Monday, April 30, 2007
  We Must Protect This House...And Wash This Guy's Mouth out With Soap

He said he was having a "great...time" at the game. You think he had a "great...time" cleaning out his desk?

A TLBR classic...I can never get enough of this. It may have been a Tony introduction.

It's better than the American version, trust me.

Got this coming in the mail this week. Classic.

"It's just that Ed doesn't have too many friends..."
"Can I get any of you...a drink?"

You used to laugh about, everybody that was hanging out.

Yeah, well, I still am.

Good night everyone...will be back with some prose at some point this week.

yh&os, I remain...

Thursday, April 26, 2007
  Ruminations on Rude, Thoughtless Little Pigs and Backup Catchers...
Baltimore Sun columnist Rick Maese, for some reason, detests the fact that Red Sox fans travel to his fair city to watch the Red Sox routinely throttle his hometown Orioles.

His words: “They come to town today wearing their cargo pants and backward ballcaps. They have thick accents, thirsty livers and girlfriends with blond streaks running through their hair. As they do a couple of times a year, these chowder-eating tourists invade Camden Yards as though it were their own, putting their feet on the coffee table and tracking mud onto the carpet.”

Um. Well. Yeah. Red Sox fans do that. Why? Because there are so many shampooing empty seats.

And why is that? Because your team shampooing sucks! They're usually out of the running in the AL East by Easter.

So before you decide to take a shot at Sully and his girl, slugging back beer in their Old Navy and shouting out a few F-bombs at Miguel Tejada, think of a few things:

* hotel taxes in the Inner Harbor and around Baltimore are like 22.5% or so. That helps to make your property taxes lower.
* there are also sales taxes and liquor taxes, so everytime Sully buys a cold 12'er for his hotel room, that helps to put your kids through B-t-more's stellar public school system.
* Sully and his chick and their friends-in-arms make Camden Yards a wonderful place nine times a year, because there's nothing worse than an empty, quiet ballpark.

Actually, there annoying, snarky sports columnist.
Once again, sources close to the story confirm that I was #104 - down from #102 a year ago.

BTW, the folks at What Would Tyler Durden Do also have a story about it, using their own unique and funny viewpoint.
Go away.

Take him with you. (more about him below)
I blame Dougie.

Seriously, this guy brings nothing to the table, except for being a pretty lousy human being.

A loyal reader thinks it's time for him to take his big mitt and head on out of town. I agree. In fact, I agreed when they did ship he and his big mitt out of town, until they decided it was time to subjugate Johnny Damon's return to Fenway with his 11 minute commute from Logan to Landsdowne and his slightly-above-the-legal-limit batting average.

Two Sox related stories for the weekend.

1. The casting company for Sox Appeal called me yesterday to come and audition for the July reality dating show, based on a Red Sox game. The idea of the show great. The laughs about "what if I was on the show" are also great. Actually going on? Not so much. So I'm gonna pass.

2. Instead, I'm going to embark on my first foray into the world of sports journalism. This Saturday, a longtime friend and esteemed sports scribe and I will attempt to bring sports fans of Boston and around the world some hard-hitting, no-nonsense journalism that could bridge the gap between all the problems we face in this here hardscrabble world.

Nah, I'm just spitting nonsense. We're going to review some sports bars. But still, it's going to be a can't-miss. So stay tuned.
Torre admits the Yankee bullpen has been overworked.

In other news, Alec Baldwin admits he can get angry with his daughter from time to time.

And in other news, there are no WMD's in Iraq.
It just wouldn't be April if Mark Prior wasn't hurt.

On an NL Central aside: how about my Crew? Still waiting for the deadline deal to send Mike Lowell, and Craig Hansen to the Brewers for Bill Hall..
Need to see Hot Fuzz, from the good folks who brought us Shaun of the Dead.
Wow. This is a must read.
Ok, that's it for today.

yh&os, I remain...
Friday, April 20, 2007
  Dirty Water, Brought to you by Verizon BroadbandAccess
Click here, turn it up loud.

