Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Nurse the Hate: Hate the Protest

I looked up at the TV bolted to the wall above my head.  A scraggly collection of protesters marched across a main roadway that serves as a key point in and out of Cleveland.  They had decided to protest by dubiously linking a recent tragic shooting of a 12 year old boy locally by police with the snowball out of control situation in Ferguson.   The protesters were predominantly young adults, clearly excited about the media event they were creating.  Nothing gets the blood racing faster for an upper middle class suburban college kid than playing rabble rouser for social justice.  Like their parents before them, they are dabbling in far left liberalism before the world beats them back to their comfortable and predictable suburban enclaves.  But for today, a triumph!

I looked up at the TV and immediately got pissed off.  Not because I disagreed with the protest necessarily, but more for the upcoming disruption of my evening commute.  It dawned on me immediately that I had become one of those cranky crew cut union guys that are always shown on documentaries on 1960s protests.  Really, all I needed to do was grumble about how “those hippies needed to shave off their beards and get a goddamn job”.  I have totally abandoned all expectations of being able to alter society and now am most interested in limiting my own personal inconveniences.  “Yes, it is a damn shame that the young boy was shot in the face, but do we really need to stop traffic?  I had expected to get home in time for World News Tonight and a nice glass of Cote du Nuits.  The police simply must do something.”

It is an odd moment when the light shines down on you and the realization hits that you are part of “the problem” and not “the solution”.  I have lost all will to fight an idealistic fight.  I also have no faith in the ability for the group I saw on TV to effect change.  The key to taking part in a protest like that is to completely embrace the world as a place without gray areas.  I lost that ability years ago.  Anyone that has spent even a few minutes in the real world understands that not all police are assholes and it is not a systematic policy to brutalize any specific group of citizens.  Only a group of college kids can be so naïve to forget that the reason that the cops are so hardcore in these areas is that some real scary shitbags live there that only understand brute force.  Are there officers that go crazy and act like goons?  Hell yeah.  I don’t agree with that, but I understand it.  I don’t have to worry about someone shooting me when I show up at a gig (although I have provided some performances that may have merited a shooting afterwards).  If I did, I’d be pretty trigger happy too.  Hey, it sucks, but that’s the way it is.  I have no idea how to fix it, and neither do you.

After I got over the initial crankiness of the traffic fiasco, I watched the police watch the protesters who watched the police.  About 75 protesters were being recorded by 75 members of the media.   I was especially taken by a young man with a beard, army fatigue jacket, and a bullhorn that was making sure he was in every TV shot.  I think he had a big night ahead of him back at his college housing where the participants would breathlessly recap what had happened to each other just like they had a few years earlier after an incident at a high school dance.  “Jeremy!  You were so brave when that cop waved his baton at you!”  Jeremy moves in close to the wide eyed Kayla, who is seeing “the real Jeremy” for the first time.  “Maybe you should come back with me to my room to look at the fliers I have been designing.  We are going to pass them out at the Quad tomorrow.  We have A LOT OF WORK LEFT TO DO…”  Kayla, caught up in the sheer weight of the event earlier this afternoon quietly disappears with Jeremy back to his room for a “strategy session”.  A star has been born. 

In a couple of days everything will go back to the way it has been.  That’s the way it has always gone.  Maybe I am just being cynical and the riots in the Summer of ‘68 solved everything.  Or maybe the Rodney King riots fixed the dissatisfaction with the LAPD.  I don’t really remember.  What I can guarantee is that these particular demonstrations will go away.  Winter is on the way, and people can only stay fired up for so long.  “Hey man, I know that the cops are pigs and everything, but it’s 22 degrees out there.  I totally forgot my gloves.  I mean, I’m down with the cause and all.  Maybe we should send out a really strongly worded email instead?”

Hopefully the police stop killing people, and people stop doing things that make police come flying towards them with guns in the first place.  I want the people I love and care for to be safe.  For now I am relegating myself to join the massive herd that is watching all this on television like a new reality show, and reading all the fiery rhetoric from so called civic leaders on both sides of the fence.  It is great that we live in a country where a protest can be held.  However, don’t fuck with my commute…  Goddamn hippies…         

P.S.  I just saw the video released in the Cleveland shooting.  That's not exactly the way the police described it, is it?  Damn.  Now I have to go join a protest and screw up someone's commute... 

