Pap Pap Takes A Fall

 

I just returned from a trip to Florida, hands down my least favorite place to visit in the USA.  If given the choice between a weekend in Miami or a weekend in Buffalo, I am choosing Buffalo 99 times out of 100.  The contrived soullessness of Florida with its paper mache strip plaza landscape is a cultural desert with full blast air conditioning.  I am always happy to leave it.  After picking up the bassets at the dog boarder, they were all jacked up with separation anxiety/back to home joy.  As a result, they both drank a gallon of water shortly before bedtime.  I suspected that this would be an issue, and indeed it was.  At 4am Marvin started crying.  It was one of those "I'm not kidding.  I REALLY gotta pee!" cries that I recognized.  I got up in a fog and took the bassets outside where they both had marathon pisses.  

I am not a great sleeper.  I don't have one solid 8 hour sleep, but rather string together a series of multi hour naps.  As I stood there waiting for the dogs to come back inside I knew I'd probably have a challenge to fall back asleep.  I decided my best move would be to go to the couch and see if I could fall asleep streaming some video as white noise.  I didn't turn on any lights as that would have made it impossible for me to fall back asleep, so I walked over to the couch using the laptop as a flashlight.  The bassets, thinking that this just might be a chance at an early breakfast, excitedly circled me as I headed across the room.  This was when I made my mistake...

I would love to see video of how I did it, because even now I'm not sure of the mechanics.  All I can tell you is that as I fell after tripping over the coffee table.  I held the laptop aloft to make sure it was safe therefore guaranteeing I would take the full blow to my head.  I fell straight forward, snapped my head backwards when I hit the couch frame, and then tried to catch myself with my right arm which immediately seized up my tricep.  I hit so fucking hard I thought "you just broke your neck and died.  What a stupid way to die.  You fucking idiot.".  My head snapped back like if someone had hit your forehead with an aluminum baseball bat as hard as they could.  It was unbelievable. 

I sat up and took a quick inventory.  I moved my various body parts.  I couldn't believe that I was still functioning.  The dogs licked my face.  Holy shit did my arm and head hurt.  I was on my hands and knees like when you see a QB take a monster hit in an NFL game.  Ok.  Ok.  Ok.  I got up and sat on the couch.  That's when I could feel the swelling start.  Within minutes a huge index card sized lump started to form on my forehead and my right upper arm swelled up tight like a sausage.  It felt like my skin was going to pop open.  It's 4am and I'm trying to figure out how I am going to ice this down and maybe control it.  I wasn't dizzy.  I wasn't nauseous.  Maybe this wasn't so bad?  (Honestly, I had just gone though a near death experience but I wouldn't think about that until later.  Eight inches to the right and I would have hit the brick hearth.  Dead.  Four inches left and it would have been the couch corner.  Dead.)  Now I had to figure out how to get a couple frozen bags of peas to balance on my head and back of my arm simultaneously.  The bassets went to their bed and immediately fell back asleep.  The house was quiet.  Should I go to the ER?  Fuck.  

I didn't have any of the signs that suggested skull fracture but I'm sure I had some level of concussion.  There was no bleeding, barfing, or dizziness.  I decided just to ice it.  Two days later the lump is down and all that blood started to drain into my skull giving me a raccoon eyes like I was an early member of KISS.  The arm had turned a brilliant shade of violet.  I looked terrible but all things considered didn't feel that bad.  That's when I went to my 6 month follow up to the cardio guy.  When he walked in the room, he had what I would call a strong reaction.  I believe his first words were "JESUS CHRIST!!!!".  He was so freaked out he couldn't even look at me when he was talking.  He was insisting I get a CT scan and wanted to put me in a wheelchair to make sure I could make it down there.  I had walked the dogs for an hour that morning, and had even worked out the day before.  I thought I was on the mend, but he was really freaking out.  This is when I thought that maybe I had fucked up on my decision making.    

After a series of X-rays and scans it turned out I didn't fracture my skull.  I did get a hairline fracture by my elbow, but they can't really do anything about that so it didn't matter.  I have now entered my "old guy with weird face injury" phase, similar to guys you see at Home Depot or the grocery store with flaking open sores or loosely taped gauze.  I knew this phase was coming for me sooner or later, but I didn't expect to go from the pit at a Viagra Boys show last Monday to "Yes, as a matter of fact, I have had a recent fall" in 8 days.  It's this type of whirlwind series of events that only confirms my suspicion that I am on borrowed time.  I'll tell you this, I'm not planning a skydiving trip or mountain climbing expedition anytime soon.  Extreme sports for me have moved out of that realm to "mowing the lawn on a hot afternoon".  It's grim.

My focus is now on this lingering headache and NFL futures.  It's so difficult to find value on these because of the over analysis from every dime store dickhead like myself trying to find any edge.  I try to look at franchises with meager fanbases that are sitting in the "sorta crappy" zone.  Here's a team you never think about... the Atlanta Falcons.  The Falcons are coming off an 8-9 season where Cousins gave them most of their juice.  They fired their coach, brought in Kevin "That's on me.  We gotta clean that up." Stefanski and quickly signed my concussion buddy Tua to augment the always injured Michael Penix at QB.  This does not fill me with confidence.  Stefanski on the surface is a good head coach with his two Coach Of The Year trophies, but I never bought in.  He had the worst against the spread record of any veteran coach, meaning that he won most of the games he was supposed to but by less points and he almost always lost the games where his team was an underdog.  On top of that, with the Falcons Stefanski is taking over a team with bad QBs that can't get the ball downfield.  Sound familiar?  He should give the ball to Robinson 400 times a game, but he won't. He'll try to win with four yard dump passes.  

