I know that Kanye West is currently A-1 on the FBI's Biggest Douche List. Well, he might have relinquished the top spot to Jay Leno. After all, deliberately disrupting a friend's lifelong dream (Conan's dream of hosting the Tonight Show) is much worse than drunkenly ruining Taylor Swift's speech for an award she didn't care about.

Regardless of Kanye's current ranking, I'm going to attempt to exonerate him. Or at the very least, plea bargain him back into acceptability. I know, I know. The evidence is stacked against Mr. West. But our collective short memories that caused us to forget Kanye's cultural significance will also allow the Taylor Swift incident to eventually be forgotten. It's the same short-term retentiveness that allows Mel Gibson back in action movies, Marv Albert back on TNT and will eventually put Tiger back on top. Time passed and they're good at what they do. In American pop culture there's a formula. Time + Talent=Forgiveness. If Kanye can regain his cool, he's got a chance to be welcomed back into our arms.
Why am I defending Kanye? Three reasons.

1.) The music
We have reached a point of total exposure. Unprecedented coverage of stars' lives and immediate posting of any transgressions on youtube can bring any celebrity down a notch. Some might even drop several notches if, say, you're dumb enough to embarrass yourself on a live awards show. There is a window into the personal lives of stars that past generations never experienced. In a span of a year, you might hear about a celebrity sucking face with any clubgoer who has tongue(Lohan), getting arrested at a Walgreens(LaBeouf) or sharing a misguided thought about politics(Jolie, Baldwin, Penn and any other self-important professional actor who mistakes him or herself for Thomas Paine). It's enough to make you forget why they're famous in the first place.
When it comes down to it, there's a reason that Kanye should be remembered when his time on this earth is done: He's an extraordinarily talented and noteworthy rapper that tremendously influenced music during his prime.

2.) Chi-City
L.A. had Snoop and Dr. Dre. New York had Jay Z, Nas and 50. Atlanta had Outkast and Ludacris. Detroit had Eminem. Heck, even small cities like New Orleans, Cleveland and St. Louis had big name stars of note (Cash Money Millionaires, Bone Thugs & Harmony and Nelly, respectively).
Finally Chicago had a King in the rap game. Hip-hop was around for way too long, being dominated by New York, L.A. and even Atlanta MCs, without having one of the toughest, most gangsta cities making its mark. Sure, there was undeniable talent in the form of Do-Or-Die and Twista. There was also the R. in R&B. But even with the transcendent talent of R. Kelly, Chicago was lacking an actual rapper with industry-wide recognition and influence. Then there was Kanye, with a style and presence so unique it transformed the entire genre. He exploded on the scene, taking hip-hop to places it had never been before; and it was obvious things would never be the same. Kanye, with Common at his side, defined Chicago rap and made the Windy City the center of the hip-hop world for the middle part of a decade. And he remembered where he came from. The pride he had for his hometown was evident and he boasted the way any proud Chicagoan would. He wrote love songs about Chicago. "I'm coming home again..."
Bottom line is Kanye was an ambassador for the city; and a great one at that. The devotion in his rhymes was genuine and it came across. Don't think for a minute that people around the globe didn't notice and think: Wow, imagine how grand that city must be that it could inspire such passion.

3.) Cultural Significance

Kanye has the instinct to speak his mind. Understatement? Yes. This instinct gets him in trouble. He says and does crazy things. He lets his emotions take over at public events. And he takes MTV awards seriously. We saw this manifest itself when he ambushed Taylor Swift at the MTV VMAs. Embarrassing. But you can't blame Kanye for following his instict. It has served him well in the past. In fact, it was a powerful weapon that separated him from the crowd. Recently it seems as if the weight of fame and tragedy(the death of his mother) caused this power to become unwieldy.
Yet speak his mind that got Kanye in trouble at the 2009 VMAs had previously inspired his finest moment:

"George Bush Doesn't Care About Black People"

A seven word sentence that resonated with Americans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. For days, we all watched as mother nature destroyed a historic city. There was 24-hour news coverage of the devastation. Helicopters took video of human beings trapped on rooftops, bodies floating and hoards of suddenly homeless people fighting to survive. I know this is all common knowledge, nothing new, but let's review anyway, shall we?

Then there was President Bush on vacation on his Texas ranch. He was briefed by federal disaster officials on Sunday August 28th, 2005. They warned him that Katrina could breach the levees. Our President asked zero questions during the briefing, but assured everyone, "We are prepared."

On Monday the 29th, the levee broke.

On Tuesday the 30th, Bush played golf. Later in the day, he made a speech about the war effort in Iraq. During the speech, he announced he was cutting his vacation short to return to Washington. Which he did, one day later.

On Wednesday the 31st, Air Force One did a flyover of the disaster area on the way back to D.C.

Bush finally visited the affected areas on Friday, declaring that New Orleans would rise again.

Then there was the celebrity-infused fundraiser. The thought was nice and it was a monetary success. Adam Sandler answered phones, Sheryl Crow performed and Chris Tucker implored watchers to contribute. Despite the genuine effort, the entire program had the usual Hollywood stink of pretension that accompanies any public gathering of the rich and famous. There was one exception. In a moment that will go down in youtube history,(not just for the eventual hilarity of Kanye's fortuitous juxtaposition with Mike Myers) Kanye spoke his mind. Part of the reason it was so shocking was the fact that Kanye's statement surfaced amongst repetitive, scripted, "TGIF"-friendly words spewed mindlessly by professional gloom bearers. Kanye ignored the cue cards and said something real; what he was actually feeling. As the networks scrambled to cut away and the pundits laughed at Mike Myers' sideways glance, I have to believe that many African-Americans thought to themselves: Fuck yeah, finally somebody had the guts to say it. Flooding victims of every race were downright angry with the government's response and had every right to be. If they weren't busy trying to stay alive, I'll bet it would've been refreshing to hear somebody badger the President for his lack of action.

As a white guy, watching the inhumanity of Hurricane Katrina from afar caused me to feel as if I had glimpsed true first-hand coverage of racial inequity in our government's treatment of people, something that I, for the most part, had previously only read in history books and seen played out in Dave Chappelle skits.

Long story short, Kanye is part of history. Sadly, he's fallen from grace. Kanye went from mouthpiece for those suffering to someone that Barack Obama called "a jackass". Ouch.

But does he really deserve to have comic points scored off him by the likes of Taylor Lautner while hosting SNL? We're talking about someone who's main accompishment is taking his shirt off in a movie that Roger Ebert said "takes the tepid achievement of "Twilight" (2008), guts it, and leaves it for undead. You know you're in trouble with a sequel when the word of mouth advises you to see the first movie twice instead."

The 90's equivalent of this would be Fabio openly mocking Chuck D.

Kanye can turn public perception around, if he tries. And I think enough time has passed that we can forgive him for interrupting one of Taylor Swift's 250 award speeches in 2009. It's not as if he interrupted Martin Scorcese's Oscar speech or a mentally handicapped kid winning an ESPY.

So here's hoping we can welcome Kanye back...as long as he doesn't do anything stupid. Which, I'm sure, will be no problem for him.

Posted by Brendan at 01:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm a sucker for a good Nike ad. The new one featuring LaDainian Tomlinson and Troy Polamalu is awesome. Nike's best effort since a couple years ago when they had Brian Urlacher, Michael Vick & co. playing together on a high school team. If you haven't seen the new one, I'll see if Ed Silha can find it and post it here. The ad is titled "Fate". You know a commercial is good when it has its own title.

CLICK HERE

Posted by Brendan at 09:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

A few weeks back, I had an unpleasant encounter with a Condescending Australian. It was a social occasion; and the arrogant Aussie and I somehow ended up chatting. His disdain for me and the good old U.S. of A. was apparent. For the sake of polite conversation and despite a glaring lack of interest in talking, I inquired about Australia and what it was like. The dude had the audacity to tell me that I wouldn't understand, being an American. That may be true, but he didn't have to say it to my face. I shrugged it off, realizing that Americans don't have a glowing reputation abroad and there are plenty of dumb Americans (including one writing this blog). To be honest, I don't know much about Australia. Yet I'm still able to sleep at night.

