1. I have a scar on my forehead/dent in my skull and a scar under my chin, which are the results of being dropped on my head as a child. Twice. Dropped. On my head. TWICE. I should have been raised by wolves.
2. My parents didn't figure out I needed eyeglasses or that I had had a deadly nut allergy until I was in junior high school. The blinding headaches and throat closing never tipped them off. I should have been raised by wolves.
3. Moxie and milk (take a highball glass, fill with ice, pour half a glass of Moxie brand cola -- a soda as thick and vile as a tongue kiss from homeless maniac who brushes his teeth with dumpster shavings – top off with milk) may have been invented by my father, and is quite possibly my favorite drink. I haven't had one in years.
4. As a child I was kicked out of the following for various infractions: karate class, boxing class, acrobatic dance class (it's a long story), Little League and the Cub Scouts of America.
5. As an adult, I was kicked out of the following for various infractions: most of the better bars in the City of Boston, most of the seedier bars in the City of Boston, libraries, museums, Showcase Cinemas, malls, grocery stores, car dealerships, churches, five star restaurants and almost every gymnasium I've been a member of.
6. I'm fascinated with submarines, conspiracy theories, abandoned amusement parks and movies that were re-cut by the studio.
7. Gun to my head my top five favorite movies are Rocky, Rushmore, The Empire Strikes Back, Die Hard, and either GoodFellas, Blues Brothers, or Heat. I can never decide.
8. Unlike most men my age, I love Rocky II (he drives a Bandit-style Trans Am) and kind of hate Rocky IV (there's no way on God's green earth a piece of shit like Paulie figures out how to reprogram a robot).
9. If I had to live the life of any TV character, I'd choose Thomas Sullivan Magnum. I've said it before and I'll say it again, the man is a former spy who lives for free in a guest house, tools around in a free Ferrari, wears short pants and Tommy Bahama shirts all day, every day and shoots Hawaiians with impunity.
10. Famous movie director, Kevin Smith, has called me a "fag" on more than one occasion and stole the concept of using the word "clownshoe" as an insult from me. Every word is true.
11. I make mix-tapes better than anyone you know or will ever know.
12. When I graduated college I had enough money to buy either a car or a Rolex watch. I bought a Rolex. I have never regretted this decision.
13. I should have joined the service and delayed college. Some time on an aircraft carrier would have done more for my character than playing Madden drunk until 4 in the morning.
14. I'm wildly secretive, which makes writing this list difficult.
15. I think the 70's were the greatest decade ever. As much as I love the instant gratification of new millennium nonsense, things tend to be too complicated or too clean. I miss the simplicity and danger of the disco era.
16. My favorite actors are Burt Reynolds, James Caan, Robert Duvall, Gene Hackman, James Cagney, Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson, Sylvester Stallone and occasionally, Bruce Willis, although he has a lot to answer for.
17. I believe in loyalty above all else. There's a line in The Wild Bunch, "It's not your word, it's who you give it to." I believe in that too.
18. Pneumonia has almost killed me twice. The thing is, Zourases are like vampires, we can't be killed with conventional weapons.
19. I'm obsessed with doing Disney-related research. It all stems from the truly awful, horrific trips I've taken to Disneyland/World. In a lot of ways, I'm a broken child.
20. I'm terrified of air travel. I'm a control freak and the idea of placing my life in the hands of a drunken pilot (I assume all pilots are drinkers. Maybe pill-poppers. You don't strap into the front seat of a thousand mile per hour, winged danger-torpedo without a little something to settle the nerves) makes me want to throw up my shoes. I would feel better if they'd let me sit in the cockpit, that way if there was trouble, I could help out. I'm super helpful.
21. I take ninjas over pirates every damn day.
22. There are good numbers and bad numbers. I don't know if it's OCD, the cumulative effects of the variety of head injuries I sustained as a child, voodoo magic or what, but I feel strongly some numbers are good and some are bad. 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 21, 23, 24, 27 – all good. 2, 13, 17, 22, 43, 47, 70 – all bad. Just take my word for this. 113, 470 – bad. 214,779 – good.
23. Some words are inherently funny. Wagon, sandwich, face, awesome. There are lots more, but you get the idea. Example, "I could go for an awesome-faced sandwich wagon." See? Feel free to play at home.
24. I have a compulsive personality, especially when it comes to TV. I binge on certain ridiculously specific programs then drop them completely. I'll watch nothing but DIY shows about tile work. I'll watch nothing but Battlestar Galactica. I'll watch nothing but true crime on A and E or World War II commando documentaries, then never watch them again. I get sick of everything after a while, everything but Food Network.
