And here come the pretzels!

Michael Phelps won 8 gold medals at the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics. Whooptee-shit. I don't care anymore. Please stop covering him everyone. I don't care what his daily schedule is. I don't care what he eats. I don't care what's on his iPod. I don't care how many people want to be his friend on Facebook. I don't care that if he had a homoerotic experience in middle school. I don't care.

I'm not taking anything away from his athletic ability, it's obvious that he kid can swim. And I wouldn't be surprised to learn that his mom had a run in with Led Zeppelin at the Edgewater Inn. Or I won't take anything from the accomplishment that he had 81.25% say in. He only had six solo finals, the other two finals he was part of a four man team. Do the math.

I'm just sick of hearing about him constantly. Like a good American, I've been tuning into NBC's "live" coverage of the games and supporting my country by purchasing goods being marketed by official Olympic sponsors. I've also been driving around in a 2009 Ford Mustang that gets really shitty gas mileage (more about that soon) and doing poorly (3 out of 18) at recognizing facial characteristics between citizens of Asian countries. But I won't stand behind him anymore. Throughout all the swimming competitions, it's been all about Michael Phelps. Even when other competitors were winning medals. During their post-victory interviews at least half of the conversation was about him.

Reporter: So how does it feel to win a medal at the Olympics?

Swimmer: This is the greatest moment of my life. I've worked hard every day for the past eight years to get here.

Reporter: So how about that Michael Phelps? He's amazing, isn't he? I hear he's part mud shark.

Swimmer: Ummm... yeah, he's great. I can't believe all the adversity that I had to overcome to get to this leve--

Reporter: Oh yeah. Congratulations on overcoming adversity. So does Michael Phelps inspire you like he has America?

Swimmer: Actually, my 108 year-old grandmother who was the first white woman in South Carolina to date a black man, has been my true inspiration. It was her trailblazing that has helped to begin to mend the wound of slavery and end the evils of racism.

Reporter: Shut up! That has nothing to do with Michael Phelps. Would you say Michael Phelps is your one true savior?

I know I may have exaggerated one or two things there, but it's like these athletes were being interviewed by Bill O'Reilly and had a dissenting opinion. Weaksauce NBC. Weaksauce.

The most shocking news in the history of the world!

From the AP:

DALLAS - A tour bus carrying hip-hop artist Snoop Dogg was pulled over and two people were arrested on marijuana possession charges Thursday a few hours before a concert in Dallas, a spokesman for the Texas Department of Public Safety said.

DPS spokesman Charlie Morgan said members of a commercial vehicle inspection team pulled the bus over on Interstate 45 in Corsicana because the vehicle had an expired registration sticker. Troopers searched the bus for drugs after they said they smelled marijuana and found two ounces of the drug, he said.

Ethan Calhoun, 27, and Kevin Barkey, 26, were arrested on drug charges after admitting the drugs belonged to them, Morgan told The Associated Press. Both men were taken to the Navarro County Jail and face fines of up to $2,000 and six months in jail if convicted, Morgan said. Bond was set at $1,500 each.

The Corsicana Daily Sun reported the men appeared before a justice of the peace and were released after posting bond.

Snoop Dogg, whose birth name is Cordozar Calvin Broadus Jr., was not arrested. His agent had no comment, a secretary said. Calls to public relations representatives for the rapper were not immediately returned Thursday evening.

He was arrested last year at Bob Hope Airport in Burbank, Calif., on suspicion of transporting marijuana.

Police later charged him with gun possession after finding a firearm in his home. He pleaded no contest in April 2007 to felony gun and marijuana charges and agreed to five years' probation and 800 hours of community service.

He was scheduled to appear at a concert near the Cotton Bowl in Dallas. He is on tour with alternative rock group 311.

Corsicana is 52 miles south-southeast of Dallas.

Really? Some nogoodniks on Snoop Dogg's tour bus were in possession of marijuana? That's hard to believe. It's not like the guy every glorified the use of marijuana in any of his endeavors before.

This Just In: the sky is blue.

But seriously, I don't get how this doesn't happen more often. How don't dudes like Snoop Dogg and Willie Nelson get arrested daily? Probably for the same reason people like Nicole Richie go to jail for 82 minutes. Because their dads had something to do with the making of Dancing on the Ceiling.

Mix one part awesome with five parts shit

So a few weeks back I mentioned my best friend getting married. That wedding without a doubt was one of the most fun times I've had in my entire life. I'm not going into the details, as they're pretty fuzzy, but you know it's an awesome reception when the DJ plays 2ge+her. For real. I guess I just didn't realize that drinking all day was a requirement of being in a wedding. So is ushering, which is also a blast when you're half in the bag.

Me: Hello. Are you with the bride or the groom?
Wedding guest: Are you joking? ... I'm with the groom. I've known you since you were this high. [makes gesture with hand to hip height]
Me: Of course you are. A thousand apologies. I just didn't recognize you all dressed up. Your pants suit is quite breathtaking. [still has no idea who this person is]

But since that day my life has been one big shitshow. I was sick for two solid weeks. My car succumbed to the demon named hydrolock. My cell phone drowned. And the brakes went out on the truck I was using while without a car. I'm happy I never got around to getting a dog because it probably would have been hit by a car or struck by lightning, or hit by a car that was in the act of being struck by lightning. Hell, with the way things have been going, I'm surprised I didn't get struck by lightning yesterday while outside when it was storming like a motherfucker.

And probably worst of all, I've been going to dealerships checking out new cars and have been subjected to the scum of the Earth that are car salesmen.

Car salesman: Why don't you fill out this credit application and we'll see what kind of deal we can get you?
Me: I'm not buying a car today. I just wanted to test drive a couple cars, which I eventually did.
Car salesman: Well why don't you fill it out anyway so we can see?
Me: Because checking my credit affects my credit rating, and I'm not going to do that when I'm not going to buy a car today.
Car salesman: Ummm... ok. I need to go talk to my manager.

Fuckface.

P.S. I owned the dance floor at that wedding, as I tend to do.