The Falcons went 3-6 with Penix last year.  Nobody wanted Tua because of a suspect arm and the potential that he will die on the field with another big hit.  Where are the wins going to come from?  The NFC South is sorta shitty with all the teams being more or less equal on paper.  For them to improve on last year they need to fix their defensive line (they haven't), get better QB play (Tua looks awful and Penix isn't healthy enough to play), and hope no one else in the division has gotten better.  I think the Saints are on the rise, and the Panthers/Bucs are better than the Flacons.  They start with three 2025 Playoff teams, go on the road to New Orleans, and then Balt/Chi/SF.  At best they are looking at 2-5 unless Stefanski is better than he has been historically.  At that point, is this a team that's looking to "build for the future" to get into draft position for a QB?  No one will hold the new staff responsible for going 5-12 and getting a new potential QB in the draft.  Atlanta UNDER 7.5 wins.    

           

 

 

Explosive Diarrhea Update

 

I’m not sure how the authorities figured out that the source of the explosive diarrhea was the lettuce at Taco Bell as my experience has been that ingestion of Taco Bell in and of itself will result in explosive diarrhea.  For example, if you got in contact with any random set of regular Taco Bell customers and started to poke around their bowel movements, I think that in no time at all you’d discover that explosive diarrhea wasn’t so much an ailment but a lifestyle choice.  I remember Leo telling us in the van one time that he shits 4-5 times a day like it was the most natural thing in the world.  If you are in line at the Taco Bell drive through near my house, you likely spend your day shitting across the region.  Based on my understanding of fast food consumers buying patterns, it would have been difficult for health authorities to dial in if it was the Taco Bell, McDonalds, or Subway which was the culprit of this regional gastrointestinal distress.  Hats off to whoever figured out it was the lettuce across a regional Taco Bell distribution system.  Frankly, I’m stunned to know anything in our government works as designed these days.

I think we forget about what "normal" was in the 2010s.  The sheer incompetence of the Trump Administration is mind boggling.  This just in...  It turns out that if you get rid of all the people with experience and education in a particular area, you’ll have a big drop off in performance.  I guess most people are tuned out so aren’t that concerned that an 80 year old man surrounded by sycophants has bungled his way into a lose/lose situation in the Middle East that increasingly seems to be spiraling further out of control.  It’s also hard to figure out what is really going on over there as we have all become so conditioned to the consistent stream of lies and bullshit from the government that it requires you to seek out information from more trustworthy news resources like Al Jezeera and influencer podcasts.  All I know is we allegedly “won” the war we started but have not achieved any of the stated goals and are currently taking fire from the guys we beat and can’t move any ships.  Sweet, sweet victory.  

I also can’t figure out why the journalists all maintain procedural norms with the administration and pretend he’s not shit talking on the fly when they ask any question.  They don’t seem to understand that by legitimizing him with deference they have become part of the problem.  Instead of "The reflecting pool does not appear to have any evidence of vandalism and it is unclear what evidence the president is referring to in his social media posts", why is it not "You can't believe anything this guy says, because if he demonstrably lied about a botched repair job how could he possibly be telling the truth about ANYTHING?  Today he said X/Y/Z, which are also obviously lies.  Here's what we can confirm to be true.".  I think it would be in everyone's best interest to just stop with the pretense that the office still demands respect to the individual.  The individual in question has no policies, follows no advice, taps no information and seeks to make our reality whatever is going on in his head at any given moment.    

While Trump's approval rating is at a near historic low, it’s hard to believe that 34% of the country still approves of presidential performance.  That’s really low, but still almost 1 out of any 3 people?  Even the "well, I don't like some of the things he says, but..." crowd you's think would notice how badly this guy is fucking things up.  Still, there are less true believer cult members now.  You still see some of those creepy hillbilly shrine houses where they have flags and banners seemingly unaware of the fact that they are cheering along to a bunch of rich guys stealing their taxes, but it’s either that or college football flags for that crowd, so whatever….  I guess they need their passions.  If you are interested you can always wander onto social media to find a climate change denier or someone freaked out by the inevitable “socialist/communist” boogie man the conservatives reliably revert to in times of stress.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone that is worried about socialism actually define what it is they think will happen if someone that wants to install healthcare or affordable housing options into the community gets some authority.  I am of the opinion that a lot of people that think they are “rich” and thus a potential target of the Communist Boogieman don't understand what the definition of "rich" is.  There are a lot of dudes that own shit like jet skis and four wheelers that think they are "rich".  I’m not saying those toys are cheap, but when the kooks in the far left want to target the rich with their pitchforks, they mostly just want Bezos and Zuckerberg to pay taxes like the rest of us.  I don’t think that is a dangerous liberal idea.  I think that’s fair and equitable but goddamn are hillbillies in $60,000 houses worried about Bezos keeping a higher percentage of his earnings or what?

