Happy 54th Paul Westerberg

I'm the best thing, that never happened...

2014 Resolutions

1. Be more reckless with my health.
2. Watch more tv.
3. Don’t take no sh-t from nobody.
4. Loosen the hell up re: recycling.
5. Track down high school football coach, demand to know where my highlight reel for Div. I college recruiters went.
6. Fantasize more about sex with women who are way, way, way, way out of my league.
7. Leave vague, ominous messages on Facebook like “…gee, I dunno…” or ”…out on the ledge…”
8. Go to more high school parties.
9. Remind people that “nobody in (insert town) knows how to drive in the rain” more often.
10. Casually drop the phrase “deez nuts” during a meeting.
11. Spread my wings, see how high I can soar.
12. Get through the year without accidentally eating a raisin.
13. Finish my autobiography, The Life & Times of Xmastime: Believe Me, It Coulda Been Worse.
14. Talk more, listen less.
15. Find out once and for all what all these g@%!dam squirrels are up to.
16. Finally finish the last chapter of the last Sweet Valley High book. Seriously people, it’s time.

17. Quit being so goddam fearless; really question what the hell I'm doing at every step of the way until I've talked myself out of it.

The Year in Xmastime: November

Dudes Day

Welcome to Dudes Day, motherscratchers! Watty, Husky & Xmastime. No chicks - or, as Husky says, "no bitches!" #evenourwaiterwasadude,ugh

Three orders of a dozen wings? Don't mind if we do. Husky declared he'd eat 20 all by himself, and damned if he didn't come close by eating less than half of one. #weareunstoppable

Chicken tenders and mozzarella sticks? Goddam right, that's how we do it in Glover Park, ie The Gangstah GP. #ithinktheoneblackdudetherewasCarltonBanks

Here's classy man-about-town Smithy McSmitherson enjoying a spirited libation.

After all, with all the effort that goes into growing a comical mustache, a fella deserves a drink. #helloladies

A Dudes Day rite of passage: we told Husky how babies are made.

Here comes the upchucking. Not on the 'stache, Husky, not on the 'stache!!!!!

Here it is dawning on him heeeeeeeeey, so THAT'S what Mom and Dad do when they disappear for those 45 seconds every third Tuesday night of every other month.

Shooting stick. Cause that's what dudes do. Here I am putting on a clinic. This is how the kid learns.

Here's Husky calling his shot. The onions on this kid! Love it!

 Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's a whiff. What an idiot.

The Year in Xmastime: October

Thoughts. I Have Them.

Whenever a lady asks a gentleman about the quality of his previous sexual performance, either when merely flirting or just before actually doing the deed itself, the correct response from said gentleman is to lay on as smug a look possible while saying "oh, I've never gotten any complaints." Just once I'd like to hear about some dude who replied with "you know, there have been some complaints..."

The Year in Xmastime: September

America. We DId It.

You've got a busy life going on. You need to catch up pretending to watch Breaking Bad, you're the last person who doesn't have the Daft Punk album. You're working on a amazing screenplay about a record store owner in Williamsburg who is a vampire  zombie  vampire  Miley Cyrus  PR exec based on Rasputin  vampire; meanwhile, continuously pointing out that people don't know how to drive in the rain isn't going to happen all by itself. So who's got time to actually pick up a cheeseburger and eat it, excruciating long bite after excruciatingly long bite? Certanly not you.

But fret not - your problems are over, thanks to cheeseburgers now being a soup. Thank god. Let some other sucker waste all that time chewing, while you're explaining to anyone lucky to listen that you of course don't own a tv.

The Year in Xmastime: August

A Die Hard Movie I'd Like to See

(OPENING CREDITS)

1 minute in: Terrorists attack.
2nd minute in: John McClane gets called in to save the world.
3rd minute in: McClane squinting his eyes at the camera and lighting a cigarette says something inspiring/droll etc like "Someone picked a bad day to get John McClane outta bed."
2 seconds later: McClane steps on a bomb planted by the terrorists, explodes to bits.

(END CREDITS)

The Year in Xmastime: July

Not My Proudest Google du Jour

To Self-Publish, or Not to Self-Publish, That Is The Question Nobody Asks Xmastime

I’ve spent the past year whining and mewling like a baby because a literary agent to represent my “amazing, masterpiece! debut novel” has not presented him or herself to me. Meanwhile, everyone keeps yammering that I should just self-publish it, that’s the way to go these days anyway blah blah blah. Of course me being old school means I am horrified of the thought; having it published by an actual company means I don’t hafta give a shit if people like it, since it was deemed worthy of a publisher. Self-publishing simply means there’s no buffer between it and my friends seeing for themselves that the book is terrible and I’m the worst writer in the world.

On the bright side, reading that my slice of superslices Remembrance of Things Past was initially self-published does soften things a bit should I choose to go in that direction after all.

The Year in Xmastime: June

The Monster

As you already know, when it comes to movies I trust Filmvetter more than anyone else in the world. However, his scathing criticism of Will Larroca's debut film The Monster makes me question this loyalty. In other words, it makes me think Filmvetter doesn't know what the hell he's talking about.

Look, FV is no spring chicken, so maybe he's not "getting" the next generation's sensibilities when it comes to cinema. FV wants everything big and splashy and produced like The Godfather. Larroca looks at a movie like The Godfather and seemingly says "hey, anyone can make a movie with an amazing script, character development and an unparalleled cast - Imma do MY thing!" Larroca's chops are a direct descendant of the great Bob Uecker quote: "Anybody with ability can play in the big leagues. To last as long as I did with the skills I had, with the numbers I produced, was a triumph of the human spirit." Larroca's not worried about the past. Or the future. He's only concerned with being in the now, and there's nothing in the movie that indicates he's particularly worried about that either.  FV wants slickly-made movies he can put labels on. Larroca wants to make art. Call me Team Larroca. The Monster is a fantastic debut.

