Massacre At The 14th Street Y

67-15, what ever happened to the mercy rule?

I was a much better basketball player in college than I am now.  I was a much better basketball player in law school than I am now.  Hell, I was very good at basketball two years ago at the Bronx DA’s office.  But something happened in the last 6 months – legal and comedic life were impeding my ability to get to the gym.  Also, I had no hoops court to play on.  So I was stuck playing on a corporate hoops team once a week, which is not enough time to get your rhythm or timing or skill set to where it could be. So now I just flat out suck at basketball. 

Now don’t get me wrong – I still have decent sense of defense and passing and boxing out, but my stat line at the end of a game usually reads like 9 points on 4-17 shooting, 10 rebounds (I’m big and tall – that’s the only reason), 4 assists, 6 almost assists (almost assists are common in these leagues for missed layups, etc. on good passes), leaving me a point away from averaging an imaginary triple-double.

But last night, in an effort to start playing more I decided to play on my former high school teammate’s team at the 14th Street Y.  Now I knew I was going to play in this game for several hours, but that did not stop me from having an order of breadsticks and personal deep dish pizza from Dominos(unbelievable what that sh*t does to you breath and system, but the on-line order tracking is very addictive) 75 minutes before the game.  I believe in psychology this is known as self-handicapping (my halftime excuse was: “man, shouldn’t have ordered that Dominos!”).

I arrived at the game 7 minutes late and sat most of the first quarter watching our team accumulate a 15-2 deficit, or something like that.  What I noticed is that our teams had a contrast in styles.  The other team was an athletic, undisciplined group that did not play fundamental defense and cherry picked for layups and dunks.  Our team, on the other hand, was unathletic and bad at basketball.  Throughout the course of the game I made sure to run hard so that I could at least burn calories.  Also I began Obama’s stimulus plan to weatherize homes by laying up brick after brick (0-9 from the field for the game).  Our team probably had as many turnovers as missed shots so the game spiraled out of control.  But for much of the game we compounded our rust/lack of skill with unathleticism and laziness.  Always a perfect storm for any basketball team.  Final score 67-15.  Not a misprint. 

After the game I brieflyflirted with the idea of stepping in front of a bus, but decided to comfort myself with a cupcake from Buttercup.  While in the store a woman stepped on my foot and turned around shocked to find Sasquatch behind her.  She then said, “I think you are the tallest person I have ever seen.”  I gave her a smirk that was combination “really?” and “Go fu-k yourself.”  She then said (per my Ferguson appearance): “Do you play in the NBA?” I replied “The Knicks, ever heard of us (girls like famous rich guys, but a famous, rich as-hole is the jackpot)?  Yeah, we lost 67-15 tonight.  You’ll probably read about it on a blog tomorrow.”

Tonight my regular team has a game at Dalton high school where I gave the crowd the middle finger when I was in high school.  Better place my Dominos order now.

Pet Chimp Shockingly Acts Like A Chimp, Name Changed…

Apparently part of the 99% DNA we share is the domestic violence gene

Monday in Stamford, Connecticut a 200 lb pet chimpanzee mauled a friend of its owner, who is now seriously injured in a Connecticut hospital.  The Chimp, whose name was Travis (I as hoping his name would be Ike or Chris), is now dead, but hopefully he has not died in vain.

Now this would not be as funny except for the fact that the chimp went out like Scarface.  According to witnesses he was a little “rambunctious.”  Weird – an animal from the jungle acting “rambunctious.”  Not sure what a more rambunctious chimp would be, but perhaps they noticed that he was throwing his sh*t around with a little more zip.  However, this chimp was a popular fixture in the community and had learned how to drink wine from a glass, use a computer and could clean and dress himself.  So I guess it was easy to forget that he was a fu-king animal!

During the day Travis broke out of the house (stealing his owner’s keys and unlocking the door – pretty impressive) and began stopping traffic, tapping on cars, which apparently meant that he wanted to go for a ride.  What set the monkey off is when the friend arrived and got out of her car with a new hairstyle that the chimp did not recognize.  So apparently, the chimp did not like the new ‘do proving that chimps can in fact be gay hairdressers, but with less fabulousness and more violence.  He mauled the woman horribly at which point his owner stabbed him several times to no avail. 