Ultimately most people don’t pay attention to anything unless it directly impacts themselves like being cut off in traffic or a delay in their diarrhea Taco Bell order.  As I write this, there are two women talking to each other directly behind me.  Neither one of them is really listening to the other, their conversation just a babble of noise that intersects in the brief pauses.  “You know when you’re driving from somewhere new and then RIGHT RIGHT you don’t really know for sure where you are going because I KNOW I KNOW and like I was telling my husband I KNOW RIGHT? and then WHEN YOU DON’T KNOW CAUSE IT’S LIKE A NEW he was wanting to know if I IF YOU HAD YEAH YEAH OK OK OK”.  Those two aren’t capable of grasping anything beyond what is going on directly in front of them on the surface level.  How can you move society ahead when most people are fucking morons?  This is what keeps approval ratings at 34% as opposed to 16% and makes the rest of us consider if we want to roll the dice on having a salad to eat.  I like salads.  I don't like explosive diarrhea.  Damn, did the United States fuck itself up.  We are all stuck in this car with an 80 year old dementia patient at the wheel that didn't know how to drive when he was at his best.  Meanwhile, one out of three people in the car are like "You're doing great!" as they scroll Tik Tok dances on their phone having no idea we're speeding into a wall.  It's not great.

That's why I'm focusing on NFL win totals.  There are things we can all agree on there, like the Arizona Cardinals aren't going to be very good.  They are sitting at 500-1 to win the Super Bowl, so expectations are very, very low.  When their win total was released it was at 4.5 wins.  That was immediately bet down to 3.5 wins.  That's rarified air.  Anytime you can look at a 4-13 ticket for a winner you need to give it a glance.  The NFL has razor thin margins between being "average" and "bad".  Each one of these teams is a couple key injuries or cluster injuries at a position away from being terrible.  Add into that mix that each team every season has one of those "I can't believe the (team) won last week over the (clearly superior team) on Sunday.  However, it's hard to build up much confidence in the Cardinals to hit that over.

One of my first considerations in betting an over total is "good QB/good coach".  If a team has both of those in place, they are generally a winning team.  The only teams last year that had that combination but had a losing record were the Ravens at 8-9 (but Lamar missed 4 games, and are we positive John Harbaugh is still a "good" coach?) and the Chiefs at 6-8 (Mahomes missed 3 games).  The Cardinals are rolling into 2026 with Jacoby Brissett and Gardiner Minshew.  At some point they will toss rookie Carson Beck out there to solidify our expectations of him being a shitty QB.  Their coach is first year NFL head coach Mike Lafleur, one of those guys that was an OC under Sean McVeigh so thus has all McVeigh's success attached to him much like past examples of this concept at work like Josh McDaniels.  His brother is Matt Lafleur, again cementing that he HAS TO BE good.  This gives me concern.

The Cardinals schedule in the first half is, shall we say, challenging.  @Chargers/Seattle/@SF/@NY Giants/Lions/@Rams/Broncos/@Dallas/@Seattle/Rams/@Kansas City and that takes you to Thanksgiving.  Looking at that, you have to think they have that Giants game circled.  Maybe Kansas City has a longer rebuild than expected?  I will give them a win in there somewhere.  I just don't know where.  Best case scenario they are what?  2-10?  Now they have to find two wins in the stretch run of Washington/Philly/Jets/@Saints/Raiders/SF.  For me, I'm thinking, "Can they beat the Jets and Raiders at home in December as the Jets try to tank for a pick and the Raiders listlessly wrap up the year on the road?".  

I don't know.

I see this as an automatic play at Over 3, but the books will hesitate to go there on it despite all the negative juice already on the under 3.5.  Last year the Jets/Titans/Raiders went 3-14, so the league seems to have embraced tanking for the draft.  Browns and Titans only won 3 two years ago, but winning 3 games or less is very rare in this ultra competitive league.  The case for the Cardinals winning 4 games+ becomes the only side under consideration.  Let's try to make the argument...

*  The team needed improvement in the line, so they drafted a stud guard in the second round and signed two apparently competent free agents.  This should make their offensive line somewhere in the 16-22 range in the league.  Not great, but not a total disaster like in Cleveland, Tennessee or Houston.  You can win four games with a line like that.   The Cardinals have drafted a bunch of exciting skill position players and put nothing into the line.  You know who else does that?  The Raiders and Falcons.  Uh-oh. 

*  Jacoby Brissett isn't great, but he keeps you in games.  He's thrown 3 times the number of TDs than INTs, so he's good at keeping the team hanging around in games where a turnover can change the outcome.  The problem is Arizona doesn't have a great turnover differential.  Brissett played really well for a stretch in Arizona last year but when you looked at the end of the game, they still lost.  Dude went 1-11 as a starter last year.  Is Carson Beck going to be better?  Probably not, but they will need to find out.  If you think Beck will be an improvement over Brissett, you gotta consider the over 3.5 wins.

*  The Arizona defense was 28th against the pass and 27th against the run in 2025.  Will they be better?  Ummm... I guess they could be?  It seems like they will improve statistically as they will be consistently behind trying to stop short passes and runs up the gut designed to keep the clock running against them.  They aren't winning many games for the team though.  "Boy, did the Cardinals shut down the Rams" is not something I expect to type.  

Gun to head, I'd take the over on this at plus juice.  I think they get a couple weird wins before Thanksgiving.  A win over SF (who I think is going to be feast or famine), the annual insane NFL upset win over somebody crazy, and then find two wins from the Giants/Washington/Jets/Raiders mix.  The variables are if Beck can somehow give you improved QB play, Lafleur really IS a good coach, and the line is good enough to give Jeremiyah Love some opportunities.            

The Explosive Diarrhea Situation

 

It has been an intentionally quiet summer.  I found myself at the end of the long study period of the MW exam not tired like one would be after extended exercise but more exhausted like one would be after conducting a continuous task like assembly line work.  I am filled with an unmoored tiredness that has left me without drive or ambition, something that I find unusual as I have spent seemingly the last 40 years or so engaged in a race to complete ambiguous deadlines that are almost solely creations of my own mind.  Thus, not only haven't I been writing much but I haven't been filled with the need to write like I have been in the past.  

