Free Agent Frenzy

(BOD - Mila Kunis)

Before I get into the mind-numbing minutiae of the rumours of where the NBA’s top free agents will end up, forever (for the next few seasons anyway) shifting the balance of power in professional basketball, let’s all take a second to give thanks on Canada Day.

This is the greatest country in the world. People across the globe strive to be like us and everyone wants to be our friend. Except terrorists. They hate everyone, especially themselves.

Do you know what Canada is like? We are that cool friend you have, who you don’t hear from that often, but every time you hear his/her name mentioned it puts a smile on your face. And on the odd chances your paths cross at a party, the night is made instantly better with that interaction.

That is who Canada is. We may not be the flashiest or try to be noticed with an outlandish personality, but we instantly up the cool quotient of any room we enter. Here’s to you, Canada. Happy Birthday! Now let’s all drink a beer that has more than 4% alcohol to celebrate.

The funny thing about the NBA free agent period opening today is that I’ve completely lost interest in the saga before it’s even begun. We’ve been inundated with stories of where the top free agents are going to end up, if they’re going together, are they bringing their own coaches, and other like nonsense.

One thing that needs to stop in the incessant coverage is the lumping of Chris Bosh in with Dwayne Wade and LeBron. To say that Bosh is the same calibre of player as Wade and James is completely laughable and, not to mention, insulting to those guys. From now on, Bosh should be referred to as a second tier free agent, right beside Joe Johnson. There’s no way in hell Bosh should be attending secret meetings with Dwayne and LeBron trying to orchestrate a triumphant arrival to a major market.

If the big dogs are planning on leaving their current cities, then I feel they owe it to their fans to agree to a sign and trade. That’s the least they can do for the franchise they are about to destroy. Make sure they get something back in return.

The destination that looks to be in the lead for these guys appears to be the Chicago Bulls because they have the cap space and roster pieces to entice two superstars to come to the Windy City.

I don’t understand why they would want to go there. Michael Jordan owned that city for a decade and a half. In fact, he still owns it. There’s no way in hell either Wade or LeBron could ever match up to His Airness in terms of career success, so why bother trying; especially in a city where direct comparisons are inevitable.

It makes much more sense to carve out your own niche, and legacy, in a city that doesn’t yet have one.

If LeBron wants obtain mythical status then he should stay in Cleveland. If he does that, and wins a title or two, then he can become Governor of Ohio when his playing days are over.

This is the last time I’m going to talk about this, until we find out exactly where these guys are going. I’d much rather concern myself with sports stories that have definitive denouements. Like if Brett Favre is going to play football again this year.

Shit.

Have a good weekend. Back on Monday.

"What's Wrong with the Jays?"

(BOD - Zooey Deschanel)

I have heard the above question a multitude of times over the past few weeks: on TV, on the radio, socializing with friends, and at the ballpark with my teammates. And since the Blue Jays are currently getting waxed by the pathetic Cleveland Indians, I felt it was time to weigh in.

Everyone wants to know what is wrong with the 2010 Toronto Blue Jays. How can an offence that set a major league record for homers in a month fall so precipitously in less than three weeks? What happened to the young, lights out pitching staff that was taking the American League hitters by surprise?

The answer: Toronto’s stellar play in the first two months of the season was an aberration. It was an anomaly. A deviation from the mean. Only the most clueless and ill-informed Jays fans (cough, Gretzpo, cough) would take solace in a winning record over the also-rans in the AL and extrapolate that to a playoff berth over the course of a 162 game season.

Conversely, I am ecstatic with the Jays record at the end of June. With the roster the Rogers conglomerate has cobbled together this season, I would have bet the team would have been 8-10 games under .500 at this point in the year. The fact they’re two games above completely mediocre should be cause for celebration.

I don’t understand why, once again, the majority of Jays fans were swindled by the team’s hot start when they had yet to the play the big dogs of the AL East. The same thing happened last season.

This team is going to endure some major growing pains on their way back to relevancy as a potential playoff team. Actually, this brings me to my next point. The question of “What’s Wrong with the Jays?” is an apt one, but most people are looking for an incorrect answer to their query.

There is nothing wrong with the Jays this season; they just aren’t a very good team. However, the pressing issue is why Toronto has not legitimately threatened for a playoff spot since the early 1990s. I mean, good God. That’s almost an entire generation we’ve suffered through without meaningful baseball to watch in September.

There are teen pop queens that I’m sexually attracted to that weren’t born when the Jays last won the World Series. How terrifying is that?

The Florida Marlins have won two World Series and completely blown up their roster three times since Joe Cater ‘touched ‘em all.’ The real question is why have fans stood idly by while team management has run this team into the ground time and time again over the last 18 years.

Exactly how long is a rebuilding process?

***There will be a special NBA free agent column tomorrow, so I will be celebrating Canada Day a day late and no column will be posted on Friday.

The Bachelorette: Never Leave Voicemail Messages to a Scorned Lover

(BOD - Nina Dobrev)

It’s great to see new readers visiting The Bachelorette recaps and contributing in the comments section. Keep it up.

8:00 – Cousin Tewks has declined to join us this evening. Something about “having to work.” He doesn’t fool me. He just doesn’t want anyone to see him cry when it’s revealed that some low-life contestant is two-timing Ali with a girl back home.

8:04 – Harrison makes a house call at the start of the episode. This is exciting. I have a feeling we’re going to get a great performance out of him tonight.

8:05 – This seems fake. How did they get cameras to Jessi’s house in time for this call?

8:06 – Who the hell is Jessica? She is brutal looking.

8:07 – Jessica should get an Oscar for this performance. Actually, she kind of looks like a beaver.

8:08 – I bet Harrison was hard during this explanation thinking of the ratings bonanza at his fingertips.

