Quick Hits: Jan. 27, 2009

Cardinals money line, +210 Lock it up!

The Last Templar, I tuned in, but you lost me with the cell phone usage just like 24. There are no cell towers in the middle of the desert! Get it together producers. Just because your Blackberry is biomorphed to your ear and your using Sedona for the Sahara doesn't mean you can get bars anywhere.

Boston, third snowstorm in three weeks tomorrow. Love it. Did you know that the number of inches of snow is perfectly correlated with the number of Southie tire slashings/window breakings/murders (post-Whitey)?

Jessica Simpson, what happened? You went from hot big-time singer/actress to flabby chili cookoff headliner. If you see a guy in cowboy boots and a cowboy hat with a clock on it, you know what that means. Time for Chili.

You 'Kin Do It ...

This morning I was a few minutes early, had passed my manager on the highway, and the cup of coffee I brewed at home was cold and unsatisfactory, so I decided that I would treat myself and go to Dunkins to grab a cup of hot coffee. Like the rest of America, I, too, run on Dunkin and knew I’d need a little of that “‘Kin Do” attitude that is complimentary with each cup of their coffee to get through the day.

Now, the Dunkins near my office is not exactly the best, their staff must not be coffee drinkers because I find that they can sometimes lack that “ ‘Kin Do” attitude, but the coffee is hot, they can follow directions, and the coffee doesn’t taste like cigarettes (you know what I mean, when you’re really looking forward to a hot cup of coffee and it’s burnt. Gross.). So, I head into the local Dunkins, the line is only four people deep, but with two registers that shouldn’t take more than a minute and a half, max. I decide to commit… They’ve already cleared through the two patrons that were at the counter when I walked in and now the line is moving nicely. That’s when I spotted it…

A specimen only indigenous to the North Shore of Boston: the Cougar Masshole and her cub. I knew it as soon as I heard her thick accent obnoxiously cooing to her cub combined with the uniform of faux Juicy velour tucked into her folded over Ugg boots. Now, the coug is not the focal point this post, but rather her young cub all bundled up, anxiously awaiting the treat disguised as breakfast that he was about to be bestowed: a donut. You could see by his little dance in line that he was thrilled at the prospect of having a donut for breakfast. Now the fun was about to begin… I’ve seen it hundreds of times before. Cougar and cub get to the front of the line, she orders her coffee and a chocolate milk for the cub (what a decadent morning he was having), and then asks cub, “what kind of donut would you like?” Lady, the kid is 4 years old! He is beyond excited to have a donut, why would you put his little brain into overdrive like this?! That’s just cruel. First, he wanted jelly, then glazed, then chocolate, and so the process went on. Obviously, he couldn’t decide that the donut he had just asked for wasn’t what he wanted until the attendant picked it up, and nearly had it in the bag. This went on for quite some time, with Cougar chirping in his ear how about this kind? What about a bagel? Oh, honey, I don’t think you’ll like that one… And on it went. Of course the man at the other register was ordering 57 coffees for him and every other construction worker in the greater Boston-metro area. So there I stood, patiently waiting for my caffeinated goodness, for what felt like an hour, while cougar and cub went back and forth on what kind of donut to have. Obviously, she couldn’t have asked him in line what he wanted, nor could she just order him a chocolate frosted donut with jimmies – a favorite among young cubs everywhere. As I waited, it seemed as though the lack of caffeine and a severe case of the Mondays swept over everyone in the place… this cougar had worn our patience thin. She was beginning to notice, but didn’t care, in true North Shore Cougar fashion. Needless to say, what was scheduled to be a two-minute venture turned into a 10-minute ordeal. I’m sure K is hoping it’s the nudge I needed to kick my caffeine habit, but I think instead it was the comic relief and caffeine buzz that are getting me through the day. Oh, and a new episode of Gossip Girl helps, too.

-C

Open Letter to Brett Michaels

Dear Brett Michaels,

I get that you're looking for love... I mean at the end of the day, aren't we all? I mean and it's not like you need to recruit the Millionaire Matchmaker because you know exactly what you want in a woman: easy, hot (by your loose definition of such, which can easily be eclisped if the first requirement is met), bat-shit crazy, and carrying serious emotional baggage, preferably "Daddy Issues." That is why on Rock of Love, Rock of Love II, and Rock of Love Bus the exceptional casting agents at VH1 have found you a bevy of ex-strippers, former porn "stars," white trash, groupies, gold-diggers, and a few minorities for good measure, all for your choosing. I mean I'm sure looking for love and just living on the road is tough... that's probably why you opt for that lovely white-girl weave, a la Kim from the Real Housewives of Atlanta, you've been rocking for the last decade. I'm sure all the different water is murder on your real hair. So, why not make it easier on yourself and make sure that your potential mates are all your "type?!" It just makes sense... If I were in your shoes, I'd do the same thing - it eliminates all the initial hard work of finding "the one."