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Nurse the Hate: Hate the NFL 2014 Week 12

There is too much noise in the world now.  Everyone has a voice.  Even me.  All of us are shouting to be heard.  The nonsensical din is a roar of a jet engine with only the wildest “what the fuck did you say?” comment cutting through.  Then when others notice that the wild comment got attention, leap on it themselves to hope some of the light will shine on them as well.  Suddenly, an idea that was crazy gains traction and is considered to be public opinion.  Thus is the Robert Griffin the Third story…

RG3 was created to sell sugar water and sneakers.  He was a great college QB that played in a glorified flag football conference, went to a major East Coast Media Center, and had immediate success.  He is the bastion of a New Age.  The line in the sand.  The After.  All teams must now have a running QB if they ever hope to compete.  The pocket passer is dead.  All hail RG3.

That seems like a long time ago.

Griffin has proven that if you are a small guy that is going to get hit in awkward positions while trying to throw the football you are going to get hurt.  A lot.  Making matters worse is that Griffin, like any normal dude in his twenties, believes what everyone kissing his ass has been writing about him and whispering in his ear.  He now appears to think that the way he needs to carry himself is in the same manner as LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, or any other of those Hall of Fame level athletes that speak about themselves in a wearied third party sense.  “Yes, Robert has the QB position covered and I will do my best to carry these mere mortals to the goal, but as I have long known and you are just now realizing, I am but one man.  Let us speak now of the labors ahead of us.”

This does not play well with your associates when you haven’t actually done anything.  A Gatorade commercial does not a Pro Bowl QB make.  That scene in Washington appears to be about as chaotic as any team to come along in years.  I’m not even sure what they do to try and fix it.  All I do know is that the San Francisco 49ers are really lucky to be playing the Redskins this week.  They are going to kick the living fuck out of those guys.  I have some concerns about San Francisco’s inability to score touchdowns while in the Red Zone.  9.5 is about as big of a spread as will be seen this season.  I also have some concerns about jumping on such a heavy favorite that the public loves like the 49ers, but I’m doing it.  I am also already regretting it.  There is no way in hell that Washington wins.  Can San Fran get in the end zone?  I think so.  I hope so.  SF -9.5. 

This week is a very big game for the Cleveland Browns.  The Atlanta Falcons are somehow even worse than their 4-6 record would indicate.  This is the type of game that a better team takes over and does whatever required to crank out a win, fly home, and sexually assault cocktail waitresses in downtown nightclubs upon their triumphant return.  The Cleveland Browns would do just that… If the team that takes the field Sunday had any of the guys on it that took them to 6-3.   

The Browns are about as banged up as any team in the league.  There is an off chance that I might be starting on the line somewhere this week, which is very bad news for Brian Hoyer and the running backs.  I am brittle and weak.  The complete defensive interior is out for this game.  The Browns starting center and middle linebacker are out for the season.  The Browns team that beat the crap out of Pittsburgh is a totally different collection of fellas than the ones that will be wearing those ugly uniforms this week.  Meanwhile, the return of Josh Gordon is getting all the press.  The Rubes will be shoveling money out of their wallets as quickly as possible to get on the Browns with the three points. This is a terrible error in judgement.  Last week the Texans shoved the Browns around like children.  I have no idea why that would change this week on the road in a dome.  This season I have not bet on a Browns game as I never felt any sort of strong sense of what version of the Browns would take the field.  This week I do.  They are in trouble this week. Atlanta -3.    

Despite having a QB with a fractured spine, I am all in on the Cowboys.  The white knuckle part of this wager is the fact that on any given play Romo could be out and the Cowboys would have to weather a Full Weeden.  This is, of course, terrifying with cold cash on the line.  However, the Cowboys have been 8-1 ATS after a bye week.  I would think this bye week timed out well when your most important player is attempting to recover from a broken back.  The Giants meanwhile are 3-11 against the spread facing teams with a winning record.  Let me try to make sense of that stat for you… The Giants lose when they play good teams because they aren’t any good.  Sometimes it helps to have an expert really break down this type of information.  Dallas -3.5

If this was Thanksgiving, I would make the now traditional three team teaser of SF -.5/Atlanta +6/Dallas +5.5.  How about a four team teaser of SF+2.5/Atlanta +9/Dallas +8.5/Detroit +19?  How can you lose?  Oh boy...  I can't wait for next Thursday's doomed wager!