8:10 – How could Justin call this girl secretly when they have cameras everywhere? This is the Rozlyn situation all over again. Something smells fishy. And it’s not . . . ok that joke is just going to be extremely inappropriate.

8:16 – Wow, Ali’s cutting right to the chase. She’s ferocious when angry. Imagine what makeup sex would be like? Ali is turning me on. She must be a tigress in the bedroom.

8:17 – Look at Roberto consoling her. He’s fantastic; always has his head in the game.

8:18 – I like this move by Justin. Just get out of there and don’t say a word. He doesn’t owe Ali or the show an explanation. He tried to make a move for his career and it didn’t work. No big deal.

8:22 – Where is Justin trying to go exactly?

8:23 – This is painful. He’s just digging himself a deeper hole. It would have been better to leave silently.

8:25 – STOP SAYING YOU GAVE UP EVERYTHING TO BE ON THIS SHOW!!!! Ali needs to get off of her moral high horse. You’re on a television show looking for a husband. You’re just a different level of fame whore than Justin.

8:34 – How long did it take Ali to memorize the placard of the name of that mosque? I’m putting the over/under at three hours.

8:35 – I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this exact bath scene in a porno before.

8:36 – If Ali gives Ty a Nuru massage, I may have to sign off for awhile.

8:38 – “Oh, use your hands.” – That’s what she said.

8:39 – Ty has some pretty good game. I’m impressed with his skills; although, I would have forced Ali’s hand underneath my towel.

8:43 – How do they go on day long dates and still have topics to discuss? Wouldn’t you end up wanting to kill the person around hour eight?

8:44 – Ty is a pimp. There are some decent guys left minus Craig and Frank. The top 4 are pretty solid catches. Shit, I need to re-evaluate my life.

8:46 – What the hell has he been talking about the last five minutes? I have a headache, but Ali seems impressed.

8:47 – Jesus, pal, take a breath. This isn’t Shakespeare; enough with the soliloquies.

8:55 – I’m actually impressed these guys even know who Rapunzel is.

8:57 – Craig is fat. And where is the chest hair on these ‘ladies’? Come on fellas, embrace your inner manimals.

8:58 – I would challenge the big, goofy-looking guy with the unibrow. It would show Ali I mean business.

8:59 – “You can’t grab anything!” – Kirk. He does realize that they were just supposed to wrestle these guys and not give out happy endings, right?

9:00 – I would go for the DDT or the Razor’s Edge as my finishing move.

9:02 - Craig wins? That’s like the Jets beating the Colts in Super Bowl III.

9:07 – She’s dating more than one guy, Frank. Suck it up for Christ’s sakes.

9:08 – There is zero sexual chemistry between these two. CSzem and his bookie have more romance in their relationship.

9:17 – I don’t understand. When I try to take a woman to a flea market for a date, I’m considered a cheap, heartless prick. But if you go to one in Istanbul, it’s the epitome of romance. It’s not fair.

9:19 – WOW!!! Little Tewks just snapped to attention when Ali came out in that belly dancing outfit.

9:21 – Yeah, Frank’s right to be bored. She just took him shopping for three hours. That’s my definition of hell. Shopping with a woman? My God, I’d rather put a gun in my mouth.

9:26 – “We need to discuss the bigger things.” What a perfect opportunity to talk about my penis.

9:29 – I think Frank just shot himself in the foot. “So long, four eyes” - Mama Tewks singing Frank’s swan song.

9:31 – He’s getting a rose! I don’t understand Ali’s infatuation with this guy.

9:41 - I’ve never seen grown men so disappointed at the cancellation of a cocktail party before.

9:46 – It has to be Craig who is going home. I mean he’s the only guy Ali hasn’t kissed yet. He must have an inkling that his time is up. Craig and his receding hairline have reached their nadir on this show.

9:51 – “I just think the romance was missing between us.” Translation: You’re ugly.

What did you think? Post thoughts to comments. And did the producers just tell us what happens for the rest of the season?

Talkin' with Tewks Live: Sixpack None the Richer

(BOD - Ashley Greene. This week's BODs are all courtesy of Rambo)

What a weekend.

Gretzpo and I absolutely terrorized the Eastern seaboard over the past few days and somehow managed to survive to tell the tale.

We recorded a podcast yesterday morning in Atlantic City to recap the weekend's events.

Some highlights:

- Crossfitting at a New York State Rest Stop


- Driving in downtown Philadelphia

- Greztpo showing his naivete at a downtown Holiday Inn

- The atmosphere of a Phillies game

- Phillies fans

- A Rocky tribute

- Atlantic City Boardwalk

- Supergator 

- Our drinking prowess

- Gambling with the BJ kids

- Naming the MVP of the trip and a new nickname for Tewks

Talkin' with Tewks Live: Philly Roadtrip

Enjoy.

Tennis Marathon

(BOD - Beverly Mahood)

Last night was a night of firsts.

No, not that kind of first. This lasted way longer than 37 seconds and the young lady involved actually enjoyed herself.

I went to a Dave and Buster’s and got the shit kicked out of me at a variety of arcade games by a member of the fairer sex. It was completely emasculating; although, to listen to AG and He Who Hits Bombs pretty much ‘sext’ each other in the comments section, that ship has already sailed.

Now, in my defence, I have never been one to play video games. I think they are a complete waste of time. Thus, my lack of playing time causes me to be terrible at them; especially if they require you to press more than one button at a time. You put me on the original Nintendo and I will dominate. On the other hand, I can’t even figure out how to start a game on the Xbox.

Not only did she pump me in the video arcade, but she crushed, and I mean crushed, me in a legitimate free throw shooting competition. That was tough for me to take. I don’t like losing in sports, especially to someone with two X chromosomes. The only game I was able to redeem myself on was the football throwing contest.

