You’re a Champion, Brother!

February 5, 2008 at 1:42 am | Posted in misc, Uncategorized, whitney | Leave a comment

I agree with Brian: more hunks! Which is why I have been tuning in every week to this little retro gem:american gladiators (Ok, so these aren’t the <i>actual</i> gladiators that I’ve been watching, but after minutes of a really depressing scan through google images, I decided this is close enough.  Trust me, you get the general idea) This new season of American Gladiators comes on just before this great new game show about ruining lives with lie-detector tests that I watch obsessively and immorally. Finally, the corporate giants of NBC recognized the lack of jobs for female body builders (the dudes can go into politics, so how’s that fair?) and brought back everyone’s favorite Nerf-based obstacle show. Writer’s strike, Shmiter’s strike. The Gladiators will not be stopped!  Hosted by everyone’s favorite brother, Hulk Hogan, and some other lady, American Gladiators continues to dazzle and amaze 20-somethings with feats of conveyor belt running, tennis ball dodging, and fire swimming .wolf This guy likes to sniff his competetors. That’s his thing because he’s called “The Wolf.” Also, he howls. crush And this is the one my boyfriend loves. I think it’s the asymmetrical hair and husky voice. Plus, her name’s Crush, so she kind of demands it.  Helga kind of looks like this: helga  And as one lovely and articulate comment pointed out: “she is one nasty lookin girl, i wouldnt hit it with a dump truck” To which a delightful fan responded: “hey these women are hott and very sexy but they are tough athletes that hold the true name of american gladiators…for those of you that say she’s big..hell ya she is Bet she could whoop your ***! She is solid woman baby!” So, as you can see, tensions run high on the Helga message board. To solve the controversy I will point out that one time she was yanked off a platform backwards into the water and we saw her Swedish underpants. So, clearly, she’s awesome and sexy and I would hit it. With a golf cart, even.

Where are they now?

July 15, 2007 at 11:54 pm | Posted in brian, greg, misc | Leave a comment

The spotlight cast by the sports media is said to provide longevity to certain individuals who have excelled in their respective sports. Unfortunately (for these sports “heros”), the reality is that the media spotlight is fleeting.

I would like to begin a series of articles dedicated to briefly regaining that spotlight.

Dale Earnhardt (not junior)

Known for his success in the NASCAR Winston Cup Series, Earnhardt won seventy-six individual races and seven championships during his career. A few of the many accolaids Dale earnhardted :

-1979 Rookie of the Year

-Four-time IROC Champion

-Motorsports Hall of Fame Inductee (2002)

-International Motorsports Hall of Fame Inductee (2006)

Without a doubt Dale Earnhardt was a great race car driver during his career, but the point of this article is to find out what he’s up to now.

Where is Dale Earnhardt now? He’s Dead.

RIP big E.

Barbaro (the horse)

He captured our imagination and our hearts. Then our hearts and imagination broke when his leg did. That was one sad day. And it only got sadder since they had to euthanize him. I think they should outlaw rodeos and horse racing. If you don’t agree, then you’ll have to live with a lot of blood on your hands and hearts.

Best. PostSecret. Ever.

May 22, 2007 at 9:09 pm | Posted in misc, sherpa | 2 Comments


good luck, okur

April 29, 2007 at 2:14 am | Posted in aaron d.w., football (soccer), misc | Leave a comment

brian wasn’t even lying when he told me that messi’s goal was like maradona. this video highlights that messi and maradona ran the same distance in the same amount of time and finished with the same move on the goalie.

also, it seems like a waste of time to try and beat out the whole country of china in telekinetic support. i want okur to be great, but i don’t think i can help.

and i saw my first episode of numb3rs last night. it was stupid. brian and i always used to joke that it’s my favorite show because i do math, but i’m going to have to officially put an end to that.

texting championships?

April 24, 2007 at 12:56 am | Posted in brian, misc, olympics | 1 Comment

my brother use to brag about his texting ability. if i remember his story correctly, he was in a room in san francisco with eleven other people and he texted his way through eleven separate conversations without any of the (winning?) eleven having to wait more than thirteen seconds between the sending of their text and the arrival of aaron’s.

all of us know someone who claims to be the fastest texter around. too bad there’s not some type of competition to measure how fast they really are, i used to think. then i found out about the lg national texting championship.

the lg national texting championship is exactly what you think it is. some random message like “faster than a speeding bullet” or “OMG, nd 2 talk asap” appeared on an over-head screen and you had to text the message, with correct punctuation and spelling, to the judge. morgan pozgar, a thirteen year-old girl form pennsylvania, beat out more than 200 competitors to claim the texting crown. she also won $25,ooo. what’s she going to do with the money? “i’m going to go shopping and buy lots of clothes,” said pozgar.

but can we trust a texting championship sponsored by lg? the competition was actually an advertising campaign for lg’s new phone which features a full keyboard. this is not to take anything away form morgan pozgar who proved to be the best texter under the rules of the competition, but what about competitions for people with conventional mobile phones? apparently ang chuang yan holds the record for non-predictive text messaging on a normal phone beating out some guy from utah.

hopefully we’ll have some sort of competition–one that isn’t a front for some phone company promotion–that can accurately determine the best texters in the world. then we can petition for it to become an olympic sport. regardless, morgan pozgar is a champion. i hope she buys some sweet clothes.