Everybody Can* Dance

My best friend is getting married tomorrow. There will be a ceremony. There will be a reception. There will be alcohol. There will be dancing. I have a crazy hangover this morning and I'm going to try to get out of work early to go play a little golf with the poor bastard; so I'm going to put up the post my sister wrote for me a month or so back. I'm happy I waited because it unintentionally relates to tomorrow's festivities. This is probably the most well-written post that will ever appear on this blog, so don't get used to it. (Although I think my Super Bowl "article" is pretty damn good)

Stamps, rocks, assorted “miraculous” food items containing the face of Jesus; people collect all sorts of crap. As for my personal items of covet, they include Happy Holidays Barbie (don’t knock it, the original is worth quite a pretty penny), and Hard Rock Café pilsner glasses. HRC pilsners are a great way to show off where you have been as you enjoy a nice frosty beverage. (Although in retrospect, shot glasses would have been a better choice, as they are much easier to transport). Sometimes I just go to the gift shop and buy the glass, but other times, an “all American meal” (yes, I know the original HRC was in London) with a side of “Rock” music is the perfect comfort when abroad.

After a stressful search for our hotel in Lisbon (Dear Residencial Florescente, it would have been nice if you told us that you are located on a pedestrian only street and therefore we wouldn’t be able to find you in a car! Nice hotel though, highly recommended if in Lisbon.), we were tired, hungry and cranky. Therefore, we decided to eat at the Hard Rock Café as we had already passed it 10 times while en route to our lodging.

With each sip of my delicious chocolate milkshake from the latest addition to my collection, I became more at ease. With every crispy onion ring, and Aerosmith song, our crankiness was melting away. As if to call an official end to the tension between us, the Queen Mother of all bonding songs lit up the TV in front of us. Oh yeah, calling all ladies to the dance floor. It’s time to get down. Now presenting Sister Sledge, “We Are Family.”

Just hearing the songs title evokes a mental image. We’ve all seen it a thousand times. You don’t really need me to give the play-by-play, but I am going to anyway.

You‘re at some function; it doesn’t matter if it’s a wedding, birthday, bar mitzvah, Easter parade, earth day celebration, etc. thrown by your family, friends, or even distant acquaintances.

The first few beats come on and all the ladies stop whatever they are doing. There is some hooting, some clapping and a stampede to the dance floor. Let’s not forget the ladies that try to drag their husbands, boyfriends and children to the dance floor with them.

Knowing the spectacle that is about to unfold, these innocent bystanders protest, and the lucky ones are able to escape to the refuge of the bathroom or the bar. The weak willed and weak armed are thrown to the lions, but after about 30 seconds of dodging arm waving, right-on-sister pointing, and you-go-girl claps, their captors are too busy boogieing to notice their escape. If it is noticed, they simply get a “you are no fun!” before the lady gets her groove back.

Once all of the forced participants have escaped or given in to the phenomenon, the fancy footwork can begin. The aforementioned claps, waves, points and hoots are the backbone for the dance, but now the jazzier elements can be added. Did I just see a twirl? Shout out to Mom! What about a side step with a scoop and clap? Way to represent, Aunt Mildred! Where’s the shimmy/twisting action? Go grandma, go grandma!

But let’s not forget, the message of this song is not about showing off our individual skillz, it is about celebrating our shared bond, be it by blood, marriage, or similar tastes in party jams. The ladies have not forgotten this either, as they have been working up to their signature move.

You know it, you love it. It’s time for the ladies to get in a line or circle, the arms to go around each other’s shoulders, and the sway begins. Sure, it will take a few sways to get everyone going the right direction, but no family is perfect. Now depending on the amount of alcohol consumed/Broadway aspirations of the participants, the sway might turn into the Holy Grail of the ladies dance: the kick line. Even the famous Sister Sledge can only pull it off for a mere few seconds at the end of the video.

It may not be perfect, but you can bet your bottom dollar that Rockettes auditions aren’t nearly as full of love.

So as party season gets into full swing, I know you will encounter this display, and I ask that you remember that although it is cheesy, it is a message of love and celebration that can always be counted on. But if you can’t help but cringe the next time you hear this song, just be happy you aren’t watching this:

(Although that puppy in the cotton candy machine is the cutest f’in thing I have ever seen!) I think even Sister Sledge would get over their love fest and hang their head in embarrassment. But then again, what’s more family than that?

*Meaning everybody has the physical ability to move to music, not necessarily that everybody has rhythm. The prior statement excludes quadriplegics, coma victims, and other assorted vegetables.

I'm back

I know I've been silent for awhile now, but when you do all of your writing at work, then don't have time anymore, your writing suffers. And to be honest, nothing has really motivated me to even try. Two bachelor parties? Nope. A trip to Las Vegas? Nope. Gay marriage becoming legal in California. Nope. Not even Barack Obama winning the Democratic nomination. Did I watch every second of his victory speech? You better believe it. Did it inspire me? No doubt. Inspire me to write? Not so much. Since it's Friday, and I finally have more than 5 minutes to goof around, I figure today would be the ideal day to start this shit up again. I also have an excellent guest post in the pipeline written by my sister. She gave it to me a few weeks back to post, but I obviously didn't get around to it.

The Boston Celtics captured their seventeenth NBA championship Tuesday night. And Boston celebrated:

Wait a second. This is the wrong picture. This is from when the California Supreme Court ruled that gay marriage would be legal in the state. My bad. But seriously, I love it when anything happens positive to the gay community because you can always count on seeing a scene like this, which makes me smile. Way to go gays! Keep reaching for that rainbow! And fuck you religious/conservative assholes who are opposed to equality for all people. Sometimes this country makes me ashamed to be an American. And you can quote me when I run for office some day.

This is more like it. Although only a couple dozen people were arrested this championship. I think Boston may be finally getting too cool to riot. Have we learned to not be such douchebags? Not yet. Baby steps people. We'll get there.

I didn't really realize during the broadcast, as the game itself was my main focus, but the stars were out in full force. Boston celebrities that is. My sources in the Garden reported those in attendance included The Sausage Guy, Joyce Kulhawik, Crunch, the Andleman brothers, that guy who shows up at every event in Boston wearing the sandwich board and hands out those fliers about going to hell, and I'm sure Lenny Clarke was probably in the back somewhere. Actually, I did see Steven Tyler sitting courtside, and boy did it piss me off. His body language clearly stated that he has never been to a basketball game in his life. Fucking celebrity bullshit. And he's not even that good of a celebrity. That's right, I went there. Guess what America, everyone in Boston doesn't get a boner over Aerosmith.

And I'm not done with him quite yet. I know he's Steven Tyler, but what the fuck was he wearing? This is game 6 of the NBA finals, not a fucking Stevie Nicks concert. Fuck face.