Season Record:  17-10-1 

Friday, November 21, 2014

Nurse the Hate: Still Hate The NBA

I went to see Jesus this week.  To those of you not in the know, I am referring to Northeast Ohio’s Savior, LeBron James.  I attended the game on tickets purchased via corporate America, as I shudder to think what these tickets would have cost a normal human being that couldn’t use it as a tax write off.  I heard a rumor that tickets in the lower bowl cost $185 per.  If I paid $185 for a ticket, I would hope that one of the Cavs at the end of the bench would wash and wax my car.  God knows that they won’t be playing, so they may as well do something productive with their evening. 

These Cavs games are currently the See and Be Seen Event in town.  I would like to say how Cleveland has always been a great basketball town, but that would be a lie.  The town is only interested if the team is really good to insanely good.  I am not under the impression that most of the people in the arena even know all the rules of the game.  The only possibility to fill the building is to stack the deck like this new InstaContender team.  Last year when the team was awful, it was very difficult to find anyone to go to a Monday night game vs the Nuggets.  The team needed to give away bobbleheads or gypsy slave kids to trick people in the doors.  Now it is filled to the brim with suburban ladies in their special date jeans and their dorky white collar middle manager husbands.  A man needs to prove his value and worth to his female companion by the status of the tickets he has been able to secure.  I cannot imagine how many text messages fly around the arena with gloating or hung heads regarding seat locations.  “Oh, we are in 112 Row C.  Ron got the tickets.  OmiGod!  Susan!  You are all the way up in the club level!  That’s terrible.  What?  Oh… Oh… Who’s suite are you in?  Oh…” 

Let me make something perfectly clear.  No one is actually watching basketball.  The game is so secondary to the event, it hardly bears mentioning.  The Cavs have installed what might be the largest video screen on the planet above the court.  I think it is called The Enormotron or The MegaScreen or some such shit.  It is impossible not to look at it.  Like a moth to a flame, my eyes are drawn to watching the game on that TV.  Sure, the actual LeBron James is right in front of me, but I couldn’t help myself.  It was a constant struggle to make myself watch the actual game on the court instead of the game on the TV the size of a large government building. 

The most exciting event is the player introductions.  A movie plays on the screen.  A sound system that would make Black Sabbath weep bludgeons the skull with triumphant music.  Cavs players are introduced like conquering Gods until the crescendo is reached with LeBron.  I’m sorry.  We were mad at you? We LOVE you LeBron!  WE LOVE YOU!  Ka-Boom.  Flames shoot out of the scoreboard.  The houselights go up.  There is a sudden drop in excitement when the crowd collectively realizes that now they will have to actually sit through a November regular season game involving the Denver Nuggets.  I didn’t know a single person in their starting five.  Not one. 

I tried to have a good time and chat with the group of people I took to the game.  That is impossible.  Every second of the game is dominated by that monster sound system playing terrible club music and canned cheers.  It is as difficult to talk to someone two seats away as it would be at a construction site.  It is as if you walked into a really bad nightclub and a basketball game broke out.  This is called “game presentation” in the parlance of the industry. 

I might sound like the crabby old guy now.  I don’t give a fuck.  If I go through the hassle of attending a basketball game, I would like to actually watch the basketball with some relative focus.  The entire event is designed for someone with attention deficit disorder.  Sanitized “urban” beats fill every second.  It’s like if Disney wanted to show suburbanites their version of a visit to an idealized black inner city neighborhood.  The GigantiTron throws wave after wave of corny comedy and sponsored features.  The “Scream Team”, a bunch of young men with stage names like “Octavian” and “Chillex” dance around on the court like those bad breakdancing videotape ads from the 80s during one of the 17 time outs each quarter.  Young aerobic instructors shake their tits and asses in Cavs cheerleader outfits.  A guy in a dog mascot costume shoots t-shirts into the crowd with a variety of air cannons.  Another guy in a Cavalier outfit shoots an air cannon at the other end.  Video screens stream with constant ads all around the arena.  It’s all happening at the same time.  I have no fucking idea what is happening on the court.  I don’t even care.  It’s irrelevant.  The other bullshit is what I am being demanded to focus on. 