A few things have been on my mind though.  For one, it is the outbreak of cases of "explosive diarrhea".  Every once in awhile we have had these outbreaks in our industrial food chain.  They are almost always from some leafy vegetable where some agricultural outfit has sprayed fecal filled water all over some crop and infected a kazillion people.  It seems like this outbreak took longer to nail down than most of them.  I don't know if this is because of the demonstrable incompetence and zealous destruction of institutional safety from the monsters in the Trump Administration or if that's just the perception created by the unchecked monsters in the tech industry that have weaseled their way into our brains.  Regardless, what I find interesting is that every single news related report on the subject uses the term "explosive diarrhea".  

"Explosive diarrhea" is a VERY descriptive term which I take to mean a frightening  and violent expulsion of liquidy shit from the body that is awe inspiring in both speed leaving the body and massive force behind it.  I think of a giant industrial can of Dinty Moore Beef Stew which has been carbonated with 6 bars of pressure, almost like that of a Coca-Cola which has a handful of Mentos dropped into it, and then shot out of the afflicted person's ass with almost no warning whatsoever.  I find it very unusual that all news sources just continue to run with "explosive diarrhea" in all headlines as if it was a way to somehow point out how significant this episode of diarrhea is, well above what could be called "violent diarrhea" for example (which I have never seen used as a description).  "Explosive" diarrhea suggests to me an episode well beyond any diarrhea that the afflicted has ever experienced, something so powerful that we as a society feel the need to categorize it almost like a hurricane or tornado with a word to offer gradation.   

Krusty told me that a local TV news affiliate in Vegas began to use the word "profound" in association with the diarrhea outbreak, but I think this is a completely different type of diarrhea.  The word "profound" suggests something noteworthy in its event but having a serious and even life changing impact on the afflicted person.  A "profound diarrhea" might be something which would leave the person with a lasting impression that created the need to have extended reflection on the event, something almost religious or sacred in the way it had occurred.  A "profound" episode of diarrhea to me is a stand alone event, something so special that it would be always remembered to the person which had it, perhaps even remembering the day like one would the birth of a child or death of a loved one.  "Yes, it was a Thursday in July.  I remember it well fore it changed me completely.  The diarrhea was so profound that I found myself weeping afterwards, unable to reassemble meaning from what I thought life itself was or could be and I struggled to face myself in a mirror for fear of what I might see in that reflection."   

An "explosive diarrhea" is something which has many individual incidents, bowel movements so powerful and forceful that anyone in the immediate vicinity is aware of what has happened and feels the need to check on the person impacted.  Someone with explosive diarrhea might hear a pensive knock on the bathroom door as the episode is drawing to a conclusion with a shaky voice asking, "Is everything OK in there?'.  In the case of explosive diarrhea, this would only be a calm before the next storm where yet another violent and massive outburst would soon strike with little warning leaving the person in the toilet no other option but to try and ride it out like they were on an untamable bronco or steer.  Meanwhile, someone with "profound diarrhea" would emerge from that bathroom with wisdom to impart.  It's clearly two distinct different conditions.  I'd like to see more accurate reporting on the specifics of this experience on the victims.   

The other thing on my mind are these electric scooters that are the biggest fad for kids right now.  My community is filled to the brim with little stick figure 8-year-olds with helmets awkwardly flying around roadways on scooters.  I know I am going to run over one of these kids.  It's not a question of "if" but "when".  Thanks to my overzealous local police force, I can't go faster than 25 mph on the main road which approaches my neighborhood.  I will consistently be overtaken on the right by some kid that weighs about 55 pounds looking blankly at me as he cuts across my sightline.  Look, I am going to feel bad about it when I hear the crunch of the tires on his helmet like a walnut opening, but it won't be my fault.  Well, legally I guess it will, but no one expects to get passed on the right by a fucking kid on a scooter.  The outcry for hanging my pelt on the flagpole by City Hall will be deafening.  I will likely have to hole up in my house with a small garrison of semi automatic weapons I order from Amazon and homemade molatov cocktails.  I'll burn through most of my money with an army of defense lawyers that will somehow wrestle an unsatisfying outcome that keeps me out of prison.  I'll have to move as I won't be able to walk my dogs next to the crash site with the little wreath emblazoned with "Tristan" or "Dylan" on it without people hissing when I walk past "It's HIM!".  The whole situation makes me anxious.

I know those kids are on borrowed time.  Here in the suburbs there are two main factions which are heading towards a massive collision.  Faction #1 is the "safety faction".  These are the people that are pretending to be very concerned about the safety of the kids.  Their top priority is removing these scooters from these kids, or creating a network of rules that would castrate any potential fun that the kids can have on the scooters by requiring them to only be ridden in a tiny park between the hours of 3p-5p within a fenced in bland "park" of blacktop.  They don't really care about the kids.  They are mostly concerned about these kids having demonstrable fun that has no adult oversight which is casting a shadow onto their own drab lives.  They aren't trying to protect the kids.  They want to close that loophole that is allowing the kids to have this public fun right in front of their faces.