Also in attendance, Joey and Donny from New Kids on the Block. Why didn't they get courtside seats? This is some bulllllllllshit! Am I saying that because I'm going to their concert in October? Let me answer that by first saying that my girlfriend really wanted to go. Moving on.

Getting up and going to work on Wednesday was pretty awful. I actually started writing this post then, but I didn't get that far with the complete lack of sleep and alcohol still coursing through my veins. I was able to get a shitload of pictures from the celebrating, thus reinforcing my love of Glen "Big Baby" Davis.

Big Three? Fuck that. Big Baby. That's right.

Holiday Greetings

...from smut peddlers and T.O.

One of these things is not like the others

Baseball, priorities, monsters, redemption, bigotry, and inspiration

Yesterday was opening day at Fenway Park. I didn't make it this year. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing because I probably couldn't take all the alcohol-fueled mayhem excitement that was sure to take place because I've been sick. Boo hoo. In a pre-game ceremony that surely annoyed all Boston-hating individuals, the World Series rings were given out to much fanfare and wicked awesome self-congratulations, guy. However the most important news item of the day was who was the surprise guest that was earmarked to throw out the ceremonial first pitch. Seriously, it was embarrassing. Some kids got burned alive in a 3-story house fire in Medford. Who gives a shit? It's opening day at Fenway! It was on the morning news. It was on the radio. It was on the internet. People at work were talking about it. Blah, blah, blah. And of course the Red Sox ownership would only stoke the fire by saying it was a Red Sox legend. Red Sox legend? It seems everyone who's every played for the team is a Red Sox legend. When he retires, Trot Nixon will be a Red Sox legend. No help there, and I still wasn't impressed. Now if the Red Sox brass figured out how to reanimate Ted Williams after reattaching his frozen head to his frozen body into some sort of Frankensteinean creation and have that throw out the first pitch, then I would be impressed.

Nope.

It turned out to be Bill Buckner.

Sweet, sweet redemption!

Not so fast Jon. When talking to one of my co-workers about it she seemed annoyed that he threw out the pitch. Deeper into the conversation it was revealed that she still holds a grudge against him for his error in Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. That's 21 years. That's also sad. Granted, she's still also pissed about the Patriots losing to the Giants in the Superbowl. I think she holds grudges. I'm making a mental note to never piss her off.

I was five when Buckner made that error. It didn't really affect me at the time because I was more interested in playing with Transformers and being scared of the Incredible Hulk. I was also scared of the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz. I also hated Broccoli. Maybe I just had a problem with the color Green? Youthful color-bigotry aside, even when I grew up I never had a problem with Bill Buckner. The guy made an error, he's human. Admittedly, that was a pretty fuckin' huge error, but I don't want to judge because I too have made mistakes. None that involved missing a routine ground ball that could have clinched a World Series victory ended the Mets' 10th inning rally, but now I'm just splitting hairs.

And it turns out the Metropolitans were destined to win the series in '86. That's right. How do I know? Maybe this little video will bring things into perspective for you like it did for me.

We never even stood a chance. They had a cameo from Cameo. That just isn't fair. I'm surprised the universe didn't collapse in on itself just from that. If Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha, Osiris, Zeus, Jewish guy, and other religious deities had a baseball team and were facing the Mets in the World Series, they would also lose in a heartbreaking fashion. It's just a fact.

And I miss this. When did sports teams become too cool for school to make the cheesy inspirational video?

Jerks.

Now who's laughing? Now who's laughing?

Today is April Fools' Day. Everyone on the internet is trying to be clever even more so than normal. I've decided to buck the trend and post a picture of a baby with three arms. Enjoy.

I Guess I Guess

Monday night I attended the Sons and Daughters/Bodies of Water show at the Middle East downstairs. Bodies of Water put out one of my favorite albums last year so I've been jonesing to see them live. I'm hoping that it was either the day after Easter thing or a Monday night thing because the turnout was pretty weak. I would guesstimate that there were 125 people at most at the show. I've literally seen more people at basement shows back in the day in a place a fraction of the size. That's just depressing so I'm going to move on.

Bodies of Water kept having problems with the mix. It literally took half of their set for the soundboard jackass technician to get it decent. If you haven't heard them before they harmonize a lot. All four of them. And it's awesome. What's not awesome is not hearing the vocals and hearing crazy loud bass. I'm not saying that I don't like bass. Hell, I love me some bass. Did you see Randy Jackson jammin' out during Paula Abdul's Super Bowl pre-game performance? Bad. Mother. Fucker. But I don't like being overwhelmed with bass when the harmonies are such vital parts of the songs. The low turnout and the poor mix definitely took the band out of the performance a bit. They actually asked the audience for any requests at one point. I've only seen cover bands do that before. A bit disheartening. Despite all that, I still think they were excellent. I don't remember the setlist because I don't think they had one, but they played my favorites and a couple new songs, which were also excellent. All and all, they weren't really trying and still put on a better performance than many bands I've seen in the past. Please see them if they come to your town. You shant regret it.

And they're tearing around the country in a 90's camper. Tour bus? Too gaudy. Tour van? Boring. Tour camper? Yup! And you can even take a pit stop in the mountains for a few days if you want. That's exactly what I would do if I had any musical ability, talent, and there were people who wanted to see me perform live. And how do I know that the camper was theirs? Because I asked.

After Sons and Daughters' set I stopped by the Bodies of Water merch table to purchase some wares. I scooped up their album and a t-shirt. Now I had the BoW album for quite some time now, but I hadn't owned it legally. I know that's wrong, but I could never find it in any of my local music stores (and I'm not talking about Wal*Mart or Best Buy). I could have ordered it over the internet, but I don't trust the internet. I heard from my church group that there's sex perverts on the internet. Sex perverts? Yes. Sex perverts. I can't in good faith do business with anything that associates itself with sex perverts. Sorry internet. So I bought it in person, which the band actually gets a bigger cut of (I hope). Conscience clean. I don't really own or wear band t-shirts because that's so nineteen 80's (in retrospect I think that "style" actually started in the 70's, but that takes away from my point, so work with me). Now I love the 80's in the same ironic fashion as much as the next 20-something year old, but that's retarded 80's, like the shit Bon Jovi wore during the Living on a Prayer video. Nothing in that video will ever be cool again. Ever. So even to my surprise I saw a t-shirt that caught my eye which I wanted to exchange legal tender for. Much to my dismay they didn't have any men's mediums (jealous?). So David, the male lead vocalist/guitarist, who was working the merch table offered to run out to the camper to grab me one. How rad is that? Most merch peddlers would tell you you're SOL if they didn't have your size. Instead one of the key members of the band dashes off into the night risking life and limb to get me a $10 t-shirt. Awesome. While he was away I was talking to their friend who was also working the table. I don't remember the kid's name, but I do remember he was 19 and was going to school in Boston. Which conveniently leads into my exclusive interview with David from Bodies of Water. Why does it conveniently lead into my exclusive interview with David? Because I also don't remember most of our conversation because I was way drunker than I thought I was.