Filmvetter takes some time to point out what he doesn't like about the film. Important things, such as the particular college hoodie a character chooses to wear. Yes, of course, if only Howard the Duck had worn a Cornell sweatshirt. Very important. Thank you, Filmvetter.

But of course he doesn't point out what's GREAT about Larroca's film. For instance, right out the gate we have the credits, which Larroca has been savvy enough to drag out for about 30 seconds of the 5 minute movie. This is the equivalent of the classic double-spaced, extended block quotes from college term papers. I guess FV doesn't remember college - or, as he calls it, "romping with my school chums in the fens and spinneys." Hey FV, have some buttered noodles & Sanka and hit the hay already, the sun's almost going down. I once wrote the word "very" 11 times in a row in a sentence on a term paper to get to another line. FV wants a big, splashy intro to get right to the movie, with no built-in suspension or anticipation. And yet Larroca makes us white-knuckle it throughout the long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long opening credits. Hey, you know what this is called? FILM-MAKING. Heard of it? FV apparently hasn't.

Larroca is fearless throughout the film, be it from being shown using a Batman pillow case at his age, or casting an actor named "Zeb" with a straight face. This guy just isn't going to play by your rules. The glasses, for example: the shades say "I'm cooler than you"; them being blue says "I'm not even aware I'm being filmed, that's how cool I am." You want Inside the Actor's Studio then go to NYC, bore you very much.You want a movie with guts? It's called The Monster. You're welcome.

FV also misses what's almost the entire point of the film, the obvious product placement via Coca-Cola. I guess FV wishes we were back in the olden times when studio actors got extra pay by appearing on Burma Shave billboards and Uncle Yuck's Comedy Yuck-Yuck Hour of Yucks. Meanwhile, Larocca has obviously studied the history of film as far back as the Wilson/Vaughn vehicle The Internship, and knows that product placement is as important a part of the movie as anything else. Hey, is Charles Ramsay paying for another Big Mac the rest of his life? Hell no. Now, am I saying that taking the lead when it comes to product placement in film makes Will Larroca a hero along the lines of someone who saves girls who have spent years chained up in the basement? Yes.

The ONE thing FV got right is how scary the villain is. I mean, I'm sleeping with the lights on tonight, people. Looking through the door at him appearing/disappearing, an obvious homage to Halloween, made the eyes roll into the back of my head and I fainted. This guy has a chilling laugh about him that says "Yes I'm going to hack you to pieces, but why the long face?" This kid is the find of the decade, and guess who found him? Will Larroca. FV probably would've pushed for Ben Affleck.

The Monster is a movie you'll be thinking of minutes after watching for the first time. For example, where did Larroca find so much ceiling tile and wood paneling? Did he actually go back in time - is he THAT talented, THAT devoted to attention to detail?

I'm sorry FV didn't get any of the sensibilities of this debut film from a young auteur. I'm sure he'll be kerfuffled by Larroca's next masterpiece ("how are people talking on the phone without dialing??!?! Whaaaaaaat?!!!"), which I understand is in the works, and which I can't wait to get my eyeballs on. Meanwhile, sadly, maybe it's time for Filmvetter to hang up his Brother 3200C Word Processor once and for all. If you don't "get" The Monster, then be prepared to be left behind in Larroca's wake.

And you better hope he doesn't leave that freaking Zeb guy in the woods with you when it happens. BOO!

The Year in Xmastime: May

Xmastime AudioBookz

In which I read Robert Cormier's classic The Chocolate War.

Happy Birfday KDAWGGY! :)

Here's a reprint of last year's post, which I prolly also did the year before...yes, I'm too lazy to update the Super Bowl time frame, so whaddya gonna do - what am I, a doctor?
_______________________________________________________________
...KDAWGGY!  Last year's Super Bowl MVP, the first person to point out I have perfectly shaped lips, mother of Count Jackula, and yet another reason to hate Watty.  Grrr.  Watty! (shaking fists at the sky.)

Xmastime: So then I took Op's head, stuck it in the john and flushed!
Kdawggy:  Hahahahah!! You're even sexier in the 1920s!!!!!
Xmastime: Lemme ask you something, baby - is my Old-Fashioned gonna walk here by itself? 

Here she is trying to get me shitfaced so that she can take advantage of me. That made me sad :(

Will has just told Kdawggy what year he graduated high school.

The Year in Xmastime: April

A Few Random Thoughts on Last Night's Mad Men Season Opener

- I know it's supposed to be a way of announcing "hey look, it's 1968!", but rolling out the 60's haircuts was clownish. Camon. I didn't even recognize Ginsburg and Stan until after they had said a few lines. There's no way Harry Crane didn't look at those mon chi chi chops and think you know what, I look like a fucking idiot.

- Speaking of which, is that the worst-looking creative team ever? Wtf? Looked like total losers plucked off the street, with the mother from What's Eating Gilbert Grape? thrown in. Christ. Maybe Draper really IS the sole brain behind the whole thing, cause these people look baffled.

- Same thing with Peggy's crew. How are these retards getting paid?

- Roger was fucking golden with LOLs; my favorite was his reply to his secretary answering that his mother died in the bathroom: "Well, I asked."

- So someone can cheat on Megan? Ladies, it's official: there's no hope for you.

- The thing I'm getting tired of the whole Don Draper's guilt over not being the "real" Don Draper is that it's not as if he waltzed into the dude's life already built. The career he built was all on his own, he's a millionaire, and he bangs hot chicks all day long. It's not like he came back from the crusades claiming to be King Richard, for fuck's sake. So while I can appreciate his whole existentialism thing, lighten the fuck up already.