I dominated that event. I was like Brett Favre out there. I purposely eschewed the high percentage passes in favour of chucking up long bombs. My strategy worked too. Although, I completed less than fifty percent of my passes I managed to score two touchdowns in two minutes. Now that’s what I call a 2 minute drill.

After my beatdown was over and I was nursing my sorrows with a beer, I happened to glance up at the sports ticker. The ticker was running through the Wimbledon scores and I saw the following: 6-4, 3-6, 6-7 (7), 7-6 (3), 59-59.

What?

I thought for a second I was hallucinating. Or maybe the tears from my defeat were stinging my eyes. Two guys were tied at 59-59 in the fifth set of a Grand Slam? It was hard to process mentally.

John Isner and Nicolas Mahut have played each other for over ten hours over two days. Their fifth set, already a robust seven hours and six minutes old, would, in itself, be the longest match in tennis history.

It’s amazing that these two players are still upright after playing for such an epic length of time. To put it into perspective, in Cuba, Gretzpo and I played our tennis/squash mix for approximately two hours a day for our entire week’s vacation. And we were wrecked physically from that ordeal. I can’t imagine what Isner and Mahut are going through right now.

The happiest person in England right now has to be the guy who gets to play the winner of this marathon. There’s no way either of these guys will have anything left in the tank to continue on in the tournament.

This is the last column of the week. Early tomorrow, Gretzpo and I embark on a pilgrimage to Philadelphia to worship at the altar of Doc Halladay. The G20 isn’t going to stop me from seeing Roy up close and personal. There also may be a Rocky spoof in the works, along with a special roadtrip podcast.

See you on Monday.

Soccer's Final Destination

(BOD - Ashlee Simpson)

For the first time in my life, I planned my day around watching a soccer game. From the moment I woke up in the morning, I kept reminding myself to tune into Argentina’s final round robin game (notice I said round robin; GFY CSzem).

Sure, my lack of full time employment makes such an attempt possible, but it’s a valiant effort for someone who has never watched more than five minutes of consecutive soccer before this June.

So, I switched on the game right around 2:30pm and within minutes, I quickly became disappointed. My new favourite (make that only favourite) player, Jonas Gutierrez, was not in the starting lineup. How did I know this? Well, I would have recognized that hair and tight jersey anywhere.

I almost stopped watching immediately, but then quickly remembered that Maradona is still the coach of the squad and I took comfort in his fantastic reaction shots and all around combustible personality.

But where was Captain Jack Gutierrez?

I went directly to my sports oracle for the skinny on Jonas’ alarming absence. CSzem informed that he may have received a yellow card in a previous game and Maradona decided to rest the star for fear of getting a red. Or they were just resting him in general as Argentina was virtually assured of winning their group.

I can understand the decision from a managerial standpoint, but Maradona should really think of casual fans like myself and put his best squad on the field at all times to ensure the maximum enjoyment of television audience.

What did I think of the game?

Honestly, without an offensive-minded, creative squad like Argentina and without the histrionics of Maradona, I would have wanted to kill myself. Anytime Greece had the ball, I found myself looking around the room, searching for some paint to dry. Greece had no interest in matching Argentina’s aggressive style.

I can only imagine what it would be like to watch two teams play mind-numbingly boring soccer like that. I assume that’s what hell is like.

I sincerely think the flair of the Argentina squad and the genius of Lionel Messi are the only reasons why I’m able to watch in the first place. I mean I was entertained and I could appreciate pure athleticism and skill but, outside of the World Cup, I would hardly consider soccer to be appointment viewing.

That got me thinking of where soccer will ultimately end up on my sports radar (which is a victory in itself because even deep sea sonar wouldn’t have registered soccer on the list of sports I moderately care about as little as four weeks ago).

As I touched on in the podcast, I ultimately think soccer will assume a position beside Olympic curling and skiing in terms of my getting behind the sport. I don’t give a shit about skiing or curling in a non-Olympic setting. Anytime I see either sport on weekend afternoons on CBC, I can’t change the channel fast enough.

However, I am mesmerized by both sports during the Olympics. I think soccer will end up on the same level. I’ll pick a World Cup team once every four years to follow but, other than that, I will have zero interest in the sport.

I can’t see myself getting jacked up for a Toronto FC game, without first serving up my manhood on a silver platter to the estrogen police. So, all of you soccer fans better get your fill in the next two weeks because Talkin’ with Tewks’ soccer coverage will disappear at the conclusion of the World Cup.

Then you’ll have to wait until 2014 for the game to warrant a mention on here again. Actually, if I’m still writing this blog in the same capacity in four years, then I’ll have much bigger problems than soccer to worry about.

Bachelorette Recap: Chris N, We Hardly Knew Ye

(BOD - Miranda Kerr)

I am literally shaking in anticipation of what Kasey will do next. Great comments as always last week, let’s keep them coming. Props to Patty for continuing to drum up support for my candidacy as a future contestant. I can already out-baseball Roberto and out-cry the Weatherman, so it’s about time Tewks unleashed his fury on one lucky bachelorette.

8:00 – Another full house tonight. I’m joined by Mama, Sister and Cousin Tewks. Let the insanity begin.

8:02 – “Are you willing to do that?” – Kasey in reference to his tattoo. No, Kasey, I’m not willing to do that because I’m not a fucking moron.

8:05 – Love poems. Are you shitting me? What’s next? A guitar sing-off? Kasey’s already recited at least six terrible poems so far this season. I bet he’s trying to figure out what rhymes with ‘guard’ and ‘protect’.

8:07 – Chris N with some camera time!! That was so exciting.

8:12 – “I’ll be able to see her heart and she’ll be able to see mine.” I’m confused. Is Kasey planning on dissecting Ali on their next date?

8:15 – “I’ve got my shield ready to go.” Now, I’m really confused. Does Kasey think he’s in 300?

