Catharsis

What a craptacular day. I want to pull my damn hair out. Fortunately for me, there are like 10,000 videos of beefy guys in short shorts beating the everloving shit out of one another on YouTube. YouTube, we can be friends again... maybe.

Ho hum

My god, this day has been depressing. First, I didn't get any sleep last night because my stupid On Demand was broken and I had to watch regular late-night TV (insert audible Sideshow Bob-like shudder). Since Jimmy Kimmel makes me dry-heave uncontrollably, I flipped to an episode of Intervention on A&E, figuring that the soft sound of people crying would lull me to sleep. Instead, I was kept up until 2 in the morning watching a story about this alcoholic woman, and woke up a few hours later exhausted and VERY depressed. Then I sit down to read my ESPN feed and it's all Sean Taylor this and putting things in perspective that, which is actually sad to the point that there's nothing to say about it. And to top it all off, the Yanks are probably going to sign Johan Santana and I'll have to start hating him even though I actually like him a lot. This is going to be worse than when I had a crush on Tino Martinez in 8th grade and I used to undergo literally spasms of internal anguish every time he came to bat against the Sox.

To mitigate things, I'm sharing a news item from yesterday which is not actually that entertaining or relevant, but has an absolutely phenomenal headline:

Bucanneer Bachelorette Babe

Busted for Bopping Bass Fishing

Bachelor

The story behind that masterpiece of alliterative titleage above is that some girl who won "The Bachelor" who used to be a cheerleader for Tampa Bay got arrested for punching her fiance in the mouth. See? Really not that great. But just marvel at that headline, kids. It's like Dr. Seuss smoked a bunch of salvia and then started writing for the National Enquirer. I bet the guy who wrote that copy is really, really proud of himself. Well, good for him. He certainly lifted me out of my funk this morning. Thank you, Anonymous ShortNews.com Headline Writer Guy!

It's not lost on me, by the way, that "buccaneers" is spelled wrong in that headline -- nor should it be lost on you. Then again, maybe this guy is just TOO brilliant to be bothered with spell check. Would you have spell-checked the Mona Lisa? Or the Bible?!

Fascists.

RIP Sean Taylor

Yeah.

Ok one more thing

Apparently, some English singer I've never heard of did something embarrassing in a language I don't know at a soccer tournament I couldn't care less about when he accidentally mispronounced the lyrics to the Croatian national anthem:

Tony Henry belted out a version of the Croat anthem before the 80,000 crowd, but made a blunder at the end.

He should have sung 'Mila kuda si planina' (which roughly means 'You know my dear how we love your mountains').

But he instead sang 'Mila kura si planina' which can be interpreted as 'My dear, my penis is a mountain'.

"My dear, my penis is a mountain"? Please. If I had a nickel for every time that line got used on me -- particularly by those financial district weenies I inevitably find myself surrounded by when I go out in Boston -- I'd have a bunch of nickels that I could eat to make myself go blind (nope, no clip of the Family Guy episode I'm referencing because YouTube is, as previously discussed, a fascist state). Yeah. That's right. Also, I'm sad that the above picture was the most phallic-looking mountain I could find online. Damn you, Moderate SafeSearch!

So... busy... yet... so... unproductive...

To swamped to share anything but this moment of glory from Saturday's game. Yay!

Are you there, God? It's me, Curt.

In honor of the impending Day of Thanks, I have opted to hand over the reins for today's celebratory post to Boston's very own Curt Schilling, who had asked me if he might use this blog as a forum to give his very own special thanks for those things he is, well, thankful for. Hope you enjoy.

Dear Lord,

I know we talk all the time, and I'm sure you're busy right now dreaming up new ways to punish Michael Vick and stop anyone from taking pro cycling seriously -- because they shouldn't. That shit's not really a sport. Whoops, sorry Lord. Anyway, I wanted to take a minute today to give you special thanks for all of the many blessings you have showered me with this year.

Thank you, of course, for another year of inflated defense budgets and predictable Supreme Court voting. Thank you also, Lord, for smiting Barry Bonds, as you know I hoped you would do. Thank you for sending an army of children to be the starting rotation of the Red Sox so that a veteran like me looks like an attractive option to the front office rather than a fat, washed-up fastballer whose early days of glory are all being negated by slumping performance on the mound and diva-like behavior off it. Thank you for Hungry Man frozen entrees, Lord, especially the ones that come with mashed potatoes, although Thou knowest I can no longer eat those because of the weight clause in my new contract. So, in that case, I guess I should thank you for the Lean Cuisines my wife keeps buying me.

