaine
The first two days of the tournament are like crack cocaine. I usually burn two vacation days. Thanks to an early Western Easter, I get to stay home today and degenerate. Here's a look at my bracket before it gets shot to hell.
The scoring system has a seed multiplier, so picking the 8-9, 7-10, 6-11 match ups correctly is even more important than correctly picking 3 1-seeds and a 2-seed to make the Final Four.
Because I build the brackets backward (working back from the final), I usually get hammered in the first two rounds, but run down (most of) the field on the second weekend. With the seeding multiplier, if I take a stand against a team (like Memphis), I'll try to knock them out a round early and pick up points on the whole field.
I couldn't really build backwards this year because I've watched virtually no college ball (I've been playing soccer all winter...more on that in another post). Consequently, I didn't take as many chances in the early rounds and, with the exception of UCLA (am I really supposed to believe that anyone in the West can knock them off), all my Final Four picks are lukewarm.
I have to take a stand against Memphis; they build the Projects at the line, which promises to bite them in the ass. I know UNC is stacked, but Roy Williams is a fraud. Of course, for all I know, Louisville may not make it out of the first round. KU also has a sick team, but they always manage to fuck it up. I can't knock them out because I don't see Georgetown as a team capable of putting together 4 big games. I didn't watch their game, but I think I might have slept on K State.
With all the blowouts and chalk yesterday, you have to figure that Madness is due.
The scoring system has a seed multiplier, so picking the 8-9, 7-10, 6-11 match ups correctly is even more important than correctly picking 3 1-seeds and a 2-seed to make the Final Four.
Because I build the brackets backward (working back from the final), I usually get hammered in the first two rounds, but run down (most of) the field on the second weekend. With the seeding multiplier, if I take a stand against a team (like Memphis), I'll try to knock them out a round early and pick up points on the whole field.
I couldn't really build backwards this year because I've watched virtually no college ball (I've been playing soccer all winter...more on that in another post). Consequently, I didn't take as many chances in the early rounds and, with the exception of UCLA (am I really supposed to believe that anyone in the West can knock them off), all my Final Four picks are lukewarm.
I have to take a stand against Memphis; they build the Projects at the line, which promises to bite them in the ass. I know UNC is stacked, but Roy Williams is a fraud. Of course, for all I know, Louisville may not make it out of the first round. KU also has a sick team, but they always manage to fuck it up. I can't knock them out because I don't see Georgetown as a team capable of putting together 4 big games. I didn't watch their game, but I think I might have slept on K State.
With all the blowouts and chalk yesterday, you have to figure that Madness is due.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Amateur Night
Throw up some Rickey Henderson gang signs for St. Patrick. I wonder if St. Pat knew that Irish broads are the worst lays. Well, if anybody reads this, consider yourselves enlightened. It's probably too late for this year.
In other news, I've heard that drinking green beer will give your next jizz a green tinge. If you get some on Heather, hopefully, the lights will be dim. As for myself, I'll do without the pasty broads and drunk firemen. I'll manage.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Spitzer Swallows Pride
We just had a fun few days around the Apple. Our governor, with is old lady peeking over his shoulder as if she wrote the speech, resigned on Wednesday after getting bagged for nailing some high-priced call girl. It can only get more salacious from here.
You won't get a morality play here...ok maybe a little bit, only because Spitzer has to face his daughters. You can't get caught doing shit like this when you have 3 daughters at home. Granted, they won't be on the Pole any time soon. But, it takes men down about 10 notches in their eyes when their old man is bagged for nailing some broad barely older than they are, making it that much harder- which their embittered mom will surely see to- for the rest of us, when the time comes.
On a parallel with the steroids in baseball deal, how does a former US AG not know how to be shady? Doesn't he have someone to line up the pussy for him? Why the fuck is he moving money out of his own (traceable) bank account to do this shit? That's what soft money is for.
At $4,300 a pop, that's a lot of soft money. As it turns out, this broad is some Jersey girl. This is where I have the biggest issue. Since Jersey girls are all too willing to give out the pussy for free, men should not engage in any action that will allow Jersey girls to assign a value, tangible or intangible, to their holes. Take heed, as it will be a sad time when guys can no longer go down the Jersey Shore and bag up drunk Jersey and/or Philly girls.
You won't get a morality play here...ok maybe a little bit, only because Spitzer has to face his daughters. You can't get caught doing shit like this when you have 3 daughters at home. Granted, they won't be on the Pole any time soon. But, it takes men down about 10 notches in their eyes when their old man is bagged for nailing some broad barely older than they are, making it that much harder- which their embittered mom will surely see to- for the rest of us, when the time comes.
On a parallel with the steroids in baseball deal, how does a former US AG not know how to be shady? Doesn't he have someone to line up the pussy for him? Why the fuck is he moving money out of his own (traceable) bank account to do this shit? That's what soft money is for.
At $4,300 a pop, that's a lot of soft money. As it turns out, this broad is some Jersey girl. This is where I have the biggest issue. Since Jersey girls are all too willing to give out the pussy for free, men should not engage in any action that will allow Jersey girls to assign a value, tangible or intangible, to their holes. Take heed, as it will be a sad time when guys can no longer go down the Jersey Shore and bag up drunk Jersey and/or Philly girls.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Beer Goggles Explained
The good folks at the University of Manchester have devised a "beer goggle" formula (see below). Beer goggles, for the uninitiated, are what spurs us to nail pigs. Granted, this was published by BBC News over two years ago, but, given our posting frequency, we were never going to break this story.
This shit may look daunting, BUT LEARN THIS MOTHERFUCKER BY HEART. This is much more useful than the quadratic formula. Dare I say, this is even more important than WACC.
