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Tuesday, September 25, 2007

White monster cocks have to be twice as good


I am so sick of this. I've had a really long day. I've been at attention for so fucking long and I just want to explode into some Kleenex and return to my flaccid state. If I have to pound the fuck out of another vagina, I'm going to puke. Whose fucking cock was I in my previous incarnation to deserve this constant hard labor? FDR's? Pope John Paul II's? I must have had it really nice and easy, that's for sure. While most guys' brains occasionally think about baseball, their car, their bank account, or their job, all this guy thinks about is bitchfucking. Bitchfucking is his job, for crying out loud. And not only did I get roped into the monster cock sector of the porn industry as a cock, I had to come in as a white monster cock.

There's just not that many white monster cocks in the monster cock sector, so we have to do a little bit extra.

I mean, most of my black counterparts are worked extremely hard and all, but the directors of the black male professional fornicators with whom they are associated don't make them push my brother johnsons around with the same kind of vigor that I am subjected to, day-by-day, orifice-by-orifice. The cursed director just doesn't seem to think that it's enough to have a white monster cock, even if it's the same size and shape of a darker complected ram-rod. I don't know what it is, maybe a pale pink poker doesn't show up with the same kind of hugeness on film, but I'll promise you this: the expressions of extreme pain on the face of the people whose holes I enter -- those, my friend, are real. Real like Madrid, baby.

Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with the big black cocks that are in this business. They do a great job. Some of my best friends are black monster cocks. I had a poster in my underpants growing up of John Holmes' freakishly large sexual organ. I wanted to grow up to be just like it. I swear, maybe it's just me, but when I am pulled out for that money shot during a shoot and I look around the set and see my colleagues all around me getting rubbed off for the group facial on the barely legal white girl, I don't even notice the pigmentation on their skin. I don't see them as black monster cocks. I just see them as friends.

But they don't get criticized like we white monster cocks do. They don't.

I go out there and fill up a starlet like she'll never be again until giving birth (or since giving birth), leaving a wide gaping hole that will take several hours to go back to normal, and they say "Ah, he could have have been shinier, he could have been stiffer..."

Maybe one day it will all change. Maybe one day, horny young men and women will type "white monster cocks" into Google just as often as "black monster cocks". But for now, I'm going to have to just keep on plowing through the assholes, mouthes, and vaginas of hot young girls like the Eagles went through the Lions' defense Sunday afternoon, going that extra inch, inspiring one masturbater at a time, bearing the white monster cocks burden.

(Inspired by Donovan McNabb, and the Kevin Curtis piece at KSK )

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Monday, September 24, 2007

Roar restoration progress report, week 3




Ouch. There is no reason to bring up too many details about the Lions thrashing yesterday, we all saw it. And by "we all", I mean "some of us". The only relief for me is that I did not decide to travel from DC to Philly to watch it in person, probably shelling out $100+ on a ticket for the privilege. That, and the Lions' next opponent looks like it might be t he worst in the NFC North. Sure, the Bears had a great defense last year, but this year they have Adam Archuleta starting. As bad as the Lions were yesterday, things are still looking pretty good for them to get to the six win mark I predicted, and possibly get to eight. Here is a short recap of the first three and a look ahead to the next three:

Week 1: @ Oakland

Predicted: Loss
Result: WIN

Playing Josh McCown and the Raiders in week 1 gave the Lions and their fans far too much confidence in the team. They started to fall apart, but pulled it together and closed out the game in a strong way that fans of the Lions are not accustomed to seeing. The Lions offense looked explosive.

Week 2: MINNESOTA

Predicted: Win
Result: Win

It wasn't always pretty, but when your quarterback can interact directly with the supernatural being he worships, The Great Deconcusser, you're going to end up with a win sometimes. The Great Deconcusser, who nonbelievers may have mistook for a common flashlight, applied healing goodness to the Lions quarterback by what nonbelievers may have mistook for just the light from a flashlight shone into his eyes to check for signs of trouble in the head of the not especially cerebral quarterback. Minnesota is not a good team, so it was encouraging to see the Lions beat someone at home in a game in which they were favored.

Week 3: @ Philadelphia

Predicted: Loss
Result: Loss

When Kitna predicted that the Lions would win 11+ games, I went through the schedule looking for games that the Lions would probably lose. I found eleven games. This was one of them. I had this to say: "The Lions will lose this football game, or I will lose the deed to my home." I got that one.