But when the police arrived he fled, but came back and tried to attack one of the officers (which was the second fight he had had in his life with police).  The officer then shot him several times, but Travis still survived to run off.  Travis’ last words were apparently “You know who I am?  King Kong ain’t got sh*t on me!”  Travis was found dead in his living quarters that he had crawled back to.

This end may seem touching and tragic to people, but I think it would be really sad if we don’t learn lessons from this.  I think the lessons are:

  1. If a chimp attacks the police there should be a one strike and you’re out rule.
  2. This should be chronicled on an episode of Cops so we can all learn and laugh.
  3. Chimps only make good pets in movies.
  4. Ladies – don’t do anything stupid with your hair or you might go to the hospital.

He’s Just Not That Into You

I swear I saw it for research and comedy purposes.

Last night when a mic I was on was cancelled I decided to catch a movie, you know, to do something I normally don’t do.  Since I like to what America deems the #1 movie (I saw Paul Blart – well 70 minutes of it before I walked out – possibly the worst movie I’ve ever seen, and Taken) I bought a ticket to He’s Just Not That Into You.  Here is a breakdown (if I Twittered, I would have given the following list):

8:04 pm I see two women who used to work with me at the Bronx DA’s Office.  One assumed I would be writing about the movie, but called me out for using that as an excuse for seeing a chick flick.  To quote Dewey Cox – guilty as charged.

8:10 previews begin.  1st preview – A Matthew McConaughey romantic comedy.  Finally, something new for a change. 

8:11 – groups of women arriving late and trying to deliberate where to sit.  I mutter, sit the fu-k down

8:12 – preview of a crazy blond woman trying to fu-k Stringer Bell from the Wire who is married to Beyonce.

8:13 more groups of white women arriving late and blocking the screen – quick who are the only two groups who consistently ignore “don’t walk” lights in Manhattan?  White women and black men.  Who are the groups consistently late and talk during movies in Manhattan?  White women and black men.  Coincidence?  If you don’t think those groups rule the world who is our president?  A man with a black father and a white mother from a state with a city named Manhattan.  And who’s blog are you reading?

8:14 – Preview of a romantic comedy starring Paul Rudd

8:17 – Preview of a romantic comedy starring Sandra Bullock

8:18 – I contemplate suicide as another group of annoying women walk in and bump my chair several times and another romantic comedy preview airs.

8:19 I notice that I am the only man by himself in a theater of about 300 theater goers.  Then, faster than you can say awkward truck stop encounter a lone male comes in and decides to sit two seats from me.  Just to cover my ass literally and figuratively I pulled a Larry Craig and told the women behind me that I just had a wide stance when I sat at movies, just in case the guy made a move.

8:23 – movie starts.  1 hour and 40 minutes of important lessons teaching women that they are really dumb when it comes to relationships. Lots of girls going, “oh my God, that is sooooo you,” and “ugggghh, she’s soooooo stupid.”  Then the last 20 minutes of the movie are spent making every one of the characters the exception to the rules that have been laid out, so low and behold, everyone is happy, except for the people that cheated, who still seem a little happy.

10:23 – lots of groups of girls outside the theater discussing the movie probably discussing the different characters are them or not them. 

12:01 am – girls who just watched the movie answering booty text messages, over interpreting signals from guys and making foolish decisions.  Lessons not learned.

UNC and Utah Jazz win. Almost A Great Night…

What About American Idol?

Last night was a real treat for me.  I caught the last moments of UNC beating Duke at Cameron Indoor (missed the game because I was killing (comedically) in Washington Heights in a bar for literally 11 people – comedy is funny like that – a great show can be for that small an audience, especially when you have perfected your “Obama as strip club DJ” routine as your closer – video coming soon).

Then I watched the Utah Jazz defeat the LA Lakers, which will be replicated in April or May of this year.

The last thing I had to watch on my DVR before going to bed was American Idol.  I have been hot and cold with this show since I started watching at the end of season 3, but this season I think they have assembled the characters well.  And perhaps it is the way the edit it (probably), but this season seems to have more talent that the last few seasons.  If you have not been watching this season I think you should, but that was not before my joy over hoops victories became temporary disappointment. 