- Nice to see Sally Draper's coming along right on schedule as the most demonic teenager ever. This kid's gonna scare Carrie at the fucking prom.

- Henry Francis' relentless decency is becoming annoying. He and Ken Cosgrove need to get caught jerking off little boys in a bus depot. And soon.

- Of COURSE the Drapers are in Wakiki in the 60's, since that's where all those post cards are from. I never feel like I'm ever of my own time; I probably would've been one of those assholes when The Beatles came over who was shouting "yo, whatever happened to The Four Seasons?!"

- I remember once reading John Cale say that when he and Lou Reed lived on St Mark's Place they were so poor they couldn't fix the toilet so after they took a crap they'd hurl the shit out of the window. We already know the writers hate January Jones; how great would it be if when Betty's standing outside the building a turd comes flying down and hits her in the head? and with Weiner's slavish devotion to authenticity, wouldn't they love to make it real? Ha!

- On a more general note, I love how a huge part of the show is Don wandering around feeling bad about what a shitty person he is, kicking himself for being a craven, self-destructive douchebag, but when someone calls him on his bullshit he seems so genuinely offended. Awesome.

The Year in Xmastime: March

If She's Blowing Me, Hasn't She Already Had Enough Scotch?

The Year in Xmastime: February

Super Bowl

Both Harbaughs insist oldest brother Stan, coach of Parker County Little league football's mighty Tigers, is the "REAL" coaching genius of the family.

The Year in Xmastime: January

Miracle of Life

The world is oohing and cooing over this shot of a baby grabbing the doctor's finger while being born...surely I'm not the only one thinking this is the best "pull my finger" moment since a certain little wedding, am I?

What the-

Anyone else glance at this photo and think "baby arms"?

H8rz Gon' H8: Xmastime vs. Jane Austen

This reminds me of when Op and I joined the Williamsburg Softball League in 2003. We assumed everybody hated us and would turn their noses up at us, so we parked ourselves next to the Turkey's Nest toilets (Favorite Playah shoutout!) and hated on everybody. To our great disappointment, over the years we learned that most everybody was actually really nice, if not much nicer than ourselves. It was a total fucking drag in a way that can only happen in your youth. - XMASTIME

...and their indifference towards Jane when not immediately before them, restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her original dislike. - Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 8

 

Xmastime Calls Fowl Play

So...Phil Robertson from Duck Dynasty has seen his "suspension" over almost as soon as it began.

But for all this talk of "punishment", the show that aired during the suspension did great ratings. So Robertson still got to profit off the marketing of the show. How exactly is this a punishment? It's not as if Robertson is a real actor and may now have trouble finding roles to play. He said some outrageous shit, his show was still on the air even if he wasn't on the actual screen for that one show.

The whole thing reeks of suspending a starting pitcher, but only between his starts.

Now This Shit's Funny.

Via.

Hmm.

I'm somewhat suspicious of how well my bank is handling my money if they're still using old dot-matrix printers.

I Am Calling Bullshit On This.

Via.

Basset Hound!

When I was in college I had a basset hound named Joe Strummer.  He liked to do the same two things I did: sit on the couch watching tv, and list to the left while walking.  One time when he was a puppy, he took a dump so vicious it woke me up from a dead sleep.

Another time I got a phone call from a friend excitedly telling me "turn on the radio!"  and found myself listening to the receptionist from the hospital, who was talking about a basset hound who had walked into the hospital lobby, become transfixed by the elevator, and spent the next 15 minutes riding up and down, to the delight of all who watched.  even at a young, dumb age I thought "is a hospital really the place for a dog to be walking around?"  sure enough it was Strummer, who had gotten loose.

Then one weekend I was dumb enough to leave him under the care of my dipshit roommate while I was away, and he ran away.  I never saw him again;  almost 18 years later, whenever I see a basset hound I throw it a Jedi-mind trick, and mutter "Strummer, it's me!" under my breath, wondering if it's him and I've found him again.

ANYhoo, here's a basset hound running in slow motion. Enjoy.

Toby Keith Hates Freedom, Jesus, and Jesus' Scrappy, Loveable Sidekick, Baby Jesus

Toby Keith does not allow guns in his restaurant; Virginia shits itself with anger.

Thoughts, Barely, by Xmastime

If 10 year-old me knew that one day I'd more excited about seeing the Season 3 Downton Abbey finale in preparation for next Sunday's Season 4 premiere than watching a Cowboys game that would decide whether or not they made the playoffs, 10 year-old me would absolutely fucking hate me.

Paul Ryan Just Keps On Giving: God Bless His Frozen Little Heart.

Paul Ryan calls out The Pope for not knowing how shit works:

“The guy is from Argentina, they haven’t had real capitalism in Argentina,” Ryan said (referring to the pope as “the guy” is a nice folksy touch.) “They have crony capitalism in Argentina. They don’t have a true free enterprise system.”

Obviously this means that Jesus Christ didn't know jack-shit about the magic of the American trickle-down free-enterprise system either, so. Good on Ryan for taking the both of these hippie-commie faggots down a notch.

Xmastime Classixxx

Just stumbled on THIS EPISODE of Beverly Hills 90210. Ugh.

Of course, maybe it's just me.

The Best of Frasier Crane

Does anyone know where the word “shampoo” came from? According to the dictionary, it’s meaning is “Any of various liquid or cream preparations of soap or detergent used to wash the hair and scalp.” From this I would expect a soft, clean word. But when you break down “shampoo”, I see sham, which means trick, therein lending itself to “tricky”. And the second half of it is another word for “shit.” So basically the word means “tricky shit”, which is ironic cuz shampoo is the gold standard for simplicity: rinse, lather, repeat. Hmm.