Here's how the conversation interview went, and I'm not going to quote anything because again I was somewhat drunk and didn't record anything, take notes, or even ask permission for an interview (please don't sue). I also can't guarantee the order is correct so I put it in the most logical order. Here's what I remember:

Me: You guys were awesome.
David: Thanks, I thought we had an off night.
Me: Well I still thought you were awesome.

Me: Are you guys touring in that sweet 70's camper that I saw parked out back?
David: It's actually from the 90's, and yes we are.
Me: I knew it. That's so rad.

Me: Can I get that t-shirt in medium? [points to t-shirt]
David: We don't have any, but I can run out to the camper and get you one.
Me: Please do good sir (may have classed up my answer, then again maybe not as it sounds like something I would say while drunk).

[David takes off like the Roadrunner, leaving a cloud of dust in his likeness behind]

Me: So what's your deal? Are you on tour with the band?
19: I'm friends with the band. I go to school in Boston.
Me: That's cool. Is this their first time out here?
19: No, they were here in October.
Me: I think you're a liar because I didn't hear about the show (I'm quite sure I said that).

[David returns with the quickness]

David: Here's your shirt.
Me: Sweet.
GF: I can't believe you bought that.

Then we talked for another five or ten minutes before security made us leave. Wow, that interview was pretty much a recap of everything I already talked about. I thought I remembered more, I guess not. Now to further recap: I like Bodies of Water. David from Bodies of Water is a stand-up human being. Their friend goes to school in Boston. Oh yeah, Sons and Daughters were also very good. They also have a great album and you should give it a listen. And their female lead singer wears purple sequined hot pants, which may interest some of you sex perverts.

Worth $10 and risking life and limb? You betcha.

Obligatory Easter post

Sorry, I'm not talking about March Madness (and my bracket is doing shitty, so I won't be talking about it either, fucking college kids who can't perform under pressure). So Easter is this coming Sunday. La de fuckin' da! Way to ruin my weekend Christians. It was supposed to be the final week of our bowling season, but everyone has to spend time in church or with their families. Losers. Despite the brief 'woe is me' complaining and religion bashing there is a positive. Nestlé Crunch Nest Eggs are back in Full Force, Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam style. Sweet tap dancing Christ! To me, these little bastards are like crack is to a heroin addict. Actually I should have went with crack addict, but I don't feel like using the backspace key today. Oaklfuaidlsausnfl!11!!!11 See, no backspace. Anyway, thank god Jesus was killed so I can enjoy Crunch Eggs every year. Way to take one for the team guy!

I think that's enough blasphemy for one day. Happy Easter, or enjoy Sunday Jews, Muslims, Atheists, Buddhists, etc...

It wasn't a rock...

While perusing my e-mail last week I saw in the weekly Live Nation e-mail that the B-52's were coming to town next month. I've never seen the B-52's and figured that would be a pretty fun show to attend, especially in a club setting. That was a few days ago. I now realize that it wasn't my best idea. Let me come out and say that Rock Lobster is one of my favorite songs of all time. Seriously. I don't know why, but it's awesome. And if you disagree then let me impart a little knowledge on you, it is number 146 on Rolling Stone's 500 greatest songs of all time. So fuck you hater (it pains me to use that word). And I know Rolling Stone doesn't mean shit to my generation, but that's still better than some indie music blog ironically saying that it's cool to like it. Fucking hipsters. Me saying that could also be considered ironic, but I like to think a far more accurate statement would be that hipsters like to dress in the same manner that I occasionally dress.

So I ran the idea by my girlfriend Sunday and she gave me the are you sure because that sounds pretty gay look. You know that look right? Am I the only one? When that gay guy said he liked my cardigan while I was holding the door open for several people leaving a restaurant while in Hartford on Saturday night, he was only complementing my choice of wardrobe and not really thinking I want to do things to this white boy that would make a Catholic priest jealous, wasn't he? This hasn't happened to anyone? Hmmmm...

So anyway, lesson learned:

B-52's live = gay, even if you see them with your girlfriend.

My friends are the shit

I'm really busy at work and in life right now so I've had to neglect my writings. Sorry. Luckily for you I was sent this e-mail today by a friend who I'm going to keep anonymous for his sake. What you read below is exactly what was contained in the e-mail. The very few grammatical errors are his. Hope you like poop jokes.

Alright, let me preface this by saying that this little chestnut is going to be pretty gross and damning in some ways, but you're a guy so you can relate without being completely grossed out. Here's the deal:

Yesterday I was on a 2-hour conference call (there should be a time-limit on how long you can schedule conference calls), and about an hour into it I started to feel a little rumbly in my tumbly. These were not hunger pains either. Something evil had taken over my digestive system, and it desperately wanted out. Initially, it revealed itself in the form of toxic gas and therefore punished all those around me. Of course, I didn't take any responsibility for what was happening. I would also like to note that you know it's bad when your own brand grosses you out. The monster slowly started to move its way down my intestinal tract until it was standing on the doorstep of freedom. What could I do? I'm on a call with clients. Then this terrifying thought entered my mind, "I may actually shit my pants." Now, I've said jokingly "I almost shit my pants" or "I'm going to shit myself" a thousand times. This time though, I actually had to entertain the idea that it could really happen. I might actually shit my pants if I don't get to a bathroom STAT. I haven't been that scared in years. I sat there for a good 20 minutes with my legs and ass clenched as tight as they could be, but the beast had been processed and was ready for its release. Luckily, there was break while one of my co-workers reviewed a set of slides and I knew this was my only opening. I said, "I just need to step away for a few minutes. I apologize." And then I speed-walked, still with my ass clenched, to the mens room and released the hounds of hell. It was literally the best, and worst, feeling I've had in a while. I came back to the call 10 minutes later, and no one was the wiser.