But above all, Lord, I am thankful for your deliverance of the Red Sox through our exodus from the misery of finishing a season behind Toronto in the division standings to being World Series champions. Thou knowest it was not an easy journey. First you assisted us in vanquishing those so-called Angels, lord, who claim to be emissaries of Thy kingdom, but lay down in the face of our breaking balls of righteousness. Plus, Thou knowest they were only there because the AL West is a pushover division. Am I right, Lord? Then, Thou sent us to bring Thy word to the red-faced heathen peoples of northern Ohio, where I faced the man who sold his soul to the very Devil, and we were once again triumphant in bringing news of Thy word, just as were our Pilgrim forebears on this very day so many years ago. Also, I am sorry I gave Ryan Garko the smallpox, and that I got Grady Sizemore to trade me all the land in center field for a handful of beads.

But, Lord, you had other trials in store for me: we were to face your supposed Chosen Team, those on whom you had, uh, made your Face to shine when they defeated the snakes in the desert (despite having failed to even secure the NL wild card in 162 regular season games, Lord, but I shall not question your divine plan). Yea, but they were false prophets, and Thou knowest that a team that couldn't manage to win more than 44 games before the All-Star break does not truly belong in the playoffs. Oh, wait, maybe Thou doesn't know that. Still, the Rockies too were conquered in the face of our righteously outscoring them 29-10, plus their starting pitching has no idea how to work through an AL lineup. Yes, we went to the top of the mountain, where you banished your Chosen (or, "designated") Hitter to first base for 6 long innings, but we came down from that mountain in a blaze of glory and Dropkick Murphys songs.

Yes Lord, Thou has truly blessed me this year, and for that I give you thanks today.

Also, thank You for Everybody Loves Raymond. That show is awesome.

xoxo,

Curt

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Big ups to the Gavster for letting me know Curt wanted in on this one. I'm getting up early to do a 5K with my mom tomorrow, so it's time to turn in. Remember to follow in Curt's footsteps and give thanks for all that you have this year, unless you're a Dolphins fan, in which you may want to consider making a pact with some sort of evil deity. It worked for Bill Belichick, and for that I am thankful.

Being not a loser now apparently the same thing as being an actual winner

Hurrah for the Denver Broncos. By defeating Vince Young and the Titans on MNF last night, the team improved to 5-5 and is now tied for first place in the cesspit of mediocrity that is the AFC West with the San Diego Chargers, and we all get to enjoy an asinine Tuesday morning lovefest celebrating the Bronco's singular accomplishment of no longer being losers. Still not winners, mind you, but non-losers nonetheless.

After the game, Brandon Marshall was boasting that "It's always been our division. It's time for us to take it back. San Diego, Kansas City, they don't have the talent like us in the locker room. They have star players but can't get it done like us." Uhh... seriously? The Broncos are 5-5. You know who else is 5-5? The Redskins. The Bills. The goddamn Houston Texans. Both AFC wildcards will probably end up with better records than Denver even if Denver does manage to hold onto the division over the Chargers, Chiefs (shudder), and Raiders (double shudder). So, seriously, spare me the congratulatory prose.

In case you're wondering about the gargantuan man whose picture is gracing this post, he's there because a Google image search for "Jay Cutler" turns up not images of the freshfaced former Vanderbilt QB who's currently leading his team to uninspired not-victory-but-not-defeat-either, but rather this other Jay Cutler, who is apparently some sort of famed bodybuilder from Massachusetts (clearly a Masshole. Look at the size of his cranial cavity compared with the rest of his body. Oh I love us). Google Image will, however, politely ask, "Did you mean 'Jay Cutler broncos'?"

On another NFL note, are the Eagles seriously going to have to play the Pats without Donovan McNabb this weekend? The Eagles defense is allowing an average of 20.0 points per game this season, which puts them right in the middle of the NFL pack, but an average defense combined with a rookie quarterback (who has no actual season experience) against the Mack Daddy of all football teams, ever? Dear god. The spread on this game is going to have to be like 32.

Ok, the above rant about the Broncos hoopla is kind of mean, so here's this. What I really wanted to post was that South Park clip where they're in church and they all chant "Let's go Broncos," but since YouTube is now some sort of fascist state (In Soviet Russia, YouTube watches YOU!!!), I couldn't find it anywhere. So I'm posting the obvious clip from last week's South Park instead.