25. I have a dazzling array of skills, talents and super powers, but what I'm best at, is being awesome.
Chapter One - Presents abound and excitement is hinted at.
1. Christmas Vacation by Chevy Chase 2. Step Into Christmas by Elton John 3. It Feels Like Christmas by The Muppets 4. You Make It Feel Like Christmas by Neil Diamond 5. Holly Leaves And Christmas Trees by Elvis Presley 6. Baby It's Cold Outside by Zooey Deschanel & Will Ferrell
Chapter Two - The name "Santa" is bandied about and tales of his awesome deeds are discussed.
7. Santa Will Find You by Mindy Smith 8. The Only Gift That I Need by Dashboard Confessional 9. It's Christmas! Let's Be Glad by Sufjan Stevens 10. We Wish You A Merry Christmas by Weezer 11 .Mrs. Santa Claus by Nat 'King' Cole 12. Santa Claus Go Straight to the Ghetto by James Brown 13. I Still Believe In Santa Claus by New Kids On The Block
Chapter Three - More Muppets enter the story.
14. A True Blue Miracle by Cast of Sesame Street 15. Ho Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum by Jimmy Buffett 16. This Christmas by Donny Hathaway 17. Jingle Bell Rock by Wayne Newton
Chapter Four - The big picture (or, let's not take our eyes off the ball).
18. An Old Fashioned Christmas by Frank Sinatra 19. Someday At Christmas by Stevie Wonder 20. Deck The Halls by Bing Crosby 21. Coventry Carol by John Denver 22. Gésu Bambino by Luciano Pavarotti 23. A Cradle In Bethlehem by Nat King Cole
Chapter Five - The Big Finale.
24. The Secret of Christmas by Ella Fitzgerald 25. Happy Holiday/Let's Start The New Year Right/What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? by Mel Torme
Click the title to download.
I hope your Christmas is so awesome, emo kids write songs about how jealous they are of you, and Muppets sing those songs on television.
1. Fantasy football is both the greatest thing invented since fruitpunch in a juicebox and a plague on my life I'll never be able to shake.
2. I've decided Jeff Bridges is the greatest genre actor in my lifetime -- Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (heist movie), King Kong (Italian made monster movie), Tron (nerd computer action movie), Starman (John Carpenter/alien movie), Heaven's Gate (epic western movie), The Big Lebowski (detective/Cohen brothers movie), Iron Man (comic book movie). If he could somehow make a karate movie I'd erect a statue in his honor. In your face, Kurt Russell.
3. Homework: I need three songs -- a party anthem, a killer dance jam, and some slow dance music for the quiet storm / junior prom vibe. Go.
4. I have no idea who to vote for. I may just eliminate the middle man and spend the next four year punching myself in the stomach and setting fire to my paycheck.
5. Isao Saski. He sings theme songs to shows about giant robots and heroic alien fighters. He's one of the main reason why if there was a cartoon war with Japan, we'd lose and probably get our clock cleaned. Listen to the song. Stand up. Clap.
We all know the rules, the time for hype is over. Grudge match. The younger Parker is a 3 to 5 favorite.
Judges: John, Jason, Tim
THE UNDERCARD --
Pentathalon: Five Times The FURY
Tripodi vs. Millard
Events --
3 cup Flip Cup Diamond Beirut (four cip beirut arranged in the diamond formation) Speed Funnel (fastest to finish wins) Thumb Wrestling Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader? (Ten questions taken directly from fifth grade text books in this test of mental dexterity)
To keep things fair there are no feats of strength (as Paul is small and weak) and no tests of speed (as Millard is slow-footed and lumbering).
John is a 2 to 3 favorite.
OVER UNDERS --
Number of times Thomas vomits: 2.5 Number of times anyone vomits: 4.5
Also:
Funnels are constructed and Funnel Yard Dash is open to all.
A gang of French school children was assembled outside my building. They were chain smoking non-filtered cigarettes and drinking red wine. Their leader, a woman, without a beret, presumably their teacher, approached me.
"Excusez-moi? We missed our tour. If you could, can you tell us anything about the school?"
"Harvard?"
"Oui."
"Do any of you speak English?"
"Not very well, no. Can you assist us?"