Top Three Disappointments From Last Night

  1. Jamar Rogers was cut.  The guy looks like Pharrell Williams and has ridiculous vocals.  I am not really sure why he was cut.  I guess they needed one “shocking” cut.
  2. Nathanial Marshall was not cut.  He was clearly outsung by the person he had a sing-off with.  This guy is literally Nick Swardson’s gay character from Reno 911.  He would have to be the Human Torch to be any more on fire.  He would also be the most annoying character on the show if not for the most annoying human being on Earth…
  3. Tatiana Del Toro is still alive.  If you are watching solely to see her get eliminated I completely understand.  I am just hoping she is so disappointed that she steps in front of a moving bus. 

Top 5  With a Chance to Win (in no order)

  1. Anoop Desai – I am just waiting for one of the judge’s to refer to him as Slumdog Millionaire.  Pluses – the guy is not black or white, which would represent a change for American Idol.  He can also really sing.  Negatives – Lou Dobbs will claim American Idol has outsourced its competition.
  2. Jorge Nunez – 21 year old Puerto Rican so like Anoop Dogg (Randy Jackson said it, not me) he would be a new face for the competition.  He can also sing – sounds like a slightly deeper Marc Anthony.  Negatives – Madonna is trying to fu-k him.  Negatives for Madonna – Jorge is en fuego.
  3. Danny Gokey – The sympathetic choice who can actually sing.  His wife died and his best friend, Jamar Rogers, was surprisingly eliminated. 
  4. Matt Giraud – this year’s “soulful white guy” contestant.  But this guy is really, really good.  And he does not have Elliot Yamin’s dental problems
  5. Lil’ Rounds.  Would be the worst name by far of any winner, but the best voice in the competition.

Do I have too much time on my hands?  Sure.  Do I apologize for watching American Idol?  Nope.  Should I apologize for downloading David Cook’s new single on iTunes?  Maybe.

V Day vs. NBA

What dude scheduled this conflict?

NBA All Star Saturday is this Saturday, which also happens to be Valentine’s Day, the result of a conspiracy between women, Victoria’s Secret and Hallmark.  Now if you think Valentine’s Day, a day of purported romance and the NBA, an organization that almost changed its name to Fathers Anonymous in the mid 1990s, would make a strange pairing, you’d be correct.

Anyone that has ever been around an All Star weekend can tell that although romance may not be in the air, love making and more importantly, conception, is definitely on the mind of many festivity attendees.  Not withstanding that, putting the All Star weekend to coincide with Valentine’s Day is a bad move for men, which mean some guy at the NBA actually decided to schedule this.  Memo to the NBA: Stop letting the scheduling guy listen to Kanye West’s Heartless when he is setting the All Star schedule.  Perhaps he thought he was scheduling the WNBA All Star Game, which would make sense since there is a much greater chance that those dudes are dating each other (call it an unfair assumption, but since most of the WNBA are manly giants it seems like their workplace is their best bet on meeting a significant other).

For guys it’s a lose-lose situation.  Let’s assume your girlfriend wife does not want to watch the dunk contest, 3 point shoot-out, H.O.R.S.E. and skill competition.  That would make her normal since these competitions are usually a disappointment, but that does not matter.  You will either be out to dinner wishing you could watch these events, or if you don’t there’s a 50/50 chance your lady will assume you want to watch these events and will eye you with suspicion and contempt.

But let’s say your lady is an NBA fan or just kind enough to watch some of the events with you (beware of the trap “sure we can watch that”, which will become “I can’t believe you MADE me watch that” in your next fight post Valentine’s Day).  How long before she asks you, “Why aren’t your shoulders like that Dwight Howard guy’s?” To boot, if you are not black, Valentine’s Day would be a bad time to learn that your girlfriend or wife has a black guy fetish.

A Song To Save Chris Brown’s Career

In his defense was Rihanna singing Umbrella, ella, ella, eh, eh at the time?

Just as A-Rod was watching his Hall of Fame induction chances dwindle, another promising career vanished before our eyes.  Chris Brown, the 19 year old chewing gum pitchman, had just gone Ike Turner on Rihanna, the popular glamor girl accompanied by excessive production, known today as a singer.  Both men punched their respective women, but Chris Brown stopped his anger at biting Rihanna, whereas Ike went all the way to rape, as Lawrence Fishburne showed in What’s Love Got To Do With It. 

