Dad's Dog

Clancy had been ailing for quite some time, and he was really my dad's dog. Actually, no "really" about it. He WAS my dad's dog. Best friends. And when he got home today from Florida he was just beaten up about not being there to say goodbye. Then my mom and I reminded him that Clancy was exactly where he was supposed to be when he passed.

On Friday's, my mom takes care of Luke and my niece Emma at her house. Emma is only younger than Luke by a few months, and they are basically brother and sister. Since they were infants, every Friday when Luke and Emma would get there, Clancy would bark and howl, jump around, bark some more. Loved his two babies, and the two babies loved Clancy. This past Friday was no different. Clancy could barely stand up straight, wasn't eating well, but when they got there, he barked, jumped around, chased them in the yard. He barked at my mom, as he did every Friday, so as to say, "They're here! Can you believe it?!?! They're here! They're here!" They hugged him, kissed his head, pretended to "walk" him. He kissed and nudged them back. They then all laid down for a nap on the couches in the family room, Clancy laying right under Luke. And then he simply, and as gently as he was in life, passed.

Dad understood then. Seriously, like something out of a goddamned movie those last few hours. December 8 will be a year since our own dog left us, and I've been reminded this weekend that I should be lucky to love, live, and show loyalty only half as well as a dog...

I Opened For Kansas Once...

Pretty long, but worth every second. Enjoy.

Chris Berman Goes Apeshit.

You don't even play a sport. You talk about them and make an insane amount of money for talking about them. Calm down.

What the Fuck? Yes, Tell Me How to Get the Fuck BACK to Sesame Street.

So, with my son beginning to appreciate the wonderful creation that is educational TV, I in turn have rediscovered Sesame Street. Sure, it was always there, has always been there, but I haven't watched it since my own childhood...or college when I was smoking doobies.

We started watching with my son like only two or three months ago, and like only two or three months ago, the opening song had not changed. At all. The melody, rhythm, timing, and timeless (yet senseless) lyrics have remained, for over 30 years, unchanged. Like whispering in a library, making fun of retarded people, laughing at farts, and yelling at very old people, Sesame Street's opening song has remained a constant in our lives. IT HAS NOT FUCKING CHANGED. Well, until about a month or so ago.

We TiVo the hell out of Sesame Street. At some point in time, the opening song to Sesame Street changed. Completely. The only remaining similarity? The lyrics. The rhythm, timing, and oh my God the melody, the fucking melody, are GONE!! What is it now? It's a hip-hop, urban beat, children singing off-key (another similarity I guess), fresh piece of shit. Oh sure, the song has had some slight variations through the years, but not much. It was always the same song. Same melody. Hell, the clip I found is THE original opening from the 70's I think, and even it's the jam.

How can this happen? Why did this happen? What fucking 20 something fresh out of college fuckhead business degree shithead decided, "Oh I know what would freshen things up! Oh, I know what the kids want to hear today! Oh, I'm a worthless douche bag, my college ideas and sensibilities have relevance, I deserve to be listened to, I know what's hip, what's now, what's hot, what's not."

I want to meet the fucking morons that 1) thought it would be a good idea to look at a "new approach" to a 30 year old masterpiece, and 2) actually signed the death certificate of the original, thereby green lighting this boil on my ass of a song. Listen, I get it. Hip hop is the classic rock of tomorrow. Some of it is very, very good. But a lot of it, like a lot of classic rock of yesterday, is complete and utter shit. But the original opening Sesame Street song? Come the fuck on. It was the jam. It was and had groove. It was honest, it was earnest, and maybe was one of the most recognizable opening TV songs of all time. And now it's gone. Good job fuck-o's. Don't you cunts have something better to do, like another Jager Bomb and a date rape or two? Quit messing with art.

Here they are. Tell me I'm wrong.

The new.



The original.

Hey UConn. Fuck You.

17 to 14. And Larry Taylor, wipe that fucking smile off your face.

Bait and Take!

So the wife, sister-in-law, Duck and I took a weekend vacation. The wife and her sister pushed on to NC to visit a new arrival, while the Duck and I kicked it in VA for the weekend so he can get his shit this week and move back to the beautiful weather, clean river, and GREAT sports teams that is the 'Ville. God I hate this city. I had a great time. But to make a long story kinda short, Saturday was "All Sports Saturday." We awoke around 11, watched some of the 'Arrested Development' marathon on G4, and decided to check out the situation at the local public baseball diamond/football field to either, you guessed it, hit some baseballs or play some football.

When we pulled up, there were 4 (later 5) high school age kids already throwing a football around. They asked if we wanted to play. We said sure. Turns out these kids play on the local high school football team. Only two could actually play. But what makes this story half way interesting (or funny) is that one of the kids who was on our team stood about 4 foot something, was fast as hell, even without proper shoes, and who we were sure was a bit. . . retarded. Well, not TOTALLY retarded, but kinda slow, you know? Two crazy fucking midgets in the past two weekends? How can this be??

His football advice/orders were priceless. Like, "Bait and Take!" wherein you play off a receiver, bait them into getting a pass, and then intercept. Bait and take! We played for like an hour and a half. Our team dominated. I haven't done anything close to exercise since the last time I played a pick up game of football, and that was like a year+ ago, but I didn't suck. I just couldn't breath. Anyway, their youth be damned, we were fucking tired and sore, and had to call it quits. As we were driving away I remarked that I kept wanting to call our short teammate "Eazy" after Compton's own Eric "Eazy-E" Wright. Mixing "Bait and Take!" with Eazy's lyrics provided comedy gold the rest of the weekend. We rested, watched more 'Arrested Development,' watched Kentucky beat LSU (whatever), and then went back up there to hit baseballs for an hour. Then we watched the Red Sox get beat.

Football, football. Baseball, baseball.

I can't feel my shins.

My Weekend.

So two buddies and I saw 'Killers of Comedy' last Friday. Maybe one of the strangest nights of my life. Afterwards, I stole a picture with Beetlejuice (a.k.a. Lester Green). I say "stole" since Beetle yelled at me that I didn't buy a $20 DVD first before taking the picture, which we reassured and lied to him that I did. He responded, "Iiight." Crazy fucking midget.