Inspirational Lubricant Du Jour: Rogue Dead Guy Ale. Nummies.
Greetings from New England, peoples! In case you were wondering, this IS in fact the best place in America to celebrate America. Beer, beach, Bawston, baseball, bisque, biddies – it’s like a haven for Bros.
For the reasons of vacation and America cited by my esteemed colleagues, I too shall be posting in truncated form this week (or, you know, not). I’ll just be doing it with words like the ones in the last sentence in order to make everyone angry. Continuing the spirit of intrablog community I attempted (and failed) to engender with last week’s post, I shall be responding directly to some of the topics raised by my colleagues in their posts this week.
Leee: It takes a mighty man to speak honorably of his foes and Leee Powers is that man. Kudos to him for being able to bring a little objectivity to this blog medium, which is generally rooted in subjectivity and ill-researched opinion spouting (read: what I do each week). My rampant homerism notwithstanding (Go Pats!), Leee correctly points out that this just happens to be a horribly gone-wrong instance of the tried and true NFL tradition of drafting “The Weed Guy” at a discount. Matt Taibbi, a Rolling Stone writer and well-respected NFL draft authority put it this way in advance of the 2013 NFL Draft, citing the following as one of the main points in his drafting manifesto:
DRAFT THE WEED GUY. There’s never been a more obvious year to capitalize on failed-drug-test draft fallers. To quickly recap: guys who batter cheerleaders with bricks or commit armed robbery or drive drunk with loaded pistols in their glove compartments are genuine character concerns, but a kid who just likes to smoke weed… that’s every college student in America. You want your star athlete, if he’s going to have a vice, to be a pothead. In fact, hopefully, he’s going straight from practice to his TV, blazing up and watching cartoons all afternoon. That means he’s not getting in real trouble. Yet every year, great talents like Percy Harvin and Moss and Sapp plummet in the draft because of failed weed tests, and smart teams scoop them up, put them on the Whizzinator therapy plan, and cash in big-time.
Every year somebody drafts the Weed Guy and it pays huge dividends. The Patriots did no different in 2010, they just happened to (eventually) come up snake eyes. Don’t mistake these words for defense of Hernandez himself: he is a total scum bag who should and probably will spend the rest of his life in jail. But it’s hard to fault the Pats for doing what so many other teams have done successfully for years.
In a hilarious attempt to gloat about the Buffalo Bills (#amirite), my Bills-fan friend recently gave me shit for liking a team that drafted a future murderer. I subsequently reminded him of this fun fact: guess who the 1969 Buffalo Bills (then a part of the AFL) took with the first pick in the 1969 AFL-NFL Common Draft. None other than one…
…Orenthal James Simpson.
Eric: What the hell is Eric smoking with that Ginny Weasley nonsense? (Just kidding, we all know what he’s smoking.) If I’m reading him right, Eric is faulting Harry Potter for not “playing the field” with the all the little witch biddies of his world. Presumably, Eric wanted HP to use his fame and notoriety to cycle through nubile and willing witches with Wilt Chamberlain-like prowess. Potter the Pimp. John Holmes Potter. Harry Potter and the Never-Ending Sea of Extremely Appreciative Admirers. Such frivolous behavior no doubt would have resulted in Harry’s contracting Hog-Warts (!) of some kind, or possibly even Hermionorrhea (!!).
More importantly: it clearly has been a while since Eric read the books because he seems to have forgotten that Ginny is the only non-Hermione gal who sticks by Harry unconditionally, loving and supporting him for the person he is instead of who he is supposed to become (which is what everyone else is obsessed with). I think we can forgive him for having no desire to play the field after SAVING THE FUCKING WORLD. How dare he want to be with the person who has shown nothing but love for him throughout. Should Han have told Leia “I know Oola’s dead, but I hear she has a sister who’s into some CRAZY shit. You’ll hang around tho, right? Kthxbye.” At the very least, let’s assume Harry was exhausted on account of the aforementioned world-saving. Dude didn’t have the energy for that shit. Besides, let’s see how good 19-year-old Eric would look when digitally aged:
Paul: We need more people like Paul in the world (weird, right?). He reminds us this 4th of July that it is possible both to be wildly passionate and patriotic about Amurrica – and actually have a brain. Granted, he also reminds us that the young professional women of New York City are in fact as gullible as they look. Win some, lose some.
Tommy Moon: *garbled incoherent nonsense*
Jean Louise: Big ups, Twin-o. Who knew that offering your citizens a guarantee that if they sick are or dying you will actually give a fuck – could be a solid foundation for effective governance? Weird.
That’s it, kids. America and all that. Unh.
Yours from the Home of the Bro-ave,