Week 4: CHICAGO

Prediction: Win

This is crazy, I know, predicting a win after the 56-21 loss to the Eagles, but here are some facts about the Bears:

- Theie offense is awful. It's nowhere near as good as the Raiders offense*, and probably is somewhere close to Minnesota's. Is it as bad as the Lions' defense? Oof...maybe not that bad, but it's not far from it.

- Their defense is good, but it did still give up 34 points this past week, so it's not great. TO and Jason Witten showed that they cannot cover a big receiver. They start Adam Archuleta, and he specializes in getting abused every single play in some way. Here is what the Lions offensive game plan should be: send Roy Williams (or alternate Roy and Calvin Johnson, if he's healthy) directly at Adam Archuleta every single play and throw the ball there. Don't even try to get open, just go directly at Archuleta, make the catch over his head, push him out of the way, and run to the end zone if you can. Every play.

Bottom line: Other teams with terrible offenses and good defenses are 0-2 against the Lions this year. With this game in Detroit, I think they can go to 3-1. But it is the Lions, so it won't be a big surprise if they lose.


Week 5: @ Washington

Prediction: Loss

The Battleship and I are going to this game, which should be fun, but I give the Lions very little chance to stay in this game. Despite collapsing like the Marlboro man in a marathon yesterday, the Redskins look like a completely mediocre team, which means they will thoroughly crush the Lions at their large home in Landover, MD. Jason Campbell clearly is going to be the good NFL quarterback I thought he would be, they have good receivers, two good backs, and a decent defense that does not include Adam Archuleta this year. They do have one of the worst coaches in the NFL right now, so if the Lions can stay in the game, chances are good that Gibbs will fuck it up at the end. But that's if the Lions can stay in the game.

Week 6: BYE

Prediction: Lots and lots of fun times not watching the Lions!

*
Correction: the Raiders offense is not significantly better than that of the Bears.

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For the love of animals




Many thanks to Dolores, the Battleship, and others who made my thirtieth birthday a special one. As a fan of cougars, as well as the fucking pathetic Lions, I was extremely excited when some of the group at my table spotted the beauty in the above photo prowling about. A classic cougar. Just look at the animal print coat. Lots of jewelry, make-up, and puffy hair. The habitat was a bar populated by clearly underage students, probably from GW. She no doubt made quick work of her prey after luring them in with the free Zippos she was giving out to them.

While I prefer to just appreciate the beauty and maturity of cougars in their natural habitat like this from afar, I had to get a photo to preserve the precious memory. Maintaining a safe distance, I followed her around the bar with my flashless cell phone camera. Her nocturnal nature made it difficult to get a clear shot, as she did not stay still in a well-lit area for long. Alas, my chances of capturing the memory of this glorious creature roaming in the wild on camera looked slim.

Dolores to the rescue!

Dolores had been observing my futile, flaccid, flippity-flappity attempts and decided that it was time to go to work and get the job done. She boldly walked right up to the cougar and told her that it was my birthday and that I thought she was really cute and then asked if she could take our picture. The cougar appeared startled and confused at first, thinking she was to take a picture of us, but then understood and went from confused to the magical cougar pose seen above. Dolores will undoubtedly be a highly sought-after puma apprentice to the nations top cougars such as this one in a few years. Thank you, Dolores.

And thank you to other fine folks who gave gifts and bought me drinks. Just this Saturday I received a thoughtful gift from my friend Joe who mailed a sealed copy of Hustler's Barely Legal issue, complete with a complimentary dvd. That's just super. Joe, thanks for giving me such a useful gift -- it's like a Leatherman Tool for your Johnson.

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Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Just because you've hit 30 doesn't mean you can't be fresh anymore!


Whoa doctor. Jimminy Cricket. Thirty fucking years. That's five presidents, 190 Lions wins. Now what? When do I start to feel like I'm not at the top of my game? I am faster and stronger than I was at any other point in my life. I could drink the me of five years ago under the table and get up and run ten miles and derive the formula for the variance of a complex sample survey before the old me would be out of his shitty non-Tempurpedic bed.