I had no idea the Cavs were down by 16 in the 3rd quarter until I figured out how to read the scoreboard.  I don’t know why they were down by so many as I absorbed almost none of the game and the TremendoTron blocked my view of the Cavs stats on one of the 43 video screens in the building.  I did see the “Kiss Cam” though and the Pittsburgh Steelers logo when I was supposed to boo an otherwise meaningless free throw attempt in the 4th quarter.  By the end of it, I was wrung out like I had stared at a strobe light for an hour.  I have no clue which particular player played well or poorly.  The Cavs lost big.  Double digits I think. 

People seemed to like it.  I don’t know if I am so out of touch with popular culture that I can’t recognize “fun” or if I am looking for the wrong thing at a Cavs game.  I was expecting basketball.  Instead I got (in the immortal words of David Foster Wallace) “a supposedly fun thing that I will never do again”.


Saturday, November 15, 2014

Nurse the Hate: Hate the NFL Week 11 2014

I am all in on the Packers.  Good God did they kick the fuck out of the Bears. When a team is able to run up a 42-0 halftime score on anyone in the NFL, it seems reasonable to assume that this team is clicking.  I don't see any reason why they don't cover six points from the wildly overrated Eagles.  Mark Sanchez played well last week, but I think it is too much to expect him to win a shoot out with Aaron Rogers.  This game will have all sorts of hype about being a playoff preview, but from what I  am seeing in Green Bay right now I am laying on the Pack until something goes wrong.  Green Bay -6.

Carson Palmer is the luckiest unlucky guy on the planet.  Things were going well for him in Arizona.  He signs a $50 million contract extension. Three days later he gets his knee blown out (again) and he is hobbling around wearing a visor until Independence Day.  Well, I'll bet the money helps ease the sting...

So now the narrative is that Arizona is doomed because their backup QB is at the helm.  Bulletin.  Drew Stanton has played well when called upon and actually outplayed Palmer in preseason.  I don't think the drop off will be that dramatic for a team that has won 14 of their last 17 games.  If I lived in Phoenix I would drive a white car with great A/C, learn to play golf, have uncomfortable conversations with Alice Cooper, and score Cardinals playoff tickets.  AZ +1 at home over the Lions.

This Patriots v Colts game seems like a sucker bet.  Giving the Patriots points after giving The Hoodie extra time to prepare a defense for a young team can't be right.  This really seem like one of those tricks Vegas does to get my money.  "Let's give The Rubes New England with points!  After that Denver ass kicking they will all line up to give us their paychecks!  Hahahaha!  Gimme a cigar and a scotch!"  I can't stop myself though.  I am doing it. New England +2.5.

Season Record:  14-10-1

Friday, November 14, 2014

Nurse the Hate: Hate the Snowstorm

Today marked the first snow of the season.  Despite living in an area of the country which has six months of lousy weather, the entire population reacted as if this was the first time they had ever encountered snow.  All rules of the road went completely out the window.  Cars crawled down clean streets at 10 mph as if even the slightest bit of speed would fling the automobile off the road to a fiery death.  On the other side of the coin, flimsy mini vans barreled down unplowed highways at seventy miles an hour, swaying dangerously back and forth as they refused to give even an inch to the elements.  The combination of these two types of drivers made area roads impassible gridlock. 

The news media has swooped down on these minor inconveniences and all competed with each other to inflate the situation.  If anyone spends more than 10 minutes with local TV or radio, they will be sent into a frenzy to gather up water, canned goods, and weapons to try and wait out this White Death.  The level of hysteria is at Def Con4.  I don't think there would be a way to ratchet up the fever pitch.  For example, if an alien spaceship were to land in Public Square, I have no idea how The Fear Machine could get us all to another level.  "Hello Jan, we are at Public Square where this alien spacecraft has landed and aliens have marched out onto the streets.  The question on all of our minds is how will city snowplows get through the area by the spacecraft to apply salt?  We can only hope the aliens can be convinced to move their spacecraft so city vehicles can access this area, otherwise commuters may be looking at further delays.  Jan... What will this unprecedented two inches of snowfall mean for our weekend?"