8:16 – Let’s give Chris N a break. It’s the first time he’s spoken in three weeks.

8:17 – “Ohhhhhhhh” – Cousin Tewks in appreciation of Kirk’s poem. The steak dinner we just had certainly didn’t make him any straighter.

8:25 – I would love to go sweater shopping with Kirk. Wait, I mean Ali.

8:28 – Rated R and Kasey on the 2 on 1 date? That is fantastic. Almost like Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant at Wrestlemania III.

8:35 – Kirk’s story sounds like a case for Dr. House. He would have diagnosed that shit in 42 minutes plus commercials.

8:38 – Kasey can take the physical pain. Yeah, you’re a tough guy, mister fancy pants, with your cute little tattoo.

8:46 – “How do you guys feel about going down there?” I’ll go down, Ali. Oh, you mean in the cave. Never mind, I’m good.

8:56 – All of the blood in my body flowed directly to my nether regions when Ali stripped down to that bikini. My God. That was the greatest moment in the history of this program. That should win an Emmy.

8:58 – If I was Ty, I’d be trying to undo her bathing suit top right now.

9:02 – Ali is HAMMERED with Frank right now. This is hilarious. He should be taking advantage of her ASAP.

9:03 – She’s so drunk!

9:09 – Exactly how big is the helicopter budget on this show?

9:13 – Rated R think he’s on a game show. He’s in it for the competition and that’s it.

9:20 – Just show her the fucking tattoo already!!

9:22 – Ali is terrified of Kasey. She has had that fake smile plastered to her face for the last five minutes.

9:23 – “Here’s a piece of me I want to share with you.” In Kasey’s defence, I would probably say the same thing to Ali, but we’d be referring to different organs.

9:25 – Ali’s crying solely because she’s terrified that Kasey’s going to throw himself off the glacier.

9:27 – Justin’s a tool too. Yeah, we get it. You’re an unsuccessful professional wrestler without a future in the business. Give it a rest already.

9:34 – What look does Ali want in a man? Unbridled enthusiasm mixed with a serial killer’s zeal?

9:35 – Great move by Craig R with the fake tattoo. Funny and topical. Well done, sir.

9:36 – Chris N is awful. How the hell has he made it this far? That was excruciating to watch.

9:40 – “Roberto’s got some nice dimple action.” Surprisingly, Mama Tewks, not Cousin Tewks, said that.

9:47 – Harrison needs to spice up these interviews. I want the last five minutes of my life back.

9:53 – “Are you kidding me?” – Mama Tewks, when Frank got the rose. She really hates him with a passion. I think it’s the glasses. Or maybe the beady, little eyes. Or the terrible personality.

9:55 – Chris N is like the T-1000 from Terminator 2. He can’t compute human emotion.

9:56 – “I’m at a loss for words, to be honest.” And Chris N perfectly encapsulated his Bachelorette experience in one sentence.

9:57 – “It’s only going to get harder.” That’s what she said.

The scenes from next week look incredible.

What did you think? Post thoughts to comments.

Talkin' with Tewks Live: La Coupe De la Monde

(BOD - Candice Swanepoel)

I have to hand it to CSzem. His passion for such a wussy sport is really starting to rub off on me. I am following Argentina with a fervour and I actually contributed to this week's podcast with soccer questions and comments instead of just mailing it in and pretending to listen to what CSzem has to say.

Some highlights from today's podcast:

- More Argentina love
- Unveiling my mancrush on Argentine defender Jonas Gutierrez
- Comparing Lionel Messi to Daniel LaRusso at the beginning of The Karate Kid
- Discussing the pitfalls and benefits of dating Diego Maradona's daughter
- Adoration for the World Cup referees
- Condeming soccer players for their incessant diving
- Bringing red and yellow cards into other sports and life
- Vuvuzelas
- Determining when Miley Cyrus turns 18

Talkin' with Tewks Live: World Cup #2

Enjoy.

Tewks and Kobe: Kings of the Mountain

(BOD - Amy Adams)

Game 7 of the NBA Finals took place last night, with Kobe winning his fifth title and second straight NBA Finals MVP award. I think it’s safe to say, without hyperbole, that he’s the most important person in the history of basketball save for Dr. James Naismith.

Did I watch? No. I had to pitch last and I’m glad I did. I threw a no-hitter, striking out 10 and surrendering only one walk. I walked the second batter of the game and that was the only batter who reached base all night.

To prove I’m not making this up, check this out (scroll down below latest scores). What did I do after my performance? Did I rest on my laurels? Well, I did have two beers in celebration with the boys, but when I got home I went for a mile run, did 20 pullups, 40 pushups and 60 squats. I’m just like Doc Halladay (except, you know, not as good or as rich). There’s always work to be done.

Basically, this preamble means that I entrusted CSzem to cover Game 7, primarily because I wanted to see if he’d actually be able to watch the game without Mrs. CSzem murdering him in the process. Let’s see how it turned out:

Around lunchtime on Thursday (at least I think it was lunchtime and I think it was Thursday...as you can imagine the events of the last few days are a bit of a blur), Tewks asked me to once again "pinch-blog", as baseball would preclude him from giving proper credence to Game 7 of the NBA Finals - an event in which (as an avid sports fan and even more avid gambler) I would no doubt have a keen interest.

Never one to leave a friend in the lurch (or alienate a burgeoning double-digit readership), I agreed despite my unusual circumstances. I did, however, first offer a warning to Tewks regarding the following:

Due to lack of computer access, I'd be sitting in a hospital room writing my entry on my Blackberry. My fatherly duties would - of course - take precedence over the game at some point. And the only TV I have access to is old enough to be my son's father, and is located in a public lounge next to our hospital room, so I may or may not have control of the channel selected (assuming the rabbit ears work and we get any channels at all).

