Who is Tewks?
An immature man-child who enjoys "all you can eat" ribs and pink lemonade.
What to expect from this blog?
Sports, pop culture and veiled sexual references. Updated every Tuesday, Thursday, and most Fridays with posts deemed "mildly amusing" by literally tens of people.
Sometimes, a television show comes along that transcends the entertainment medium and, instead, provides gripping social commentary and a blueprint for how a functional, well-adjusted, human community should operate.
MTV’s Jersey Shore is that show.
For example, I had always been under the impression that life is a complex journey with many twists and turns, highs and lows and infinite possibilities that depend on the myriad of choices you make every day.
I was so wrong. Last night I learned that the only things that truly matter in life are the ability to tan (either the solar or fake variety), regularly get a haircut and do bicep curls until my arms resemble cured hams. Who knew life was so simple?
I also learned that having clothed intercourse on the dance floor, with someone who is not my significant other, doesn’t necessarily constitute cheating because it depends on the type of music playing over the sound system. “House” music appears to offer some sort of diplomatic immunity.
(Tigers Woods could have used this morsel of knowledge. “I know I slept with 14 women, Elin, but we were listening to House music the entire time. It doesn’t count.”)
You are only truly cool if you have a nickname. Bonus points if you give that nickname to yourself.
If I lift my shirt up at the bar, exposing my orange, hairless chest, women will flock to me like bees to honey.
Instead of saying you had sex with a girl, it is more gentlemanly to say that you “smushed” her.
Hair gel is my friend.
Fist-pumping is the only acceptable form of dance.
If you are a girl and have hair extensions, fake eyelashes, fake nails, a fake tan, fake boobs, abhor underwear and have a looseness in both your morals and your, uh, ‘downstairs’ area, then you are deemed a ‘slut’ and or a ‘skank’. If you are a girl and possess all of the above, but live in a house that is filmed by TV cameras, then you are a ‘cool chick.’
Philosophers like Voltaire, Descartes and Rousseau were ignorant compared to the genius of the one, the only, Mike “The Situation.”
I missed the first episode of Jersey Shore, but I believe the Situation refers to his impressively defined abs. But he also calls himself the Situation. So, I think he’s a Situation within a Situation. But he also gets involved in situations where the Situation plays a role in getting the Situation into the situation in the first place.
Make sense?
The Situation (the person) is one of the most fascinating personalities on television. He is so completely and utterly cocky and overconfident that it’s awe-inspiring to watch. However, he’s far from one dimensional.
This confident façade is just a complete overcompensation for rampant insecurity. The guy vacillates back and forth so quickly between cocky and pathetic; it would warrant an acting award was it not so painfully real.
Trying to pick up women is where this dichotomy comes out in full force. The Situation tries to play the suave, cool, “I don’t give a shit” asshole when talking to girls at bars. This is a fantastic game and it works beautifully in the right hands, but he’s too insecure to make it believable.
If the girl exhibits any trepidation in coming back to the house for a ‘Jacuzzi’, he immediately starts whining and begging the girl to go home with him. But in the next instant, he’ll tell the girl he doesn’t care what she does, it’s her loss to not experience the Situation (the person or the abs or the act of sex, I’m not quite sure).
He switches back and forth so quickly and convincingly between both characters, I’m convinced he has bipolar disorder.
All the Situation talks about is how skilled he is at picking up women. True, he’s brought a few girls back to the house, but I think that has more to do with cameras being present than the Situation’s flirting ability. He tries a little too hard to let us know that he’s a ladies man. Methinks he doth protest too much.
The surprise twist I’m betting on for the finale: The Situation will reveal that he enjoys male on male situations.
He made a fan for life when he described the bar scene using a military analogy. When he described he and his douchebag buddies as soldiers and ugly girls as grenades, I lost it. It was like reading Shakespeare for the first time.
Here was his exact quote: “Pauly D. was with the grenade. When you go into battle, you need to have some friends with you, so that just in case a grenade gets thrown at you, one of your buddies takes it first.”
The Indianapolis Colts play the Jacksonville Jaguars tonight on NBC’s Thursday Night Football. The Colts, having won 22 consecutive regular season games, look to run this season’s record to 14-0.
For the past few weeks, I’ve had to listen to football pundits tirelessly debate the pros and cons of going for a perfect season. I don’t understand why there is even a discussion in the first place. As my good friend Herm Edwards posited, “You play to win the game!”
The entire point of the sport is to have more points than the other team when the clock reads 0:00. It’s that simple.
You don’t play hard for thirteen games and then coast into the playoffs. I don’t care that Indianapolis has already clinched home field advantage throughout the postseason, that doesn’t mean you take your foot off the throttle now.