The only time in my life that I spent any extended period of time with Australians came a few years ago. I was doing some landscaping around my grandma's condo complex to earn some extra cash before I headed back to school. The head of the condo board teamed me up with a couple of Australian guys that had began a trip in Canada and were touring through North America, picking up work along the way. We worked side by side with minimal conversation until lunchtime rolled around. The lady from the condo board came outside and offered to run and get us some sandwiches from Subway. After a blistering morning of work, I was ravenous, and the notion of a footlong roast beef had me salivating. "Sounds great," I said. But the Australians huddled and began to protest. They didn't want Subway. Instead they wanted sliced fruit. Sliced Fruit. For Lunch. Seriously. We put it to a vote, and I lost 2-1, obviously. So, I had to eat fruit for lunch. Not exactly the energy boost I was seeking to complete the afternoon workload. And by the way, one of the guys was named "Peace". That was his real first name. Not surprisingly, Peace was the one really pushing hard for the fruit lunch. Needless to say, I wasn't high on these Aussies. And it wasn't just the lunch fiasco. Right from the outset, they had the same dismissive, better-than-me attitude that the aforementioned Condescending Australian exhibited.

So, back to a few weeks ago...
Irked, but not really caring what a Condescending Australian thought of me personally, I generously gave him a chance to qualify his comment. "I know most of the world doesn't admire our President right now, but there must be some Americans you respect," I said. So, I threw out a few names that might be more favorably received. "What about Bill Clinton?" "Bah," the CA(Condescending Australian) said. Then he added, "Bill Clinton can suck a ____." That's the exact opposite of what happens to Bill, so I laughed it off. Then I figured that maybe we could find some common ground through athletics. Hell, it works at the Olympics. I lavished praise on Australian swimming legend Ian "The Thorpedo" Thorpe, champion of the 2000 Sydney Games. I sat back and waited for an homage to Michael Phelps, but none was forthcoming. Even when I said "How awesome is Michael Phelps?" Nothing. And right after I said such nice things about The Thorpedo. It was desperation time. In crunch time, you turn to a clutch performer to save the day. I thought to myself: Everyone loves Michael Jordan, even Condescending Australians. So, I mentioned the name of the Hero of Heroes, MJ. The CA repeated his Bill Clinton insult. "Michael Jordan can..." That was the last straw. Embracing the dumb American inside me, I unleashed a nonsensical stream of derision aimed at Crocodile Dundee and Koala Bears. I didn't really have any cogent arguments. I mean, how much ridicule can you bestow upon a eucalyptus tree? But I was undeterred. I finished my diatribe by compiling a list of best countries in the world. As you might guess, Australia was bringing up the rear. The CA did not care for my list, which gave me enough closure to end the confrontation before it came to blows(not the Clinton kind).

Now, with my limited exposure to Australians, I can't really condemn an entire continent. Then I'd be no better than the CA. I'm sure there are plenty of reasonable Australians that are cool as hell. I'd like to meet them if anyone knows any. For now, I guess I'm just disappointed that I've had such negative experiences with Australians. I mean, I love Russell Crowe. I'm going to keep an open mind and assume that the CA was just a dick. Hopefully, my next run in with an Aussie will be a positive one and they can boomerang right back into my good graces.

Posted by Brendan at 10:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

It's just after dawn, and Tiffani Bender searches the rubble in vain for her favorite thong. "It's honey-colored and says 'Sweet Nectar' on the front. It was a Christmas present from my bf Shane," Bender laments.
Bender is just one of hundreds of Party Girls whose mid-summer party break on South Padre Island was ruined by the terror of Hurricane Dolly. Suitcases full of babydoll tees, zip-front hoodie tees and faux wrap tees were ripped from hotel rooms, leaving Party Girls without appropriate party attire for tonight's Margarita Mayhem bash at Palm St. Pier.
"It totally sucks big ones," cried Steffi Plattimore from her beachfront deck. "Thursdays are the best night to go out, and I have nothing to wear." Behind Plattimore, the waves gently batted around a pair of shorts that read 'Naughty Grrrrrl' across the buttocks. A sign that Plattimore isn't the only Party Girl short a wardrobe.
South Padre reveler Anna Koustos shared this harrowing tale: "Last night I was at Dirty Dave's Deck. (Katy Perry's hit single) 'I Kissed A Girl' came on, and I looked around and there were only like 5 or 6 girls making out with each other. It was soooo sad. Usually there's like, I don't know, a hundred? My friend Sandi had to make out with a guy during 'I Kissed a GIRL', because I was kissing Molly. How tacky is that?"
The statistics tell the real story of the damage. Body shots are down 26% on the island since the storm hit. Flashing breasts at cameras is down 18%. Random hook-ups are down a eye-popping 67%.
"This is, like, I don't even know how to say it. It's bad," said Bender, now forced to wear a T-shirt she won at Coconuts on Monday in a jello-related contest. "I'm still going out tonight and getting retarded, I don't care. At least there's always the option of just not wearing underwear." That kind of optimism is sure to be a catalyst for a return to normal for Party Girl Nation. Until then, a world watches and waits.

Posted by Brendan at 10:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I was flipping channels and got sucked into "Remember the Titans" this weekend. I forgot what a terrific movie it is, with a solid Denzel lead. Always looking for an easy topic to write about, it got me thinking about some of my favorite sports movies. (Lazy blogging, I know.) With apologies to "Brian's Song", I'm gonna stick to movies from 1980-present. In the sports comedy section, "Caddyshack" is a no-brainer. But there's also "Major League", "Happy Gilmore", "Talladega Nights" and so many more. Also, do movies like "The Naked Gun" and "Old School" count as sports films due to the inclusion of baseball and gymnastics, respectively? These are the questions that plague me. Maybe God could provide an answer if he wasn't so busy helping all those athletes win ESPYs. Oh, well.
For me, "Hoosiers" has to be the greatest sports film, beating out the aforementioned "Remember the Titans", "Field of Dreams" and "The Natural", among others. 'Hoosiers" kind of designed a formula that a number of sports movies follow to this day. Gene Hackman, who now spends his time stealing voiceover work(Lowe's, Oppenheimer) from poor youngsters, was nothing short of brilliant. And no one needs to be reminded of Dennis Hopper's role as "Shooter". I've left out tons of great movies, so feel free to mention some favorites of your own and criticize my picks. I know Matt will never forgive me for ignoring "The Sandlot". One more drama that I must recommend is a basketball drama called "Above the Rim" that features a tour-de-force from a young rapper/actor named Tupac Shakur. 'Pac plays a hustler named "Birdie" that corrupts blue chip ballers. *SPOILER ALERT* At the end, Birdie is shot to death by Marlon Wayans.

Posted by Brendan at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (17)

This is an official review for the Rob Van Winkle, aka Vanilla Ice, concert that took place two Fridays ago outside of Cans in Bucktown. Unfortunately, I left before Ice took the stage, so I will be reviewing a concert that I did not see. I know I've made light of Matt's occasional ability to review movies that he's never seen. But he was apparently 100% right about "The Love Guru", as it failed miserably. A friend filled me in on the happenings at the Ice show, so I'll give it a go.
Vanilla Ice still has the magic. On a stage decorated with demons and other evil images(I'm told that he was born on Halloween, so he feels devilish themes invoke his spirit), he proceeded to entice the crowd by peppering his stage banter with gems like "Who here likes porno?!!!" Stage presence can't be taught. Some lucky ones, like Van Winkle, are just born with it. Clean and sober, yet heavily tattooed, Ice kept the crowd waiting only 70+ minutes to hear his many hits; such as "Ice, Ice, Baby" and "Ice, Ice,Baby(hard rock version)". Van Winkle's personal touches, such as begging audience members to lift their shirts, throwing half-full water bottles into the crowd and a full command and usage of the entire catalog of existent swear words are the reasons that he commands a $5 cover charge.
Godspeed, Mr. Van Winkle, wherever life's journey takes you next.