…biggest sports event of the season…

March 31, 2007 at 4:00 am | Posted in fespn, misc, pillowtalk | 2 Comments

the 177th semi annual general conference for the LDS chuch is happening this weekend. at first glance one would incorrectly infer that there is nothing sports related to this event. wrong.

what’s more sporty than old men (average 60-167 years old [i just made that up, but it’s surprisingly accurate]) dueling in a verbal battle? so, it may seem a little dry, but one has to take into account that as age ravishes our mortal frames the last tools of battle that we’re left with are our words. I mean, obviously we won’t see any UFC fighting during those 2 hour blocks. But the battle will be with nouns and pronouns.

this is the real deal. it’s all played off very nonchalantly because of legality issues. the bets on this sports event bring in a high percentage of annual gambling stats. if you decide to participate in watching this event you  might see the scorekeepers/statkeepers. They wear headsets, and are called “interpreters”.

what can you bet on? lots of things. the number of times each individual will use key words like “spirit” “love” “charity”. The odds aren’t high with those bets, but if you’re looking for the really high stakes you can predict the exact  time an individual speaker will consume with their words. Fun family pots about who will conduct which session are also common.

if you’re too busy to participate in this riveting action, you can always see the results a few weeks after conference in the conference reports. there is a section that shows the play by play action and gives a final breakdown of all the stats.

Barbaro vs. Mr. Ed: youth in eyes, duh

February 9, 2007 at 2:29 am | Posted in lee, misc | Leave a comment

I don’t really care that Barbaro died last week.  In a way, I was kind of glad.  I like animals and animal abuse disturbs me (I even did a stint as a vegetarian.  I don’t know how much it counts, though, because all I did was substitute meat in my diet with doughnuts.  Whatever.  I was doing it for the cause.), but I got tired of hearing about him taking turns for the worse followed by a turn for the better.  I started to wonder if I even wanted him alive, as it seemed they were just causing him months of pain by keeping  him alive.  And why were they going to so much effort and spending so much money to keep him alive?  So he could become a professional fornicator.

Horse racing is jacked.

My Super Sunday

February 6, 2007 at 3:44 am | Posted in clif, football (american), misc | 2 Comments

So, I spent Super Bowl Sunday in a bar which is something I swore I’d never do again. The last time I did was Super Bowl XXXVIII (that’s 38, I think) when the Patriots beat the Panthers. It was a party put on by some friends in a dive bar. There were so many people that it was impossible to see the game, and most of those people were chain-smoking. It got so bad that I had to go outside at halftime for some fresh air and a cigarette. That’s bad. Consequently, I missed the infamous ‘wardrobe malfunction’ and vowed never to spend the Super Bowl in a bar again. So, when my brother asked if I wanted to go to Port ‘o Call (a place I’ve sworn off) with him and his friends, I had no problem telling him to cram it. But, then he made his friends change venues to suit my distastes and I had to comply.

Lumpy’s (where we ended up) isn’t a bad place to watch sports. If you get there early enough you can get a table in the basement with your own plasma big screen and access to pool and foosball tables. Those come in handy when you’re trying to kill the two hours before kickoff. Have you ever tuned in to the game that early? They start so early that they have to fill up space with the most pointless shit. There was a half hour story about how Hines Ward winning MVP in last year’s game was the best thing to ever happen to Korea. I’m not kidding. They did, however, show the best thing I’ve ever seen in a pre-game show: young Peyton tango dancing!

Man, l’il Peyton has some moves. I wish I could bring myself to cheer for him. He seems pretty cool.

The bar hired these pretty girls to dress up in Colts and Bears jersey–tailored to show max skin–and go around handing out plastic, beaded necklaces and beer cozies. That’s not so weird, right? But these girls only had enough crap to give to make a couple laps around the bar. I guess they were paid for the full four hours, so they spent the rest of the game going from table to table, trying to make conversation about the game. It was weird and uncomfortable to everyone that wasn’t drunk and/or a pervert. Here’s the transcript of a conversation I had with one in a Colts jersey (made entirely without eye contact):

Her: Hey. Who ya cheering for?

Me: Bears.

Her: Oh, c’mon! Go Colts!

Me: …

Her: What’d you think of the opening kickoff?

Me: That guy’s pretty fast.

Her: Yeah.

