The Futon Report

Be honest. You thought the same thing when new Mayor Kwame text messages surfaced. You were thinking of Huel Perkins’ narration of the first batch. Haha, damn that! Never busted!

That brings us to tonight’s “Hell yeah!” moment. On FOX 2, Perkins followed through like a professional and READ THE NEW ONES on the news broadcast following Game 2. It was sublime. It was brilliant journalism. It was … a little arousing, actually.

I don’t have the video (yet), but you know damn well it’ll surface eventually. These things take about 24 hours — at least 48 hours for the love remix version, according to Internet by-laws.

One thing’s for sure. If Huel Perkins is ever looking for a second job, he could sell a line of text-to-speech software programs that turn blog posts into romantic sonnets.

What’d you think it was? Sinners.

(Sorry, I saw the source photo, and the GIF just animated itself.)

I’ve known about this for a couple months, but it was finally announced that Blogcritics — an online magazine that’s been around since 2002, and one I’ve written for since 2004 — was bought by Technorati. So now BC finally has a chance to be seen, and Technorati finally has content of its own.

And in probably the worst timed decision of the century, I decided to stop acting as BC’s sports editor back in June, just because I didn’t have time for it. With Deadspin and SPORTSbyBROOKS and Toledo Free Press and Treehouse Fort — occasionally — this here weblogsitepage, it got to a point where I said, “do I really need this? Why push myself any further? Aw, dammit, I have a real job too!”

I still write for BC (see?) as it’s a great venue for the non-sportsy thoughts. Yes, I have knowledge and takes on things outside of men wearing tight trousers kicking balls. Most people probably don’t believe that of the 100 columns I wrote back in college, maybe only two of them were fully about sports. Although in all fairness, I do think about 46 of them mentioned some kind of inept Detroit Tigers or Arizona Diamondbacks pitcher.

But look at it. BC was my roots. My stompin’ grounds. It’s all I had right out of college to publish columns beyond a Blogspot address. And now it’s Technorati’s. That’s just too cool. Now if they can just weed out some of the worst writers on the site, we got ourselves a cash cow.

But it shows how tough it is for a dude or dudes to shine at the top without some kind of financial backing. Yes, the Internet is just the same as it was in the non-Internet. Any good blogger or bloggers are eventually snatched up by some entity with dollars and servers and better web designers. If you ever see folks who maintains a blog for 10 years, you know they’re either (a) getting enough money from advertisers, (b) doing some other side project that’s reaping them more money, or (c) extremely sucky writers.

But the other refreshing truism is that the definitively awesome cream will always, always rise to the top. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to spend three hours coming up with a nickname for Armando Galarraga that I can share with the six readers of The Big Tilde.

The answer may surprise you! Or vomit. Take your pick.

(HT: My co-worker Ryan)

Chris Rock? Sure, funny. Jon Stewart? Definitely funny. Dane Cook?

If by funny you mean “loud and repetitive to the point that you want to pry off your fingernails with plastic sporks until he’s off the stage,” then indeed. LAUGH. RIOT!

Oh my sweet hackeysackin’ Mohammed, if Dane Cook is the best thing we have in stand-up today, then that must mean Mike Birbiglia, Steven Wright, and Jim Gaffigan are all dead. I didn’t even read their obituaries! Shows you how observant I am. ◼ MSNBC (via Fark, which — with this link — brought me down harder than a satchel of lead-based potatoes)

He made such a convincing argument that he’s a great lover, that I now want to be his girlfriend. And I’m not even gay.

(I think it was the way he pronounced “assume.”)

You know, this is how World War I started. All the European Nations began bickering with each other, and before you know it … BLAM! Ferdinand was gone.

So it’s Will’s final week on Deadspin, and he wrote a missive about Jason McIntyre, Mike Florio, (feat. AJ Daulerio), and other sports blogs trying to get mainstream acceptance. Then McIntyre responded with a “no response,” then Matt Ufford fired back at McIntyre, then Dave Lozo fired back at Leitch. And they all have some great points, and also really missed some of their targets. But all I’m saying is if one of The Dugout guys gets shivved, this shit’s awn. Read more

"I think when you die, your soul goes to a garage in Buffalo.” — George Carlin, 1978

While this bit might be more appropriate for the situation, this is in fact a sportively-themed blogsite, so let’s embed this one:

George Carlin is one of my two favorite comedians of all time. Granted, I only got acquainted with him in 2001 with “Complaints And Grievances” as well as seeing him live in 2003, I quickly became familiar with his earlier work, such as A Place For My Stuff perhaps the world’s only perfect comedy album.

His “Seven Words You Can Never Say On Television” schtick (notice how he never called it “Seven Dirty Words” — that was a media-created title) might have been his Stairway To Heaven, but that bit was merely one of the many ways he criticized our use of the English language (”Try to pay attention to the language we’ve all agreed on.”) It was as if the man just sat down and pored through dictionaries and idioms coming up with ideas.

George Carlin was definitely one of my biggest inspirations. (So if you hate my shit, you know who to blame.) Good sir, I don’t mourn your death — because he certainly doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that’d want us to be sad about a human death — but rather salute your entire oeuvre.

Hey guys, I just got the greatest idea for a Russian Roulette game for kids:

1. Buy one (1) bag of
Kellogg’s™ Lego® Fruit Flavored Snacks
2. Buy one (1) Lego®
3. Mix them together
4. Each kid takes a turn picking one at random and swallowing it

(Ages 6 and up, some assembly required) ◼ → Dave Barry

M’kay. So the Tigers played the Diamondbacks. The Indians played the Reds. The Cavaliers left it all out on the court yet they won’t go on to face the Pistons. The Red Wings are in Stanley’s Final Cup or something like that. There’s a lot I coulda written this weekend, if I had the will or drive to write about them.

So to keep the place warm, until something piques my undying sarcasm in the sports world, I’ll veer off on a controlled tangent and share the similarities between the movie Airplane! and the 1950s cult classic Zero Hour! While I knew of some of the copycatted lines, this particular video I didn’t see until tonight. Video should be clear. Video should load if you have enough bandwidth. You’ll have to decide. You’ll have to decide. You’ll have to decide.

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