Posted by Brendan at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

After decades of sexual tension that has reached throbbing new heights in recent years, New York and Boston finally gave into temptation Sunday evening at the conclusion of another highly flirtatious three-game series between the Yankees and Red Sox. New York and Boston “got it on” at seedy motel while Bristol, Connecticut watched.
“I know it was wrong, but it was wicked good,” said Boston native Tommy O’Dooligan. O’Dooligan also commented on the size of New York’s Bronx, describing it as “freakin’ huge”. The circumstances that made the hookup irresistible started when Boston left its shirt strategically placed in New York’s new dressing room. New York found it and dug it up. “Boston has always been such a f’n tease. Am I right or what? Fuggetaboutit,” said New York’s Joey Trucko. “It’s a small city but it’s hot in the summertime. You know what I'm talkin' about. Aayyyy.” Several references to the Pedro Martinez “Yankees are my daddy” quote could be heard through the walls during the passionate session. Afterwards, the two drove off separately, but left the door open for another tryst, should any minor coincidence or controversy cause ESPN to spend 48 minutes of a 60-minute SportsCenter reminding everyone that the two franchises share a history.

Posted by Brendan at 10:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

The Matt Dahl Show is on break for now. We will return on St. Patrick's Day, Monday March 17th. Matt is on his way to do missionary work in Utah, as he does near the dawn of every spring as far back as he can remember. I will use the sabbatical to re-discover my hobby: stealing hood ornaments from luxury cars under the cover of darkness. I'm looking for a classic Jaguar to add to my collection. I might even bring back the classic look invented by Beastie Boy Mike D and wear a Volkswagen hood ornament around my neck. I need a fresh look for the spring season. Mike D's fashion statement is blamed for starting the hood ornament stealing craze. I used to wear stolen brake lines around my neck. Luckily for America, my all-white rap group never hit mainstream. Many lives could've been lost.

On a side note, I read that Adam Horowitz of the Beastie Boys briefly dated Molly Ringwald after the success of License to Ill. In an interview, the Beasties' road manager told the story of Adam and Molly's first date: “On their first date, they drank premixed bottled cocktails and did Whip-Its.” Awesome.

My ultimate goal within my hobby is to tour Europe and steal hood ornaments from overseas. Did you know that in the UK, they don't call them hood ornaments, they call them "car mascots"? No joke. (I'm including that fact as dialogue in my script for "Pulp Fiction 2:Pulp-ier Fiction".) I have to go now, as I am in the process of affixing some steer horns to the front of the Sebring. My own special hood ornament.

Posted by Brendan at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Just in time for Super Tuesday, Barack Obama has garnered the support of yet another Kennedy. Jamie Kennedy, star of "The Jamie Kennedy Experiment", "Malibu's Most Wanted" and, most recently, "Son of the Mask", joined the likes of Ted and Caroline Kennedy and Maria Shriver, calling the young lawmaker an inspriational uniter. "He is tough-minded but he also has an uncommon capacity to appeal to 'the better angels of our nature,'" Kennedy said, quoting from President Abraham Lincoln's first inaugural address in 1861. Echoing the words of Ted Kennedy, Jamie said he was searching for a candidate that "inspires me, inspires all of us." He was joined onstage by Neve Campbell and Matthew Lillard, Kennedy's "Scream" co-stars. Kennedy invoked the memory of Skeet Ulrich's awe-inspiring performance in the first "Scream" movie when speaking of Obama. Sen. Hillary Clinton of New York, Obama's chief rival, brushed off the Kennedy endorsement while noting that former MTV VJ Kennedy has backed her to be the party's presidential nominee in the November election.

Posted by Brendan at 07:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

When I came home the other day, a car right in front of my building had The Denver Boot affixed to its left front wheel. I was concerned that it would be in my favorite parking spot for long time, but, amazingly, it was gone within a few hours. The device is called "The Denver Boot" because the city of Denver was the first to employ them(surprise, surprise). I always assumed it was because John Denver was a parking ticket scofflaw, but that isn't the case. He only encountered problems in the air.

The Denver Boot was invented by a violinist named Frank Marugg. Marugg was in the Denver Symphony Orchestra and was a friend to the police community. In 1953, the sheriff approached Marugg, seeking a solution to the city's illegal parking problems. I can't imagine why he turned to a violinist for help, but it paid off. Marugg came up with the wheel clamp which came to be known as The Denver Boot. On a side note, I heard Rod Blagoevich consulted cellist Yo-Yo Ma shortly before announcing his "seniors ride free" program to save the CTA.

I recently took in an afternoon television showing of the movie Coyote Ugly, in which a guy places a fake Denver Boot on his car to keep the cops from putting a real one on. I don't think that would work, but who am I to question the plot of a Piper Perabo movie? I'm willing to suspend disbelief in order to watch 90 minutes of hot chicks dancing on the bar while Def Leppard blasts. Matt and I have been talking for a long time about hitting the Coyote Ugly club that's here in town. We've yet to follow through on that mission. I think I'm going to make it a priority. (See, sometimes you don't have to set New Year's resolutions, sometimes they find you.) Although I question whether it's anything like the movie. I imagine a bunch of guys turning out to see hot chicks and it becoming a dude fest. We'll see. I'm not sure what came first, the movie or the club. I guess I'd like to think that there was a real bar that spawned the film. On the other hand, if the movie inspired the club, it would give me hope for my line of Training Day clubs, where you sit there and drink until Denzel Washington comes and beats the hell out of you before forcing you to smoke PCP. I realize the insurance costs will be sky high, but the aspiration remains. Now that I think of it, Alonzo Harris(Denzel's character) would've made for a heck of a parking enforcement officer. Although, admittedly, narcotics detail made for a slightly more interesting storyline.

Posted by Brendan at 05:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)

If Matt and I had to pick our favorite international celebrity polar bear, I'd have to say that the Berlin Zoo's Cute Knut would be our choice. The Matt Dahl Show went to great lengths to provide extensive coverage of the life and times of Cute Knut. On the occasion of Knut's 1st birthday, which is today, I thought it was only appropriate that mattdahl.com cover the celebration. The Berlin Zoo is going all out for this party, kind of like an MTV "Super Sweet Sixteen" bash, short only a live performance by Ciara. They made Knut a giant birthday cake containing 30 pounds of flour and 30 pounds of sugar. Slices of cake will be sold to benefit the zoo. Knut himself, like many, many child stars, has an eating disorder and will not be allowed to eat any of his own cake. (By the way, the eating disorder, child stardom and missing out on his own birthday festivities are just a few of the similarities he has with Lindsay Lohan, although, as always, she has the nicer breasts.) Zoo staffers say that Knut weighs 240lbs. and has been on a diet since July.

Knut has had one hell of a first year. Underweight and abandoned at birth(broken home, like Lindsay), Cute Knut was cared for by zoo staffers that fed him a bottle every 2 hours. His twin brother did not survive(much like Elvis' twin), but Knut prospered and gained notoriety. Like Lindsay Lohan, he appeared on the cover of Vanity Fair. Knut has generated an estimated $14 million for the Berlin Zoo, easily out-earning Lilo this year (but not her coke dealer).

The Berlin Zoo said that Knut is growing too large for their facilities and he will eventually have to move. They are considering offers from other European zoos that would be able to house Knut. I've heard he is also considering the Olsen Twins' penthouse that's on the market in New York.

All in all, I hope that Knut has a happy birthday and stays clean. Matt and I were invited to the festivities, but we just didn't have the frequent flier miles to get to Germany. One of these days we'll make it out there. One of these days.

Posted by Brendan at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

We can't bring you the entertainment news over the airwaves, but it doesn't hurt to keep tabs on the celebrities that shape our world. It has been an eventful couple of weeks for Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. They celebrated their one year anniversary on the 18th of November(it's easy to remember because it's in between Veteran's Day and Kennedy's death day). On Thursday, Katie accompanied Tom as he accepted an award from the Germans for taking risks in films. She debuted a new haircut and TomKat continued their love affair with the German people. Suri Cruise is also keeping busy. Last Sunday, Suri took in a private concert with the Spice Girls. The Spice Girls were practicing for their reunion tour when Suri made a surprise visit to their rehearsal. The Spice Girls treated her to a private performance, and the 1-year-old Suri reportedly danced along to the music.

Not to be outdone, the other major Hollywood family, Bradgelina, made some news too. First, Angelina Jolie was named the second-highest paid actress to Reese Witherspoon. Then, just this morning, Brad Pitt announced that he is going to build 150 homes in New Orleans. And not just regular homes. He has vowed that they will be environmentally friendly homes. Brad Pitt will design these houses to utilize solar and wind energy. What problem will Bradgelina solve next? Cancer? World Hunger? The Chicago Bulls scoring drought? Only time will tell. I, for one, thank my lucky stars that I live in an age with both a Bradgelina and a TomKat. Until next time....