2014 New Year's Resolution

Lower my bench press. I mean, enough's enough already.

Sorry It's a Day Late

Happy Birthday (yesterday) Shane MacGowan. Here's a semi-crappy picture of him with my friend Christine :)

Your Day. It's Made Now.

Via Deadspin:

On Wednesday night, a small all-boys choir assembled on the steps of Federal Hall, set up a music stand next to the statue of George Washington, and prepared to sing for a crowd of New Yorkers. They were dressed impeccably in Ben Sherman peacoats, each with a tartan scarf and a newsboy cap. It would be hard to imagine a more adorable group of kids to sing Christmas carols.

But this was no sweet and wholesome caroling session — instead of singing "Holly Jolly Christmas," the choir launched into a spirited version of the anarchic anthem "I Fought the Law.

It was a scene that would have made The Clash, who famously covered the song, very proud. The bankers leaving work and tourists walking around this historic part of town all gathered around expecting the angelic, dulcet-toned voices to sing of holiday cheer. It was a bit jarring, then, to hear grinning eight-year-olds belt out the phrase "Robbing people with a six-gun."

I still wonder why the mysterious death of Bobby Fuller (he wrote the goddam song, you hicks!) isn't a big deal, tho.

Enjoy.

Dennis Reynolds. He Gets It.

I can't remember the last time I saw It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but I just stumbled onto the one in which Dennis and Frank go to an orgy, and Dennis asks:

"Why is there a buffet at a goddam orgy, Frank?"

Agreed! Sort of:

One thing I don't understand about strip clubs is that they all seem to have buffets in them. Who is this for? Seriously, every ad I see for a strip club there's some hot piece of ass stripped down to nothing, licking her lips in my direction like she just can't WAIT to throw her titties in my face and then the ad feels the need to remind me "oh, and while you're here you can load up on baked ziti and mashed potatoes!" I know it's "been a while," but I distinctly remember that at no point in the moments just before beginning tenderness with a lady friend did I ever think "You know, this would be a whole lot better if I was covered in grease and completely bloated." I'd love to get the stats on how many kids are born 9 months after Thanksgiving Day, for instance.

Thoughts. I Have Them.

I think one of the greatest things about having a wife is you no longer have to even think for one minute about Christmas gifts. I wanna be the guy who's just as surprised at what's inside the box as the recipient is while unwrapping his gift. Those guys are goddam heroes to me.

Charlie Brown Xmas, cont.

And whoever’s behind the newer Peanuts shows that follow the holiday specials, knock it the fuck off. I turned on to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, not Linus' Pee Burns. NOBODY loves Peanuts more than Xmastime, but lets face it, the reason we love Peanuts is its nostalgia. Play the old hits and get off the air, please. At a Modern English concert do I stick around after I Melt with You to hear their new "hits"? No. HELL no…..I’m be in the can with all the other Euro-queers, spraying whipped cream on the walls and smoking cloves.

Charlie Brown Xmas, cont.

What the fuck's up with Pig Pen? Here’s a kid walking around encased in a cloud of filth and dirt. Great. How fast would his fucking parents get thrown in jail by social services today? But, more importantly, what does this asshole have going on that’s so great that he’s still friends with everybody even though he’s basically a moving sewer? Wouldn’t it be awesome if it turns out he’s like "Fuck it, I got a 14-inch dick, I ain’t bathing." Or maybe he’s the one with the blow? The greatest ‘heads-up 7-up’ champion of his generation?

A&E Hates Freedom, Probably Jesus and His Scrappy, Loveable Sidekick Baby Jesus Too.

I'm sure your Twitter has blown up like mine over the Duck Dynasty fiasco. My Tea Party friends are outraged over the suspension. Of course as I mentioned during Sniffy-Wiffy's Dr. Laura nonsense a few years ago, "freedom of speech" does not mean "freedom from consequences":

Somebody needs to explain to Sarah Palin (I refuse to call her "Sniffy" right now) who exactly is "shackling" Dr. Laura. Because the answer, as far as I can tell, is nobody.

Yes, if you throw the N-word around on your radio show you might lose listeners. Yes, you might lose sponsors concerned about their own brand. Which, I believe, is the genius of the free market that someone like Sarah Palin espouses to love so much. If there was a market for a 63 year-old white women to say "ni--er!" on the radio all day, the sponsors would be lined up around the block.

At no point did the evil gub'ment step in to shut Dr. Laura down. She quit.

But, in the sacred world of private industry wherein people hire other people in accordance with how much money they can bring in, again a world that Sarah Palin can only pretend to understand, throwing the word "ni--er" around on a radio show would presumably not be a smart thing to do.

And of course we're talking about a guy on a show which a lot of people watch solely to make fun of their backwoods, redneck ways, so being surprised he's not in love with the idea of dudes fucking each other is pretty strange. Surely the clock was running on this the second the show started, no?

And oh. Guess who is in the mix? Of course. Oh, Sniffbat, don't ever change.

So pissed she said it twice, I guess.

Xmastime is Here.

Indeed, motherfuckers.