But, Brett, what I want to know, is do you ever think to yourself "enough is enough?!" I mean yeah, these girls are DTF, but don't you want a woman you can take home to meet your mom? Or your kids? Or that wears something more than lingerie in to the grocery store? Brett, I love your show and I think that you and all of the ladies carefully selected to join the Rock of Love cast deserve to find love, but I am beginning to think that you're just carrying on this charade so you can sleep with girls that were born in the early years of your Poison career. I mean as dictated by the Wrestler, pretty much the last thing you want to be (aside from a has-been wrestler) is a has-been stripper, so I'm assuming that's probably the last thing you'd want to sleep with, too. And as your groupie base ages, I get that you want to still feel young. But, I am beginning to think that you're not looking for LOVE! I am getting the impression that you're just looking to sleep with girls and not develop the emotinal relationship required to actually be in "love." Please reassure me next week that this isn't the case - that you are really looking for love. And if you're not looking for love, please consider this: maybe enough is enough. Even Flavor Flav knows when to fold 'em...

Thanks,

C

PS. Don't you think it's a little hypocritical for you to criticize Beverly for making out with one of your band members when you're making out with everyone there?! Just my two cents...

Lost

Lost is back tonight. I don't know what I can say about this show. It's richly layered and researched storytelling are only matched by it's sheer absurdity at times. It's commitment to character development can be both meritable and infuriating. (Wait, so you just spent an entire episode telling me how Hurley's dad sucked, when last week you revealed that one dude can see the future !?!?) This show has given me more WTF moments than I can remember, but somehow I keep coming back. I haven't given up on it like 24. (Seriously guys, I cannot get a cell signal on the T, but you can make unlimited phone calls from an underground concrete bunker?) It's like that girl who is hot, but crazy. She may have a smoking bod and a pretty face, but she might murder you in your sleep too. I didn't get into the show until the third season, borrowed the first, watched it in three days, and downloaded the second off of Itunes. I've also sworn it off, said I hate it, and mocked it outlandishness. I can't tell if this is romance or Battered Woman Syndrome.

In just the previous season, the complexity has gone up exponentially. If you watch Lost, try to sum up the entire show to a friend in under a half hour; impossible. Even so, me, Johnny Walker, and a island with paternal ghosts?, a mechanical smoke monster, people who can time travel, a four-toed statue (yeah, remember), a pit of massacred scientists, a slave ship with dynamite in it, a drug-running plane, and an apparently endless supply of electromagnetic power and food for Hurley to eat have a date tonight.

Update: See, Hurley tried to explain to his mom what happened this whole time in under two minutes and ended up looking like a crazy person; impossible.

-K

C, you better put up a reality show review or something soon because I am dominating right now.

Barack Obama Turns Water Into Wine

Barack Obama is our new President. Our image in the world is restored. Bring on the crippling fiscal policy. I fake interviewed President Obama today during his inauguration:

K: President Obama, you seem like a good guy with a nice family and all. I think you would make a great neighbor and improve the United States' image abroad, but I have some questions.

P.O.: Well, you seem like a fine young man yourself, shoot.

K: I wanted to ask you about entitlements. Medicare currently covers only the elderly and disabled and by most estimates will start spending money like a Black Jack player who is going for the Jugular at the $100 table. What is your plan to address, as many have put it, this "fiscal timebomb?"

P.O.: Expand it, so it covers everybody.

K: Riiiiight. Isn't that kind of counter-intuitive? Won't you just be hemorrhaging cash even faster that way?

P.O.: Oh, don't worry, we are going to involve the private insurance companies too, but we're going to tell them what to do.

K: OK. Next question. Some people want Bernie Madoff imprisoned in Abu Ghraib for the massive Ponzi scheme he used to defraud investors of $50 billion dollars. Doesn't Social Security use the same scheme, only with over $2 trillion dollars? What is your plan for this?

P.O.: Um, we're just going to leave it as is.

K: Really?

P.O.: No, come on, we'll tax the rich some more, they can afford it.

K: Don't the top 10% of taxpayers already pay 2/3s of the total taxes, what about the Laffer curve effect ... sorry, I'm rambling. I'll try to stay on point.

P.O.: Change.

K: Huh? OK, lastly, we are in a recession and you plan to use the budget as America's Black Card, running up a 1.2 trillion dollar deficit in your first go around. Won't that exacerbate the situation for next generation; having to pay all of this debt off while still propping up insolvent government programs like we are an overly compassionate, enabler mother on Intervention?

P.O.: Listen, Americans aren't spending enough, so I'm going to leverage up and buy into a ton of stuff that might or might not work. Is this your first rodeo?

K: Like Lehman, BOA, Merrill, Goldman, Citi, AIG, Banco Santander, Morgan Stanley...

P.O.: Hey, half of those guys are still around I think.

K: OK, so your plan is to take a massive single payer system, that spends money about as efficiently as Vince from Entourage, expand so it covers everybody, leave a gigantic Pyramid scheme ongoing so it screws young workers like it's a Cutco knife sales pitch, spend about 150% of the nation's income annually all while not causing inflation in a recession? Is this possible? Can we do this?

P.O.: Yes, yes we can.

K: President Obama, you've been a delight. Good luck with your administration. Our interview is over, but seriously, I'm in my twenties, when I retire, will I see a Social Security check or Medicare as a viable entity?