"Absolutely I can. Across the way is a gate that has Victory or Die written on it. In 1976 George Washington defeated Admiral Yamamoto, Cobra Commander and a gang of blood-thirsty pirates in a vicious sword-fight to win World War II. That building is the Hall of Justice, where, of course the Justice League of America lives. Are you all familiar with the Justice League?"
"Lanterne Verte?"
"Exactly. Green Lantern. Very good. Feel free to wander around. Knock on some doors. I'm sure one of the students can point you in the direction of the German club should any of you feel the need to surrender."
There are a scant 21 shopping days until my birthday.
I enjoy TV box-sets, high-end cutlery, old school suede kicks, de-commissioned military submarines, hand-made tokens of esteem, X-wing fighters, ninja weapons, vengeance upon my enemies, ballads sung about my tales of derring-do, powerful whiskey, 1977 Trans Ams or anything to do with Burt Reynolds, and epic poems about how awesome I am.
The game played Sunday is the most tragic event in the history of Boston sports.
If a volcano had erupted in the endzone and sprayed molten lava and swarms of killer bees with poison-tipped tridents at the home team, I'd feel better.
You're the number one contender for the Intercontinental Full-Contact Karate Fighting Championship of the World. Packed arena. Cage match. Fireworks explode overhead. The crowd chants your name as walk to the ring.
Option B --
The movie montage.
Maybe you're in a dark basement doing push-ups. Or running wind sprints on the beach at dawn. Or loading sawed-off shotguns for a final duel with the evil zombie population of your hometown.
Option C --
The car chase.
You're gunning the motor on a stolen fire engine, punching that beast around the corner. In the rear-view are a hundred secret agent evil robots on super-fast Japanese racing motorcycles.
Regardless of the option you choose, the question remains the same -
What song is playing?
What's your theme song?
What's your hero music?
I'm going with pretty much anything off the Rocky II soundtrack.
It's perfect for throwing fists, preparing for a showdown, slow dancing at the winter semi-formal, and dropping the hammer to the finish line.
In my previous post I asked who would win in a balls-out cage match of TV super villains.
The Simple Answer --
Shillinger would get shanked hardcore by one of Mackey's henchman in the chow line at Oz.
Tony Soprano, would dispatch Paulie and the guitar player from the E-Street Band to take out Luther Mahoney with a blowtorch and a pair of pliers.
Tony and Vic would form a bad-cop, mob kingpin alliance.
Lex Luthor would be busy making a ray gun or a jet pack or something gay, and would be eaten by the vampire.
Al Swearengen, being a shrewd, cold-blooded, cowboy bad ass, would dispatch Dan to grease up and wipe the thoroughfare with the fang-monster. Angel, would tear Dan's head off, seeing as he has superpowers and whatnot. But Al has a dangerous army of ninjas at his disposal (Yes. He does.), and vampires are susceptible to little thing called sunshine. Ninjas know this, and ninjas trump vampires. Especially seeing as an open window turns him into a pile of dust bunnies.
This leaves us the Mackey/Soprano team versus Al Swearengen and his ninja army. That's what the kids on the school yard call "smuck teams."
Tony S. was nearly 86ed by Billy Bats and Vic's own guys keep feeding each other hand grenade sandwiches, whereas Al has A LOYAL ARMY OF NINJAS.
Then there are crazed hillbillies who strap on red, white and blue leather jump suits, slam back a shot of Wild Turkey and jump over dangerous things on rocket-propelled dirt bikes.
Evel Knievel. Hero. Legend. American icon.
The man had no super powers other than a complete disregard for his own well-being and balls carved from the steel of a thousand ninja swords, yet he wore a cape, and nobody questioned it.
Evel has seen his last rodeo.
Dead at the age of 69.
But legends never really die -- They just strap their helmet and punch the accelerator as they hit the ramp, flying over those buses, flying a thousand miles an hour, flying as fast our hearts beat, as fast as dreams…Fly on, cowboy. Never look back.
5. Glengarry Glen Ross -- Swear word hero/genius dramatist, David Mamet, liked him so much he wrote him a soliloquy where he tells lovable old coot Jack Lemon to essentialy go fuck himself. "What's my name? Fuck you."
4. He's a wildly abusive father and everybody thinks it's hilarious. Except maybe Dora the Explorer. VAMONOS!
3. Miami Blues. Portraying a super creep ex-con, he fights Remo Williams, sucks face with Single White Female and sports more Hawaiian shirts and handguns than Magnum, PI. He also fought James Bond on a submarine and won. Granted, different movie, but still.