Posted by Brendan at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Watching Rex Grossman perform capably the last few weeks has me believing that the kid has some true talent. I can't help but wonder what could've been if things had transpired differently. Join me, if you will, on a journey into a fanciful future where dreams dare to live.

August 7, 2024

(AP) - GROSSMAN LEADS CLASS OF 2024 INTO PRO FOOTBALL HALL OF FAME

Chicago Bears legend Rex Grossman was the biggest name inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame at Canton today. Grossman, known best for his rocket arm and his steady pocket presence, was a three-time NFL MVP. During his playing career, "Dead-Eye" Rex threw for over 40,000 yards. His pro career began on a shaky note, as he was injury-prone early on. But in 2006, Bears management, wanting to ease the growing pains of their franchise QB, went against their standard operating procedure and took a risk, signing troublesome receiver Terrell Owens. The move paid off, as Grossman and Owens quickly proved to be a match made in heaven. The duo led the Bears to a Super Bowl victory over the Indianapolis Colts. Never satisfied, Bears management refused to stand pat the following year. They went out and acquired wideout Randy Moss from the Oakland Raiders in exchange for a 4th-round draft pick. Moss and Owens went on to form the most dominant receiver duo in the history of the NFL, enabling Grossman to set all sorts of passing records. The Bears went on to win five out the next six Super Bowls, an era of dominance not expericenced in Chicago since the days of George "Papa Bear" Halas. "Grossman was simply the elite quarterback of our generation,' said career backup Tony Romo, who played for eight different NFL teams. "He was the standard by which we were all judged." Grossman was introduced by his son, Rex Jr.

Posted by Brendan at 11:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I was in Charleston, South Carolina this past weekend and I had an excellent time. Southern living is nice for a weekend. My only real complaint is that I got eaten alive by insects down there. My legs and arms got attacked by swarms of mosquitos, the little bastards. My right elbow must've been especially delicious because it has a number of bites. In fact, my elbow has so many red bumps it's in line to be the next spokesperson for ProActiv. I'll have to check when Jessica Simpson's contract expires.

I guess I shouldn't waste people's time writing about my mosquito bites. Hell, they've almost already disappeared. Plus, as far as ailments go, mosquito bites are far from the worst thing that could happen to you. I've suffered some minor injuries over the years. If there's anything I've learned from those experiences(in conjuction with the collective works of Johnny Knoxville) it's that watching others get hurt is better than getting hurt yourself. In that spirit, why not share a few memorable injuries that I witnessed firsthand? Don't expect to read about any severed heads or anything here. I'm sure any paramedic can tell a thousand stories that feature more gruesome injuries than I've seen. I just want to share a few vivid memories that center around someone getting hurt. Bloodshed can serve as a tremendous memory tool. That's why we remember the Alamo and even chose to honor it by naming a car rental company after it.

I stepped on a nail in my youth and I once gashed my forehead open on the corner of a dresser. That was the most I ever saw myself bleed as a kid. But the first time I can recall being shocked by an amount of blood, it was a fellow Little Leaguer that was spurting the vital fluid. It was nearing dusk and they were trying to get the entire game in before the sun completley disappeared. I was on deck, with runners on first and second. I can't remember if it was a close game or not, but for dramatic effect, let's say it was a close game, we were attempting a comeback and we were facing our archrivals. (In reality, it was probably a blowout, little leaguers don't really have archrivals and most the kids on either team probably were more interested in postgame pizza.) In any regard, you only get a handful of game at-bats and I valued every single plate appearance. Here's what transpired: The kid batting in front of me lines a base hit into the right field gap and the runners begin to round the bases. The center fielder scoops up the ball and fires it in the direction of the second baseman, who has his glove ready to field the throw.
Unfortunately for the second baseman, visability was low. The baseball cracked him right in the kisser and his mouth and nose erupted. I could see the red mist from the on-deck cirlce. Everyone, including myself, rushed to his aid. The game was called. Blood was pouring out at an astonishing rate. The kid ended up being fine and the cut was relatively small. But I'll never forget the amount of blood I saw that day, the way it ruined the game and how it cost me an at-bat. An interesting side note: the second baseman that day later became one of my best friends and remains so to this day. Writing this reminds me that he owes me an at-bat. Maybe I'll make him take me to Stella's batting cages this weekend and buy me a token.

The next injury that stands out happened on our nation's birthday, the Fourth of July. Well, it was actually July 3rd, at the annual downtown fireworks celebration. I was a sophomore or junior in high school and my friends and I had packed a ton of beer and hopped on the train to get crazy amongst the masses. There was a large contigent from my high school that had secured an area for us to congregate and drink heavily. The party itself is a distant, foggy memory, but there is one instance that stands out in my mind. At some point, a scuffle took place between several of the football players from my school and another group of dudes. I wasn't involved in this fight, but a friend of mine had thrown a few punches and apparently landed them. He stumbled up to me at shortly after the altercation holding his right hand. "I think I broke my hand," he said to me. "How does it look?" I lied to him and told him it looked alright, probably just sprained. In actuality, the hand he was holding resembled a balloon animal. It was swollen up to triple its size. Needless to say, he was fitted for a cast the following day.

The final injury I'll mention here is one that I wasn't actually around to witness. But the scarred appendage left a permanant mark on my brain. One of my college roomates was working construction for the summer when he had a 2 ton dumpster dropped on his big toe. Amazingly, the toe wasn't severed. But it was comically flattened. He came back to school the next week, revealing a big toe that looked like a smashed banana. He had to walk with a cane for the next six months or so, but he became skilled at grabbing the remote with the cane so we didn't have to get off the couch. Advantage= us lazy guys.

None of these injuries did any permanent damage. But they showed me that the pain of others can become fond memories for me. Just as I'm sure that those Carolina mosquitos are reminiscing, at my expense, about how good my Illinois elbow tasted.

Posted by Brendan at 09:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My couch is too comfortable. I know that sounds like blasphemy, but it's the truth. Now, to be clear, I'm not saying that my couch is the greatest couch of all time(I've rested on more comfortable sofas), but it is too relaxing for my purposes. Lately, I can't lie down on it without dozing off. And it's throwing off my whole sleep cycle. Yesterday, for example, I came home, ate a burrito for dinner, and laid down to settle into the second half of "Talladega Nights" when I fell asleep. When I arose, I was smack dab in the middle of some dog sledding movie starring Paul Walker. (By the way, "Eight Below" is an inspirational journey that is based on a true story. Have a box of tissues at your side should you decide to pop this tale of triumph into your DVD player. I myself was so moved that I am in the process of securing a team of Huskies that might just save me the hassle of public transportation come winter.)
I realize I sound crazy for complaining about an inviting piece of furniture. In reality, it's not something that has me feeling unsettled. It was just a vehicle to let me sing the praises of my couch. Have you hugged your couch today?
Life is short, as Phil Rizzuto learned Tuesday.

Rizzuto is most famous for shouting "Holy Cow" in the same way as Harry Caray. It was Harry's catchphrase first, but Rizzuto claimed that he had always uttered that phrase even before he was a broadcaster. I find it hard to believe that a ballplayer wasn't full out swearing in the 1940s Yankees clubhouse, but that was his story and he stuck with it. Personally, I often used the phrases "Bootylicious" and "I don't think you're ready for this jelly" long before I heard them popularized by Beyonce. But, in the name of professionalism, I have stopped peppering my daily speech with either because I feel they should rightfully be associated with Beyonce. If only Rizzuto would've shown Harry the same courtesy. Now that I think about it, that Destiny's Child lyric would've made a nice home run call:
"Sosa hits one deep, way back, I don't think you're ready for this jelly, it's gone, Home Run!"

Last week, White Sox fans learned what loyal Cubs fans have known for a long time: Steve Stone is the best color commentator in the business. I'd be happy to have him on the air in Chicago again. I was raised listening to Harry Caray and Steve Stone call Cubs games. The majority of my baseball knowledge came from Steve Stone. And most everything I know about partying I learned from Harry. Harry's got almost ten years(next spring) seniority on Rizzuto of using "Holy Cow" in the afterlife as well.

The ten year anniversary of the death of another famous party animal is approaching this December. That of Chris Farley. He probably won't get the tribute that Elvis does for his 30th, but maybe I'll lie down and watch "Tommy Boy". Hopefully I don't fall asleep.