It is a reminder that teen domestic violence is not just a problem with trailer park trash kids and the South Bronx, but also with celebrities.  The lesson – celebrities are real people just like you and me!

The bad news for Chris is that this is very hard to recover from.  Athletes can get away with it.  Warren Moon, Mike Tyson, David Justice – all had fine post women beating careers.  But Chris is the first teen idol, that is still a teen, to attempt so bold a career move.  Plus side – instant headlines.  Negatives – until we see one of the Jonas Brothers beat up their boyfriend we won’t know how bad this can get.  Perhaps no one told Chris Brown that he was dating a poor man’s Halle Berry, not the actual Halle Berry, and that unlike the real thing, Rihanna does not enjoy fisticuffs.

Also, like may guilty celebrity douche bags, Chris Brown has hired Mark Geragos, whose specialty is getting famous clients convicted.  Not a good sign.

As a help to Chris Brown’s undoubtedly forthcoming rehabilitation effort here is a song I have penned for him:

(sung to the tune of Forever)

It’s you and me

Getting a domestic violence felony

Tonight we will fight

And I will be a bad boy celebrity

Feel my white teeth biting and my clenched fists hit

Around you, around you

Ima beat you here, Ima beat you there.

You best be scared cause I’m right here, ready

You can’t go anywhere, go anywhere

But first, it’s the cops, gotto run, shut your moth bit*h

It’s like I fuc-ed up my whole life with this one night

It’s gonna be me you and the state judge

Cause I beat you that one night

ruined my career, ruined my fun

cause you sang umbrella, umbrella, umbrella

 

I think if Chris Brown released this song we could all find it in our hearts to forgive him this one time.

Why I Feel Bad For A-Rod

The fact that he had sex with the senior citizen yoga champ is only one reason.

For years Alex Rodriguez has been the target of Haters.  There is no other word for them.

When he came into the league he was insanely talented.  From the age of 20 he was putting up big numbers and he just kept getting better.  He was more talented, better looking and when he signed his 10 year, $250 million contract, richer than anyone else in the game.  But he never had the cool guy appeal of Derek Jeter that would get him undying loyalty of fans, or the bad guy demeanor of Barry Bonds that would get fans because of an almost anti-hero status.  Alex just went about his business and treated the game just like that.  He was a self-conscious business man playing a sport for a living.    He is a corporate sports figure and people resent him for it (at least America is finally hating the actually corporate d-bags as well).  He was too perfect, or worse, looked like he was trying to be perfect.  And it seems that nothing annoys people more nowadays, than the guy who is trying to be better than others.  It reminds others of their failings and builds resentment and a desire to uncover some hypocrisy or fault within that person.  America’s motto might as well be, “If you can’t beat them, beat them down.”

When the steroid and HGH scandal began breaking I kept saying A-Rod could not be guilty.  He had so much natural talent coming into the league: speed, power, skills that it did not seem impossible by any stretch that over the course of 8 years he could get gradually bigger and stronger.  From 18 to 23 I went from 205 to to 248.  And that was just subway sandwiches, protein shakes and hostility at being a hoops team bench warmer that went into that growth.  So why was it implausible that a professional athlete of A-Rod’s caliber could not put on 40 pounds of muscle in 5 or 6 years?

His transformation was not the transformation that Mark McGwire or Barry Bonds underwent, which resembled the origin stories of superheros (Bonds/McGwire was once a normal baseball player and then after the nuclear spill he grew to the size of a house and could hit a home run just by looking at the ball).  Not to mention that everyone involved with A-Rod in baseball genuinely seemed surprised when the news was revealed.

But there was a sign that something was not right with A-Rod.  It was not his stats, his build, his self-conscious behavior.  It was the fact that he was banging a former pop star who’s body now resembled a yoga infused Iggy Pop.  While Madonna seems committed to going from pop icon to Cher, A-Rod has fast forwarded right past cougar land into the era of the saber-toothed tigers.  Wasn’t this a cry for help? Injecting testicle shrinking substances in your body is no danger compared to sticking your dipstick inside that kabbalah cesspool.  Who knows, may A-Rod is gay and he is just banging Madonna because she is a step away from women and a step towards men.  If this is the case, might I suggest the transition team, so to speak, for A-Rod (in increasing order of masculinity):