Dude...what's up with all these grayish hairs? Maybe it's time for some Just For Men. I don't want to be some sucker that Clyde Frazier and Keith Hernandez are saying "No play for Mr. Gray!", about. Nah. They're probably just white, like my dad was just so blond that his hair always was white, even when he was a little kid. Yeah, that's probably it. Just genetics. But fuck, dad doesn't exactly have much left up top now. Has my hairline always been this high?

Age of 30, I don't know if you had other plans for me when I got to you, but if you thought I would be a washed up bastard thinking back to my high school years, sighing, with a far-away look in my eyes, fuck you, you didn't get the job done.

Look, thirty, I own your ass. Drop me off at any college party of your choosing and I guarantee that I'll do some serious work. No going home alone to smoke pot and masturbate myself to sleep like sorry ass nineteen-year-old me would do. I'd walk out of the house with a hot girl and the numbers of her hot jealous friends.

But I'd make sure to get home and get some good sleep though, because there sure is a lot going on at work right now. Man, I hope I get that promotion...I could really use a little help with those mortgage payments. Fuck, I haven't checked my retirement fund in a while. My allocation is probably totally shitty. The dollar really sucks right nowf...oh well, at least I've got a lot going into that international fund.

I wonder if DC United has open tryouts. I mean, how could I not make their team right now. Put me anywhere on the field. On defense I'll put the motherfuckers on lockdown like someone just got stabbed in Em-City. I'm McMannis and everyone else is just some number. Oh, nice try with that step-over, Cristiano Ronaldo, you didn't lose me. I'm still right in front of you, eyeball-to-eyeball. A worthy fucking adversary. On offense, nobody will handle my Allen Iverson-like first step. Whoosh, b-bye!

Fuck, my feet hurt though. Maybe I should make an appointment with a podiatrist. Maybe I need some orthotics. Damn, what I wouldn't give to be wearing a nice pair of Rockports right now. Those look like some comfortable motherfucking shoes.

When the hell am I supposed to get a colonoscopy or whatever the shit that procedure is? The last thing I want is a colon full of polyps. I wonder how early I need to switch from the generic version of Centrum to the generic version of Centrum Silver, and am I getting enough fiber? Nah, those actors in the Total commercials look so much older than me. I wonder how those dudes in the beer commercials get to be those dudes in the beer commercials. I'd love to be one of those dudes. I'm going to just start acting like my life is one big beer commercial being filmed. I just hope I get carded.

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Monday, September 10, 2007

September 11th suggestion:
Do not wear clothing to the airport that Osama Bin Laden probably owns.


Last Friday I arrived at Ronald Reagan National airport across the Snakehead-infested Potomac River from Washington, DC, proudly wearing my Arsenal jersey. I was not flying to London to attend a ‘Gunners’ match. They weren’t even playing last weekend. I just felt like wearing it. Soccer jerseys do not go down to your knees like basketball jerseys and they are not constructed to accommodate a pair of shoulder pads underneath them like hockey or football jerseys, so it’s much more like a regular shirt than jerseys of other sports, with one key difference – at least with non-MLS (except the New York Red Bulls) club teams – being that they prominently feature the logo of the team’s major sponsor right on the front.

Walking to the security station, I was not thinking at all about the jersey being any issue, so I was caught off guard when the bearded security guy stood in front of me with a serious face and said “I have to ask you what your shirt means.” I explained that it was a jersey for Arsenal, an English soccer team, and that “Fly Emirates”, was just a message from Emirates, an Airline that sponsors the team. The guard was fine with this explanation and let me proceed through the metal detector. I didn’t even get a special search. I did, however, feel stupid for deciding to wear a shirt that has any kind of reference to the Middle East on it, as an airline reserves the right to remove anyone from a flight if any of its employees or customers are uneasy about him or her (note: I don’t really know if this is true, but it could be and there’s no fucking way I’m going to look it up to check). I also wondered if the guard maybe felt a little bit stupid for working at an airport and seeing “Fly Emirates” and not thinking “Emirates Airlines”. Although I wasn’t really bothered in any serious way for wearing this jersey, I will certainly not be wearing it at an airport again.

Yesterday I was catching up on some recent Deadspin posts, including A Day of Footie Atonement, by David Hirshey, who is an Arsenal fan who writes about soccer for Deadspin. Hirshey, in the column, points out a fact that – as a not-exactly-longtime Arsenal fan – I was unaware of: Osama Bin Laden is a “well-documented supporter of Arsenal”. So note to self, and note to other Arsenal fans: Do not, especially today – September 11th – wear a “Fly Emirates” Arsenal jersey to the airport, or you could end up with a fist of freedom up your precious cavity.