Posted by Brendan at 01:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I attempted some revenge googling today. I walked to the “El�? this morning in a sleet and snowstorm and got soaked. As I was trying to hurry under the cover of the train station, some lady got in my way and asked me if I had a minute for the environment. I did not. I was in the midst of being crushed by stinging frozen rain; so I didn’t even have a minute to berate her for asking me, much less aid her cause. Not that I’m against protecting the environment. This just wasn’t the time. I don’t discriminate against causes. I refuse to stop on the street for any of them. Unless the tree-hugger asking happens to be attractive, which was certainly not the case today. Plus, the fact that it’s snowing in April doesn’t exactly give credence the whole greenhouse gas effect. The millisecond that it took to put a swim move on the environmentalist chick caused me to miss the train. I was less than pleased, so I thought I’d take it out on the leader of the cause, Al Gore.

Unfortunately, my efforts were for naught. I tried googling “Al Gore SUV�?, hoping that a picture of Gore in a gas-guzzling Escalade might pop up. No dice. I also tried “Al Gore NASCAR�?, thinking that he might’ve driven the pace car back in the 90’s. No such luck. I stumbled upon an old biography of the former Vice President; and it turns out that I was somewhat misinformed about his passion for the environment.

Since “An Inconvenient Truth�? came out, I got very sick of seeing Gore everywhere. I didn’t need to see his ego being stroked by Leonardo DiCaprio at the Oscars. I assumed that Al Gore was “Johnny Come Lately�? to the whole global warming cause. But I found an old biography that was written before the Toyota Prius became the “it�? car in Hollywood. It turns out Gore’s always been somewhat passionate about the earth. Good for him. He is also a former roommate of Tommy Lee Jones.

Because of his wife Tipper, I can’t think about Al Gore without thinking of 80’s rock. Tipper, of course, is famous for censoring music. “Ode to Tipper Gore�? was the last track on an album by the hair band “Warrant�?. It wasn’t a song, it was just lead singer Jani Lane yelling swear words for 2 ½ minutes. In grade school, I thought that was just about the greatest thing in the world. For that reason, the phrase “Ode to Tipper Gore�? will forever be stuck in my head.

I didn’t really come to any conclusion in my 9 minutes of environmental study today. All I know is, if our very existence is threatened on a global level, I can rest comfortably in the knowledge that Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck are around to save us, just like they did in “Armageddon�?.

Posted by Brendan at 10:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Mary Van Daele, my friend and co-worker, wrote about her appreciation for MTV programming when she guest-blogged for Steve this week. It got me thinking about how much MTV I've been watching lately. It seems I might have an addiction. I have no problem spending an entire Saturday or Sunday watching the mindless, yet, fascinating lineup of programs that they have to offer. NFL Sundays and college football Saturdays are done for the year, and it's cold enough to validate staying indoors all day. (Not that I wouldn't spend a day on my couch in July, but play along with me.) Right now, MTV has a full schedule of excellent shows in constant rotation. Mary mentioned "Maui Fever", which is definitely on my radar. It follows the daily life of a group of young party animals in Hawaii. It was an acquired taste for me. Initially, I had trouble identifying with the characters. A few short weeks later, I was contemplating whether Cheyne should leave his girlfriend Rachel for ex-girlfriend Anna. (Anna is hotter, but Rachel seems more stable.) They've got a great central character in Chaunte. She's conniving and underhanded; and she makes no excuses for it. (Not to mention that she has a body that is, to quote hotelier Paris Hilton, "hot".)
My favorite of the new batch of MTV shows might be "Engaged and Underage". It's a tremendous little feel-good show about 18, 19 and 20 year olds that are getting married. The girls are usually virgins that are waiting until marriage and the guys are getting married just to have sex. The best episodes feature families that don't get along. A typical episode might feature one family that is ultra-religious and somewhat weird. They are normally over-the-top excited to welcome their 19-year-old's fiance into the family, to a creepy degree. Then, if the viewers are fortunate, the other family is against the idea of their 19-year-old son or daughter getting married so young. In one such episode, the guy's family(creepy religious) talked the girl(19-year-old whose family opposed marriage) into letting her future mother-in-law and sister-in-law give her a bikini wax on camera. It was strange footage, to say the least. Another episode featured a 20-year-old guy who was engaged to an attractive blond who was saving herself for marriage. He spent an alarming portion of the episode wrestling with his two junior high-age brothers, while paying very little attention to her. While she painted their new house, he spent time devising a plan for he and his brothers to spend a night sleeping in a different room of the house every night until he moved out. Each show is odder than the next. All in all-it's spectacular.
I'm also closely following "The Hills"(Heidi seems naive) as well as "The Real World: Denver"(Brooke's crazy). I've caught a couple episodes of "Bam's Unholy Union", but it hasn't hooked me in the way that "Viva La Bam" did once upon a time. I am catching up on "Two-A-Days". I enjoyed the first season, but fell behind of late. "Juvies" is good for a laugh every once in a while. I liked when the judge asked one kid if he knew why he was in trouble and he said, "because I threw a chair at my teacher." And the judge said, "That's right."

Man, I just analyzed the hell out of MTV. I might need to get some fresh air. Maybe I'll ease myself off of the MTV by switching over to FUSE for a while. It'll be kind of like methadone. Or maybe I just need to watch some college basketball and reclaim my masculinity.

Posted by Brendan at 04:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A quick celebrity obituary out of South Florida last week:

R Kelly's appendix was born in 1967 on the South Side of Chicago. It resided in the singer's lower body cavity for the next 40 years until it suddenly exploded in Miami last week. R. Kelly's appendix is survived by 2 kidneys, a liver and an active bladder (see sex tape). It dedicated its life to collecting gum, pistachio shells and other assorted undesirables that were swallowed by the singer. The appendix appeared in R. Kelly's music video "Bump N' Grind", grinding against the posterior of a female dancer. In addition, R.'s appendix cameoed in the videos for "The World's Greatest" and "Ignition (The Remix)". It also directed the videos for Parts 2,3 and 5 of the wildly popular "Trapped in the Closet" series. The appendix often referred to that period behind the camera as "his Sistine Chapel".
In 2003, R Kelly's appendix was called to testify against R. Kelly's bladder in an underage sex case. It refused to take the stand. The case has yet to go to trial.
R. Kelly's appendix will be placed in formaldehyde inside a glass jar. Visitation has yet to be announced.

Posted by Brendan at 07:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

One thing that sucks about living alone is that you never wake up to find breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen. Nothing is better than bacon and eggs waiting for your consumption. I never get around to making myself breakfast, besides the occasional bowl of cereal. I am currently in possession of a box of Fruity Pebbles. But no milk. Dammit. I think that Fruity Pebbles might be my favorite cereal of all time. I know it would be more mature to choose Total or Honey Bunches of Oats, but I can't live a lie. I don't like them because Fred Flintstone is the spokesman or because of the entertaining, non-challenging games on the back of the box. I've based my decision solely on taste and texture. For me, there is just something utterly delicious about the way the pebbles taste. Plus, the bright colors can illuminate even the gloomiest mornings. And if you eat too much and get sick, you puke a rainbow. It's magical.

For most people, the first cereal you are introduced to is Cheerios. It's one of the first solid foods you eat that isn't manufactured by the Gerber people. I like Cheerios, but it's a cereal that leaves you wanting more. Bland and boring is what comes to mind when I think of regular Cheerios. (This is in no way an indictment of Honey Nut Cheerios, which are a taste sensation.) Unfortunately, up until a certain age, Cheerios are all you know.
That's when advertisers come to your rescue. You've hit age 4 or 5 and you're ready to branch out from Sesame Street or Mister Rogers or whatever PBS shows you've been locked into since you learned to sit upright on your own. The commercial breaks during Saturday morning cartoons open up a whole new world to you. You're bombarded with ads for toys, Disney movies and, yes, sugar-filled cereals. That's about the time I got hooked on Froot Loops. That Toucan Sam was a master salesman. I stuck with the Loops for several years. Fruity Pebbles were also in the mix, as were Frosted Flakes, Cap'n Crunch, Trix and several other flash-in-the-pan cereals that never made it past their first year on the market. The most memorable of those, for me, was Nerds Cereal. Nerds was a high-fructose concoction patterned after the candy of the same name. I became immediately infatuated with Nerds, but it wasn't to be. It didn't last more than a few months on the supermarket pageant. I took it hard. The weaning process was reminiscent of a scene out of "Trainspotting". I held out some hope that the treat might resurface. But, alas, the world wasn't ready for Nerds Cereal.