P.O.: Doubtful, but there is always Hope.

Me, In a Nutshell

So, K has done a nice job of kicking this blog off since I was rocking the big H.O. (as in hangover, not whore) yesterday. Anyway, I thought it would be best to share a little bit about myself so that you (assuming that someone aside from K & I read this) can understand me, thus ultimately allowing you to understand my point of view. Also, aside from alluding to my affinity for trashy reality television, I'm not sure K has done me justice. Here's me, in a nutshell:

1.) I LOVE lists, top 10 lists, the ten commandments, grocery lists, any list televised on E!; so I thought it would be befitting that I do this in list format. Please note: I DESPISE to-do lists - I find them to be overwhelming and stressful.

2.) I am an extremist... I strive for a happy medium, but struggle to find the balance.

3.) My inner creative genius is being suppressed as I waste my youth in a cubicle. I plan to find my passion and pursue that... but, it's taking me a little longer than planned to get there. Plus, I like nice things and a starving artist's salary is not conducive to that (see, there are those extremes again).

4.) Martha Stewart and Bree Van De Kamp get it. Cleanliness, simplicity, symmetry, and elegance are of the utmost importance. Moreover, I love to cook and entertain and look forward to the juncture in my life when that is more commonplace. I will have killer dinner parties and my home that looks like the Pottery Barn catalog, well, except for the kitchen which will be decorated from Williams-Sonoma.

5.) I am super preppy. I grew-up in the Land of Milk & Honey, Connecticut, and believe in (in no particular order) popped collars, critters, pearls, plaid, seersucker, J.Crew, cable-knit sweaters, and then layering as many of articles of clothing as possible before leaving the house. A true prep never has less than two layers on. Now, it would be great if K would stop resisting my advances, and embraced his inner prep.

6.) I read Perez Hilton religiously. I have an insatiable thirst for celebrity gossip. Perez, TMZ, People.com comprise my favorites list. But, seriously, nothing really puts life in perspective like a trainwreck starlet.

7.) I went to Catholc School; leaving me very sheltered. Innuendo is lost on me.

8.) Nothing tastes better than the first Sam Summer of the season, unless of course it's something covered in cheese.

9.) This one's a stretch, but stay with me... I believe in a thing called LOVE. However, I am by no means a hopeless romantic. But, having met K at a frat party (yeah, I know - it's a story for the grandkids), we're living proof that love can happen anywhere... And that is why I watch trashy reality TV, especially of the dating variety. Who says drunk ex-strippers, gold diggers, and has-been musicians don't deserve love, too? I'm in no position to deny them that. Ok... so that's partly the reason, as I said before nothing puts your life in perspective like a trainwreck.

10.) I firmly believe that the economy and world will right itself in 2009 because Brit is back. America's Sweetheart is back on top... things are looking up. Trust me.

So, keep all of the above in mind, when reading my posts. It will make it all make sense. Well, maybe. Enjoy.

-C

Ka-druple Team 'Em!

Why did the Eagles lose? They failed to follow Bill Simmons' advice. How do you not go with the vaunted Ka-druple team to guard Larry Fitzgerald. What is the Ka-druple team? I'm assuming it's similar to a four on one defensive scheme, but better and pronounced with a thick accent. This four-headed monster of DBs probably would've shut down those three touchdowns, epic Jerry-Rice-record-breaking-playoff-performance and taken one the other way for six. You can hear about it in The BS Report with Aaron Schatz, Cousin Sal and Mike Lombardi about the conference championships starting at the 7:26 mark. I have read and listened to probably 98% of everything Simmons has written or recorded for ESPN.com since 2000 and found one minor pronunciation error, ha, amateur.


PS - Bill if you happen to have a vanity Google Alert, let's talk. It's just me and you here. No one reads this thing ... yet. What happened to the long form Simmons article? I know you moved to LA and you have kids and stuff now. But, what happened to the 72 greatest sports movies? What happened to Curious Guy? Do you remember when Kimmel made fun of you, questioning whether the length of one of your articles would be shorter than the Bible? Where's an essay on why LeBron is going to win the title this year? For football, all I get is a picks column and a shorter article on Tuesdays. I know your banging out podcasts, which are great, but give me a good old 5000 word Simmons rant about something. I think the best thing for you to do is to fake your back going out, bang through a bunch of NBA games, movies you've seen for the 78th time, and horrible television shows. You would be more overwhelmed with ideas than Eli was by the wind. This might do some damage to your marriage and/or your relationship with your kids, but priorities, Bill. What? Do you want me to do work at work? Nobody wants that.

-K

First. Post. Ever.

OK, first post ever. I wanted to start off by saying whoever has randomtandem.blogspot, you haven't posted since 2004, give up the address. I know words just flow from you, but the faucet has been turned off for 4 and a half years. However, the address being taken also means that I am not as clever as I thought with blog names.


Here at Random Tandem, we'll be covering sports, politics, TV (in C's case, horrid reality television), really whatever pops into our minds that might be informative or entertaining. However, be aware, our posts will not follow any kind of reason or form. In the words of Beanie from Old School, "We will give nothing back to the community."


- K