And then I think I clued in on what might have been the point all along. New Dad + Sports Freak + Gambling Addict + Limited Game Access = Entertainment (for others)....let the hilarity ensue.

8:48 - Fastly approaching tip-off, Mother and Baby are resting comfortably. OSzem has shaken off this afternoon's "procedure" (he'll thank me later), and a recent bout of the hiccups, and looks about ready to pack it in for the night. This might just go off without a hitch.

8:51 - So much for that. I don't think Mrs. CSzem ever liked that shirt much anyways.

8:57 - We've now got official clearance from Mrs. CSzem to watch the game. The catch: She wants to sleep, so O-Szem is coming with me to the lounge. Given the fact that I haven't figured out how to hold him with my left arm, and the fact that I am not particularly adept at typing with that hand, this should make for an interesting edit for Tewks before posting.

9:04 - Good start. The game is on and a nice lady gave me a better chair.

9:12 - This is going to be tough. OSzem freaks out when I move my left hand.

9:15 -  Airball by #5 in green. Never would have happened if Kevin Garnett was still alive.

9:25 - That's a crazy face. I think OSzem’s hungry.

9:32 - Not sure who had a better first quarter? The Celtics or OSzem? Let's see if either of them can hold this together for 4 quarters.

9:51 - OSzem's keeping it together. The Celtics? Not so much. Even Jack Nicholson has outscored the Celtics this quarter (that's a lie, neither of them have any points....although Jack managed to escape KG from killing him while diving into the front row. ANYTHING'S POSSIBLLLLLE!!!!!)

9:55 - The Nurse just halted OSzem's momentum. Something about "checking vitals". Doesn't she know this is Game 7?

10:36 - I feel like the game is probably back on. A few years ago, I might not have been mature enough to miss part of this potentially epic/historic game. Good thing I've changed.

10:37 - Oh for Christ's sakes. How much can a one day old eat?!?!? The game is on. Come on! Come oooooooooon!!!! No fair! All the other Dads are watching!

11:00 - We're back!! Wow, did I even miss anything? Did anyone score in the hour I was gone? Is Brian Scalabrine on the floor? What the Hell's going on?

11:13 - "If the Celtic's win, Daddy hits a parlay son. Do you know what that means?" (Aside from being able to afford next week's supply of diapers)

11:30 - This is the biggest shit I've ever seen. Am I talking about my son or the shooting at the start of the fourth quarter???

And that's it. OSzem's first Game 7 in the books. I'd love to call it exciting, but the game sucked for 45 minutes.

I'm off the change a diaper, and then toss and turn on my makeshift bed (i.e. two chairs pushed together) for a few hours.

Congrats to Tewks for somehow not spending 5000 words telling us about his no-hitter.

US Open Preview

(BOD - Vanessa Perroncel)

The United States Open Championship at Pebble Beach starts tomorrow and, to be perfectly honest, I had no idea the tournament was to be played this weekend until just a few days ago. In a normal year, that never happens, but this golf season just feels different with the continued trials and tribulations of Eldrick Woods.

Besides the Masters, Tiger has struggled mightily this year, whether it be with his confidence in his game or confidence in his injured neck. He seems completely mortal this year, unlike the Tiger of old. So much so that other golfers are actually starting to chirp Woods, saying he is no longer invincible and has chinks in his armour. The worst part is that they’re right.

Two years ago, Tiger would have filed those comments in his memory bank and bludgeoned the perpetrators by eighteen strokes on the golf course. Unfortunately, his game is not good enough to do that at this point. Maybe he turns it around this week, but I’m not holding my breath.

Ordinarily, I plan my entire weekend around the season’s four majors, but, this year, I am completely ambivalent towards tuning in or not. That never happens.

However, this is all part of a weird 24 hours for me and this blog. Last night, I received word that the family Szem has officially increased by one member. Baby Szem (from now on referred to as OSzem) finally made his appearance into the world last night after taking his sweet ass time for what seemed like an eternity.

Congratulations to Mrs. Cszem (let’s be honest, CSzem’s duties pretty much ended nine months ago and, even then, I’m sure it was a less than inspired performance)!!

I have two hopes for OSzem: that he takes after the mother in every category possible except for sports knowledge and he starts talking soon as we can groom him as a replacement host for the podcasts.

It’s very exciting as this is the first child of Talkin’ with Tewks (that we know of. There’s an excellent chance I have fathered a baseball team’s worth of kids all over North America over the past seven years).

The next weird moment is taking place right now as I write this. Currently, I am watching my new favourite soccer team, Argentina, play their second game against South Korea. I’m still not sure what exactly is going as I’m mesmerized by the hair on Maradona and the rest of the boys. In fact, I would prefer a camera on Maradona at all times; his reactions are way more exciting than the actual game.

He’s dribbling the ball every time it comes near him. Plus, he’s still looking a pimp with his coiffed hair and fitted suit. He’s the best. I really need to get my hands on a jersey ASAP.

Back to the US Open: a lot of pundits are picking a young gun to win this year’s tourney. I wholeheartedly disagree. The US Open is the most difficult test in golf. You can’t shoot a low number or be aggressive on a US Open course. You will get eaten alive.

Young golfers will not have the temperament to navigate Pebble Beach for four long, arduous rounds. In fact, the only player under 35 with a chance to win is Tiger Woods. Otherwise, look for the newest member of the fortieth birthday club, Phil Mickelson, to capture the second leg of the grand slam.

The Lake Show Guarantees One More Night

(BOD - Kylie Minogue)

Game 6 was tremendously exciting and enjoyable to watch from the perspective of a self-described Kobe super fan. At no point during last night’s contest was I worried that the Lakers weren’t going to force a Game 7.