2. Every single golden, sparkling moment of him pretending to be Tracy Morgan's father on 30 Rock. "DY-NO-MITE!"
The Boston Red Sox have, for the second time in four years, won the World Series.
This organization has battled so many demons, and lost. Been face to face with the dragons of adversity, and been set ablaze. Has taken the homecoming queen to the prom, and gone to the after party with heartbreak.
And now --
All I could think about was this:
"Crom! I have never prayed to you before. I have no tongue for it. No one, not even you, will remember if we were good men or bad. Why we fought and why we died. All that matters is that today two stood against many. Valor pleases you, Crom. So grant me this one request. Grant me REVENGE. If you do not listen, then to HELL with you. I'll do it myself." This is what revenge is. Winning. Winning, when everybody hates you. Winning, when nobody thinks you can. Winning. This is what revenge feels like.
The Boston Red Sox, a collection of millionaire heartbreakers and steely-eyed, crazy-bearded maniacs are on the brink of a second world championship in four years.Who is responsible for this?Who is the hero, you ask?Was it gorilla-costumed, crap guitarist GM Theo Epstein?Was it karate-enthusiast/right wing lapdog Curt Schilling?How about a pair of flame-throwing, River-Dancing righties, Beckett and Papelbon?No.Perhaps it was the tag-team, clutch-hitting, champions of the world, from the jungles of the Dominican Republic, Ramirez and Ortiz? No – but I would pony up a week’s pay if they were introduced as “The Twin Engines of Destruction, from deepest, darkest Dominica, at a combined weight of 524 pounds, Manny “The Night Stalker” Ramirez and “Diamond” David Ortiz!”Then gave the nearest human in a Rockies cap The Doomsday Device.But that’s not important.The real hero was a young man by the name of Danny Wise.Of game six of the ALCS anyway.
Wise loves fishing and tacos and sleeping on his floor and having ADD and driving a foolish, red van.He hates sports.Hates.But, as much as he hates sports, he hates to be alone, as such, he invited us over his place to watch game six of the American league Championship Series.This would be akin to John Wayne inviting a vicious band of Apaches to the Alamo for high tea because he was afraid of the dark.Sort of.Ish.Anyway.
To compensate for the hatred of sports, Wise spent the first few innings making us a delicious supper of Hamburger Helper and strawberry Hoodsies.Then he smoked some “purple nurple” (purchased from some guy at a record store. Strong medicine). Then he began drinking Crystal Light fruit punch mixed with Captain Morgan’s ParrotBay rum.High as a hippie playing Frisbee in a college quad, full of beef and processed cheese sauce, drunk and presumably bored, he pulled a wooden kitchen chair in front of the TV, placed his hand on his forehead, and shut his eyes.He looked like a swami in a trance.Because of that I said, “Are you putting the whammy on that guy?”
He said, “No.”
“Could you?”
“Yes.”
His focus deepened.“All he can think about is how bad he wants to wipe his ass,” Wise said of vaunted Indians pitcher, Fausto Carmona.“He doesn’t even care about the game.He just wants to go home and take a diarrhea.”With that proclamation, or spell, or incantation, Fausto was shelled.
As he was being pulled Wise shouted, “Eddie Carmona!Mother wants to bone ya!”A victory cheer.We didn’t explain Fausto’s name was not, in fact. “Eddie.”We were in the presence of a magician, we just gave him room to work. With that, we were into the Tribe’s bullpen.
The camera cut to a gentleman in the bleachers.A lanky, curly-haired creep in sunglasses with a mustache.I said, “Man, John McEnroe looks tough.”VJ, a known dirtbag said. “He looks like a roller derby announcer.”I have no idea what he meant by that, but he was absolutely right.On the other side of the room, Wise’s resolve hadn’t wavered.
Hand on forehead, eyes closed, almost chanting, he took apart the relief pitcher.“He’s thinking about when he was a kid.One time his mother left him alone in the house.He was so scared.So scared…”Home run.
I wrote: "October 20, 2004 You have to believe in something. You have to have faith, some kind of faith in something bigger than yourself, something greater than yourself. If you are faithless, if you are barren of the soul, if you think this life is a meaningless, hopeless march to the grave, then you're empty. Then you'll never understand. You'll never get it. Worse, you'll never feel it. Feel what I feel right now.
I believe in God.
I believe in the Boston Red Sox.
No team in the 128 year history of Major League Baseball has ever been down 0-3 in a seven game series and come back to force a game seven let alone win it.
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