The case for resting your starters now, in supposedly ‘meaningless’ games, is a classic example of sports people over-thinking an easy decision (luckily, we don’t have that problem here at Talkin’ with Tewks).
The thought process is that you are risking injury by playing your starters in games that have no effect on playoff seeding. Peyton Manning could get hit by a car crossing the street tomorrow; does this mean backup quarterback Jim Sorgi should be doing all of Manning’s walking until Indy’s first playoff game?
There is something to be said for staying sharp and getting game reps right up until the playoffs begin. The Colts went 13-0 in 2005, clinched home field advantage and then rested all of their big guns until the playoffs. What happened? Indy lost 3 of their last 4 games and was eliminated in the divisional playoffs by the Steelers.
Also, why is it that every year some team barely squeaks into the playoffs with stellar late season play and then wreaks havoc on the postseason? Look at the Arizona Cardinals last year. They rode a hot, late December run all the way to the Super Bowl. Why? Because they peaked at the right time.
Is Indianapolis’ coaching staff really so conceited to think that they can turn it back on again once the playoffs roll around?
There’s the magic of history and legendary status at stake here as well. Can you name the last ten Super Bowl winners? Nope? Neither can I.
Can you name the teams who have finished the regular season with unblemished records? The 1972 Miami Dolphins and the 2008 New England Patriots. That’s the list. That’s it. Are you telling me Peyton Manning doesn’t want his Colts to join that list?
I don’t even know what to say. The day has finally arrived. I have been preparing for this moment for the past six months, but it’s still a bitter pill to swallow.
Roy Halladay is no longer a Toronto Blue Jay.
I should have written about this yesterday, but the deal hadn’t yet been confirmed, and I still held a glimmer of hope that Halladay’s agent wouldn’t be able to negotiate a contract extension and the deal would fall through.
Obviously, that was not the case. I don’t want to turn today’s column into a dissection of the deal (although, I am shocked that the Jays were unable to get ONE major league ready player in exchange for the best pitcher in baseball). Instead, this is a tribute to Roy: the greatest pitcher in Toronto Blue Jays history.
What can I say about Roy Halladay? Here’s what I wrote about him back in July:
He has been nothing short of amazing during his 10 or so years with the Jays’ organization. Halladay is a consummate professional, a warrior on the mound and has been a terrific ambassador for city of Toronto.
He has taken the ball every five days, pitched in front of shit teams, mediocre teams and decent teams without ever once complaining about a lack of run support. The guy throws over 200 innings a year and has been invaluable in showing Jays’ prospects how to properly prepare for a start and hone their craft.
That’s the thing about Roy. Not only is he a great pitcher, but he is a throwback to a different era, when players were tough and pitchers finished what they started. Pitchers are given a bad rap these days--described as self-absorbed, injury prone, prima donnas who care more about personal stats and money, rather than winning games.
Doc wants to win, period. I can’t wait to see him pitch in meaningful games in September and October. Baseball fans were impressed with the playoff performances of Cliff Lee? They haven’t seen anything yet. Halladay will throw gems on three days rest the entire postseason if he has to.
I have always thought of myself as a Jays fans, but this trade has me seriously questioning my loyalty. Halladay has far and away been my favourite Jay over the last decade. He’s my favourite pitcher to watch in all of baseball. I planned my social calendar around his starts.
Who am I supposed to cheer for now? Vernon Wells? Lyle Overbay? Ricky Romero? Dear God.
Most Toronto fans are glad he’s out of the division. Me, I wish he was still in the American League, so I could watch him pitch more often.
I’ll watch the Jays this year, but I don’t know if I’ll live and die with the games as I’ve done before. However, I guarantee I’ll be constantly checking for Phillies updates all summer long.
Honestly, I think Doc was underappreciated by Toronto baseball fans. He isn’t flashy and didn’t ring up gaudy strikeout totals, and he was always somewhat guarded in interviews. He doesn’t have a sparkling personality and I think some people had a hard time relating to him.
Halladay doesn’t play baseball to provide pithy quotes. He plays because he loves the game and he possesses a mastery of his craft that was truly a treat to watch every fifth day. As a pitcher myself, it was an honour watching Roy attack hitters, make guys hit his pitches and have complete command of the strikezone.
Doc personifies everything a pitcher should strive to be and more.
I have nothing to more say about him, as words cannot accurately describe what Roy Halladay meant to me as a baseball fan. Therefore, once again, allow Tina Turner to take over for me.
It appears that I have to, once again, be the voice of reason in the ongoing Tiger Woods saga. Before I address his “indefinite leave of absence” from the game of golf, allow me the opportunity to comment on the developments over the past week or so.