And it had nothing to do with Kobe solidifying his status as the frontrunner for the Finals MVP trophy (is anyone else even close? Who wins it for the Celtics? Rondo’s been handling the ball like a grenade and can’t make shot from the free throw line. Ray Allen just can’t make a shot).

No, it had everything to do with Los Angeles exploiting their home court advantage and soaking up the atmosphere within the comfy confines of the Staples Center. I’ve mentioned this before, but the home team in an NBA game has such a glaring advantage with thousands of fans cheering them on in such an intimate setting. Plus, I’m confident that a loud crowd can influence referees to make subconscious (or conscious) calls in favour of the home team.

I was nervous during every game played in Boston because of that fact. Also, with the Lakers depending on a head case like Ron Artest it’s good for him to play basking in the home crowd’s love as opposed to hearing derisive chants from Celtic fans.

Speaking of derisive chants, every time Lamar Odon went to the free throw line in Boston the crowd would serenade him with chants of “Ugly Sister!” because Odom happens to be married to the least attractive Kardashian sister. No wonder he sucked so bad in Game 5.

I was surprised that the crowd at the Staples Center was so loud and boisterous considering it’s made up of so many celebrities unable to make distinct facial expressions because they’re loaded up with so much botox. Even Jack Nicholson was getting into the act, yelling and gesticulating wildly at several points in the game. He looked like an old man trying to get some unruly teenagers to stay off his lawn, but the effort was there.

The biggest difference between Game 5 and Game 6 was the play of the Lakers supporting cast. After Kobe was forced to pretty much play 1 on 5 during the second half of Game 5, I’m sure he had some choice words for his teammates.

In fact, with Pau Gasol and Artest playing so well last night, it wouldn’t surprise me if Kobe threatened to kill their family pets if they didn’t get their act together last night. And that’s why Kobe’s the best player in the game. Trust me, he is not letting his team lose at home in Game 7. He will, uh, will the Lakers to victory.

Speaking of supporting casts, who the hell is Shannon Brown and how did he turn Game 6 into his own personal slam drunk contest? He was incredible last night and had more energy than anyone else on the floor. If LA can get more terrific contributions from its bench then Boston is in big trouble, especially considering the Celtics bench was outscored 24-0 after three quarters.

It’s great to see Boston’s subs playing so lousy led by the moronic Big Baby Davis. After his pathetic preening and prancing around one good game he has faded back into obscurity and shitty play just like I predicted. It looks good on him.

Start planning the parade now Laker fans.

I'm Here to Guard and Protect this Bachelorette Recap

(BOD - Katherine Heigl)

Another Monday night, another episode of The Bachelorette. It’s like Christmas morning each and every week.

There were some terrific comments last week: from the Family Szem weighing in with their usual great contributions to newcomers Carissa, Rambo, and Gretzpo joining this season’s fray. Special mention to The Fleurys for the excellent rundown of the remaining contestants. Comparing Justin to Joran Van Der Sloot absolutely killed me. Funny, topical and the epitome of bad taste.

Let’s keep it going this week.

8:00 – We have a full house tonight. I’m joined by Mama Tewks, Sister Tewks and Cousin Tewks. Cousin Tewks is a 27 year old man with a predilection for romantic comedies. I think it’s quite obvious that manliness and testosterone do not swim in our gene pool.

8:03 – The travel graphic looked a little cheap. I kept getting flashbacks to Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?

8:04 – I think this designer is straighter than the Weatherman.

8:05 – Sister Tewks said the following after the designer said Ali didn’t need a lot of makeup. “Oh bullshit. Yes, she does. She’s a slut.” Wow, I’m not quite sure how to follow that line of logic.

8:07 – “Her roots are showing.” Mama Tewks. The claws are sharp tonight.

8:08 – Cousin Tewks just used the word ‘fashionista’ in a sentence. That has to be a new record. Eight minute from straight to gay while watching this show.

8:15 – Why do they take helicopters everywhere? This isn’t a very green friendly show. I’d like to know what The Bachelorette’s carbon footprint is.

8:16 – I have no idea what Kasey is saying, but he sounds like he has peanut butter on the roof of his mouth.

8:17 – Oh my God. Oh dear Christ. He’s singing. Please make it stop. It’s like watching a car crash. I don’t want to watch, but it’s impossible to look away.

8:17 – This is like a bad American Idol audition. Cousin Tewks – “That was awesome.” He’s hooked. And another one bites the dust.

8:22 – Why do they run everywhere?

8:25 – Ali is legitimately terrified of Kasey. I think she’s scared that she’s going to end up a well in his basement. He’s like Buffalo Bill. It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again.

8:26 – He’s singing again! What is wrong with this guy? This is more awkward than the night I lost my virginity, but I think Kasey’s song lasted a little bit longer.

8:27 – This is a smart decision by Ali. Good job, girl. Get rid of the serial killer.

8:28 – Wait, what? Why are you giving him another chance?

8:28 – His funny side? I think Ali and I have different definitions of humour. There’s nothing funny about being chopped up and left in a meat freezer.

8:34 – “I think the forecast looks pretty good today.” I think I can speak for everyone watching when I say, Weatherman, you can go fuck yourself.

8:36 – The Weatherman is way too excited to be on Broadway. Gaydar is off the charts right now. At this point, I’d actually be surprised if we got confirmation he’s straight.

8:38 – I actually prefer these singing clips over Kasey’s warbling.

8:39 - Once again, Roberto knocks it out of the park. The guy is a machine. He’s like Joe DiMaggio during his 56 game hitting streak.

8:41 – “I like Roberto and I like Jesse” - Sister Tewks. “I haven’t picked my favourite yet” - Cousin Tewks. He might be more pathetic than I am.

8:45 – Ali’s got some sneaky big breasts. They’re like a rising fastball with late life.

8:47 – “He is kind of handsome” - Cousin Tewks on Roberto. I’m at a loss for words. I can literally see his penis inverting itself into his abdomen.