There were occasionally some circumstances that prevented me from achieving my morning sugar high. The summer before I was to enter the 3rd grade, my cousin and I were sent to spend a few weeks with my aunt and uncle in Boston. Upon our arrival, my aunt informed us that we could choose a few cereals that she would get for us to enjoy during our stay. After a brief conference with my cousin, we compiled a draft board containing our favorite saccharine-laden choices of the moment, complete with contingencies. (E.g. "If they don't have Cocoa Puffs, then we are willing to accept Count Chocula. Cocoa Krispies should only be considered as a last resort.) That's when a harsh reality was thrust upon us. My aunt notified us that this was a healthy cereal house. After the initial shock wore off, we all agreed on Kix, just as the commercial predicted we would. And all was well.

There were also times that I convinced myself that I liked Wheaties, despite the unpleasant taste. This occurred in junior high, when I was trying to be grown-up, and Jordan was on the box cover. (For the record: I also drank Gatorade, bought Nikes and wore Hanes undershirts. Hell, I would've purchased Dentu-Creme if MJ were in the ads.)

Luckily, advertising doesn't affect me much anymore. Nowadays, I choose food strictly due to taste. Now, if you'll excuse me, something is telling me that Carmen Electra would be attracted to me if I get Taco Bell for dinner.

Posted by Brendan at 07:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I saw a story today that China had just completed the largest shopping mall in the world. It's the length of six football fields, which is easy to cover in one day if you're Devin Hester. I'd always assumed that the Mall of America in Minnesota was the largest in the world. But it turns out it's not even the largest in the U.S. California and Pennsylvania each have a mall with more retail space. India, China, Turkey, Malaysia, the Philippines and Canada all have bigger malls than anywhere in the U.S. C'mon, we can't beat out Turkey? They share a name with a cold cut.
I'd wager that, despite the smaller sizes, our malls are much better than any mall in any other country. I mean, India's foodcourt certainly can't serve beef. And I can't imagine anything worse than a meatless foodcourt. I'm going to go ahead and assume that the Mall of Malaysia doesn't have a Pottery Barn. And Canada? Get real. I'd imagine that half their retail space somehow involves the sale of Moosehead or hockey pucks.
The Mall of America is the busiest mall in the world; the O'Hare of malls. They have 40 million people come through every year. It's got an amusement park, an aquarium and a flight simulator. It used to have a restaurant called Hulk Hogan's Pastamania that closed down. I'm not sure why. To me, nothing says high-quality, authentic Italian food like the Hulkster.
I won't be visiting the Mall of America anytime soon, but I do have some shopping to do. After getting dragged around malls as a kid, I've taken to avoiding them. In those days, I dreaded visiting deparment store after department store, rarely getting to stop in the sports paraphernalia store that had everything a young sports fan could want. I can remember staring at the poster that featured Walter Payton, Michael Jordan and Andre Dawson, all in tuxedos, with the title "Chicago Class". Sadly, I don't believe I ever saved up enough allowance to get that poster. But don't cry for me, I did have "The Black and Blues Brothers", which featured the '85 Bears offensive line. That was the baddest poster to have in my day.
So I'll be heading out to Oakbrook or Yorktown at some point this weekend, which I'm not looking forward to. At least it will be less crowded than the Mall of China.

Posted by Brendan at 01:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Just finished watching another fine episode of "Friday Night Lights" on NBC. It really is an excellent show. It has plenty of drama and then it adds football to the mix. Pete Zimmerman, my friend and co-worker, and I were able to come to the conclusion that Lyla the cheerleader is really hot. I know, we are really out on a limb. However, she might only be the second hottest cheerleader in primetime. "Heroes" has a damn fine cheerleader of its own. I could watch her run around in a panic all day. That NBC promo that whispers, "Save the Cheerleader, Save the World" is what got me watching "Heroes". I'm not exactly sure why, but it piqued my curiosity about the show. I haven't come across a tagline that compelling since "Where's the Beef?"
Let me get back to "Friday Night Lights" for a moment. I think it has the potential to be a crucial part of my television watching week for years to come. "The O.C." has been filling my need for drama the past few years, and it is still a high-quality show. But it seems that the series may be winding down, due to the main actors all eyeing movie careers. Unfortunately, that's the procedure for teen dramas. "Beverly Hills 90210" begat "Dawson's Creek", which begat "The O.C". Eventually, they all come to an end. How can you stop a young James Van Der Beek from leaving to conquer Hollywood? Fact of the matter is: you can't. You can only reflect on lessons that we all learned along the way. Is there another "O.C." on the horizon? Only time will tell. I suppose there is "One Tree Hill", on the CW. I've never really watched it before catching an episode last week. I will say that Sophia Bush is one of the hottest women in the free world. Chad Michael Murray gave her up for one night with Paris Hilton? That's like ditching your Lamborghini Gallado(Akon reference) for a joyride on the CTA(get it?, everyone has ridden the CTA. Paris Hilton jokes are so rich.) Chad Michael Murray's character is a basketball star on "One Tree Hill". In the episode I watched, he was on the free throw line with no time left on the clock. He ended up missing the free throw on purpose to help out his teammate that had promised to shave points in order to settle a gambling debt. It was a nicely contrived situation, but Chad's hair had more product in it than any basketball player since Christian Laettner circa 1991. It just didn't ring true. Matt and I are attending the Bulls game tomorrow night. If I see Andres Nocioni styling his 'do with Vidal Sassoon Hair Cement between quarters, I'll go Pistons fan on him. I don't think Noc would ever do such a thing, so I don't feel I have to worry.

Posted by Brendan at 08:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I read today that there is a protest in Chicago this Sunday at 2pm. That's poor timing for a protest, considering they'll be competing against the Bears game. Parking is gonna suck. Although, I have to figure that the majority of protesters, regardless of the cause, use public transportation. Or, at the very least, they carpool. The purpose of the gathering is to commemorate the death of that anti-war protester that burnt himself to death near the Kennedy earlier this month. The guy set up a video camera, doused himself with gasoline, wrapped an American flag around his head and set himself on fire. That's hard core. I bet that somewhere in Oregon there was a hippie on a 3-day hunger strike that totally got upstaged when his girlfriend heard about this.
Sad thing for the guy is, outside the protesting community, it didn't really make headlines. At least I didn't hear about it. Of course, that only means it wasn't on the Fox News Chicago tease in between reruns of "The Simpsons" and "Malcolm in the Middle".
There has got to be a better way to protest than to burn yourself alive, also known as self-immolation.(That's right, I learned something today. Well, I actually learned 2 things. The other was that Axe Body Spray is not useful in removing the smell from gym shoes. It just covers it up. But that was a completely separate learning experience.)
The first major problem with burning yourself is the intense pain. I'd recommend something less excruciating, like maybe shaving without cream. It hurts, but you can then move on with your day.
Another thing this guy did wrong is to choose a protest that would kill him. Big mistake. If he only got maimed, he gets to be around to enjoy the fruits of his labor, plus garner some sweet sympathy and hero-worship from female demonstrators.
Worst of all, the poor dude didn't even get the news coverage he hoped for. Oh, well. At least he taped it. Maybe he'll make the cut for Jackass 3.