  • Madonna
  • Jaime Lee Curtis
  • Ricky Martin
  • Lance Bass
  • Macy Gray
  • Hugh Jackman
  • Janet Reno

But it seems the safest way to be a sports fan is to be cynical.  For years fans (me included) bought that the ball was juiced.  Major League Baseball actually convinced fans that tight stitching was leading to home run records getting broken and then they make a show of outrage while they leave their Frankensteins out to dry.  I don’t know what A-Rod will say as his excuse, if he says anything at all, but if he says that he used them because he was tired of seeing his natural talent unfairly eclipsed by a game that was allowing rampant drug use then I could be ok with that.  He has enough years left in his career that I think he could rehabilitate himself, if the Haters let him.

And assuming there is an inquiry into steroids into comedy, it should be noted that my personal high in bench press was achieved prior to my comedy career and before Carrot Top showed up with Dwight Howard’s shoulders.

What Happens When Two Annoying Racial Stereotypes Collide?

It all went down at the FDR Post Office.

Another day, another mass mailing in pursuit of comedy bookings (or at least putting in face time at the post office so if I need to apply for a job in late 2010 they will have gotten to know me and may put me on the fast track).  As I stood with dozens of padded envelopes holding DVDs and headshots I thought to myself, “Hmmmm, I have not written a posting today.  I wonder if my 19 loyal readers (yes, readership is up) are pissed that their weekend is almost here and they have not had any J-L wit and wisdom.  And faster than you can say Bensonhurst, Brooklyn a Jewish woman with an iPhone and a black, female postal employee with some unwanted lessons in manners met.

Now there are some stereotypes that are really well known and overdone and then some that are not so overdone, but are still well represented in society, or at least New York.  For lack of a more significant trait the first stereotype in this incident is the annoying mid-forties Manhattan woman who claims her manicurist “loves” her an “cannot live without her cell phone” even though she did for thirty-five years already (beware – unless the EPA opens up hunting on this species its numbers will grow out of control in this city in the coming decades).  The other is the woman of color (often black, but occasionally Latina) working at menial, to semi-menial job that is quick (usually too quick) to play the “respect my authority” card. 

Well at 6:10 pm these two titans collided at the FDR Post Office on 54th Street and Third Avenue.

The annoying woman (AW) was at the counter speaking on her iPhone for several minutes, apparently hoping to multi-task, despite the fact that she really only had 1 task, when the postal worker (PW) said, “I will not assist you while you are on the phone. Next (she said this a few times,)”  Another person came to PW’s window after being called at which point AW began saying “ok, ok I’m off the phone.”  Some mumblings ensued, when PW stated quite loudly – “you will not speak to me like that or I will not help you at all.”  More arguments ensued, while a few of PW’s co-workers (African-Americans) gathered around.   Apparently the Asian postal employees could give two sh*ts what was going on.  In an effort to foster a better blog story I yelled out, “hit the white bit*h” while throwing my voice.  No one heeded my advice, but the clash ended with the following exchange:

AW: You bitch! (walking away)

PW: That’s Ms. Bitch (cackles from her non-Asian co-workers).

AW: No, you’re a bitch.

Me: Ding ding ding – the winner by sarcasm and by not repeating the same insult twice – Ms. Bitch, USPS!

If this exchange proved anything, compared to previous clashes between different cultures and races it is this: women are just not as funny as men, whether intentionally or unintentionally. (check my Spring 2006 entries if you doubt it – racism + men + public place = hilarity):

https://jlcauvin.com/?p=22

https://jlcauvin.com/?p=32

Ahhh, the classics.

90,000 Sex Offenders Barred From MySpace

At least I still have Facebook.

I read yesterday that MySpace has removed and barred approximately 90,000 sex offenders from MySpace.  I am not sure that will save it from dying an excruciating death at the hands of Facebook, unless they go negative and start claiming that Facebook is a haven for sex offenders.

How did MySpace find these people?  I never saw the “rapist” or “pedophile” option on relationship status or occupation.  And I have to assume that if you are a sex offender you cannot be so stupid as to make an account with your own name, unless, instead of employing a clever ruse (candy, white van, “this room is really warm, do you mind if I take off my shirt”), you are more a brute strength sexual assaulter, but then you would have to bar most fraternities and Mike Tyson from MySpace, which they did not.