Afterwards I kept thinking, "What would I have done if I shit my pants? How do I get out of the building without anyone noticing what's happened?" Also, there's no email template for leaving early because you shit yourself. Thank God I made to the stall. If the stall was taken, I think I would have shit in the urinal. That's not a joke.

Now you probably don't need to know any of this, but I wanted to share this moment of terror with someone. Enjoy, and God bless.

Concert Review: Point/Counterpoint

I was out of my friggin' mind yesterday because I've been fighting illness and was working on a couple hours sleep. That being said, I decided to write up a review of the show I went to the night before that contributed to my insanity. I don't feel like editing it so I'm just going to post what seemed like a good idea at the time. Comments I added today will be (in parenthesis). Basically I wanted to post something on Leap Year Day, so I won't have to wait four years for another chance to do this (and I probably won't be blogging in four years, so I'll take the opportunity while I have it). Here it is, and I know it sucks:

Last night (Wednesday night) I attended Via Audio/Headlights/Evangelicals/This Car Up show at the Middle East Upstairs. There was some drunk 70 year-old-looking guy standing near me (this is 100% true) so I decided to get his opinion of the show based on his body language.

This Car Up
I missed their set while enjoying drinks with my new lady friend. That being said, I hadn't encountered the drunk 70 year-old yet.

Evangelicals
Me: They said they are from Oklahoma yet they dressed like they worked at Hot Topic. I'm guessing their local Hot Topic was shut down for being a tool of the devil so they had to form a band to keep dressing like that. They put on an interesting show that included prominent use of blacklight and a strobe light solo that went on long enough to give me epilepsy, but the crowd wasn't really into them. If you haven't heard them I would describe their sound as a cross between Blind Melon and My Chemical Romance, sort of. If your high school was having a Halloween party I would suggest hiring this band (not really).
Drunk 70 year-old: [drunkenly stumbles into me, gives me a dirty look]

Headlights
Me: Despite being second on the bill, they were the reason that mostly everyone was there, myself included. I really enjoyed their last album and embarrassingly didn't realize they put out a new album last week until I read about it elsewhere. Most of their set comprised of the new album and I only noticed one song from prior releases. It was a very good, albeit short set. They are very musically gifted and looked like they had a ball playing. And while leaving we got see them pack up their van while blasting Journey for all of Cambridge to enjoy. I wish I brought my camera to take video of that (it was a real cool scene, and it was also snowing).
Drunk 70 year-old: [kept Shhh'ing anyone who talked during the set, even during breaks between songs (I wanted to punch him in the face, but I saw what Bob Barker did to Happy Gilmore so I decided to play it safe)]

Via Audio
Me: At least half of the crowd took off after the Headlights set. Their loss. I don't think I've seen Via Audio before, and that's too bad because they were fucking excellent. I'm not going to try to describe them musically, because it would just be an insult to what they did on stage (and because I'm sucky at reviewing music). I'll just say that there was much dancing and hand clapping in the crowd. Check out their MySpace to give them a listen, and if they come to your city/town then I highly suggest you check them out.
Drunk 70 year-old: [somehow got in front of us and kept losing balance and falling into us] [definitely played air guitar on more than one occasion (that was rad)] [also raised his beer over his head without spilling it several times (very impressive)]

The show was excellent all around, and the old guy made it more interesting. At first I thought he was related to someone in one of the bands because old people aren't usually out after the Wheel and Jeopardy, but since he took off after the houselights came up, I just don't know.

(In conclusion, I should not try to write anything when I'm done like that. But I made one good point, go see Via Audio if they come around your burg.)

Ask and ye shall receive

On Wednesday I may have taken a little credit for Barack Obama's recent democratic nominee primary/caucus victories (eleven in a row as of this writing). So to offset my growing ego I decided to give something back, an offer to give more endorsements to the other little people out there. Yesterday I just received my first request. Here's the e-mail:

Hi Jonathan,

Congratulations on all your accomplishments in last few months! I noticed you may be very busy. Are you still teaching at Dance Spectrum? If you are, Jessica would like to continue her lessons with you. She is done with her soccer season and looking to start dancing again. Please let us know if you are available. Thank you.

Su

Some people would say that Su sent this e-mail to my address thinking I was Jonathan that worked at Dance Spectrum and appeared on Dancing With the Stars. I am not. He's a sellout. And those people are wrong.

I would say Su knows talent when he reads it, and would like me to endorse Jessica's dancing ability, especially if she expects to be taught by some guy who was on TV. Consider it done Su.

Jessica the dancer/soccer player is endorsed by White Boys Can Dance.

Who's next?

I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin'

Two weeks ago I posted the official White Boys Can Dance democratic presidential nominee endorsement for Barack Obama. Since then he's rallied off ten straight primary/caucus wins. I guess the dozens of hits I get from Google each day looking at my Rick Rude/Billy Mays picture is really fueling his campaign.

Who wants an endorsement?

She Works Hard for Equality

Donna Summer's "She Works Hard For The Money" isn't actually about working hard for the money as it is a social commentary on the state of race relations in the United States of America. Or so that's what I thought while bowling on Sunday. And yes, I was drinking.

Upon re-watching the video this morning I realized I had to tweak my initial assessment. But I didn't want to change my opening statement because it's probably the most intelligent sounding thing I've ever written. Let's discuss.

First the video:

Now the breakdown:

Intro
-Fade in to an hazy image of a woman dancing
-Cut to alarm clock and our protagonist waking up

Racism Meter: low


Chorus 1
-Various scenes of protagonist heading to work interacting with white people
-Cuts of Donna Summer singing chorus
-Protagonist starts scrubbing floor in a hallway

Racism Meter: a little racist


Verse 1
-Protagonist opens diner for business
-Donna Summer sings some more at the diner, no wait staff to be found
-Protagonist walks by counter only to have white man strike her buttocks, she gives a half-hearted smile

Racism Meter: a little more racist


Chorus 2
-Protagonist shown sewing at what can only be described as a Nike factory
-Donna Summer shown singing by punch clock, protagonist can't bear to look at her
-Protagonist shown walking home with groceries inter-cut with shots of Donna Summer
-Children are shown playing catch on front lawn

Racism Meter: still racist


Verse 2
-Protagonist watches Donna Summer sing through barred windows quite racistly
-Protagonist makes dinner for rotten kids who are fighting at the dinner table
-Protagonist goes into bedroom, feels up picture of a dancer (possible lesbian tendencies?)
-Rotten kids still fighting

Racism Meter: pretty racist, and somewhat negligent


Chorus 3
-Montage of protagonists likely typical day, pretty terrible

Racism Meter: not much racism here


Verse 3
-Protagonist falls to ground, Donna Summer assists protagonist to feet
-Protagonist gets into the back-off stance and backs away
-Some sort of choreographed sewing is going on
-Protagonist returns to home that has been robbed, drops her shit, assumingly loses mind
-Donna Summer tries to forcibly enter house?