One down, 17 to go.
Way to hang with Borowski, er, Rivera there Eric Wedge, er, Joe Torre.

And way to have the 9th covered without Giambi.

And hey A-Rod...2 HR, 4 RBI...terrific rotisserie numbers. But L4 in the 9th gets you NOTHING.

yh&os, I remain...
Thursday, April 19, 2007
  Don't You Know That You Can Count Me Out
From the network that brought you the "nappy-headed ho" in the morning, comes this...

Cho Seung-Hui: Miscreant Martyr. Poster child for the psychotic.

As has been widely reported, the Virginia Tech mass murderer sent a sick and bloody care package to NBC in between his first two and final shootings on the Blacksburg campus.

It had the wrong address, which is why the delivery was delayed, but make no mistake about it: this piece of shit wanted to be memorialized in his own killing spree. Whatever twisted and warped shampooing logic was going on in the sick and slanted reality in his damaged head...he got it. Giftwrapped in fact, thanks to Steve Capus and the good folks at NBC News.

On last night's NBC Nightly News, they showed the envelope that Cho sent. They inventoried the contents. And turned it over to Federal authorities - of course, after making copies.

They showed some of the video clip. They aired some of the still photography. And they gave the "multimedia manifesto" plenty of air time.

Yeah. Great. Did it answer any questions? Did it lend any insight? Did it help to begin the "healing process?"

No. It memorialized it. It gave this waste of shampooing space his final fatal shot, sent through the television and into the living rooms and homes of anyone who had the television turned on. That photo of Cho, with both murder weapons pointed at the camera like he was Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver, that gets to be burned into our mental hard drives. Right next to the passport photo of Mohammed Atta.

The families still grieving, asking a question they'll never get an answer to: "Why?" That video and those pictures did not provide any insight. What it did was give those who lost someone close to them a chance to see what their friends, family members and loved ones saw in their eyes one final time.

Clint Van Zandt, a serial-killer expert and former FBI criminal profiler, summed it up best: "This is his ultimate victory, this is the way he's further victimizing us. This is what this guy wants, to reach his hand out of the grave, grab us by the throat and make us listen to him one more time."

NBC Nightly News anchor Brian Williams has a daughter in college. I'm sure the actions of this week has made him think of his family. Williams spoke of his network airing the Cho manifesto as it "being a sick business." He's right. Sick all around.
Alberto "Speedy' Gonzales has to be really excited - he gets to "apologize" and slide the festering wound of his subjugation of justice under the radar due to the VT story.
Of course, he apologizes but insists he did nothing wrong.

He must have the same agent as Jason Giambi. "I apologize for doing nothing wrong. But I am sorry. But I won't say what I'm sorry for."

From the NY Post's "Page Six" today: New England Patriot god (and Gisele Bundchen boyfriend) Tom Brady is the new face of Stetson cologne, but assistants who worked at his first ad shoot for the company are calling a foul. One on-set spy tells us Brady demanded a huge trailer and refused to put on a cowboy hat. Groused the source: "What's a Stetson ad without the Stetson hat?"

Hey...listen up! And listen good: if he doesn't want to wear the shampooing hat, he doesn't wear the hat. Don't you know he's tom brady? Now, go get him a bottle of water and STFU.
More from the STFU file: Johnny Damon doesn't know how he's going to be received at Fenway Park this weekend.

Let me give you a hint: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO(you suck, Johnny)OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

You're a Yankee playing at Fenway Park, how the shampoo do you think you're going to be received? What's the matter, that Damian Jackson collision still clouding up your memory or do you not remember last year?

Seriously, stop talking about the Red Sox and focus on your team. You don't play here any more.
With all of the tragic loss this week on the campus of Virginia Tech, one of a less violent - but no less sad - death came across last night.

Jean-Claude Lovinsky was an Iona College employee for more than 30 years, working with the College's facilities management department.