It's New to Someone

Regaled some friends tonight with my funeral bit:

7) I am currently preparing another website devoted to my incredibly elaborate, almost unbearable-for-those-who-loved-me 14-hour funeral service. Included will be my list of song choices (“The Cuts”) and some skits I will have prepared (“The Skits”) acting out various scenes from my life. I do feel bad for my buddy Op, upon whom I have placed the most chores on that darkest of days (no, I’m not calling it a fucking “celebration” – anyone there “celebrating” instead of being physically overcome with grief over my passing will be dealt with by Op. I’m putting it in black and white right here: not now, nor will I ever proclaim that I want people having a good time at my funeral. Therefore the first fuckwad that says “Hey, Xmastime would want us to have fun” gets a boot heel to the throat. This I promise.), including jobs like making sure all my past lovers are seated together so that they can try to out-grieve each other and scoring the “What Xmastime Meant to Me” essays. So be on the lookout for this site in the near future. Also, I’m putting this down in black & white too: not now, nor will I ever proclaim that I want my wife to get remarried. If she starts throwing out that garbage “Oh Xmastime would want me to move on and be happy” SHE’S LYING!! DON’T BELIEVE HER!!! I’m looking to assign someone the job of making sure she visits the cemetery at least once a week and hurls herself on my grave wailing uncontrollably for an hour or so. Let me know who’s up for that one.

Also, don't let my buddy Dave forget the up and down tease as they lower and raise my casket into the grave to Sugar Sugar; or that just when people think they can no longer squeeze out another tear, from off past the horizon, past a hill, they barely hear the strains of something they gradually begin to pick up as the horrible minutes pass, until they realize it's Op blowing sadly on a tuba, walking over that hill and slowly making it to the grave, emotion therein unrestrained among those grieving who haven't required medical assistance/hydration yet.

I'm assuming it's perfectly normal to put way more thought into one's death than life.

One Word: J. Chitwood

Via.

Dreams. I Have Them.

5) I’m starting a “Dudes Whose Lives I’d Like to Have” list. So far I got Hugh Hefner, Jimmy Buffet and Derek Jeter. As great as it’d be they each have their drawbacks, I suppose. Hef’s old. Buffett, you’d hafta sing Margaritaville every day. Jeter’s not 100% white. I guess it’s true, nobody’s perfect. - XMASTIME

I'm adding Benny Hill to this lst, even though he died over 20 years ago. MF got paid a ton of dough for making ribald 3rd grade jokes and surrounding himself with hot, scantily-clad women. Cap doffed, old sir.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Got my first Christmas Card of the year!

Mukluks: The Short Bus.

I will say that if my apartment was on fire and I could only grab one thing, my stack of Christmas Cards with my kid empire through the years might be what I'd grab.

If I'm Lying I'm Crying LONG LIVE LISK!

Listening to the last ever episode of The Best Show, and playing Big Star outta nowhere caught me off guard. Light waterworks.

Ah Yes, the 90's

In which Helen Chapel and Antonio Scarpacci from Wings can wear the exact same clothes. Of course.

Movie du Jour

There's just something about the slowness and cinematography of Tender Mercies that makes it completely intoxicating.

Calling Bullshit du Jour

People...well, people on MSNBC's Morning Joe, anyway...are starting to wonder if antibacterial soap is bullshit.

"But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP), “didn't you call this bullshit six years ago?"

OF COURSE I FUCKING DID.

I'm amused that the hand sanitizer in my bathroom claims that it kills, and I quote, "99.99% of germs." Really? If...if you know there's still .01% out there, why not kill them too? You seem to know the exact amount of germs that are left, so why would you stop there? "But Xmastime," you say in your Ironhead Heyward (RIP) voice from those soap commercials, “it's a kind of disclaimor for any possible lawsuit."* I guess in the case of someone dropping dead from using the stuff, their lawyers can step in with "oh sure, well, obviously they got it from the 0.01% of germs we didn't kill, as we clearly stated on the bottle, so..." Then why call it "sanitizer" in the first place? Nothing can be KIND of sanitized, can it? It either is 100% or it isn't at all, no? Fucking hand sanitizer. The Ryan Seacrest of the toilette.  

*The first-ever Ironhead double-dip in one post? This is indeed a day to celebrate, people!!

Fla. School Hates America and Liberty and Apparently is Run by Obama; Jesus and His Scrappy, Loveable Sidekick Baby Jesus Are Losing Their Shit as We Speak.

Via.

Is This What It's Come To?

RG III's dad is sticking his nose into Redskins business:

Robert Griffin III and his father have become targets for blame. Bleacher Report’s Jason Cole reports that a “hardheaded” Robert Griffin III and and his “interfering” father have become problems for embattled head coach Mike Shanahan and his staff.

Cole reports that Griffin’s father has become a nuisance to the Redskins, acting like the college stage dad that some people warned NFL executives about before the 2012 draft.

In recent weeks, according to two sources close to the situation, the elder Griffin has politicked Dan Snyder to hire Baylor coach Art Briles, who coached the younger Griffin to a Heisman Trophy, to replace Shanahan.

I don't think I've ever heard of an NFL player's father doing such a thing. Is this the most pathetic example of helicopter-parenting (he's a goddam qb in the NFL, for fuck's sake!), or just something in the sport we're gonna hafta get used to?

"You hear that, Pop? Get 'em!"

Well. These Fuckers Won Christmas.

Of course it helps that the mom is hot as ballz.

Now This Is Awesome du Jour

Someone took a trip around the country taking pictures of iconic or scenic basketball goals. Here's Larry Bird's childhood one in French Lick.

Wonder if The Chinn Dome made it in the book...

Questions. I Have Them.

Along with the entire Violent Femmes debut album and I Melt With You, could Don't Go Back to Rockville be considered THE song of the 80s?

Buddy Holly Lives

Tommy Allsup tells the spooky-spooky story of his losing a coin flip to Richie Valens, which of course has kept him alive 50+ years after the day the music died. His wallet & I.D. being on the plane when the plane was found of course led to his name being listed by the AP as among the dead. Still not as bad as poor ol' Waylon Jennings, then Buddy''s bass player: "when Holly learned that Jennings was not going to fly, he said in jest, "Well, I hope your ol' bus freezes up." Jennings responded, "Well, I hope your ol' plane crashes," a humorous but ill-fated response that haunted Jennings for the rest of his life."