Racism Meter: very racist


Guitar Solo
-Dream sequence where protagonist is dancing in street with a multicultural ensemble
-There may or may not have been some jazz hands involved

Racism Meter: far less racist


Chorus 4
-Donna Summer singing on balcony above the dance production that's taking place in the street below
-Protagonist walks away clearly disgusted after realizing that "urbanites" have joined in her good times

Racism Meter: confirmed racist


And the conclusion:

I guess my initial assessment was pretty astute, even after enjoying a few adult beverages. I hope this makes you think a little bit today. And I know I learned a lesson. What the lesson is, I'm not exactly sure. But I think it involves not being a racist.

Ruh Roh!

As I mentioned in Tuesday's post, I'm going to be really busy the next couple weeks, so don't be surprised if/when my posting output greatly diminishes. That being said, I've lined up a few guests to hopefully fill in for me. First up is my cousin Billy, who resides in Sweetwater, Texas. Take it away Billy.

This past Tuesday the Westminster Kennel Club crowned Uno, a 15 inch Beagle, best in show. That's all well and good, but as a moral member of society I am outraged and offended in their decision to broadcast this debaucherious event on television, where children could watch. For those out of the loop, I have obtained some photographic evidence that will clue you into what I'm talking about. Due to the NSFW nature of the images, I have decided to post them after the jump. [I removed the jump due to it screwing up the layout of the whole blog -Jon]

You can clearly see that dog's bulge. How disgusting!


Why hasn't the FCC stepped in?


Some people would call this a dog show, I would go as far as to call it a peep show.

I work with some classy people

I wrote this earlier today while out of the office. Now that I'm back I've decided to post it.

I'm on the road most of the rest of February so expect sporadic posts from me, like normal. I really didn't feel like doing any work last week and really felt like writing a bunch, so that's where all the output came from.

I'm actually at another office right now without internet access, so I'm writing this shit in Notepad. 1981's state of the art technology still used in the 21st century. Spell check? Who needs that shit? Not me. Notepad baby. Use it. Love it.

So back to what I'm trying to get at. I was walking around the office and saw this:

What's that on the windowsill?

Is that what I think it is?

Holy shit! Someone left a clearly used bottle of massage oil (classy lube) out in the middle of the office.

What kind of office is this? Is that a sign of what happens after hours? What kind of company do I work for that obviously has no problem with used marital aids lying around in the open? I'm no prude, but in the working world there's a little thing called sexual harassment, where any uptight biddy can claim they are being harassed over the littlest thing. "Hey Mary, I like your new haircut." Sexual Harassment! "Hi Jessica, those are some sharp new pants." Sexual Harassment!

Now how about a real life example? I swear on my unborn children that my company once employed a wackjob who said another employee's seeing-eye dog sexually harassed her by sniffing her crotch. How do I know this? Because HR told me the story.

Bonus corporate tip: get in good with HR by any means necessary and always be on their good side. You must trust me on this.

Anyway so I've been here for awhile and am pretty bored. I head up to the second floor to check it out and see a couch in a back room:

I'm more of a night person, so I'm always tired before 2PM, so I decide to lay down. As I'm about to lay down a vision of the bottle of massage oil pops into my head. I don't want to speculate, but I'm pretty sure that was some sort of premonition advising me against lying down. Now it all adds up. Ewwwwww... I need to wash my hands.

Equinsu Ocha

Hello reader. My name is Jon. If you couldn't tell, I'm white. Not full blooded, but when census time rolls around, that's the box I check off. And if you saw me walking down the street you would agree with that designation (based on appearance, not walking like I have a stick up my ass). Why am I bringing this up? Because as a privileged Caucasian member of society there are certain words and phrases that I am not allowed to use. Well, I can actually use any words that I want (and frequently do), but because of past use by fellow Caucasians, some words are rightfully off limits. That's being said, I wondered if there was a situation appropriate for me to use one such word. That's right, the most controversial word that I can think of. So I asked The Assimilated Negro.

And one final note. Black people, you need to come up with something better than honky as a racial slur for white people. It's just doesn't carry the same weight. Same thing with cracker. I'm not as offended as I should be. Actually, I don't really get offended at much, so maybe it's just me? But probably not.

Living Dead Attack Super Bowl

BOSTON (WBCD) -- Since the infamous "wardrobe malfunction" in 2004, halftime at the Super Bowl has been mostly a ho-hum affair. Considered edgy in their respective primes, The Rolling Stones and Paul McCartney followed the two subsequent years with safe, family-friendly performances. Even the oft-controversial Prince was mostly kept in check during his performance in Miami last year. However all of this changed this past Sunday during the halftime performance that was supposed to feature Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

Instead home viewers with high definition television sets were shocked to see reanimated corpses on stage performing cuts from Tom Petty's solo album Full Moon Fever along with an additional song. When reached for comment, the halftime show producer Don Mischer responded "That was Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers out there, I swear." Despite reassurances most of the nation agrees that it was the living dead on stage, and not members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. "I hate using the zed word, but I swear there were zombies on stage." responded South Boston resident Tommy McCarthy when questioned about the performance. He added "However, that did sound an awful lot like Tom Petty. Maybe the zombies were lip syncing like Paul Abdul?"

Scientists in the Glendale area have yet to explain this phenomenon, but urge the public not to panic. "This appears to be an isolated incident as no further cases have been reported." stated Dr. Stephen Leung, a professor of biology at Arizona State University. He added "We are doing everything we can to find the cause of this condition, and if necessary a cure." This response has done little to quell the furor on the internet.