He was vacationing with his family in his native Haiti and was stricken. They couldn't get him to a hospital fast enough.

Jean-Claude was one of those rare individuals. One in a million millions.

If you polled 1,000 people, you would get 1,000 identical answers: Jean-Claude was a great man. Endquote.

Nothing was ever a problem for him. It might, at one point, have been a problem...for someone. But then Jean-Claude was arrive on the scene, smile on his face, eager as anything to help. And in no time flat, problem solved.

No matter the time of day, the time of year, location, situation, Jean-Claude was always quick with a smile, a laugh, a joke. And no matter how miserable or stressed out you were (and trust me, that happened quite often for me there...), he'd immediately add a well-timed dose of levity.

I left Iona in 2005, but returned on several occasions. And mark my words, it's no exaggeration, Jean-Claude would always be the first person I saw. He'd always stop and say hello, wanting to know how I was doing. And when the conversation turned to him, always a humble man, he would glow.

When I told an old friend of mine from the Iona days the terrible news, she emailed back: "I am so sad. When I came back for Homecoming, he gave me a tour of all the new buildings. I feel really choked up. It's amazing how special certain people can be."

I'm sure there are scores of similar emails being sent throughout the New Rochelle, N.Y. campus and beyond.

Rest in peace, Jean-Claude. You will be missed dearly.
yh&os, I remain...
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
  "Mexicans Are Also Very Good at Catapult Engineering"
In The Know: The U.S. Moat
Monday, April 16, 2007
  Why Couldn't He Call Someone a "Nappy-Headed Ho?"
Our wonderful president is "shocked" by the shootings today on the campus of Virginia Tech.

And thankfully, he took the time to mention the second amendment of the Constitution - the one that was written back in the late 1790's about the right to bear know, when British soldiers were occupying the streets of Colonial America and just breaking into homes and demanding that they be fed and quartered.

(Psst, W, it doesn't really apply to people who shoot up schools and post offices...)

So he takes the time out of his busy day to reflect and react to the grossest display of violence on a college campus in the history of this country...and he basically gives his boys at the NRA a shout-out.

Seriously. One guy says "nappy-headed ho," and he's out of a job in a week. Why can't this shampooing shampoohead say something similar?

Crickie...oh well, back to my migraine...

yh&os, I remain...
Friday, April 13, 2007
  So Poof! Vamoose, son of a bitch.
Imus got fired. And good. I'm sorry, I have no sympathy for him.

What is it? Apologies for the paraphrasing, but I'll fight to the death your right to say what you will...but if my daughter was one of the Rutgers wbb players, I reckon I'd fight you to death.

The girls are in with the I-Man, his wife Dierdre and (former) producer Bernard McGuirk as I type (at quarter to 10 p.m., ET, at Gov. Corzine's mansion in New Jersey). I think it goes without saying, emotions are running high.

That being said, it's time to let it go away. I said it to a person close to the situation the other day: the team and everyone associated with them have handled themselves with the utmost class, dignity, and have represented themselves, their program, coaches, family, etc. with the highest level of humanity.


Let's all move on.

One of the players mentioned how she's "scarred for life."

Far be it for TLBR to pooh-pooh the walk in someone else's moccasins...Someone whose moccasins are not even conceivable to me...


Colin Finnerty, Dave Evans, and Reide Seigelmann. Those boys are scarred for life. Not called a vile name but some wrinkled up, old douchebag.

They're done. Cooked. For bigger words, false accusations and representations, and more grave allusions than a mean-spirited, ugly insult.

But I digress.
Philadelphia International Airport.


Let's chat.

It rained today. I mean. To paraphrase a former Philadelphia great...we're talking about rain. Rain. Rain, man. Not a monsoon. Not a monsoon. We're talking about rain. We're talking about, rain, man. We're talking about rain.

No need to jam up ALL the shampooing flights all shampooing day for this shite.

That being said, thank God for Yuengling. $5 Yuengling, at that.

