Friday, April 07, 2006




hey there. Jesus Christ, I know, I don’t have to have a salutation. I can start saying whatever the hell it is I’m going to say. I know. It’s ok. You don’t have to tell me. Honestly, I do it because I like it. I think it adds some consistency. It gives you the special sauce and cheese that even though you hate it, you’re used to it, so you keep coming back for more, like that starbucks crap coffee, it’s good, but not good, it’s evil, and yet employs so many people that desperately wish it was 15 years ago that it’s not even funny yet avante guardedly hilarious. Fuck that shit, though, cuz it isn’t. goddammit, fuck me, too. No, metaphorically. Get your damn pants back on. Sicko.

Wes Magyar

Spinach Dip (where yours truly has a guest spot today, care of malatron)



Wednesday, April 05, 2006





I have like 5 million and one things to do, so I guess I’ll write a bunch of crap for grover the closet monster to read. Hey, that’s you. Or not. Anyway, the clippers are kicking ass. Last night they came back from 22 down to beat the Denver Nuggets. Talk about excitement. Or don’t. not sure why I said that. Anyway, you may have noticed, if you’re in a coma, that I haven’t talked about the clippers at my normally intense pace this year. Don’t think it’s for lack of interest. Maybe I’m afraid I’ll jinx them. It was very comfortable when they lost all year long and I could bitch about it. But fuck comfort. This is what I always dreamed of, a clipper team that not only makes the playoffs, but looks to be a contender. The last time the clips went to the nba version of the dance (1997) they limped in with a losing record in an incredible weak western conference and were summarily executed in 3 straight games by a very good Utah Jazz team, featuring the mailman and Stockton, that would go on to lose to Jordan and the Bulls in the finals. This Clipper team featured such luminaries as Loy Vaught, Lamond Murray, and Pooh Richardson, if memory serves correct. Not to mention the Polish Rifle. Dammit, I told you not to mention him.