In fact thousands of theories have already emerged on the internet just days after the performance. One of the most common stems from news of Asteroid 2007 TU24 closely passing the Earth last week. Astronomical message boards have been ablaze with posts debating the materials Asteroid 2007 TU24 was comprised of and the effects it would have on biological life on Earth. On one such message board, Space-Talk, the poster Spock<369 suggested this theory, "I viewed the event [asteroid passing the Earth] at home using my Celestron NexStar 8 SE and detected a faint purple-ish [sp] glow emanating from the object. As this object did not enter or even graze our atmosphere, the glow could have only come from the object emitting some sort of cosmic radiation. This radiation surely is the cause of the sudden reanimation of the deceased."

Experts did find it strange that the undead performers seemed more interested in playing with the instruments on stage than feasting on the flesh of the crowd surrounding the stage. "Perhaps these particular specimens prefer their food aged like a fine wine or cognac?" pondered noted zombie expert Kenneth Foree, referring to the mostly young crowd that surrounded the stage.

A press release from Tom Petty's record label Warner Bros. Records reads: Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers were the scheduled performers, and did in fact perform at the Bridgestone Super Bowl XLII Halftime show. The unfounded rumors of zombies playing instead of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers are simply untrue. Mr. Petty would like it noted that he is alive and in good health and thanks everyone for their support during this ordeal. He would also like to offer his respect to all deceased people, reanimated or not.

Ebony and Ivory

While driving to my polling location to vote yesterday I was almost sideswiped which would have put me into oncoming traffic. I would have been horribly injured and probably would have died as a result. Fuck that. Don't let "the man" fool you. Voting is for squares.

Does that mean I'm going to stop paying attention to the primary coverage? Fuck and no. I stayed up until 3AM this morning watching CNN. This shit is exciting. Well all except watching Wolf Blitzer stumble over almost every word that came out of his bearded face. That was sad. It's also really enjoyable to see the in-studio pundits not knowing what the hell is going on. CNN, please hire me as an in-studio pundit. I come fairly cheap and can bullshit with the best of them. Here's an example:

[begin scene]
[the date is March 4th]
[news rolls in that Obama wins Texas despite being a 10-point underdog]
(jaws are agape in the studio)
Me: Well, I saw it coming because Texans are simple god-fearing folks, with honest down home values. They also don't want anyone messing with them and I feel Obama's campaign messed with them far less than the Clinton campaign. Oh yeah, they're also suckers for cowboy hats.
(I pull out the following picture)

[end scene]

How about those chops CNN? And I swear that if I see this dialogue on March 4th you are so sued.

Which now leads me to announce up the official White Boys Can Dance democratic presidential nominee endorsement. Actually I'm going to let John Cutter handle it.

Always bet on black.

That's right white devils, Barack Hussein Obama. And yes, the timing of this announcement was intentional and is sure to shake this race to it's core. But let me get serious here for a second. Democrats, gather around and take a knee or sit Native American-style, your choice. Why are you voting for Hillary? ... Really? That's wonderful. Now shut up for a second and think about this little nugget. She's too polarizing of a candidate. If she's the nominee people will come out and vote republican just because they hate her. Hell, one of the republican pundits said last night they would much rather run against Hillary because of how most of the country feels about her. I'm telling you right now she will not win if she's the candidate.

Now why am I endorsing Obama? Here's my simple three-part answer.

1. Well despite what I just said about ignoring the issues when it came to Hillary, Barack and I share more common views on the issues than any of the other candidates.

2. Have you watched any of his speeches? I caught his speech after losing the New Hampshire primary and it honestly gave me chills. Despite it being a concession speech, he read that thing with the fire and conviction as if he won the damn thing.

3. He's got Stevie. Not just the tunes, but the man himself.

I know that isn't a very strong argument, but getting deeper into the nuances of my selection would be far more tedious and therefore boring. And that's not my style, my style is questioning my sexuality for humor's sake, making Simpsons references, and calling people retards. Hell, look at yesterdays post that promoted voting, or was it promoting vaginas? In reality it was promoting both, which is of course the American Dream.

But seriously, vote. And also seriously, I did almost get sideswiped and die.

V is for...

...voting, you sick bastards. It's Super Tuesday so if your state is holding a primary then get your ass out and vote. That is all.

Boy, those Germans have a word for everything

Unlike the rest of New England I'm not suicidal, depressed, or even shocked that the Patriots lost the Super Bowl. The simple truth is that the Giants played less shittily and deserved to win. There were some questionable calls early, but the Pats still had three opportunities during the Giants final drive to put the game away. They didn't, so better luck next year. Now everyone needs to shut the fuck up.

I'm not saying this because my team lost. As you can see above I'm mildly affected, if at all. In fact I had a pretty sweet weekend (including last night's festivities). I'm just sick of hearing all the back and forth over the Patriots. There are three camps that contribute to my rage.

1. Pats fans
At this point I literally hate 96% of you. I've said this before, but just because the team you are rooting for is doing well doesn't give you any additional pull or rank in the world of fandom. Quit being such douchenozzles brah.

2. Pats haters
You are equally if not more annoying than Pats fans. 95% of the shit you talk is about how annoying and insufferable Pats fans are, which somehow isn't annoying or insufferable. Thanks for bringing something new to the conversation. Wait, we're racist too? Zing! Please get some new material for next season. Thanks.

3. Media
Week 1-3: Spy(irrelevant suffix)! The Pats are cheaters!
Week 4-playoffs: 18-0 The Pats are the greatest team ever!
Super Bowl: Giants Win??! Biggest upset of all time!
Let's give Mercury Morris some more face time!

You fuckers.

(Bonus)
4. Red Sox fans
You really don't need to start a Yankees Suck chant at little Jimmy's birthday party because one of the 7 year-old kids wore a Yankees hat. It's tired and just sad at this point.

That's all the rage I could fit into a poorly thought out/poorly written post today.

Congratulations again Giants, you earned it.

And if there's a primary in your state tomorrow go vote. I'll definitely have something to say about that shit because it's getting serious.

Oh shit! I forgot...

How embarrassing! A year ago yesterday, terrorists guerrilla marketers placed bombs Lite-Brites featuring the Mooninite characters from the popular cult television program Aqua Teen Hunger Force all over the city of Boston. In a very well thought out plan that was obviously not an overreaction to the colorful but unknown threats, the city shut down bridges and major roadways grinding the traffic in the city to a halt for hours. That was a fun day.

The same guerrilla marketing campaign took place in nine additional major cities, yet Boston was the only one to overreact and thus ended up looking like quite the fool. As expected the city was a little upset that it looked like a chump and naturally decided to sue Turner Broadcasting. Turner settled and all is well. All this over a movie that unfortunately sucked.