I was with a friend in the biz in the PHL this afternoon...and this evening...and into the night... And we discussed a theory of mine: why don't more people hook up in the airport?

I could get into the whole thing - nothing first-hand, unfortunately, but still... I got brains, I got crazy, and I got theories.

So, upon walking into the airport pub, there was a couple in the corner. And they were going at it like the two of them were going to the chair.

I mean, junior prom/first-grab-of-boob style making out. I mean, respect to the fella who has a filly who wants to have bar makeout sessions and all, but... C'MON.

Homeboy was in his 30's. Homegirl was too. They were bordering on making a scene.

Then they got up, walked to the entry/exit of the airport lounge. And it became an even more awkward scene.
Homeboy was (seemingly, but really) asking for homegirl's number. It was a Blackberry, so perhaps it was a swap of email after the swap of spit, but who can really tell...right?

So that awkward exchange of "I'll never call you, but give it anyways" yielded an even more awkward result. And then the pinnacle of awkwardness: the goodbye kiss.

Homeboy thought it was a departing tonsil hockey session. Homegirl had a flight to catch; as opposed to a case of mouth herpes.

It was a clean and clear shot. Point blank. Dead red. No survivors. Homeboy got the "ok, I'm done, so I'm gonna push you away with the butt of my hand on your ribs and if you don't shampooing stop, I'm going for the nuts..." move.

(you know that move... don't lie. I know that move...and trust me, you better move, or else...Chopper...sic balls...)

But regardless, it sort of confirmed the theory I've had for quite some time (again, strictly theory - zero action - welcome to my life.)

Airports are giant pick-up ports. Too many professional and attractive women. Too many professional and pretty boys. Too many folks with too much time on their hands and too little risk. Married men and women, miserable due to the litany of layovers or the tediousness of travel, might be willing - out of the mires of depression - to take risks. And, in their minds perhaps, the risk of meeting a stranger and carrying out some filthy fantasy as she departs for gate D-5 to Pittsburgh and you connect on your trip to Seattle...

Hey, I'm just saying...TLBR is with TC: on the side of truth.
Going to Fenway tomorrow. Tonight was a rain out. So you know what that means (on both accounts): Tim Wakefield is pitching.

Not that I (author's note: we're taking off now, hurdling down the runway at 200 mph...and I'm using my approved portable electronic device during a particularly unapproved time period...that's what you C-words get for making me shampooing wait for 2.5 hours on the way in and 2.5 hours on the way out...that's serious blogging time, you C-words...if this blog didn't have decency standards, candor and decorum, I'd have just come out and called you Ann Coulter.)

So yeah. Wakefield is on the hill. But it's not so much him as it is his piece of shit batterymate.

I mean, crap. And Wily Mo Pena is supposed to start in right field. So chalk up 6-7-8-9 for K's on the regular.

Craptastic. But it's Fenway. And goats could be doing it in between second and third, and I'd probably still go. Because, you know, it's Fenway.
Southwest is a great airline when there are 40 people on the flight. And when it's on shampooing time.

Otherwise, I'm good with it. I'd even go US Airways over this POS airline.

It's steerage. All they need is friggin' chickens hopping and flying and laying eggs and shit in the exit row. It's a giant Pakistan van.

Whatever. I'm just bitter.


I AM on the side of truth. (BALLIN'!)
Journey. Tough band to karaoke.

Blur. Obscure band to karaoke.

Travis. Band you karaoke to when particularly drunk.

Bob Dylan. Ditto.

And those are the last four performers on the trusty iPod sidekick.

And while we're on the topic of songs and second-hand performances...several of the loyal, royal readers will understand the next gripe: U2's "One."

This is the song pumping through the noise-cancelling Bose headphones at the mo.

And not the Achtung Baby version - the Mary J. Blige version. First off, I think it goes without saying: my girl Mary has pipes.