Faction #2 is the powerful parental groups that look upon their child rearing years as a way to create the perfect childhood that they themselves did not achieve.  They are attempting to create some sort of Utopian childhood where every whim, toy and experience is available to the child without even asking.  These are the parents that want to pour tax dollars into school drama, sports complexes, and skateboard parks as opposed to fixing potholes or snow removal equipment.  They understand their children's contentment to be the entire community's focus and anyone that even suggests that their kids should not have any resource which aids in their temporary happiness to be some sort of monster.  These are the parents that happily buy electric scooters that can hit 40 mph and hand them over to a 10 year old.  "I wish my Dad would have bought me one of those when I was ten!  Goddamn am I a good parent!".  

Meanwhile I'm out here just trying to steer to the back of my cul-de-sac without running over one of these motherfuckers that dart out between parked monster SUVs like caffeinated squirrels.  I don't really care if the kid has the thing or not, but I think if Faction #2 (the "good" parents) can write off any unintended manslaughter or vehicular homicide charge I might rack up, I'll toss my lot behind them.  However, if I even catch a whiff of "you need to be more careful because the road belongs to Devin's scooter", then I might have to throw my allegiance behind the grumbling Faction #1.  This is perhaps the biggest political storm brewing out here which seems odd as I write this from an orange hellscape of wildfire smoke, heat waves, and explosive diarrhea.  If I become stricken with a case of "profound diarrhea" I will probably know what to do, but for now I'm at a real loss.    

    

It's Semiquincentennial Time!

 

When I was a kid, we went to visit my father's side of the family in NYC over the 4th of July weekend in 1976.  It was the Bicentennial, a huge national celebration.  I remember the Tall Ships were in the harbor, a very hyped parade of old style schooners that actually was impressive in person.  I remember it being hot in New York, that smell of asphalt, hot dogs and faint whiff of urine that is distinctly NYC.  All the stores had red, white, and blue banners and Bicentennial sales events regardless of how illogical the connection was between crap like shag carpeting and American Independence.  Everybody wanted in on it.  "Come on in to Volk's AMC Autoworld where for $17.76 down you can drive a new AMC Hornet today!"  I was a kid, so it sorta seemed like a second Christmas with all the decorations and expectations of fireworks ramped up for the special year.

This 250th celebration is a little hard to get jacked up about.  In 1976, the country was still recovering from tough economic times and the turbulence of the 1960s.  There did seem to be an uneasy unity though, sort of an idea of we were going to at least TRY to make it better for all of us.  Hey, we all have our own points of view, but we are all Americans and we are proud of our country.  I mean, I'm sure that there were still radicals trying to keep The Weathermen going that wanted to bring total anarchy, but for the most part it was Captain & Tennille, KISS, mood rings and shag haircuts.  When I think of 1976, I think of smells like sun baked pleather auto seats, old cigarette smoke soaked into rooms, industrial cleaning products, and Old Spice.  It was probably a simpler time, but we all had a basic understanding of right/wrong and a basic system of shared values.

I look at this Trump shanghai of the 250th thing, and I don't see any sense that I'm invited to this party.  Now it's important to note that I'm also not interested in hanging out with Grift Dorks, Techno Fascists, sexually repressed Trad Moms, ass kissing sycophants, religious deviants, monster truck drivers or opportunistic social media influencers either, so that's a match.  However it's a shame that we can't move past this divisive old man that has poisoned our culture so pervasively.  These are not my people.  Is there anyone running the country right now that you think, "I'd like to hang out with them?".  It's all people you make that "ugh" noise when you see them.  It might not be so bad if they showed a shred of competence, but fucking A...  These guys turn everything they touch into dogshit.  I guess if you are in on the grift, then it's a Golden Age.  Well, assuming there are no televised trials after forensic accounting has taken place...  

It just sucks that we can't have the idea of "America" back where a quarter of the population isn't propaganda fueled white nationalist hillbilly monsters.  Why the hell are those dipshits dictating what "America" is?  I get a douche chill every time I see our flag waving now.  Let's get back to what made 4th of July weekends great.  It would be nice to feel good about tossing some firecrackers under your grandma's lawn chair or tossing back a couple 16oz Stroh's without wondering if you had to get involved into a debate about what is or not reality.  (Spoiler alert, the USA lost a war to Iran and we sent JD Vance and two real estate guys to try and handle negotiations on an out clause while the Corrupt Clown King worries about his $400M ballroom and deflecting blame on that reflecting pool fiasco his cartoon villain buddy fucked up.  Regardless of what Fox News or your algorithm says, that's what happened this month.). It really just sucks to worry about being mistaken for a member of the developmentally challenged Freigemeinschaft von Mar-a-Lago if you even stand close to a flag.  It's hard to get excited about "America" when you don't feel connected to the place beyond previously shared ideals and faded family photos.  That shitty party the Trump dorks are throwing isn't something I was invited to or want to attend.  Fuck those guys.  I'm out.  I'll probably hoist my St. Pauli FC flag instead.  There's a better sense of community and inclusion there.

The good news is we are at the half way point of the MLB season and Pittsburgh is still a game above .500.  I'm going to need them to go 34-47 the rest of the way.  I feel VERY good about that, though I had hoped to see them slip into the playoffs and that seems like a longshot.  My "Giants more wins than Cleveland" bet is a catastrophe as SF might totally clean house over there.  Devers is a bust, the manager looks like a big mistake, and "the plan" isn't working.  Cleveland is up 9 games, and even if they continue to slide, it doesn't look like the Giants could catch them.  That's going to be a loser.  The other small bet was on the Rockies to win over 52 games.  They're at 32 right now, so I just need 21 more wins.  That looks VERY good.  Overall, besides the continued spiral of the country, the summer is going pretty well.  It's all about World Cup for the next few weeks.  Sending good vibes to the US team, but I'm all in on Les Bleus as soon as the States gets eliminated.          