8:57 – Mama Tewks is just railing on Ali’s voice. Is it really that bad? To me, it sounds like a cloud dipped in honey.

9:01 – Nice move, Kirk. If he was smart, he’d be laying an ungodly amount of pipe right now.

9:02 – Kirk with a tremendous performance. Now that is how you woo a woman. Leave her wanting more. Both Cousin Tewks and I just gave him a golf clap in respect for his game.

9:15 - Kasey’s tattoo is completely ridiculous, but at least he didn’t write Ali’s name on his arm or something equally stupid. On a related note, did you know that he’s here to guard her heart?

9:17 – Not to be a dick, but Chris L needs to cool it on the Mom talk. He’s making it very tough to make fun of this show.

9:21 – Justin, some advice. Professional wrestling villains don’t use the word ‘fibber.’

9:23 – I guarantee Chris L was disappointed after Ali asked him to go upstairs. I bet he thought he was going to get some birthday sex. Instead, he has to listen to some emotional jackoff play his guitar.

9:25 – Chris L needs to learn how to kiss. It looks like he took lessons from Ralph Macchio’s drop and drive with Elisabeth Shue at the end of The Karate Kid.

9:28 – Craig is a douchebag. He’s only mouthing off to Justin because he knows you can’t have a physical confrontation on these shows. What a chickenshit. In the real world, Justin would beat his ass with his crutches.

9:30 – The Weatherman did not break out a fucking guitar. You gotta be fucking kidding me!!! This is brutal. I hate all of these guys. They are so lame.

9:31 – “I’m more of a singer-songwriter.” That comment brought out the biggest laugh of the night
at Casa di Tewks. The Weatherman has so little self-awareness, I’m actually starting to feel bad for him. That’s a lie. He’s terrible.

9:39 – The reactions on these guys when Kasey unveiled his tattoo were priceless. Just complete shock. Also, they realized that they have to live with this psychopath for an extended period of time. I’d be scared for my life.

9:48 – Kirk moved up the highest this week. Just a transcendent performance.

9:49 – Who the hell is Chris N.? He literally did not say one word the entire episode.

9:51 – Kasey? You cannot be serious? Ali is really making it hard to for me to have an unhealthy crush on her.

9:52 – And the Weatherman blubbers like a baby. He just flushed his career down the toilet.

Iceland looks very promising.

What did you think? Post thoughts to comments.

Talkin' with Tewks Live: The World Cup

(BOD - Eva Mendes)

As someone severely lacking in foot-eye coordination, I never thought I would ever discuss soccer in this space. On the other hand, CSzem, due to his excessive gambling problem, has embraced the sport wholeheartedly.

Somehow he was able to coerce me into a World Cup podcast. Surprisingly enough, I actually enjoyed it and I'm somewhat excited to see how my adopted team will fare in the tournament (you'll have to listen to find out which country that is; I'm very excited about this burgeoning relationship).

Talkin' with Tewks Live - The World Cup

Enjoy.

NBA Finals Now a Best of Three

(BOD - Kim Kardashian's Breasts)

I can’t sit here and lie and pretend that I watched Game 4 of the NBA Finals in its entirety. While I lie about many things (my sexual prowess and intelligence), sport is one area where I am completely truthful.

Blame the NBA for starting games past 9pm on the East Coast. How stupid is that? All playoff games for all sports should end by 10pm so the leagues can acquire new, young fans. It’s really too smart of an idea for these corporate morons to accept.

That being said, I was able to watch the first half and then catch up on the second half game story by watching highlights and reading recaps of last night’s tightly contested battle.

Here’s my big takeaway from the Celtic’s single digit victory: I hate everyone on the Boston roster. I swear I’m not letting my man love for Kobe Bryant cloud my judgement, but I found myself openly rooting for rolled ankles to strike everyone in a white and green uniform.

The Celtics have been afflicted with what I call “Chris Bosh Syndrome.” CBS strikes immediately after making a basket. Said player preens and prances around with a sneer on his face trying to look like a tough guy. Alternatively, CBS can cause a player to let fly with a guttural wail reminiscent of Gerard Butler in 300. Once again, this action is supposed to make the player seem tough and an unstoppable offensive force.

Newsflash: it makes you look like a pathetic douchebag. You know what else it does? Proves that you’re not actually that good in the first place if you need to do that after every basket. What does Kobe do after he scores? Nothing, he just gets back on defence. Why? BECAUSE HE SCORES ALL THE TIME!!!

Big Baby Davis was the biggest perpetrator last night. He just looked ridiculous, so much so that he resembled a cartoon character by the end of the game. Big deal, you had one good game. The Lakers will shove it down your throat on Sunday and you’ll fade back into obscurity. Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce do the same shit. You two aren’t tough. They can just talk a big game, but have never shown the cojones to back it up.

Rasheed Wallace drew my ire last night as well. After EVERY foul called against he’d run around in a circle like clucking chicken with his eyes bugged to express his disappointment over the call. Way to be a big boy, Sheed.

However, I do like one Boston player: Rajon Rondo. He has made several spectacular plays throughout the postseason and he just acts like it’s a part of his job. The rest of the team should take notice and cool it with the amateurish histrionics.

It’s disappointing that a Boston team has denigrated themselves like this when the originator of ‘Act like you’ve scored before’ celebrations is the immortal Bobby Orr.

I’m not worried about the Lakers losing last night. Tied 2-2, the series is still on serve in terms of home court advantage. The Lakers have to win two more games and they have two more chances at home with Jack, Sly and Denzel in attendance.

Kobe will be raising his fifth Larry O’Brien trophy in the air next week and cement his status as one of the top 5 players in the history of the game (that’s for CSzem. Watch him do his best Big Baby impression in the comments section).