And she kicks it into HIGH GEAR on the collaboration with the best stinkin' Irish band in history. (speaking of stinkin', I just had a bit of a bit-too-loud flatulence...stupid leather seats...thankfully, we've begun our descent...because it, TMI, glad I shared that one...)

"One" is arguably, the most poetic and beautiful song by the Dublin boys since the Joshua Tree album.

(Ok, I'll fight with you about "Stay" and to this day, close to six years after the fateful day, I still can't stay dry-eyed through "Walk On" but god damn, the MJB version of One should make your soul jump through your navel and dance joyfully and passionately on your stomach.)
Man, not only is my iPod telekinetic, Buddhist, and shiny, it can also string together songs and stick with a trend when I'm in such a mood.

Tom Crean's favorite song on now: "Where the Streets Have No Name." I'm almost back at the Bradley Center now. Which gets me thinking...and when I think, I also try to get a wee bit inspired...but it's time to flip the script on the new employer's home court.

It's time to make that a legit Division I home court advantage. Sure, that other Division I program up the road is borrowing our arena while theirs is being rid of the general smell of cat piss, but it's time to dig the dividing line and get things moving.

Consider that my mission over the next few.

Well, at least, my work mission. I have a few off-the-court issues I need to set aside before I can really get rolling. But you all knew that.
And on that note, I end this missive.

Hope you all enjoy your weekends - whatever you're doing and whereever you're doing it.

yh&os, I remain...
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
  Tuesday's Child
Onto today's stuff...

** Congrats to all involved at the former employer for a great hire.

** Red Sox Opening Day - need I say more? Great job with the intros, with Dandy Don and Dave O'Brien. One thing struck me, though. Mike Lowell...he played on the '67 Sox "Impossible Dream" team, right?

** The second-best line of the week: "Dogs smell fear and so do closers." Good job, Gerry.

The best line of the week is a bit esoteric, and somewhat pointed, so I'll abstain. but she's a loyal reader, so I'd be remiss if I didn't point that out.

** Was thinking last night, with the "Walk-Off Sox" game on NESN. That might have been the last time Matt Clement pitched a solid game in a Red Sox uniform. Seriously. Six innings, six hits, four K's, three ER, three BB.

Now, if his rehab continues, he could be a nice late July/early August boost in the rotation. Because you know by then, there will be some really annoying and potentially painful doubleheaders. Rather than bring Abe Alvarez up for his annual twi-night beating, Clement could come in. He might not be the Answer, but he's better than David Pauley. Or Steve Ontiveros. Right?

** Ok, I have a solution - perhaps - to the Rutgers/Imus situation. If you've been living under a rock the last week or so, get out, dust yourself off, and find a computer with Google. Then type in "Nappy" and "Ho."

Bottom line - and apropos of nothing - Imus stopped being relevant in my book quite sometime ago. So, in addition to the reaction I had to his stupid comments, my second reaction was "He's still alive?" That being said, Rutgers is handling this with the highest level of class and dignity - as much as you possibly can after being publicly insulted in such a fashion. And Imus is, well, handling it with as much respect and dignity as he can muster (read: not too much).

His bosses' gave him two weeks off. It's called vacation. Their theory: he goes away and the story goes away. Right? Maybe. Either way, the "disciplinary action" does two things: a. saves face for CBS radio and MSNBC and b. guarantees their ratings will be off the shampooing chart on April 30. I mean, just astro-freaking-nomical.

My solution: have Dave Chappelle come up with a half-hour special on the incident. Why? Because Chappelle has done more for race relations, via the vehicle of humor, than anyone I can ever recall. He has brought folks of all ethnicities ruthlessly mocking them. Chappelle - along with Chris Rock and Martin Lawrence to some extent - is the only comedian to take on tough issues of race and stereotyping, break them down to their core, and build it back up in a way no one had before.

Chappelle would knock this one out of the park. He'd make it funny, he'd give it a level of respect and intelligence, and would do more than the simple dog-and-pony show of wordy statements, false apologies, PR damage strategies (and ultimately, the reward for those who are wrong) could ever do.