Life Update, MLB Wagers Update

 

I haven't had to go into a corporate office for about a year and a half.  This is perhaps the greatest single area of improvement I could have added in my lifestyle.  When you step away from a corporate gig, your relationship with the odd and somewhat damaged people that make up that environment becomes severed at that moment.  There is an instant adjustment where they move from major protagonists to irrelevant.  People that have power over you only because of a set of random circumstances suddenly become totally neutered.  That regional manager that occupied your thoughts creating anxiety with consistent chaotic abusive behavior is suddenly revealed to be just another chunky Mom from the 'burbs.  Right now that dull looking woman unloading a basket of plastic cooking implements at Target is someone's Hitler at a logistics company you've never heard of buried in an office park.  It's remarkable the outsized importance some of these villains have in your day-to-day drama considering how generally unremarkable they are as a whole.  If the workforce at my old job went down in a plane onto a deserted island, it would have taken about fourteen seconds for lower level employees to have gone full "Lord Of The Flies" and made most of the managerial class our slaves.  And we would have been right in doing so.  The skill set of "deferential ass kissing compliance" is not very helpful in boar hunting or shelter building.

I don't come in contact with these Corporate Beings now unless I am at a sporting event or the airport.  There is something patently ridiculous about watching men peacock around talking loudly into space to their phone mic setup about matters they consider to be great importance.  "Look, I told Phil we were going to have to move the goal posts on that initiative."  The outsized confidence and importance of being the Mid Atlantic Regional Sales Manager of TXR Inc engaged in the epic struggle of hitting deliverables to activate Q2 escalators is a real drug to these guys.  When I was in New York walking around a couple of weeks ago, it became a contest to see who was more ridiculous, the "finance Bro in action vest, stretch golf khakis and white rubber soled hybrid shoe" or "imperious yet alluring woman hiding behind designer sunglasses gliding along pretending not to notice anyone while holding her expensive coffee drink".  Pro tip:  These people aren't really doing anything but they just don't know it.  They are their own lead role in the "Wolf Of Wall Street" or "Devil Wears Prada" episode they picture themselves in.  You are a non-player character just passing through.  Fair enough.

I ran into someone I used to sell shit to in a parking lot.  They asked me what I was doing.  "Nuthin." I replied hoping to not have to try to explain what a Master of Wine was or outlining the health travails of various Whiskey Daredevils.  Luckily, like most people, he doesn't have the capacity to listen to anyone else and only wanted a jump off point to wax on about his own life.  He spent about five minutes outlining his current job, which had something to do with selling digital ads to third parties via some shifty ass platform but used so much jargon it was impossible to penetrate what it was he actually did.  I think all this jargon is used to help justify the fact that most of our lives are incredibly small and insignificant. Engaging in jargon helps to buoy up people's spirits.  Saying "I'm working with breakthrough new technology that is linking buyers and sellers across multi platform access points while scaling up real time reporting to provide instant optimization" makes a person feel a lot more important than saying "I sell ads on phones".  I had to wade through so much shit with this fucking guy that I finally just asked, "Are what you telling me is that you sell ads on people's phones?".  He finally, somewhat crestfallen, admitted "Yes".  Hey, we all have bills to pay, but I'm not one of your marks.  Save me the propaganda.  

We left the parking lot after an empty promise to "get together for lunch sometime".  I know this will never happen as I have no immediate benefit to this guy and since I got out of that game we don't really have any common points of interest besides the safety net of the NFL and perhaps a few moments of Guardians talk.  I can't imagine I could engage him in discussing the excellent Karl Ove Knausgaard novel I just finished ("The Morning Star") as the heavy themes of good/evil and the implications or lack thereof in potential post death events to the individual.  He's got optimization to do and I don't.  Side note, I had this idea while finishing the Knausgaard novel where he tackles the idea of a dreamlike post death waiting area for reassignment to a murky next destination (which might actually be a time loop of the current scenario... it's all unclear).  The thought hit me that it would be an incredible drag to find out that when you pass away you arrive at a version of a large international airport. Imagine you are trying to figure out the system and potential desirable outcomes as you fight the chaos and crowds, and then some dopey security guard type person waves you into a roped line in which you randomly get reassigned to get sent back to earth as a caterpillar or something.  Meanwhile if you had only been waved randomly to Line 3, you'd return as a tech billionaire or member of The Strokes.  See what these novels do to you?

I'm getting ready to start on the second of the novel series "The Wolves of Eternity".  It's a very dense novel about a half brother leaving Chernobyl after the reactor blew. It spans from Chernobyl to modern Russia and is somehow connected to the last book.  I have no idea how he's going to do it.  The Morning Star is about a new star, like a distant sun, that suddenly appears in the Norwegian sky and people's engagement (or lack thereof) with a sudden changing environment.  It's translated from Norwegian, so there's a strange foreign feeling imparted across 800 pages of small text.  I'll get back to you on the second in the novel cycle soon.  I gotta get this MW exam in my rearview.  You should read "The Morning Star" in the meantime though.  Seriously.  Knausgaard is the real deal.