The mistress tally is now up to 14 ladies and counting. At this point, does it really matter anymore? Once it became public that he cheated on his wife more than once, the damage was done. One infidelity he could shrug off as an egregious lapse in judgment; multiple women are proof that he’s a serial adulterer.
I will say one thing for Tiger though. If he was going to cheat (ignore the moral and ethical dilemma for a moment), I suppose he might as well get his money’s worth. Go big or go home.
However, I do have a problem with the quality of his mistresses: a litany of cocktail waitresses, porn stars, hookers and other stereotypes typical of white trash. One of the girls is a Perkins waitress for Christ’s sakes!
Are you kidding me, Tiger? I could have sex with a Perkins waitress and I’m a nobody (albeit an extremely handsome one). You’re Tiger Woods. Global Icon. Billionaire athlete. I think you can do a little better than Perkins. Maybe IHOP?
Apparently, Tiger and Elin have run off to Sweden to escape the media circus and to try to repair their relationship. Once Tiger publicly admitted his infidelities, this was the smartest decision he could make. Get out of the country and allow the media maelstrom to blow over (which it will).
I’ve had to listen to a lot of people (mostly women) say that Tiger’s endorsement career is over, he will never recover from this scandal, and, even, he will never play golf again. Wrong, wrong, and unbelievably wrong.
Did Tiger commit a crime? No. Did he do something bad? Yes. Did he do something that dozens of people in the public eye have done before? Absolutely (the former President of the United States to name one!).
Sure, he’s going to lose some endorsements over this (which he already has), but they have been extraneous and have nothing to do with golf. He will be a Nike pitchman for as long as he wants to be. He is too valuable to their golf brand.
Does Tiger even need endorsement money? All told, he made $100 million last year. Let’s say he invested 10 percent ($10 million) into a savings account that provides 1 percent interest each month. That means he receives $100,000 EVERY month for doing absolutely nothing. I don’t think Tiger will need money anytime soon.
Will he recover from the scandal? Kobe Bryant was accused of rape, and also cheated on his wife five years ago. He now has the best selling jersey in the NBA. Michael Vick went to jail for 18 months because he killed dogs. He is back in the NFL and received a standing ovation when he returned to Atlanta to play the Falcons earlier this month.
A lot of women think that Tiger’s “indefinite leave of absence” means that he will play golf again only when Elin gives him the go ahead. Not a chance, but that’s exactly what he wants the general populace to believe.
Tiger was put on this Earth to do one thing: win golf tournaments (and maybe have sex with lots of women). Do you realize there are no tournaments that Tiger regularly plays in until February? He has a self imposed leave of absence every year at this time.
Maybe he’ll push his return back a little bit, but I guarantee he will play in The Masters in April at Augusta. If Tiger doesn’t play in The Masters, I will donate $100 to the Human Fund: Money for People.
In his career, he has only missed a major championship due to injury. If he is physically capable of playing in April, then he will be there. Nothing will stop Tiger on his quest to break Jack Nicklaus’ record of 18 major titles.
A quick addendum to Friday’s column about Jamie Campbell: avid reader, CSzem, commented that we SHOULD be attacking Campbell’s character. CSzem states that if Jamie Campbell “was really a good person, as you suggest, he would have resigned years ago, so I didn’t have to listen to him. So, I’m going to assume he’s as much a jerk as he is an abomination to broadcasting.”
I’m inclined to agree with CSzem’s logic, however, let’s look at this from Jamie Campbell’s perspective. You travel around with the Blue Jays all summer and get to watch baseball for a living. You’re friendly with the players, you fly first class and stay in the best hotels.
You have a dream job for a baseball fan. I don’t care how nice you are, there’s no incentive for you to quit, even if thousands of fans want you gone.
Let me use a personal analogy. Do I know what I’m doing in the bedroom? Not a chance. Do I know how to please a woman? Nope. But I’m still somehow able to sleep with members of the opposite sex.
Even though the girls aren’t getting any pleasure, what’s the incentive for me to stop sleeping with them? Sure, I’m doing the female gender a huge disservice and leaving legions of women disappointed, but I’m not about to quit the romance game. Why would I? I have the dream job.
So, basically I’m the Jamie Campbell of the casual dating scene.
Now, an introduction to today’s self-promotion: my readers know me as Tewks, an immature man-child who enjoys “all you can eat” ribs and pink lemonade. However, that is just my blog persona. My Superman, if you will.
The following clip is an example of my real world, Clark Kent persona. It’s from a segment I host on local television called “Can I Do That?” where I visit different sports teams and clubs to see if I have what it takes to do what they do.
Enjoy.
(Yes, this is just a thinly veiled excuse to not come up with a regular topic today).
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