It really points to the Culture of Fear that exists in the United States now.  In the good old days before 9/11, we knew to be afraid of those angry Russians who were waiting to launch nuclear missles at our homes at even the smallest provocation.  With the fall of the Iron Curtain, that left no scary foe until the ultimate boogieman in Terrorism guaranteed that an unseen and unknowable enemy would always be left lurking in the shadows to do terrible things to us.  There is so much energy spent trying to convince ourselves that we are unsafe at every waking moment.  Terrorists, exotic diseases, cyber predators, criminals, random shootings, defective consumer products... It never ends.  Now we have convinced ourselves that even the smallest snowfall is a risk factor along the lines of a tornado.

I hate to be the "back in my day" cranky guy, but if the shoe fits...  When I grew up in Erie PA here's what the newscast sounded like...  "There was a fire.  The economy is fucked up.  The local sports team lost.  We are getting 4 inches of snow tonight and maybe two more tomorrow.  Have a great night."  Everyone was accustomed to getting snow because that's what happens here.  You shoveled the shit out, and went about your business.  The wild eyed behavior that goes on here now would be like if you turned on the TV in Aruba, and the weather said "Holy mother of mercy!  It was 90 degrees today.  This blanket of death has no end in sight.  Gather water.  Try to find shade.  May the sweet Virgin Mother be with you all.." and then the screen goes to fuzz as general looting and chaos ensued.

I am poised to try to make it back to the general area where I live.  This is a mistake as I am positive that I will simply be stepping into gridlock.  My only silver lining is the recent acquisition of Bob Dylan and the Band's reissue of The Basement Tapes "Raw".  Bad news?  I am stepping into a chaotic evacuation of the city with little or no hope of getting to where I want to go.  Good news?  I will know every version of "Tiny Montgomery" and "Million Dollar Bash" by heart in about three hours.  God bless us.  Each and every one.


Thursday, November 13, 2014

Nurse the Hate: Christmas in Autumn

She got a jump on holiday decorating and opened up box after musty box of Santas, angels, and snowmen.  Various colors and styles combined in a stylistic mishmash that made the home look like a bad Christmas LSD trip.  Dozens of scented candles battled with each other and left a noticeable residue in the mouth and nose of all those that dared to enter the modest dwelling.  Decorations fought with each other to be noticed.  It was like a discount store decoration museum with a TV always on, always ignored.  A string of lights buzzed outside, hastily nailed to the gutters.  The effect was less festive than to make the house look like a bar and grill from faded pictures he had seen from the early 1960s.  Smiling men in galoshes holding longneck beers from long defunct brands.  An uneasy smile.  Nowhere to go to avoid bumping into a smiling reindeer.  He felt warm and uncomfortable.  He imagined shoddy poorly wrapped gifts exchanged, forgotten moments after being given.  Uneaten food sitting in plastic snowman shaped serving dishes.  A cigarette burning unattended.  Empty stockings nailed up to the fake hearth.  Drinking.  Arguing.  Madness.  The dried out Christmas tree eventually dragged to the curb in February leaving a trail of needles like a bleeding corpse.  There was no avoiding it.  The holidays were coming.  But not yet for him.  He walked out of the house and felt the tension ease from his neck.  He looked back at the house.  He could still smell the candles on his clothes.      

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Nurse the Hate: Hate the NFL 2014 Week 10

I'm going to bet on the Saints today at home.  Let's get that out of the way.  I'm feeling a bit conflicted about this as I recently read an opinion that backed a suspicion I have had that the Saints fans are the most obnoxious in the NFL.  This takes some doing, as ALL NFL FANS are completely obnoxious.  There isn't a stadium in the country where after an afternoon sitting in an end zone or upper deck the phrase "What a bunch of dicks" won't be uttered.  There's just something about that New Orleans smug attitude of passing off things that are shitty as being "real New Orleans".  Po-boys are all good and all, but let's be honest.  A Philly Cheesesteak kicks the crap out of those sandwiches.  "Oh, but the music in New Orleans is amazing!"  Um, yeah, 70 years ago it was...  I don't think anyone can refer to the Neville Brothers as "amazing" and keep a straight face.  Maybe I'm wrong and you are sitting in your house eating a beignet (or "doughnut") while spinning a Louie Armstrong record.  I don't know.  All I know is that by placing a healthy wager on the Saints at home vs the 49ers, I will be forced to watch whatever lame ass "real New Orleans" images the network broadcast puts up while interspliced with shots of Jim Harbaugh freaking out like a suburban Dad at his eight year olds game.  It's not pleasant viewing.