Then, after several seconds of awkward silence, she backed away from the table and left to be manhandled by the frat boys at the adjacent table. I don’t really understand why someone would volunteer for that job. I can’t imagine they were being paid much over minimum wage to walk around a stinky bar in skimpy outfits to have lewd comments hurled at them (i.e., “Let’s play football; I’ll be Manning and you be Saturday [the Colts’ center]. Heh, heh.”). And, to my knowledge, they weren’t being tipped for their sparkling conversation.

The waitresses, on the other hand, I totally get. They were cleaning up. We had a party of about twelve and were going through beer and food like it was…the Super Bowl, or something. Our waitress was particularly savvy. She found out who was cheering for whom and whenever either team had a good play, she’d saunter up behind the fans and say, “Great play! How ’bout some shots?” It worked every time. By my estimation, that little trick increased our bill by $200.

In anticipation of a dull game, some of the guys I was with decided to spice it up by taking pre-game bets on everything from the coin toss to the final score. The bet that everyone was most excited about was with which song Prince would open the halftime show. I didn’t get in on this bet because all the songs I knew–Little Red Corvette, Raspberry Beret, Kiss–were taken and the only other song I could think of was Sexy M.F., which I was pretty certain he wouldn’t play. He ended up opening with Let’s Go Crazy which nobody guessed (duh!). We decided to push the bet until he played a song on our list. The next two were covers (Proud Mary and All Along the Watchtower) and who could’ve guessed that? So the winning song was the last: Purple Rain. And the winner of the bet was Stephanie, our waitress.

Wrestling Tragedy

February 1, 2007 at 2:45 am | Posted in misc, whitney | 4 Comments

So my sister used to be an athletic trainer for the high school wrestling team. Let’s list some problems with wrestling that are informed by her experience: ring worm, scabies, lice, athlete’s foot, crabs, and – most recently – this:

Wrestling on hold as herpes outbreak widens:
MINNEAPOLIS (AP) – Minnesota high school wrestling programs were suspended Tuesday because of a widespread herpes outbreak.

Nice. Real nice.

I don’t really get wrestling. The idea of it makes sense because we’ve all had fun pinning our little brothers to the floor and letting long strings of spit get really close to their eyes before sucking it back up. But, the rules and the traditions associated with real wrestling are very strange to me. So in an effort to educate myself (I am, after all, a scholar in the making) here are some facts:
-Wrestling might be the oldest sport ever. It even appears in the Bible when Jacob wrestles an angel (I’m not familiar with this story. Who won? I’m assuming the angel? Was it an angel of The Devil? The Bible is so crazy.)
-It’s often considered a martial art since it can be used in military training.
-At some point, people did it naked. Now they do it with stretchy, little, suspender outfits.
-Tobey on “Degrassi: The Next Generation” almost died because wrestlers are often obsessed with losing weight to compete against smaller boys in suspender outfits. So….they go running with garbage bags as shirts, take laxatives, barf, etc.
-My brother thinks this suspender outfit is so comfortable that he once wore it for a week straight under his clothes before my mom found out and made him take it off.
-It’s called a “singlet.”
-Wrestlers should wear these instead:
That way they can reduce their chances of getting herpes for sure.

Do You Wanna Dance?

January 28, 2007 at 7:15 am | Posted in misc, whitney | Leave a comment

Remember going to dances? There is that awkward time period between about 14 and 16/17 where going to local dances on the weekends was basically your (or, mine at least) source of social activity. I can’t really place why standing with your hands on some stranger’s shoulders and shuffling back and forth seemed so appealing, but I have a suspicion that the main draw – for our little pubescent hearts – might have been the whole physical contact thing. I sort of get dancing…I can understand why someone works towards coordination (and even mutual coordination) and can derive some sort of satisfaction from that. But slowly waving back and forth to Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” might be a little silly.

Okay, so I’m no dancer. Lately I am just getting the hang of this thing called “rhythm” and I’m finally able to move my hands and feet simultaneously. So that’s cool. I’m also pretty good at the twist…like, I’m no John Travolta, but I’ve got the basic moves.

That said, Dance Factory for PS2 has got to be one of the best games ever. I know I’m a little behind on the whole DDR craze, so there’s nothing revolutionary about that statement, but I’ll tell you why Dance Factory is at least 113 times better: you get to choose your own music! So I can jump on little squares to the beat of The Marvelettes! It’s great! The number two reason this game is great is that you do it in the privacy of your own home. Meaning, you A) don’t really look very foolish since it’s only in front of your silly siblings and B) don’t risk the chance of a slow dance with the one nerd you really didn’t want to dance with – you wanted to dance with Rylan Bird! Dammit! Why doesn’t he love you??? – but your mom told you that you have to dance with every boy who gets up the courage to ask, so you have to make up some cruddy small talk while listening to some six minute U2 song, and you hate U2! So you get all the joy of a rare display of coordination, listening to music you like, and a little physical exertion. Awesome.

So…in summary: Dance Factory = Yes. Church supported functions = no.

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