Posted by Brendan at 07:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I've got a new foe. I haven't had many straight up enemies in my life. But there have been a few. There was a kid that used to hold my head in the snow in grade school. He wouldn't beat up my buddy because he had a protective big brother that would've killed him. I have no brother. So he concentrated on bullying me. In the long run, I feel it toughened me up. Plus, the snow facial probably helped tighten my pores. Little did he know he was helping me fight acne. In high school, there was a guy that was always threatening to shoot me, mostly because I was a smart ass. This was pre-Columbine, so I always called his bluff. Lucky for me, he was bluffing. In college, there was a crazy, angry guy in a wheelchair named Lil' Penny(yes, he shared a name with the Chris Rock character from the old Anfernee Hardaway commercials). He used to always try and cut me off on the sidewalk around campus. I mostly just tried to avoid him, because it's not a good look get in an altercation with the disabled. My new nemesis is the guy that works at my CTA stop on Saturday mornings before the show. The first train on Saturday mornings hits my stop at anywhere from 4:59 to 5:05 in the morning. I'm there every weekend at about 4:45 just to make sure I don't miss it. The guy working there keeps the door to the station locked right until the very last minute. It doesn't matter that I'm there week in and week out to get the same train. He doesn't care. He likes to lord his one source of power over me. It's not just pure cruelty that motivates him. It's also ignorance, as far as I can tell. No matter how much I plead with him, he can't seem to remember that there's a train scheduled for the top of the hour. He forgets every single week. It's quite frustrating. It's like playing "This is Your Life" with Charlton Heston. Last week, he didn't bother meandering over to unlock the entrance until the train was approaching. I ran up the stairs, just barely catching the train. That was a fortunate break. For had I missed that train, I would've almost certainly been jailed for assault and battery on a city employee. This all probably sounds slightly paranoid, the notion that he is focusing his torment solely on yours truly. But it's true. For two straight weeks in late August, attractive women with suitcases showed up to take the train to the airport. The dude immediately leapt from his perch to unlock the door. Well, I guess I can't blame him for that. They were both quite hot. Way too good-looking to not have someone driving them to the airport.
I guess I'm either gonna have to lodge a complaint or switch to taking the bus. Either option is probably better than punching him. Or maybe I'll just wait for winter and hold his head in the snow. I think he'd find that it can be quite refreshing.

Posted by Brendan at 07:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I had a very good steak sandwich from a place near me the other day. It usually doesn't occur to me to get a steak sandwich instead of a burger(which is also good at my local place) but it's a nice change of pace. My favorite steak sandwich, though, is the breaded steak from a place called Casciani's in Countryside. Actually, it might be in Hodgkins-well, it's right on the edge of LaGrange, Countryside and Hodgkins. They had a vote a few years ago about whether or not to change the name of Hodgkins to avoid association with the disease. It can only be so long before the same fate befalls Anal Warts, VA. Just kidding, I don't believe such a town exists. And if it does, their tourism business must be pitiful. Stupid joke aside, Hodgkins must've decided to keep the name, because I haven't heard any different. I like that they decided to stick with it. Besides, they can't be the only town in America named after a disease. I bet Lou Gehrig has a town named after him somewhere, and that's good company. I have to guess there are towns named after the Iron Horse and other great Americans, because I know for sure that there's a town called Chevy Chase, MD. I know it because I saw the President giving a speech there recently. I forget the subject of the speech, but the "Chevy Chase, MD" television graphic greatly undercut his message, at least for me. Going back to Lou Gehrig's Disease momentarily, I'm surprised the naming rights have yet to be sold. MLB sells the rights to everything else. If Comiskey Park can turn into US Cellular Field, why couldn't we have "Pepsi presents Lou Gehrig's Disease"? Hell, the White Sox even agreed to start games at 7:11pm in an agreement with 7/11 stores. In the spirit of competition, I'm sure the Cubs could get Mark Prior sponsored by a Walgreens pharmacy. God knows he has enough ailments. Speaking of injuries, it sucks about Mike Brown going down for the Bears. I know he's a key piece of the defense, but he is very injury prone. Every season, you kind of get the sense you're working on borrowed time as far as Brown being healthy. It was just a matter of time. I think that's part of the reason the Bears stocked up on defensive backs this past offseason. Hopefully everyone steps up. For my part, I'm gonna take the whole defensive backfield out for steak sandwiches. I just hope Ricky Manning Jr. doesn't call anyone a nerd.

Posted by Brendan at 08:37 PM | Permalink

I don't know much about world affairs, but the nuclear war stuff piques my interest. I'm unsure about what is really happening in North Korea. From what I can tell, nobody is sure that Kim Jong il and the North Koreans ever conducted a successful underground nuclear test. It all seems sketchy. All I really know is that the North Koreans claim to have performed one good detonation. Maybe they did. But I'm not inclined to believe it. Kim Jong il seems like a wannabe who yearns to be the leader of a legitimate superpower. And getting in the atom splitting game is his ticket. But he could be bluffing. He's like the kid in high school who claims to be nailing a really hot girlfriend that lives in another state. But nobody's ever met her. Kim Jong, or KJ as he likes to be called(I've heard), is just trying to lose his nuclear virginity to impress the cool kids(China and the U.S.). He even claimed to do it on a Sunday night, when he knows that the most popular TV shows are on to distract everyone. Of course you could say you conducted a nuclear test in while everyone at the Pentagon is watching "Desperate Housewives". I watched almost all of "Desperate Housewives" on Sunday night, all because I saw a promo that showed Eva Longoria half dressed. Kind of pathetic, I know. I didn't watch it straight, I was flipping between the baseball playoff and the NFL game, but still. I watched 40+ minuntes of poor storylines just to get to that scene, and it turns out I saw everything there was to see in the promo. I hope never to see that show again. Felicity Huffman never should've done that movie where she plays a she-male, because now I can't see her without thinking about how much she resembles a she-male. Well, I lasted about half a paragraph writing about world affairs before I wandered back into pop culture. But it was still enough to fill a personal quota for me. I can now write about rappers and football for the next year secure in the knowledge that I did write one blog about North Korea and the state of the world. Coming soon to Brendan's Corner: How the reunion of Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie affects our collective consciousness.

Posted by Brendan at 08:44 PM | Permalink

In between Bears games, October baseball fills the void. Man, did the Twins get crushed. Swept by the A's. They died more suddenly than Kirby Puckett. They were the hottest team in the world at the season's end. In the playoffs, it was a different story. They fell to pieces, as Velvet Revolver would say. I wasn't exactly rooting for them, I was just surprised to see it. If I were a Sox fan, I would've enjoyed every second. Gold glover Torii Hunter gave away Game 2 by lunging for a ball 5 feet past his reach. And Johan Santana lost at home for the first time in 2 months. I haven't seem a team come apart at the seams like that since Leonardo DiCaprio's squad in "The Basketball Diaries". Speaking of DiCaps (as I like to call him), he has that new Scorcese movie out today. "The Departed" got 4 stars from Richard Roeper in the Suntimes. (He's not Ebert, but it's the closest we have for now.) I'm looking forward to seeing that one. It's got the greatest cast you could imagine: DiCaprio, Jack Nicholson, Matt Damon and Mark Wahlberg. Although I heard that Damon narrowly beat out Tom Green for the role.
As for baseball, I'm hoping for a Tigers-Dodgers World Series, although it's not looking good for the Dodgers. As long as the Yankees don't win it all, I'll be content.
Go Bears.

Posted by Brendan at 07:55 PM | Permalink

I walked down Michigan Ave. for a stretch after work last night, partly because it was nice out and it's right down the street from my building. But mainly because I heard John Madden declare it the "greatest street in the world" on Sunday Night Football. It is a pleasant street to walk down, with all the commerce and the hot women to ogle. I have a hard time believing that Madden spends a hell of a lot of time on Michigan Ave when he's in town. I don't picture him prancing down to H&M to pick up a pair of low-rider jeans at a reasonable price(although he certainly has the hips for it). But I guess it's hard for me to imagine Madden existing anywhere outside of a football stadium or the "Madden Cruiser" bus he travels on.
I occasionally will walk part of the way home before hopping on some mode of public transportation. It's really my only consistent form of exercise, sadly. Once in a while I run around my neighborhood, but I usually lose interest quickly. It's probably about time I join a gym.
I stopped at the Virgin Megastore to browse the virgins, but it turns out they only have CDs. I am hooked on purchasing CDs, even in the midst of the itunes revolution. It's one of my few addictions, unless you count huffing paint thinner, which I don't. That I consider a hobby.
Have you seen that Gap commercial where Audrey Hepburn(I think?) dances to AC/DC? It's ruined "Back in Black" for me, because I can't get that spastic dancing out of my head. I don't know how that's supposed to sell black pants, because who would want to dance like that? Although I have spoken to a few girls who really like that commercial. So, perhaps I'm missing something. Heck, maybe that's what drew John Madden down to Michigan Ave.( I said "Heck" instead of "Hell" because that's what Madden would've said: "Tough Actin' Tinactin, it gets athlete's foot the heck outta your way.") "Thunderstruck" was briefly ruined for me last year, being a Cubs fan, but now I like it again, so I'm sure things will work out for "Back in Black" and I.
Well, it's not nice out tonight, so I'm not going to walk at all. Plus, I'm gonna hurry home and rewatch "Lost" if possible. I just started watching for the first time and I am confused as hell. Probably as confused as anyone trying to find a point to what I've written here.