Ok, that's all. NESN time. Julian Tavarez gave Dice-K a big hug. How can you not love that guy? And Johnny Pesky - who for some un-shampooing-believable reason was banned from the dugout thanks to the good folks at MLB - came out to a standing O and was brought to tears.

That's what makes Opening Day what "it" is. That's what makes "it" special.

yh&os, I remain...
Monday, April 09, 2007
  Rick Sutcliffe is Drunk on the Air Again
"I think the Yankees rotation can be real good by the end of the year." -- sutcliffe sez...

He points to Carl Pavano - who while throwing 7+ innings of three hit ball - is still Carl Pavano. Then there's Andy Pettitte, who was great in 1996. Eleven years ago.

Of course, who can forget Mike "Mr. Clutch" Mussina. Why, the Yankees have won, um, lots of AL East titles since he joined the Bombers.

Chien-Ming Wang was arguably the ace of the staff last year. But at times, he looks like the ace. Other times, merely the Taiwanese Kevin Brown.

And the straw that stirs this shitty drink: Kei Igawa. Which translates from Japanese into "Ed Yarnell."

Who are the other options for the Yanks, there, Sut?
** The Rocket? Would LOVE to see him in the AL East. Hell, Cano gave up his #22. I got his ERA being in the high 5's if he makes his return.
** Philip Hughes? The Yankee youngster is sure to make an immediate impact in the Bronx. In 2009. First, he needs to figure out how not to get lit up by the Charlotte Knights.
** Humberto Sanchez? Darrell Rasner? My other brother Darrell Rasner?

Not that the Olde Towne team is flawless - the leadoff guy sees about 2.1 pitches per at bat and the bottom of the order couldn't hit a high-rise if Cory Lidle was piloting (man, that's all sorts of wrong.)

Another thought from the Yanks/Twins game tonight: seeing Sidney Ponson makes me feel like Brad Pitt.
Clicked onto NESN and saw the June 2, 2005 game-winning HR game with the Sox and Orioles. Watching the game in the 9th, remembered how it went...then remembered...I WAS THERE.

Was in the middle of a string of four out of six Sox games that I saw live that ended with a game-winning home run.

Ok, that's about it. Time for sleepy time.

Sunday, April 08, 2007
  Thank You, USA Network
The USA Network played the American Pie trilogy - but in reverse order. Made me wax nostalgic.

Great movies. Made me forget and then remember just how bad an actor/actress Chris Klein and Tara Reid are (respectively).

Seann William Scott joins Matthew McConaghey and Owen Wilson in the category of "actors who don't really act, they just do themselves."

And Finch - one of the most underrated and underdeveloped characters in the trilogy.

But overwhelmingly, the weakest character in the whole mix is Kevin. Dude, you didn't close the deal with your girlfriend in the movie - and she's the whore of Babylon. It is, however, the longest Tara Reid has ever gone without banging someone. "To the next step."

Two others who didn't make a big enough splash from the American Pie movies - Mena Suvari and the Asian dude who was in Harold & Kumar - but it didn't stop them from landing roles in bigger motion pictures. Suvari in American Beauty. And the Asian Harold & Kumar.
Love the scene in AP1, when Jason Biggs' character (Jim) walks up to Nadia (the horrible Shannon Elizabeth) and her friends, with Etta James' "At Last" playing, and he just spontaneously laughed at nothing. They look at him, confusingly, and he walks away with the embarassed "see you later."


Ok, back to the Masters.

Thursday, April 05, 2007
  I Think I'm Turning Japanese, I Really Think So
So, we’re back. Kinda.

With the news that NCAA Basketball is officially over, save for my favorite big dance - the coaching carousel – and the advent of the 2007 baseball season, Throws Left, Bats Right will attempt to return to a daily schedule.

Or something that closely resembles a daily schedule.

I’d try to hype it up by promising new flashy graphics, guest columnists, and breaking news/hard-hitting investigative pieces that would draw a larger viewership…but no. That would take work and, quite frankly, that’s not why this blog was created.