And a side fact, if I heard him correctly, that I'd never read in all my years of worshiping Buddy Holly: Buddy's last-ever drummer? Richie Valens. And vice-versa. Cool.

Next Up for The Hardy Boys Series: The Essex High School Football Mystery

My high school lost the state championship game for the second straight year. While reaching the game is amazing in and of itself, the teams I played on never sniffed a winning season much less the playoffs, the two seaon sare oddly alike.

1. Crush everybody with a high-flying offense during the regular season.
2. Crush everybody with a high-flying offense during the playoffs, even if they're playing the best teams in the state.
3. Completely flop in the championship game.

Here's the scoring over the two years:

2013
Regular season: 426  42.6ppg
Playoffs: 167 41.75ppg
State championship game: 0

2012
Regular season: 549  54.9ppg
Playoffs: 145 36.25ppg
State championship: 14

And here's the defensive numbers from the same years:

2013
Regular season: 120 12ppg
Playoffs: (4 games) 49 12.25ppg
State championship: 21

2012
Regular season: 85 8.5ppg
Playoffs: (4 games) 73 18.74ppg
State championship: 41

After punishing opponents into submission during the regular season, they gave up around twice as many points in the title game as they'd averaged throughout the rest of the playoffs. I mean, what the fuck? Maybe we can only win these kind of things when Chris Brown is in the house?

Hey, maybe the teams I played on were awful on a historic level, but we had some laughs and totally rocked the sexiest shorts ever.

Xmastime Classixxx du Jour

Antonio from Wings, one of tv's all-time under-appreciated supporting characters, is on the right end of a suicide prevention hotline call. I don't think I've ever heard of a suicide prevention line. I don't think I know anyone who knows anyone who has ever heard of a suicide prevention line. Except, of course, for Brenda Walsh:

Watching this stupid episode of Beverly Hills, I realized what a great suicide line worker I’d be. I mean, who the hell else would you rather talk to when you wanna feel good about yourself?

XMASTIME: Hotline, what’s your name?
CALLER: Hi, I'm…Brian.
XMASTIME: Hi Brian. How we doing?
CALLER: Not so good…not good at all…everything’s bad…
XMASTIME: Talk to me.
CALLER: Well. I haven’t hooked up with a girl in like 2 months.
XMASTIME: Really.
CALLER: Yeah…hey, this is anonymous, right? You know my name’s not really Brian, right? Cause I’m embarrassed.
XMASTIME: Brian, I haven’t gotten laid in three years.
CALLER: What the…what?
XMASTIME: That’s right. And she was a drunk Chinese slut, so lord knows what’ll happen to me.
CALLER: Oh my god. Three years?
XMASTIME: I lied, Brian. Five years.
CALLER: Jesus Christ. I’d freakin die.
XMASTIME:Well, not on the phone I hope.
CALLER: And it’s just that…my girlfriend, I dunno, Sometimes she bugs me. Wants to be with me all the time.
XMASTIME: Really. Hmm. Sounds tough.
CALLER: Right? Sometimes I just wanna hang out with the guys!
XMASTIME: How old are you Brian?
CALLER: 23.
XMASTIME: Okay. The last time I had a girlfriend, you were 10.
CALLER: What the…really?
XMASTIME: That’s right. Know what I’ve done every day and night since?
CALLER: What?
XMASTIME:“Hung out with the guys.” Know what I’d like?
CALLER: What?
XMASTIME: Some chick who wants me to be with her all the time.
CALLER: Jesus. That’s right. You’re so right.
XMASTIME: How’s the job front going Bri?
CALLER: Oh, it’s okay. Boring; I’m in line for a promotion and raise, but sometimes I wonder if selling out for some big corporation is what I really wanna be doing.
XMASTIME: Hmm. Sounds rough.
CALLER: Dude. You don’t wanna know.
XMASTIME: Actually I would Bri. I don’t have a job. Matter of fact, as I’m on the phone with you I’m trying to see if I can string this suicide line job out to 8 lines on my resume.
CALLER: Really? Jesus.
XMASTIME:That’s right. What’s this, Wednesday?
CALLER: Uh huh.
XMASTIME: Cool. Wednesdays are the nights I extend my Prell shampoo with water.
CALLER: Oh my god.
XMASTIME: If I’m feeling randy enough, knock out broken glass/urine cleanup in my room.
CALLER: I…uh…
XMASTIME: That way I can spend tomorrow night wondering if I’m gonna drop dead from a heart attack.
CALLER: Ummm….
XMASTIME: Anyways, you were saying something about being despressed?
CALLER: Well, yeah, but…
XMASTIME: I’m listening.
CALLER: Hey, look…I gotta go, I’m gonna pop in and surprise my girl
XMASTIME: You sure? I got time to talk, Brian. Murder She Wrote isn’t on for another hour.
CALLER: oh, jesus. I’m…I’m gonna go. Thanks for your help…
XMASTIME:You got it Bri!
CALLER: Actually…thanks a LOT…
XMASTIME: Good luck, Brian.
CALLER: Thanks man,
XMASTIME: Keep me in mind if anything opens up at your office!

Damn, I used to be funny.

The Buddy Holly Story is On Again! Happy Xmas To Me.

Well. This is Genius.

Mukluks: illWill

Dying du Jour

Mukluks: Sully

Oh, for Fuck's Sake

Last month I warned that Bush is back.

And now we see this:

Bush has, quietly and wholly, ingeniously refashioned himself into an Internet-friendly, cat-loving, ironic-hat-wearing painter-cum-Instagram savant. Lately, George W. Bush is a hipster icon, and the Internet, unofficial Fourth Estate of the youth of America, is totally buying it.