I am going to subject myself to this because of the following:  The Saints are 19-1-1 against the spread at home during the Sean Payton era.  That is a number that gets my attention.  San Francisco has all sorts of wonderful stats about their recent past, but the worm seems to have turned there.  The players hate the coach.  The coach hates the GM.  The GM hates the coach.  Their good players are mostly hurt or facing legal problems.  It's sort of a mess.  I think New Orleans is better than their record indicates, and they win this game.  Afterwards a bunch of people will get even drunker and then urinate in the streets.  Don't worry.  That's "real New Orleans".  New Orleans -4.

You know who looks really good right now?  Green Bay.  You know who doesn't look very good?  Chicago.  Do you know who you don't want to play if you are a bad team?  Green Bay in Green Bay.  Chicago has the #31 pass defense.  That might be an issue in facing Green Bay which makes even good defenses look like developmentally challenged third graders having to deal with the high school varsity team.  Chicago is 2-11 against the spread in their division.  That's not too good.  The Pack have covered 9 of 11 when favored by a touchdown or more.  That is good.  I am not a learned man.  I struggle with even simple ideas.  However, there are two things that I know to be true.  1)  If you are behind a chunky gal in yoga pants at Starbucks, her drink order is going to involve whipped cream.  2)  The Packers are going to kick the fuck out of the Bears and Brandon Marshall will go Def Con 4 afterwards in the locker room.  By the following Tuesday, the city of Chicago will have convinced themselves they are one new head coach or QB away from the Super Bowl.  They aren't.  They suck.  Green Bay -7

Season Record:  13-9-1

Friday, November 7, 2014

Nurae the Hate: Hate AC/DC

Yesterday I heard that AC/DC drummer Phil Rudd was arrested for attempting to hire a hit man to kill two men in New Zealand.  This is going to be my favorite news story of 2014, without question.  The only way to top that would be if we could switch some details out to something like “David Bowie Leads Mexican Drug Cartel”, “Geezer Butler Beheads Area Teen”, or “Kenny Aronoff Kidnaps Mary-Kate Olsen, Suspected Of Horrific Sex Crimes”.  What possible reason would AC/DC’s drummer have to have a couple of guys killed (or “whacked” as I suppose he would say)?  AC/DC has a never ending stream of live concert revenue coming in, with more on the way with a new release waiting in the wings.  Rudd is 60 years old, so I assume that whatever screwed up female relationships he has can be simply walked away from with minimal collateral damage.  What could possibly lead him to think “I ought to hire a hit man!  That is the solution!”

The natural answer is that he is a drummer.  Drummers are stereotypically off kilter.  This is probably due to being so close to continual impact of drums, much the same way that jackhammer operators are probably totally out of their gourds.  The brain gets damaged.  When someone does something really stupid backstage at a rock show, the answer of “he’s a drummer” is generally enough to gain understanding from the offended party.  They are on the bottom of the rock totem pole, and with every stereotype come a shred of truth.  Q:  What’s the difference between a drummer and a pig?  A:  The pig won’t stay up all night trying to fuck a drummer. 

Only a drummer would think to hire a hit man.  Drummers live in a world very different from you and I.  Most drummers news and information comes to them via animated programming from The Cartoon Network.  The idea that a hit man would be the solution to their problem makes sense through a haze of weed smoke and cable TV.  Leo thinks South Park is a documentary.  The line between reality and fantasy gets confusing.  I firmly believe that the very existence of “hit man” is something dreamt up by Hollywood movies.  Every few months a story comes to light about someone being arrested for trying to hire a hit man, which always turns out to be an undercover cop.  ALWAYS.  I cannot ever recall reading a news story that states “John Doe was found dead in his apartment, the apparent victim of a hit man.  Area detectives noted, “You could tell this was a professional hit.  We have no known motives or evidence.  It was a real pro that did this.”  The police have no idea who could have committed this crime.”

