Thursday, January 11, 2007






clips win, maybe their biggest dub of the season so far, at minnie, on a maggette j with 5 seconds left (kg missed one at the buzzer), 2nd in a row with sam testicle dance back on the floor.

not that this shot or his impressive game necessarily changes things big pic wise, but that picture says a thousand words. maggs can be (and is, often) huge on this team. dunleavy signore, cmon, bury the hatchet in whatever birdshit sandwich you're obsessed with dining on and lets use maggs to his fullest, for the season, and get this shit on track (which is what appears to be happnin, but in clips nat, ducks walking don't necessarily quack).

for at least one more day, the nation is a great place to reside, and my peramanent addy of crapsterpiece manor never smelled better. gratzi, fellas.



Wednesday, January 10, 2007


Our little girl’s sick right now, and it’s a real drag, this chest cold which just does not want to vacate the premises after 2 weeks of constantly mutating residence. I like to perch her on my knee while she claps in glee and sing her songs of the day (soon, soon, my love) when she won’t cough anymore and breath will be unencumbered by ghostly goblins of goobrish anti-glee, and she looks at me with this joyous visage that only she can muster, with those 7 months of wisdom and those 14 some odd days of brave perseverance against an unknown and heretofore unmeasured enemy, the common or not so common upper respiratory infection, and it’s infectious, she lives, she loves, she knows nothing but mother and father and her surroundings and appreciating everything for what it is and it really makes you stop and think vat zee frick is it all about all you individuals in tv land, and then you know, it’s about this moment, this guidance, this spirit in this little body and her future past present and magical mysterious essence, folks of others in all timelines and dimensions you catch my drift.





say it ain’t so marsho. Yup, marshawn lynch (pictured, flying by the texas a&m baffleders, er, aggs) is goin pro, headed to the national football blah blah. Pray for another antithesis of the tale of russel white, but I don’t see that happnin, russel left a year too late, sadly, for me, but best for lynch, marshey’s leavin at the pic perf tiempo, remember I told you this, and no he ain’t anudda jj Arrington either, he’s the real dillio Tyson ear getting chomped hombre. Sayonara marshmallow mayne, and gratzi por la memoirs. Salud. and yes I know it's old news, but digestion is two thirds execution and one third pontification.



Monday, January 08, 2007


simpleton has started one of the most insanest best blogs ever. Now there’s an idea man.

Here? Um, here’s a, uh, hmmm.

Go clips, another chance to win a road game against a beat up sadsack squad tonite, which shall likely be squandered as dunleavy signore tries to wack square pegs into those pretty round holes. Salud!