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What Had Happened?


Battleship,

Congrats on getting some playing time late in that game last night after Eli went lame. It must be hard to eat wings and drink several beers and Jack & Cokes while cheering on the Lions and then fly to Dallas where you’re expecting to just hold a clipboard, and actually have to play in the game. That’s what I call a busy Sunday.

Man, I don’t know about you, but I had a pretty good weekend. On Friday I flew to Detroit, Arnie picked me up, and we went straight downtown to see the Tigers whoop up on the Mariners. Then we came back to his house and drank a whole lot of liquor and beer. Oh wait, you were there too! That was awesome. I don’t know about you, but I must have had way too much to drink, because, come to think of it, the next thing I remember is being in the back of your brother’s car Sunday morning. That was really nice of him giving us a ride to the airport. He seems like a really good guy – it was nice to finally meet him. So I remember that, and flying back to DC reading the newest Chuck Klosterman book, and riding the metro home, watching the Redskins while tracking fantasy scores, and of course watching the Lions dominate the Raiders at the bar later. Man, the Lions looked great! This is going to be quite a year for them, I have a feeling.

But I feel like I’m forgetting something about the weekend. Can you think of what may have slipped my mind? I feel like it may be one of those things that I’m going to remember and say to myself, “Duhhhh! That was, like, only the biggest thing to happen last weekend, you dummy!” Was there a concert or a festival in Ann Arbor that we both flew back to go to? I feel like it had to be something kind of big, like big enough that it could have been the whole reason for flying back to Michigan for the weekend. Man, dude. This is embarrassing. Anyway, if you can think of it, let me know. If you can’t think of it either, maybe Arnie remembers. Hope you’re having a good one. And GO LIONS! RAAAR!!

-Awful Chief

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Sunday, September 02, 2007

Just Like the Rest of You Insufferable Swine




Saturday morning I got up and watched the Fulham/Tottenham game on Fox Soccer Channel, which turned out to be an exciting match that featured the great play of Clint Dempsey, who probably is the best American player at the moment. Instead of staying home to watch the Man U/Sunderland match, a game I had special interest in, I put on a Michigan tee-shirt and walked down to a pub that was showing the game on the Big 10 Network. I went to watch a sure blowout, more out of obligation than desire.

Sitting at the bar watching the telecast was torturous. The Big 10 Network currently is only on Direct TV, and as we found out, they didn't lock down many advertisers for the debut game in their inaugural season. Did this speed the game up? No. There were as many commercial breaks as if the game were on ABC. Over-and-over, A pickup rolls down the street with an Illinois flag in the back. Over-and-over, a garage door with the Ohio State Logo painted on goes up. Over-and-over, the close-up shot of the guy spray-painting white parking space lines into his lawn. Over-and-over, Big-10 pride fest during the TV timeouts in the game that hurt the reputation of the Big 10 more than any in the history of the conference.

Fuck my cock. Now what? I'm flying back to watch them play against Oregon, and who knows, maybe they will play well, maybe they will play worse. I don't expect much of the season after the pathetic field goal attempts and the horrible defensive coverage I saw last week, but I can't say I'm confident in anything with this team at this point. It's just so weird. I'm just as disappointed as I was after the last loss the program took, against USC in January. Was it as devastating as it was losing to Ohio State? Not to me, but I cannot figure out why. One thing it definitely was is the most embarrassing single defeat in the history of any sports team I have ever supported. And really, this humbling loss couldn't have happened to a more arrogant community.

Every program goes through some rough years. Ohio State finished a season about ten years ago ineligible for a bowl game. USC had five seasons without a winning record in the 1990's. Notre Dame has been horrible for fifteen years or more now. Oklahoma went five straight years in the mid nineties without a winning season. When Michigan won the national championship in 1997, Texas finished 4-7. Not since before Bo took over has Michigan had a truly awful season. It's about time we got something to really be ashamed of. If we can just move on and have a good season, I'm not going to continue dwelling on this peculiar result. It's a freaky loss that I'll always remember, for sure, but it's just one loss.

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