(I apologize; my parents gave me “The Talk” last night, so I’m afraid I have intercourse on the brain. I learned a lot. For instance, what in the hell is a clitoris? It sounds like the name of one of Jupiter’s moons. However, my unfamiliarity with the term could be the reason why my bedroom performance is so unsatisfactory. I always thought it was because I have—uh, moving on.)
The Canadian film and television industry is a beguiling mistress. I absolutely rocked my last two auditions and yet was unsuccessful. It may be time to make an appearance on the casting couch. For example, at my last audition the director described my character to me thusly: “You think you’re the smartest person in the room. You think you’re God’s gift to women and are irresistible to the opposite sex.” I’m not entirely sure where the “acting” part was supposed to come into play there.
The conspiracy theorist in me believes Lance Armstrong is embellishing the severity of his collarbone injury. Methinks he’s either not prepared to race in the Tour de France and does not want to risk embarrassment or he messed up his PED cycles and is afraid of tarnishing his legacy with a positive test. I hope I’m wrong; any friend of Matthew McConaughey is a friend of mine.
Tampa Bay is my pick to win the World Series. Any team that puts a talent like ALCS hero David Price in the minors to start the season because they have a plethora of arms is a good bet to play October baseball.
The anticipation of the rumoured Arrested Development movie has given me an erection lasting longer than four hours. I will consult a physician.
Speaking of movies, my early pick for Best Picture 2011 is The Expendables. What’s it about you ask? A group of mercenaries go to South America to overthrow a dictator. Who’s in it? Stallone, Jet Li, Jason Statham, Arnold, Mickey Rourke, Randy Couture, Dolph Lundgren. Boom. Oscar.
American Idol is fast becoming a two horse race. Adam (my new favourite gay guy, eclipsing Tom Brady) and Allison will battle in the finals for the season eight crown.
It’s getting harder and harder (that’s what she said) to admit I’m friends with Gretzpo. His latest column is almost beyond belief. First, he posts a sleeveless picture of himself (he might as well be wearing a sign saying “I don’t want to get laid again ever”).
This sentence confuses me “Let's just say that Gretzpo met a lovely young co-ed down there ... and a part of him still swims in that pool.” So, he got turned down by yet another woman and then self-gratified himself in the hotel pool?
He denigrates Hooters girls which I equate with blasphemy. Plus he’s a hypocrite. I know for a fact he’s paid $10 for a handie in a No Frills parking lot.
Given the chance, he would shiv (or is it shank?) me in the back for the chance to press up against a human female. Let’s be honest, the guy needs every advantage he can get against me.
I am really good at volleyball. Gretzpo and I are making a return to the Caribbean to defend our beach volleyball championship and I’ve been playing weekly for the last six months to prepare myself accordingly. My blocking and setting, coupled with my grit and hustle, are unparalleled. The only time I’m not at my best is when this sexpot prances around on the adjoining court in these barely there booty shorts. I lose control of my fine motor skills whenever she passes my field of vision. Now I know what Muhammad Ali feels like.
News that Paris Hilton is planning on procreating with her latest jerk boyfriend has me concerned for mankind as a whole. The fact Ms. Hilton has been stuffed more than a Thanksgiving turkey will mean this devil spawn won’t travel a down birth canal so much as it will travel down a birth bay.
A-Rod’s photo spread in Details magazine has finally killed what little admiration I had left for the man’s talent. He was kissing himself in a mirror for Chrissakes!! What the FUCK is wrong with this guy? I mean I kiss myself in reflective surfaces all the time, but I sure as hell don’t let someone take my picture while I do it.
Any self-respecting sports and pop culture fan should make Bill Simmons’ Sports Guy website mandatory reading (I only mention this because I’m hoping the link will boost the blog’s readership. Yes, I’m trying to sell out as soon as humanly possible).
I had a dream that I had a threesome with Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus. I wish Terrence Mann and Ray Kinsella could take me to a place where dreams come true.
On a related note, four years ago I made a $20 bet with Gretzpo that I would sleep with a celebrity by December 31st 2010. D-day is rapidly approaching and the only thing I have to show for myself is a sloppy makeout session with an “actress” (probably on Skinemax) at the club Privilege in Hollywood. The criterion for me to win the bet is that she must have appeared on a show like ET, Access Hollywood etc. or in a magazine like US Weekly, People, Hello!. My best shot will be some reality show reject.
Gretzpo and I will be staying in residence at Wilfrid Laurier University this weekend to recapture our youth. Based on my actions last time I was there, I may have a problem with Campus Police. There’s a 90% chance I will have to wear one of those Hannibal Lecter masks while on the premises. We plan on being clean shaven so that we can skew younger, in the hopes that it will lead us to screw younger (Hey-O!!!!!!)
Tewks is a frequent contributor to Gretzpo’s Sports Blog.
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