And have you seen some of the girls on MySpace.  I don’t want to say any of these girls are asking for it, but when your screen name is Hot Wet Pussy Cat (coming soon to my “Top Friends”) and every picture is an ass pose of some variety shouldn’t that the two to tango policy.  Furthermore, I thought you had to be at least 16 to be on MySpace.  I assume, if on-line dating is any primer for MySpace sexual predatory tactics, there will be 8 to 10 months worth of inane banter and by then wouldn’t the victim be of legal age?  And if a person younger than 16 is lying, how is that the sexual assaulter’s fault?  Sure the Dora the Explorer backpack should have been a clue as well as the fact that her favorite movie is High School Musical 3, but can’t it be assumed by the assaulter that she was of age when her 13 year old boyfriend forwards her sextexts to everyone (kids these days!)?

And isn’t anyone who watched Brittney Spears’ first video on MTV that was older than 18 sort of a sex offender anyway? 

Or at least forwarded it on the Internet?  Now sex offenders need to run to Facebook or Twitter (which sort of sounds like a finishingmove for a sex offender video game character, probably voiced by CNN’s Twitter-obsessed Rick Sanchez).  As long as narcissism does not become a crime Facebook should have nothing to worry about.  How’s Friendster doing by the way?

The Godfather on Blu Ray

Great got greater.

I love blu ray dvds.  They are so clear that they actually make movies, which are already awesome, better just by looking and sounding better.  Sort of like love with a hot woman.  If she is great already (Godfather, Shawshank, Transformers) then the experience is only enhanced, but even if she is not very good (Semi Pro, Hellboy, Terminator 3) the mere upgrade in looks can make you pay attention and appreciate much more than you normally would with a different exterior.

Well, having spent some time being lazy, in between writing and cutting carbs, I managed to watch the Godfather I and II on blu ray this week.  Holy Sh*t it is fantastic.  Moe Green’s bleeding eye, Senator Pat Geary’s sleaziness, Appolonia’s breasts – all in super clear picture (especially for a movie that is almost 40 years old).  But in my renewed focus I noticed some things about the Godfather.

  1. Who the fu-k is Cunio?  When Michael is rattling off the list of 5 families (I think my uncle once asked me this as well) he mentions Barzini, Tataglia, Stracci and Cunio?  Who is Cunio and why did he not get any screen time or mention until he was dead.  I don’t think he even gets mentioned at the meeting Don Corleone calls when Sonny is killed.  How much would it suck to be cast as Cunio.  “Yeah, I was in the Godfather.”  Really?  What part?  “I was Cunio.”   He is not even in the deleted scenes you lying waiter.
  2. The delted scenes should have all been restored.  Extra fighting between Connie and Carlo.  And the best – Michael has Fabrizio killed in Buffalo, NY in part II (the guy who sold him out in Italy) – it was intended as a compliment to how young Don Corleone tracked down his mother’s killer in Italy when he was grown.
  3. What the fu-k happened to Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino?  They went from the Magic Johnson and Larry Bird of acting to the New York Knicks of acting.
  4. How the fu-k did Talia Shire squeeze her way into being a part of two of the biggest movie franchises of all time.  Rocky Balboa’s wife and Michael Corleone’s sister.  She was probably up for Karen Allen’s part in Indiana Jones and something in Lord of The Rings as well.  If only she had been willing to exist nude in movies then she could have extended her career into her forties like Marisa Tomei.
  5. Michael Corleone’s treatment of his wife is great, in that it would make Don Draper say, “Jeesh that guy does not treat his wife right.”  How great would it be if you could simply tell your wife, not to ask about your business, then tell her one time, as if it were some gift, and then not tell her a thing for the next 7 years while you kill a bunch of people and do God knows what else.  That seems a far cry from the “when will you be home for dinner” arguments.
  6. And it has possibly my favorite quote in a movie, probably because I hope to find a woman who will allow me to write it into my wedding vows and/or wedding toast: “Just to show you I’m not all dollars and cents and a hard-hearted man – SHE WAS THE GREATEST PIECE OF ASS I EVER HAD AND I’VE HAD ‘EM ALL OVER THE WORLD!” 

I have not watched Godfather III yet on blu ray because it may test my theory stated above.  Sofia Coppola may actually become uglier and worse on blu ray with all the clarity.