An = number of units of alcohol consumed
S = smokiness of the room (graded from 0-10, where 0 clear air; 10 extremely smoky)
L = luminance of 'person of interest' (candelas per square metre; typically 1 pitch black; 150 as seen in normal room lighting)
Vo = Snellen visual acuity (6/6 normal; 6/12 just meets driving standard)
d = distance from 'person of interest' (metres; 0.5 to 3 metres)
Non-appealing people become suddenly attractive between 51 and 100. At more than 100, someone not considered attractive looks like a super model.
So, assuming that, sober, the 'person of interest' is nowhere near a 50, here's a little scenario:
An =5 drinks
S =2 in NYC bars. While there's no smoking, the air can't be considered "clear."
L =36 assume, for easier calculation
Vo =6/8, how sharp can your vision really be in a dimly lit room while tipsy?
d =3m, because if you're looking out further than a 10 foot radius, you're probably in the wrong joint.
Under these conditions, the beer goggle score is 66.66, solidly in bang-a-fat-chic territory. Since this is written from a guy's perspective, the idea is for us to score with a hottie, not have some pig bag us. Towards that end, if we put the average hottie on 5 drinks, with the time-release effect of alcohol, there's a good chance she will be non-functional before you get in position.
So, let's massage the scenario. If we assume 4 drinks for women, the score drops to 42.66, which, according to the logic, isn't getting it done...better find some other way to get that number over 50. We don't have much of a window, so we need to make the numbers dance.
Any worthwhile experiment has to be at least single blind, meaning the subjects don't know whether they are getting the stuff or the placebo. In this case, the placebo would be to give a girl 1-oz. shots instead of 1.5-oz. shots. Typically, they won't know the difference, but the thrill will be just the same because they'll feel emboldened by their perceived increased tolerance. Less alcohol (2.5 oz. over 5 shots) allows for an extra shot, but brings an additional benefit. The window between being drunk enough to get down and drunk enough to fall down is larger. Thrilled, emboldened and a larger window just might be enough to get in that ass.
This shit may look daunting, BUT LEARN THIS MOTHERFUCKER BY HEART. This is much more useful than the quadratic formula. Dare I say, this is even more important than WACC.
An = number of units of alcohol consumedS = smokiness of the room (graded from 0-10, where 0 clear air; 10 extremely smoky)
L = luminance of 'person of interest' (candelas per square metre; typically 1 pitch black; 150 as seen in normal room lighting)
Vo = Snellen visual acuity (6/6 normal; 6/12 just meets driving standard)
d = distance from 'person of interest' (metres; 0.5 to 3 metres)
Non-appealing people become suddenly attractive between 51 and 100. At more than 100, someone not considered attractive looks like a super model.
So, assuming that, sober, the 'person of interest' is nowhere near a 50, here's a little scenario:
An =5 drinks
S =2 in NYC bars. While there's no smoking, the air can't be considered "clear."
L =36 assume, for easier calculation
Vo =6/8, how sharp can your vision really be in a dimly lit room while tipsy?
d =3m, because if you're looking out further than a 10 foot radius, you're probably in the wrong joint.
Under these conditions, the beer goggle score is 66.66, solidly in bang-a-fat-chic territory. Since this is written from a guy's perspective, the idea is for us to score with a hottie, not have some pig bag us. Towards that end, if we put the average hottie on 5 drinks, with the time-release effect of alcohol, there's a good chance she will be non-functional before you get in position.
So, let's massage the scenario. If we assume 4 drinks for women, the score drops to 42.66, which, according to the logic, isn't getting it done...better find some other way to get that number over 50. We don't have much of a window, so we need to make the numbers dance.
Any worthwhile experiment has to be at least single blind, meaning the subjects don't know whether they are getting the stuff or the placebo. In this case, the placebo would be to give a girl 1-oz. shots instead of 1.5-oz. shots. Typically, they won't know the difference, but the thrill will be just the same because they'll feel emboldened by their perceived increased tolerance. Less alcohol (2.5 oz. over 5 shots) allows for an extra shot, but brings an additional benefit. The window between being drunk enough to get down and drunk enough to fall down is larger. Thrilled, emboldened and a larger window just might be enough to get in that ass.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Just One Fix
Can you imagine how many dudes would have gotten outed if George Mitchell had anything more with which to work than one clubhouse rat that flipped?
This Radomski cat had checks and FedEx slips. Why didn't these guys just shoot up in the on-deck circle? I'm sure glad I never had to rob a house with any of these players. Don't these dudes have cash lying around? Granted, having grown up in the 'hood, I'm shady and I know how to keep it real. But, if I were a ball player with a 7, 8-figure salary and reputation to protect, I'd have a safe deposit box and storage locker in every city. You'd have to get the CIA if you wanted to catch me.
To boot, Andy Pettitte copped to it. Sure, he can figure on sympathy based on the circumstances and his erstwhile wholesome image. But, faced with this situation, I would invoke a quote often attributed to John Gotti; "If I robbed a church and had a steeple sticking out of my ass, I'd deny it too."
Roger Clemens won't get such sympathy. Despite being previously linked, he was never vilified like Barroid has been. Somehow, the world overlooked that, throughout his career, Clemens has been every bit the prick we've portrayed Bonds to be. After a previous 4-year downtrend, we can easily draw the inference that the sauce revitalized Clemens' sputtering career.
The real issue, for me, is that this all went down under MLB's flag, with its tacit, if not implicit, approval; part Boss Hogg, part pro wrestling.
Just think of how many more cats they'd catch if they had a test, if they could track the dudes that know how to keep it on the DL, if more rats come out of the woodwork. Think about how much ticket prices have increased from 1994. Think about the stadia the taxpayers have financed, all the other money they've sucked out of you. They've all been lying to you they whole time.
It's no big deal, right? After all, since we're lied to at every turn, what's one more lie?
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