Sigh.

At least we can dream, can't we?

America's Team: Was Tom Landry Actually a Curse?

Born on 9/11. Married on the same date as the Challenger explosion. And, worse, died the same day as Charles M. Schulz.

I mean, how much did this guy hate America?

And We're Off!

Today marks the beginning of the Christmas season, since it was today that I heard Do They Know It's Christmas in a store for the first time this season.

One of the reasons Do They Know It's Christmas is, to me at least,  the most "Christian" of Christmas songs is that it's message is very simple: GIVE MONEY TO POOR PEOPLE. Period.

It's not a collection of vagueness about how great Jesus was, it's not some "gee, if we pray God will save them" nonsense - if you have a lot of money, you should give some it to those who need it more than you do.  Your prayers are not going to feed some kid in a  desert with a vulture circling, but money can. Patting ourselves on the back re: how "Christian" we are is fun and makes us feel better, but unless you're actively giving money to poor people, you're not really helping.

And that's yet another reason why I love the song - it doesn't offer salvation, it doesn't promise you'll feel better - it says what we all wanna say: "hey, thank fucking god it's them instead of me."  And in the meantime, send some $crillah. 

New Favorite Meme

Drunk Baby!  And no, I'm not accusing them of stealing my idea.

Mukluks: illWill

Love It du Jour

Hate-reading parent articles!

Call it the parenting hate-read. The answer to the modern-day “parent question” is a weekly ritual (or twice weekly: Sunday and Thursday Style sections) in which we hold up a new set of moms and dads for a round of public shaming (or, in the case of the first-person diatribe, self-flagellation)...But it doesn’t really matter if you’re a “good parent” or a “bad parent”—we’ll hate-read you both with equal enthusiasm.

We're All Obi-Wan Kenobi Now

Basketball du Jour

Anybody with ability can play in the big leagues. But to be able to trick people year in and year out the way I did, I think that was a much greater feat. - Bob Uecker

This shot has been everywhere all day. and deservedly so. But in terms of amazing moments on the hardwood, can I really put it above The Greatest Walk of All Time? No, I cannot. Sorry.

Kobi Dogs

I believe I speak for all of mankind when I ask "what the fuck took so long?"

Mukluks: illWill

ODDS: Odds Disaster Disappointment Syndrome

KRAMER: (Like a teacher) The Andrea Doria collided with the Stockholm in dense fog 21 miles off the coast of Nantucket

(Everyone's taken back by Kramer's knowledge)

GEORGE: How do you know?

KRAMER: it's in my book - "Astonishing Tales of the Sea" 51 people died.

GEORGE: 51 people?! That's it?! I thought it was, like, a thousand!

KRAMER: There were 1,650 survivors.

GEORGE: That's no tragedy! How many people do you lose on a normal cruse? 30? 40?! Kramer, can I take a look at that book?

KRAMER: Oh yeah. I also got "Astounding Bear Attacks"

One thing that kills me (whoops, bad choice of words there...I'm actually writing this so that in case the plane crashes, this will be the most ironic blog posting of all time) is whenever there is a plane crash, and the news people will lament that there are "only" 15 or so survivors. I'm like..."only"????!?!? wtf. How do people survive plane crashes? I'm in a tin box 6 miles in the air that plummets to the earth at an unspeakable speed, and I survive it? How the fuck does that happen? That, to me, is in my "Top 3 Least Preferable Deaths." You have a couple of minutes to sit there and think "great...I'm gonna die...not only are they gonna find my mangled body covered in my own shit, but I should've thrown out my porn before I left for the airport..."*

Meanwhile, since I'm a sexy, single man-about-town in our nation's capital, I'm at home watching The Waltons episode in which John-Boy witness the Hindenburg Tragedy. Of course I Wikipedia'd it and found out that as horrible as it looked, there almost twice as many survivors, 62, as deaths, 38. Am I going to hell for being disappointed in this? 

*This entire paragraph was straight-up lifted from one of my very firsts posts back in 2005. Which should be incredibly obvious - who needs to "throw out" porn anymore?

Regrets. I've a Few. OMG I Totes Just Made That Up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When I was pledging a fraternity, one night of hazing included my being blindfolded and then led into the bathroom, where I was told that if I "wanted it" it enough, I'd reach in the bowl and grab the log a brother had left in there. Of course, I immediately thought "it's a banana." Which it was. But in that split second before I reached in, I thought to myself I should stick my face in there and pull it out crazed with intensity, eyes rolling in the back of my head and snarling like a lunatic with the banana clenched between my teeth. I'd still be a campus legend. Well, for something I'm proud of. - XMASTIME

HERE'S A LIST of The Top 10 Regrets of Dying People, featuring the usual "I should've said I love you more" or "I should've made more time for my family" and other boring shit blah blah fucking blah. I'd hate to think I'll be that unoriginal on my deathbed.

More Xmastime regrets HERE.

Xmastime Relationship In Which the Lady Is Not Aware of Said Relationsip, or Xmastime For That Matter, du Jour

Fuck Yeah Caroline Polacheck.

Say it with me, people: nom. nom. nomitty. nom.

Jesus and His Scrappy, Lovable Sidekick, Baby Jesus, Slap Each Other Five and Laugh at Al Gore and All the Other Homos Who Hate America and Freedom by Promoting an Agenda That Claims Global Warming is "A Thing."