Anyway, as I drove away from the car park (my annoying seeped in UK slang kicking in) I thought about what was really important...  What's going on with my season long MLB wagers.  First of all, the Pirates are looking pretty good.  The Pirates are 23-19.  I just need 75 wins total, so that means they just have to go 52-68 or better the rest of the season for me to win.  I like how that is looking.  Their starting pitching has been good, the 8th best in MLB.  Shockingly, it's their offense which has been REALLY good, the 5th best in MLB.  This result is so much more satisfying than researching a stock price I can't tell you.  This has come together exactly as I have foreseen.  This is easily my biggest wager of the season.

Meanwhile, I am also on the Colorado Rockies to win more than 52 games.  That Rockies team is shitty, but to be below 52 games, you have to be historically bad.  The last part of the 2025 season, Colorado had become "normal shitty" instead of "historically shitty", so I liked this bet.  I made it knowing full well I would likely never bet on the team on a regular season game to win, or more accurately, never watch them play a single game during the season.  So far, so good.  I haven't watched an inning.  They are 16-26 with (as expected) the worst pitching in baseball.  That's a 62 win pace.  We are talking about them looking "sorta shitty" but let's be realistic.  The bottom could fall out at any time with these guys.  I will have to keep my eye on this one.

I am in real trouble on this "Giants win more than Guardians" bet.  I thought the Giants big money infield would spark an offense to offset a dodgy ass pitching staff.  Instead what I've gotten there has been an ice cold set of infielders but still managing to be the 11th best hitting team overall but with no power whatsoever.  They are dead last in runs.  Ouch.  Compare with the Guardians who are once again looking to be outperforming what they should be on paper with top 10 pitching, limp dick offense, and seemingly playing the Royals, Twins and Angels every series.  Right now the Guardians are up five games on the Giants, but the Giants big money infield guys started to hit last week, so maybe this will turn.  The Guardians could win the Central again, not because they are a juggernaut, but because no one else is that good either.  Seriously, the White Sox are 1.5 games back and they have as good a chance as the Tigers to win the Central.  I have my concerns here...  Still, if the Giants bats return to be just slightly below average, this one can get interesting.  Or they could blow the whole thing up.  Either.

Go Giants.

         

Fried Chicken Policy

 

A question was raised by Bobby Lanphier regarding what was the best fast food chicken quality in the USA, with a follow up question about why we never ate fried chicken in the van in all those years of driving around.  First, let’s tackle the question of fast food chicken…. I have no idea.  The last time I had fast food chicken I think I was getting tires changed at an NTB that was next door to a KFC in 2021.  You know, you see enough of those KFC ads and eventually you’re thinking “Goddamn, that looks pretty good.”  The downside is about 20 minutes later you’re driving away on those new tires with a gutful of KFC  thinking “I don’t feel so good.”.    

I have never had Popeye’s, Church’s and haven’t had a brush with Mr. Chicken since the early 1990s.  I cannot speak to the quality of any of these franchises and I am going to speculate that my health care professional team will not be in favor of me going on some sort of hedonistic fried chicken adventure anytime soon.    Bob feels rather strongly that Popeye’s has a surprisingly good quality piece of chicken, and who am I to question his recent experience?  Prior to his coupling with a responsible adult vegetarian, Bob knew his way around a good convenience food.  There is some experience there.  But is it the best?  I’ll never know.

This brings up the more salient point in our discussion regarding the Whiskey Daredevils aversion to eating fried chicken in the van.  To me, it’s an easy answer.  Fried chicken is greasy.  The last thing anyone wants is a greasy steering wheel, or a glistening dashboard, windshield smeared with foggy residue.  When I am looking at Bob and Leo, I am not seeing a couple of guys that would have engaged in long term planning for minimizing potential grease disaster.  These are guys more “in the moment” of their takeout meal.  Leo and my basset Marvin are synonymous for impulse based behaviors determining if they are going to eat a piece of fried chicken in the van.  But, let’s get past the initial meal itself…    

The other big concern would be maintaining a long term commitment to chicken bone removal.  You know what happens if you don’t get those chicken bones out of the van promptly?  You get mice.  You know what happens when you get mice?  You get snakes.  You want snakes in your van?  I sure as hell don’t.  Who wants to be on 71 outside of Covington with a fucking milk snake slithering past your foot at 730am?  Not me my friend!  Next thing you know you need to wait for a cold spell so the snakes become dormant as you’re taking apart the entire interior looking for snake holes.  That’s no way to live.  A van is chock full of nooks and crannies absolutely ideal for a snake to hole up in.  To keep out the snakes, you got to keep out the mice, which means no fried chicken in the van.  This has been a long term policy for a reason.

What a lot of people don’t know is this fried chicken issue is why many of rock music’s most beloved bands broke up.  Why did Zeppelin break up and the Moody Blues are probably playing a shed out there right now?  Fried chicken.  It’s well known that John Bonham and John Paul Jones would tuck into an 8 piece box at any opportunity, while Plant (a known picky eater) and Page would argue with the rhythm section at length about chicken bones laying around in Zeppelin’s buses and later planes.  What people don’t know is Zeppelin had to back out of an early Isle of Wight Festival due to Jimmy Page getting a nasty snake bite on his strumming wrist.  Unable to fully resolve this dispute, the band later broke up (with Bonham’s death allegedly also a contributing factor).  Meanwhile, The Moody Blues committed early on to a “No Fried Chicken” policy for their tour vehicles and enjoyed a career that continues to this day.  Say what you will about guitarist John Lodge, but he’s never been bitten by a snake on tour.  Look it up.