But we’ll (and I mean that in the editorial “we”) continue to provide you, the reader, with the same stupidity, link dump, and occasion hip-hop video because I know that’s what you’re all pining for, secretly.

I might also make an attempt at a secondary graphic because I thought I made a profound quote in an interview regarding the new media and blogging. (Yeah, I got interviewed.)

The quote: "My blog was started to alleviate boredom from my current profession,” said the creator of “TLBR” (Throws Left Bats Right). And because I think my insanity needs an audience.”

So there it is. Welcome to my insanity. Take a seat, grab a drink from the virtual concession stand, and enjoy. We’re back.
In keeping with the announcement that TLBR is back on a regular schedule comes my annual announcement about exercise and healthy living. It always seems to come around Patriots Day, when tens of thousands of folks do something that is both good for you and really, really bad for you at the same time. Up and down hills. For about three-and-a-half hours.

The Irish guilt takes over. Fills up the love handles and man-boobs. And it makes me, well, super size that bitch.

Also in conjunction with a doctor’s visit yesterday and a pesky little number known as “body-mass index,” I’ve put it on my to-do list for the day.

Right underneath “do laundry” is “get rid of disgusting fat rolls.”

The goal: the 2008 Boston Marathon.

(the laughter from the peanut gallery is deafening.)
Now that it’s Spring, the trees are a-bloom (when they get done being confused from the weather in the Northeast going from 77 to 47 in seven days…), the hayfever ablaze, and that thong season is fast approaching… Love is in the Air!

Here are two famous musicians’ latest, greatest attempts to put on their best Robert Downey Jr. from “The Pick-Up Artist,’ courtesy of the Page Six from the NY Post:

Kanye West wants to know if Sienna Miller is single. "That's a white girl I would take to the mosque," the rapper writes in his Fashion Beatdowns column for Complex magazine's April/May issue. West contemplates Miller's relationship status after he weighs in on her ex Jude Law 's outfit: "That sweater with the black sequins on it is incredible."

British jazz pianist and singer Jamie Cullum tried out a new pickup line at Tuesday's Gotham Mag-hosted party at Audi Forum. Caressing the hood of an Audi S5, he asked a female fan, "Have you ever had sex in a car?" The lovely blond answered yes.
Just heard someone on the radio say that all polar bears are left-handed. Interesting. How does one decide to come up with that subject to study? If you’re a professor of Arctic Circles or some shit, how do you begin to write up the grant-proposal for “Want to see if polar bears are left-handed” and pitch it? And if and when it’s accepted, how do you get that close to a polar bear to run a proper dexterity test? What constitutes the research, a snowball fight? Which hand the polar bear reaches for its bottle of Coca-Cola?

In related news, polar bears are now the official animal of TLBR.
Rest in peace, Darryl Stingley. You endured more than anyone could ever imagine, more than you deserved. And you did it with class and dignity.

His former quarterback. Steve Grogan, also weighed in.

Here’s hoping that Jack Tatum, that piece of shit, finally mans up and apologizes.
From the “what the shampoo are you thinking?” file: James Edward Rice.

There’s a line between being wrong, and then being wrong no matter if you’re probably right. I tend to think Big Jim Ed is more the latter than the former.

But still… Time and place. Not either one, #14. Might need to spin and dig your way out of this one.
As we get ready for Dice-K’s debut today – and trust me, I’ve got the fever, I’ll be right by the television at 2 p.m. (Japanese is the new Dominican) – I’m more intrigued by Billy Donovan’s situation right now.

Since Tubby Smith dearly departed for the Twin Cities, everyone from my Mom (who is a hoops afficianado) to the national media has put Billy the Kid in the head coaching role at UK.

And with the money that is being thrown around, I can’t blame him for not closing the door. And with the fact that his team was attempting to do something that had only been done twice since 1973 – win back-to-back titles – I can’t blame him for not really wanting to address it.