Posted by Brendan at 07:25 PM | Permalink

I've got pretty much nothing exciting to do to in my free time. Right now, I'm sitting around listening to Nirvana by myself. You'd think I could find something fresh to listen to, but, no. There's a ton of new music out that I haven't experienced. Oh, well. Usually Nirvana something I'd listen to if I was depressed, but that's not the case. Nevermind just happened to be sitting out and I slipped it in.(If I were Michael Scott from The Office, I'd add an "That's what she said"). It's good music for anytime listening; probably why it sold 20 million copies. But it does bring you down a little bit, which isn't a bad thing. It's kind of like the blues for people that don't listen to the blues. Kurt Cobain was one dark dude. And he took it all the way, with a shotgun. You have to respect his follow through. I'm not saying it's something to aspire to, but kudos to him on securing his own legacy. Too bad he can't be around to enjoy it. Dave Grohl is the one reaping the benefits. Grohl is a talented guy in his own right. I like the Foo Fighters and Queens of the Stone Age and the 22 other bands he is currently touring with. Every once in a while, Dave has to secretly think about how well everything worked out for him personally. If I were Pearl Jam's drummer, and I saw what happened to Grohl's life, I'd constantly be trying to depress Eddie Vedder. "Geez, Eddie, doesn't life just seem meaningless sometimes? Want some heroin?" But maybe that's just me.
I keep looking at the title I attached to this piece, "Listening Party of 1" and it's reminding me of the TV show "Party of Five".(That's right, I have the attention span of a cocker spaniel. Damn you, MTV.) I noticed that almost the entire Party of Five have active careers right now. Scott Wolf, aka "Bailey", has that new ABC show "The Nine" about bank robbery victims and how it affects their lives. Personally, a bank robbery wouldn't affect me at all, unless the bank gave away my money. But I'm sure the show has some added drama. Neve Campbell does indie movies after the "Scream" franchise faded. Lacey Chabert, whom all guys predicted would be hot when she grew up, grew up hot. She was in "Mean Girls" and a couple other teen movies. Jennifer Love Hewitt, admittedly, isn't one of the titular "party of five", but was still a major character on the show.(Yes, I got a kick out of using the word "titular" in a sentence about Jennifer Love Hewitt). I think she still has that Ghost Whisperer show. As far as I know, it's about a lady with huge boobs who whispers to ghosts. Check it out. The most successful cast member has been Charlie, which I never would've guessed. "Lost" is a juggernaut. Matthew Fox is his name. I'm gonna try to add "Lost" to my TV watching schedule this year. I just hope I can find the time.

Posted by Brendan at 07:21 PM | Permalink

I like getting my Simpsons fix on Fox 32 most weeknights at 10. Problem is, of late, that they only rotate about 20 episodes. They stopped showing all the classic episodes from back in the day. I like the new ones, too, but I don't need to see them twice a month. This may seem like a really stupid thing to complain about. But I'm not the only Simpson's geek to notice. My buddy Jim Ruffatto, who works with me, noticed the same disturbing trend. And I know there's a ton of other Simpsons fans who have probably noticed. Hell, "The Simpsons" consistently beats out at least one of the local news broadcasts in the ratings. I realize Fox would rather sell the DVDs from the earlier seasons than give the entertainment away for free. But it doesn't hurt to whet the appetite of the consumer every once in a while. A generation grew up on daily Simpsons reruns-it solidified the popularity of the show. It wouldn't kill Fox to show them all.

"Worst Blog Ever"

Posted by Brendan at 08:01 PM | Permalink

At the risk of becoming a one-dimensional blog, I've got another rap music posting. But it's only because one of my all-time favorites is in the news:

http://billboard.com/bbcom/news/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1002986556

Yes, Lil' Wayne's been arrested on drug charges. I hope you were sitting down.

I've been a big fan of Lil' Wayne's for several years, and he's finally getting the recognition he deserves of late. This arrest shouldn't hold him back. One of the advantages of a career in hip-hop is that being arrested is a positive thing for your future.

I recently read that Lil' Wayne was taking classes online to get his college degree. When asked why, Lil' Wayne gave a response that I try to quote whenever possible:

"I never wanna die without learnin' shit."- Lil' Wayne (circa 2006)

Maybe this drug arrest will be a lesson. But I certainly hope not.

I promise my next blog will be about a completely different topic: R&B(just kidding)

Posted by Brendan at 07:52 PM | Permalink

Time for another addition to Brendan's Corner. I was speaking with a lovely young lady at a party recently who visits mattdahl.com often. She remarked on the infrequent nature of Brendan's Corner. She was damn right. My neglect doesn't stem from a lack of caring. I do appreciate Matt setting up this space for me to blog. It's just that I'm an inexperienced blogger. I'm getting my feet wet, hopefully soon I'll be a regular blogger. Because I feel that when I do blog, I blog with gusto.

Now to the point of my blog: A big month for rap music. For those of you still reading after the last sentence, thank you. I'm excited about 3 albums in particular this August. One is Lupe Fiasco, whose single, "Kick Push", Matt and I have featured several times on the show. The next is Outkast, who will hopefully once again assert their dominance over the world. They have a major-release movie coming out in conjunction with the album, which should be cool. The third is Obie Trice's sophomore effort. Obie is a talented rapper who was recently shot in the head while driving on the highway in Detroit. I liked his first album, Cheers, and look forward to hearing this one. Especially if he has a song describing what it's like to get shot in the head.
I'll try and update this blog with the release dates for anyone that cares.

Posted by Brendan at 08:09 PM | Permalink

From Entertainment Tonight's website:

Baby Suri Spotted!

July 18, 2006

While the world continues to anxiously await a glimpse of SURI, TOM CRUISE and KATIE HOLMES's 3-month-old baby, US Weekly reports that at least one person has had the pleasure of gazing upon the Hollywood golden child.

According to the latest issue of the magazine, on stands Friday, the couple's good friend, "King of Queens" star LEAH REMINI, says she actually met the young tyke several weeks ago.

"She's a newborn and normal size!" Leah tells US Weekly. Another pal is quoted as saying that Suri is "a cross between the two -- [with] dark, straight hair and dark eyes."
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Spotted by another celebrity scientologist. Leah Remini was on Saved by the Bell long before King Of Queens. She played Zack Morris' girlfriend for the summer while the entire cast got jobs at the beach. Then the bitch dumped him. Luckily, it led him back to Kelly.

Posted by Brendan at 07:55 PM | Permalink

I'm watching the Home Run Derby right now. My hope is that Lance Berkman doesn't advance. He is one of my most hated baseball players, not only because he plays for the Astros and often crushes the Cubs, but because, frankly, he seems like a prick. You might think that since I'm a die-hard Cub fan, I'd be rooting for Jermaine Dye to fail. Fact is, I like Jermaine Dye. He might just be my favorite player on the Sox. I just respect the way he plays and the way he carries himself. I wouldn't mind if he won this contest tonight.
I saw that Keith Richards is ready to tour again after his coconut-related mishap. I was disappointed when the tour got delayed because my favorite band of all time, Guns N' Roses, was scheduled to open for the Stones at a couple of European destinations. Not that I was gonna fly out there, but it'd be nice to get Axl on a big stage during one of his brief stretches of sanity. I hope he follows through on his promise that Chinese Democracy, his long-awaited album, will come out later this year. This isn't the first time he's set a release date, but for some reason I believe it this time. Of course, that might just be the Cub fan optimism in me. (By the way, the Cubs are only 14.5 games out.)
Well, Jermaine Dye is looking solid, while A.J Pierzynski does commentary. A.J. actually seems fairly personable, so I'd better go and find the mute button before I start respecting him as well.

Posted by Brendan at 07:44 PM | Permalink

Welcome to Brendan's Corner. Here, Brendan has the capability to fill us in on his innermost thoughts and feelings. So sit back, and hold on tight, it should be interesting.

Posted by Matt Dahl at 08:52 PM | Permalink