Maybe I am way off base in this, and many of my friends are right now planning “hits” on the population as I type.  Maybe they are planning a hit on me.  Who knows?  Perhaps there is a reliable online source to hire hit men, like an Angie’s List of crime.  “Spider Jenkins was a reliable hit man.  He killed my ex-husband with a piano wire, and left no trail back to me.  I would recommend using Spider for any future murders I plan.  Four stars.”  However, if that is the case, I would think that perfectly executed clandestine murders would be the norm.  The chance of anyone being left alive at any insurance company claims office is almost none.  Good luck at trying to hire clerks at the DMV.  “Well, we are short handed since Nancy refused to give that guy his sticker for his plate and got poisoned while she slept…” 

I will be watching this developing story very closely.  Fear not , the machine that is AC/DC will roll on.  Some amazing session drummer just received the best phone call ever.  That lucky fella will soon be settling comfortably in the old Phil Rudd bunk on the tour bus, ready to stare at Cartoon Network flickering on the screen as the bus rolls from Detroit to Chicago.  He may even catch a Phil Rudd news update if he rolls over the remote and it flips to CNN.  I don’t really care abut Phil Rudd one way or the other, but perhaps this can shed a little light on the New Zealand Hit Man Community, and by default the Cleveland Hit Man Community.  Until I know what’s going on for sure, I’ll sleep with one eye open.  Oi!

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Nurse the Hate: Hate the NFL 2014 Week 9

My hands trembled holding the television remote.  I blinked while staring at the screen, not sure if what I was seeing was actually happening.  The initial excitement rose in me as I realized it was happening.  It was really happening.  Brandon Weeden was under center playing QB for the Dallas Cowboys.  Praise Jesus.

Brandon Weeden is without question my favorite professional football player.  He has done things on a football field that I have never seen before and will probably never see again.  There is no way to limit your expectations with what he might do out on that field.  He is capable of making a decision in the moment that no one could have possibly seen coming.  If he was a firefighter, he would be in a blazing house working with a hose and suddenly turn on all the gas on the cooking range.  As an ambulance driver he might enter on the wrong side of the highway in some wild misguided attempt to make better time swerving through oncoming traffic.  If he was sitting next to you on a commercial airline flight, he just might pop open the emergency door to get himself a little air.  Anything is possible.

When I saw Tony Romo injure his back, I felt bad for Romo.  He seems like an OK guy and having your surgically repaired back crushed probably doesn't feel very good.  I would have been in a complete body cast if that would have happened to me.  Afterwards I would move exclusively by Rascal, maybe even putting a bell on it to show my sense of humor.  Despite having that crushed spine, Romo still came back on the field at the end of the game last week, knowing full well that the Cowboys had NO CHANCE with Weeden at QB.  It was gutsy as shit, but he looked suspiciously like a man with an injured back trying to play football.  He is probably on a Rascal right now at the Cowboys facility.  That leads us into this week...

The Cowboys host Arizona this week.  They are giving Arizona 4 points.  I thought that was a misprint when I first saw it.  I am trying to wrap my head around the idea that I can take Dallas with Tony Romo's broken spine OR the spectre of Dallas enjoying a Full Weeden.  Oh God, do I hope it is Weeden.  The other option is to take Arizona, who has quietly gone 13-3 in their last 16 games across two seasons.  Oh, and I get them with four points.  In Dallas... where the Cowboys are 7 of 28 as home favorites.  I am taking what they say is an "aggressive position" on the Arizona Cardinals.  Arizona +4.

The problem with Miami is that no one really gives a shit about their sports teams.  In Miami when the Dolphins lose, the fan base says "Oh well, let's go to the beach and leer at South American models".  In places like NE Ohio the fan base says "We fucking lost in the cold rain and I am going to go home and beat my entire extended family".  Though it is a sick and twisted reality, it does create a sense of urgency at home games that just doesn't translate in Miami.  I think that is why Miami is 10-36 as a home favorite.  The Chargers are a good team, well rested coming off a game last Thursday.  Plus, it's always a good idea to bet against Joe Philbin when you can.  I'm taking San Diego on the money line to win outright.

Season Record: 12-8-1