Detroit, Michigan

Anthony Bourdain on Detroit maybe becoming the next cool thing:

Do you buy into the notion, then, that artists and loft-dwellers are going to refab parts of Detroit as a kind of cheaper Brooklyn redux? It’s always part of a continuum. First come the artists, and then following the artists will be designers and the hip, wildly expensive boutiques, and then a couple of restaurants and then you’ve got a different neighborhood. I’m not even necessarily saying that’s bad. But that’s generally the way it is whether you’re talking about East Berlin or the Lower East Side.

"But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP), “didn't you say the exact same thing four years ago?"

OF COURSE I FUCKING DID.

But don't be upset. I've become used to the Universe lagging years behind me.

Wait, What?

How many version of Can't Hardly Wait are there out there? There's the album. The (best version) Tim version. There's the acoustic version. There's versions with horns, without horns, with/without strings. And now, via their brand new website at which you can stream their entire catalog, there's another version that's a mix of the Tim and album version. Sounds more like a demo than an "alternative version" as it's listed.

Ronnie Lippett

I can't remember what brought me to his page, but does Ronnie Lippett have the worst Wikipedia page ever? First of all, it's written as if by a 3rd-grader. But worse, Ronnie Lippett played in the NFL for 8 years. He started in 111 of 122 games. I remember him. He wasn't a scrub. And these are some of the highlights of his career, deemed Wiki-worthy:

He recovered an onside kick by Dean Biasucci in the Patriots 16-14 win over the Colts on 09-16-90.

Ronnie blocked an extra point attempt by Pat Leahy in the Patriots 23-13 win over the New York Jets @ Sullivan Stadium on 9-18-83.

Wtf? Reminds me of one of Bob Uecker's many, many amazing quotes:

"Career highlights? I had two. I got an intentional walk from Sandy Koufax and I got out of a rundown against the Mets."

"But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP), “didn't you once block an extra point at Lancaster?"

Sigh. You know I don't like to bring things like that up. But yes. Yes I did. But don't even think about starting that "You're a goddam hero" shit. That is, after all, for history to decide, not me. Though if I'm being honest right now, I'd probably lean towards "yes."

Career highlights? I had two - I got an intentional walk from Sandy Koufax and I got out of a rundown against the Mets.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/b/bob_uecker.html#amvSV189bCXpMEir.99

Speaking of Fairytale of New York

There's Fractured Fairy Tales. There's Fairytale of New York. Why is there no Fractured Fairytales of New York?

I will now assume your mind to be blown.

First Snow Day of the Year

(originally posted December 2, 2007)

The only thing I like as much as complete and utter darkness outside is when it snows. And today, finally, brings the first snowfall of the year, which led me to start thinking about certain albums that snow reminds me of. Sometimes it's the sound, sometimes some stupid memory attached to it. Such as

The Replacements Tim: any Replacements album has a fall/winterness to it. Tim sounds like winter because of the reverb, plus I can still hear it as David English's huge gray truck pulls us out of a ditch on a snow day, freed from school.
-----------------------------------------
The Replacements Don't Tell a Soul in unrequited (at the time) love for the first time, listening to this going sledding with a broken heart.
-----------------------------------------
Husker Du Flip Your Wig: everything they did sounded like a blizzard, right?
-----------------------------------------
Pavement Slanted and Enchanted: doesn't sound wintry, but it was snowing when I first heard it in a station wagon (and I REALLY wanted to hate it.)
-----------------------------------------
The Phil Spector box set: camon. All those songs reek of winter; something about that wall of sound. And that's BEFORE you put the Christmas record on. Prolly THE winter/snow set.
-----------------------------------------
The Ramones Halfway to Sanity: was another snow day when I bought this (12/22/87) at Doc's in town. Loaded up in my friend Brian's Capri, went to Richmond to walk around the mall all day.
-----------------------------------------
U2 War and The Unforgettable Fire: just sound wintry. I guess that video for New Years Day helps.
-----------------------------------------
The Beatles A Hard Day's Night: cozy wintry sound, and makes me think of all the snowy nights I played this on the juke at the Halloween Bar.
-----------------------------------------
DT & the Shakes Don't Let Me Down single: has that enclosed, compressed sound to it that reeks of cold, winter night. and I grew up worshiping them and the Rational Herdsmen and the Undecided, all at JMU in the mid-80s, and I'd always picture them playin at a bar while it snows outside. Awwwwwwww.
-----------------------------------------
And of course if you see snow and don't immediately think of Fairytale of New York, then you ain't human.

Old Cell Phone Suckage

I have a suspicion that "igh" making the hard "i" sound would never had happened if texting on cell phones was around back when they came up with that shit, right? How fucking aggravating is that shit - one of the most used groups of letters we have, and all three are on the same number. Slows everything down. My thumb going round the keypad in a blinding flurry, knocking out whole words in seconds and then i...pause, wait for cursor to move...g...pause, wait for cursor to move...h...gotta go find phone I just threw into the street...fuuuuuuck! Luckily of course this is sometimes overshadowed by the fact that for some reason to use the number 1 or 0 I have to go through about 15 fucking symbols for each one. 1 and 0, the most fundamental and primary of all the numbers, and I gotta get fucking carpel tunnel to type the number 10. - XMASTIME

What If? asks the important question:

"I use one of those old phones where you type with numbers—for example, to type "Y", you press 9 three times. Some words have consecutive letters on the same number. When they do, you have to pause between letters, making those words annoying to type. What English word has the most consecutive letters on the same key?"

The answer:

...nonmonogamous, which requires you to type seven consecutive letters (nonmono) with the "6" key.

And yes, of course I figured it out before looking up the answer. Of course.

And ah yes, Paddy Mac cell phone memories!


"Yeah? well I tell you what baby, how bout I get there when I fucking get there!!"















"I...I...I...yes dear....yes dear....but -...yes dear.....I'm sorry...yes dear..."