But the acceptable excuse time is over. Time to retrieve your cell phone from your executive assistant. And time to make a definitive answer.

Billy, it’s OK to say: “I’d like to talk to the man who might pay me $4 million dollars per year to do what I love.” It’s ok. I’d talk to someone who’d like to pay me one-tenth that amount to do, well, whatever the hell they wanted (no kinky stuff, though).

You want to give a speech at Marshall – and pitch your guy for their opening – fine. Expect the questions.

You want to go to lunch with your current boss – fine, you both need to. But expect there to be a line at the door to the deli.

You want to “decompress” in the Dominican – super idea, I’m jealous. Let me know if you need a looper on Tooth of the Dog. But expect there to be Dave Curtis, Andy Katz, Pat Forde, Jeff Goodman, and Gary Parrish following you, asking you the same questions until you answer them.

It’s like being engaged to Natalie Portman, but still having Scarlett Johansson text messaging you for a booty-call.

(what? I need help. Or lunch, because my low blood-sugar is clouding my brain’s function to make good analogies…)

Me personally? I think he’s staying.

(a source close to the program beat me to it…rats…see, that’s why TLBR doesn’t break news…but we do break hearts…)
Ok, I need to go get ready for Dice-K’s start. Pumping myself up with some Wu-Tang Clan and eating some California Rolls.


yh&os, (konichiwa, bitches)
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
  We argue why we have to shout; All in all it's nice to be out
NESN. It's a wonderful thing.

Great to be watching the good guys, live and on NESN.

It's baseball season again.
Ok, that's it for now.

Monday, April 02, 2007
  Some Final Four Thoughts
Coaching carousel...

** John Beilein bringing the god-damned sexiest offense to Ann Arbor, Michigan. Tom Brady's alma mater ponying up the 2.5 milly just to get him. It's not Dice-K money, but still.

He, along with Todd Lickliter, are joining the ranks of the Big 10.

A long time reader brought up the name of a prominent WVU alum to replace Coach Beilein, but I'm not sure it can happen. You never know, though.

** Also interesting to see Creighton's Dana Altman finally leave his perch in Omaha. Now, I've been to Omaha. Couldn't wait to get out of there. But that's just me.

He goes from Omaha to Fayette-nam. Interesting. But for a lot of money.

Not as much as they offered Calipari, but still a significant pay raise.

** My theory on Kentucky's opening: Mitch Barnhart will have his contract ready for Billy Donovan during the piano interlude of "One Shining Moment." Jeremy Foley will be sitting on top of the rim when Billy the Kid goes up to cut off his bit of net with a hefty counteroffer.

And by the time the late, great Luther Vandross belts out his last "One Shining Mo-mennnnnnnnt!" (and then you get the guitar riff), Billy will stay at Florida.

And John Calipari will be named your new head coach at Kentucky.

Onto some other stuff:

** Greg Oden should get a technical foul every time he dunks the ball. EVERY TIME. He jumps, dunks, pulls his legs up high, chins up, and slaps the backboard.

It's a T.

** I'm going to watch the Women's Final Four tomorrow night.

No, I'm not high.

But I think it's going to be a good game and I'm pulling for Rutgers.

** Is Joakim Noah this year's Scottie Thurman? Not so sure he's a lottery pick if he comes out this year.

** This championship game has no flow. None.

Why? I can think of three reasons...

** Back to Billy D...CBS showed his pregame speech to his guys, and he talked of the season as a horse race.

Um... Horse race? Like, say, the KENTUCKY DERBY?

Is that just a bad coincidence? Pun gone wrong?

** Al Pacino in Oceans 13?

Ah, what the heck. Those movies have both been terrific. I'm sure this one will be as well.

Ok, I need some sleep.

It's the eight minute media and I'm signing off.

A daily - or every-other-day - account of all there is in my head
that's dying to get out, via my fingers.
(I vow to attack this endeavor with an enthusiasm unknown to mankind.)

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