I can go on and on about various bands and their fried chicken policies.  The Beatles, as evidenced by their “Let It Be” documentary, had numerous fights about fried chicken in the studio leading Harrison (a known chicken afficionado) to become so despondent about his lack of fried chicken accessibility in the studio that eventually he lost all interest in contributing to the record.  Many people confirm that the main reason the Beatles ceased as a touring band was their inability to agree on a fried chicken policy in the van.  Harrison and Starr’s post Beatles positive relationship was largely built on their mutual love of Popeye’s Chicken.  Again, look it up.  It’s all there.

Southern Culture On The Skids, long time users of chicken as stagecraft, have a firm anti chicken policy in the van.  After searching the internet and making direct inquiries, I can report there is no evidence of Mary Huff ever being bitten by a snake in their van.  As a result, they continue to perform to engaged fans across the country.  If you look at most of the longest living bands, the one key component is a lack of snakes in their vehicles which can be directly traced back to their decision to eliminate fried chicken in the van.  While Bobby might be upset about his lack of knowledge regarding the pecking order of American chain fried chicken quality, I stand by the decision made around the turn of the century as being one of the cornerstones that keeps the Whiskey Daredevils a living breathing entity on the musical landscape in the rich tradition of chicken moderates like The Moody Blues.        

The Home Opener

 

I was eight years old when my family moved to Erie PA.  We moved into a stereotypical suburban neighborhood with houses packed with kids perched on flat green backyards which served as ideal baseball and football fields.  I had moved from Philadelphia and thus was born into the level of passionate support of that city's teams that only an 8 year old can possess.  I can remember listening to Phillies games on a little transistor radio in my garage in Philly as a six year old to give light to what a sick little bastard I was at that time.  There weren't many six year olds that were jacked up about the Phillies trading for second baseman Dave Cash, but I was in deep.  I still remember going to my first MLB game, a 2-0 Phillies win in the old Veterans Stadium.   Box score

In my new neighborhood was a kid named Paul that was in my grade.  He lived two houses over from me.  As passionate as I was about the Phillies was about 1/8th the level of support Paul had for the Pirates.  I cannot picture what the top of Paul's head looked like because he ALWAYS had on one of those pillbox Pirates hats.  He could have been bald as far as I know.  It's a good bet that some teenage girl has a memory of losing her virginity to a pale skinny kid from Erie that was completely nude except for his Pirates hat.  I'm telling you, that hat was as much a part of his identity as Slash's top hat is to his.  

In the mid 1970s the Phillies and Pirates were heated rivals in the NL East, one of two divisions.  Both teams were really good with the Phillies being slightly better and winning the East in 1976/77/78.  The Pirates won it all in their magical 1979 season, a horrible occurrence in my childhood that can be measured in the same scale as the death of a grandparent or family pet.  The importance of each Pirates v Phillies game in the world of 9-12 year olds cannot be understated.  The wait at the bus stop and tone of the day would be determined by the outcome of 18 guys that had played baseball somewhere in Pennsylvania the previous evening.  If your team lost, you would find yourself eating shit all day.  I don't think guys like Jay Johnstone and Del Unser understood exactly how important their late inning pinch hit at-bats were in the scope of my life.

People who didn't grow up during this time also have no idea how scarce sports information was to come by.  There was no ESPN.  There were two ways to get the MLB scores.  You could somehow stay up until 11:25 pm to get the score on the local newscast or you had to wait for the Erie Daily Times to arrive at the end of the driveway to get the box score.  It was possible to watch baseball games three ways.  1.  You could see the Pirates and whoever they played on WSEE-TV, the CBS affiliate that pre-empted summer re-runs for Pirates games.  2.  The two network MLB games a week, one which was on Saturday afternoon on the NBC station and the other on Monday night as ABC tried to cash in on their success with Monday Night Football.  3.  Go to a game.  Pittsburgh was two hours away, so those games might as well have been in Egypt.  

Despite being a big baseball fan in this period, there were teams and players I would NEVER see.  As the Pirates network only showed National League teams (this being before interleague play), a team would have to be noteworthy enough to get on one of the two network broadcasts for me to even have the potential to see them.  Thus, I never saw teams like the Twins, White Sox, Angels, Tigers, Brewers and Rangers until the 1990s.  This basically made baseball a sport that distilled down to about eight teams, fairly easy to get a handle on.  The depth of knowledge I have about late 1970s-early 1980s NL East utility infielders and backline starting pitching even now is baffling.  I can still see Tim Foli's stupid wire rimmed glasses in my mind.

There is nothing like the anxiety of being nine years old eating his morning Pop-Tart opening the paper thin sports section to see the result of a Pirates v Phillies game.  The immediate lift of seeing a Phillies victory, hopefully decisive, and knowing it was going to be a good morning at the bus stop is a high you never quite reach later in life.  "Hey Paul... I didn't get a chance to see the sports page this morning.  Any idea who won the Pirates v Phillies game last night?".  This would almost immediately be countered with a wave of the hand and an obscure stat tossed out to argue of the Pirates superiority over the Phillies.  Thus, the morning arguing would commence.  Ah, it was a golden time.

As Cleveland prepares for Opening Day today I have no intention of going.  Those bastard parking lot owners will have jacked up lot prices to San Francisco price levels of $75, the stadium will be filled with super drunk corporate types that snaked tickets from the company, and absolutely no one will be paying attention to the game except cranky fucks like me.  Let's also be honest, my relationship with my hometown team is "casual" at best, and ever since the Cubs finally won a World Series their fans are only slightly less annoying than Red Sox fans.  My eye will instead be on my surrogate teams of 2026, the SF Giants and oddly enough, the Pirates.  Go Bucs.