Now unlike most residents, I easily understand why everyone hates us. Let's go over my quick checklist:

Awful accent ...pissah
Asshole drivers ...oh yeah
Douchebag sports fans ...check
Cocky and arrogant ...you betcha
Perceived intelligence ...indubitably
Racists ...a stereotype that just won't die

In Boston we love to use the nickname The Hub of the Universe, yet we get all freaked out over some Lite-Brites hanging around our city. Enjoy the next couple days Boston-haters. If the Pats win, we'll all (including me) have to suffer the 19-0 douchebaggery that is sure to follow.

Face the Music

So I may have started one or two electrical fires at work today... but it's cool because I'm still alive. And isn't that the most important thing? Just don't ask me if anyone else survived, because once I saw flames I ran to my car and got the fuck out of Dodge. I guess I'll find out tomorrow when I pull in the parking lot and there's either an intact building or just smoldering remains. I could probably find out on the news tonight, but I have a life and don't have time for queer shit like "fire safety" and "news".

Now the real reason that you probably came here this week: rumors and speculation about a New Kids on the Block reunion. This weekend the story broke that NKOTB (an acronym that I came up with; I bet it catches on) would be reuniting. Then on Monday Idolator reported via Danny Wood's MySpace page that they would not be reuniting. Now today that post is missing from DWood's MySpace page and I don't know what to think (yeah, I check his MySpace occasionally, you know for news and stuff). Maybe I'll just head over to the Cask and ask Donnie:

And even if they reunited and went on tour, I couldn't go. I wouldn't have anything to wear. I never did get my New Kids t-shirt.

Happy MLK Jr. Day

I'm at work today because my company is obviously run by racists; I should fight them. Maybe tomorrow, the day is almost over. And speaking of fighting racists, Barack Obama is fighting attempts to smear his candidacy through a series of e-mails that propagate falsities about his person. Check it out here. My favorite part of the page is this quote from Mr. Obama:

"In the internet age, there are going to be lies that are spread all over the place. I have been victimized by these lies. Fortunately, the American people are, I think, smarter than folks give them credit for."

I think your a cool shit Barack, and sorry to rain on your parade, but you obviously forgot who was reelected four years ago by the same American people you speak so optimistically of.

How many times have I fought beside you Gyro?

The New Hampshire presidential primary is going on today so that must be the hot topic of the day, correct? Wrong bitches! Since I fall in the male 18-35 demographic, it's the return of American Gladiators. I was "sick" yesterday so I didn't get a chance to write up my thoughts on the American Gladiators redux which premiered Sunday night. Because of that, I also haven't checked out any reviews or blogs, as not to sway my opinion or allow me to subconsciously steal any ideas. That being said, a bunch of my friends have been e-mailing pretty much non-stop about it the last two days, so if necessary I'm going to steal from them instead.

Hosts: Hulk Hogan & Laila Ali
This is probably already on the tubes somewhere, but while watching Sunday night I suggested taking a shot every time Hogan says "brother". After hearing the Hulkster drop "brother" about five times in 10 seconds, my neighbor thought it was a bad idea. After watching last night, I would also add him saying "sister" to the female competitors as a shot opportunity. I'm definitely going to do this. Other than that he was pretty good, he seemed very enthusiastic with his personal life in shambles. Laila Ali was alright. I do like that she could probably knock any of the competitors the fuck out if they mouthed off to her (men included).

Play-by-play/Color: Former Gladiator?
I don't know who this guy is, but I don't like him. He sounds like some X-games reject. I'm just waiting for him to say that something is tubular. Maybe they found a job for Malibu after all? (I know everyone has seen this, but I had to embed it)

Gladiators
First things first, some of the female gladiators are surprisingly attractive. I don't know why, but I sort of expected she-males like in the original series. Nice work NBC. Now let me break a couple gladiators down for you.

Titan

This guy is Hitler's wet dream. And to führer further promote suspicion I'm pretty sure on the original series there was a giant black dude that went by Titan. I guess Adolf here wanted to take the name back for the master race. Not cool.

Hellga

This woman is built like a Cadillac, large yet sporty. Sadly I don't think we'll see much of Hellga, she looks like she can only compete in half of the events. I just can't see her competing in Hang Tough or scaling the Wall.

Justice

Hands down my favorite. The motherfucker is rocking some Kid 'n Play shit on his head, but I won't deduct points for that. Maybe we should call it a frauxhawk?

Crush

!!Innuendo Alert!! I'd let her crush me any day. Wasn't that stupid? That's because I stole that one. But seriously, if Crush does read this, my e-mail address is on the right.

Wolf

I hated him two seconds after he started howling. Seriously, what type of man thinks it's cool to howl? The correct answer is no type of man. There is only one acceptable exception: teenage werewolves who are star basketball players.

Contestants
Big Country
I sort of liked this guy the way I like Cletus on the Simpsons. But I'm happy he lost because I was sick of hearing about Tennessee and all the redneck doings that constitutes his life.

Skateboarder Guy
I was also happy that he lost so badly. It just reinforces the theory that skateboarders are not real athletes, like cheerleaders.

The woman who was injured 24 seconds into the season
Wow, sucks to be her.

Moli

Doing the bull dance, feeling the flow. Working it. Working it.

Events
Assault
I'm still up in the air on this one. I like the idea that the gladiators get propelled into the water if the contender hits the target, but it seems extra challenging since the contender has to manually load the weapons. That just takes a ton of time. And I noticed last night that the Assault course was sponsored by Nerf. Does that mean there will be a possible Assault home game? Because I would be all over that.

Powerball
They really screwed the pooch on this one, the scoring cylinders are way too large now. This allows contenders to throw the balls in the cylinders instead of having to fight their way through the gladiators to earn points.

The Eliminator
They will need to revamp it next season, it's way too long and boring. Ooooh, they're swimming under fire. How extreme! Plus none of the contestants yet have figured out how to dive into the water and let the momentum carry them under the fire. And the lack of gladiator participation is a big letdown. They need to bring back the chutes with gladiators behind them before the finish line. I very much enjoyed seeing Gemini fuck people up who thought they were going to win.

Reality production
It's pretty annoying. Just as about an event is about to start they turn up the dramatic music and fade into a commercial. This is American Gladiators, not Temptation Island. If I weren't watching on a DVR, I'd be pissed.

More to come.