What a Terrible Night

(BOD - Megan Fox)

Where do I begin to discuss the desultory results from the sports world last night?

Luckily, I wasn’t forced to witness these travesties firsthand as I was otherwise engaged for the majority of the night. I supposed to attend a practice with the minor baseball team I am helping coach, but it was cancelled due to rain.

Instead, it was deemed we would have a ‘coaches meeting’ to discuss the season so far and plan out the rest of summer schedule. This pretty much involved immature behaviour and the consumption of adult beverages at the house of a coach whose wife is away for the week. Needless to say, it was a good time.

However, throughout the meeting, we received periodic updates on both the Jays game and Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

It was a matchup of aces as Shaun Marcum squared off against David Price in the second game of their series at Tropicana Field. Price dominated Toronto, with less than stellar stuff, and the Rays hitters lit Marcum up.

In the last two games, the Blue Jays have been outscored 19-1. Apparently, I may have been off on my prediction of a Toronto collapse by a series. I assumed they would get destroyed by the Yankees, but instead they waited until they were outside of the comfy confines of the Rogers Centre to start their late spring swoon.

The Jays are D-U-N. Done. The vaunted offence has gone silent thus far in June and more games against the AL East and the National League will only exacerbate the discrepancy between the Haves in MLB and the Toronto Have-nots.

The Chicago Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup last night. I’m happy for the city of Chicago as they won their first Cup since 1961 breaking the NHL’s longest drought (which now belongs to the Toronto Maple Leafs, which brings me great joy).

But that happiness is jaded considerably with the sickening news that Patrick Kane scored the winning goal in overtime. Are you kidding me?

I’m a big believer in karma, so I don’t understand how that little twerp can make such reprehensible decisions last summer and be a Stanley Cup champion a year later. It makes me sick to my stomach.

I’m not going to let Kane enjoy this moment so let’s take a journey down memory lane to see what I’ve said about one of the biggest pussies in professional sports:

Here are my initial thoughts on his cab driver skirmish where he punched an elderly cab driver because the cabbie wouldn’t give him a dollar and twenty cents change. You all really need to read it in its entirety. I’m at my acerbic best. Here’s a quick excerpt (it was so hard to choose one):

But Patrick Kane couldn’t try to start something with someone his own age. First, that would require him to not be a huge pussy, which, evidently, is asking a lot. No, he had to pick on an elderly cab driver. Did he start something with this cab driver one on one?

Of course not. He needed the help of his cousin to choke and punch the poor guy because of a fare dispute. Fighting mano a mano, even against a senior citizen, necessitates at least an ounce of testosterone flowing through one’s veins. Obviously little Patty doesn’t have any of that in his system; if he did, then he would probably be able to grow facial hair and weigh more than 150lbs.

Here’s more Kane bashing (scroll down) and some more (scroll down). Lastly, there’s this (scroll to the end).

And an anecdote to really make this column pop. At the Ontario Senior baseball championships in London last year, I saw Patrick Kane and some of his loser friends try to skip the line at a bar (Kane played junior hockey in London). The bouncers wouldn’t let him in for two reasons. He was way too drunk and he had cocaine residue all over his suit jacket.

There have been rumours of similar behaviour from Kane for months. Patrick Kane – bully, punk, and scrawny, cocaine-fuelled jackass.

A real class act.

Strasburg is the Real Deal

(BOD - Marla Hooch. What a hitter!)

Some general housekeeping:

At some point yesterday afternoon, Talkin’ with Tewks received its 10,000th visitor. This is a monumental occasion and a testament to this blog’s popularity (or it’s a testament to how much I can refresh a webpage in a day).

Nevertheless, I feel like I should be standing on an aircraft carrier, in a flight suit, with a giant “Mission Accomplished” banner hanging behind me. Of course, I’m not one to rest on my laurels (that would mean I have laurels in the first place), so I will continue to keep banging out columns at my usual pace.

See you at 20,000.

There were some terrific comments and opinions posted to yesterday’s Bachelorette recap. I agreed with the majority of them, vehemently disagreed with one (Rambo, I’m looking in your direction) and, based on some suggestions, have managed to coerce Mama Tewks to watch the rest of the season with me and make more inappropriate comments.

How about that Stephen Strasburg?

His performance last night in his major league debut was nothing short of incredible. It’s not the stats that impressed me the most, it’s the fact Strasburg was able to surpass the tremendous hype surrounding his debut and completely shatter everyone’s expectations.

How big was his start? I found myself lamenting the fact I couldn’t watch the game live. Has such a sentence ever been written about a game involving the Washington Nationals and the Pittsburgh Pirates?

I am not new to the Strasburg train. Last April, I wrote a column on the kid before he exploded into the public consciousness when he was taken first overall in the 2009 MLB Entry Draft.

Back then, my adoration for the flamethrower was already burgeoning. After last night, it has reached a fever pitch. Strasburg’s stuff is FILTHY. Its one thing to dominate college kids and minor leaguers, but to make major league hitters flinch on curveballs and look plain silly on high fastballs is something maybe a handful of guys can do in the entire league.

Strasburg did this in his first start!

Let’s take a closer look at his line: 7IP, 14Ks, 0BB, 94 pitches.

At first glance, most people are going to be blown away by the gaudy strikeout total, as well they should. Fourteen strikeouts, especially in only seven innings, are extraordinary in any outing, nevermind that it was his big league debut.

Allow me to flex some insider baseball knowledge: I’m much more impressed by the walk total and the pitch count. Most pure strikeout pitchers also walk a lot of batters; the two stats go hand in hand. Nolan Ryan holds both the career strikeout record and the career walk record.

Strasburg was able to strike out a ton of batters, but also possessed pinpoint accuracy. That is a very scary proposition to the rest of the National League.

To strikeout a lot of hitters, a pitcher is going to throw a lot of pitches. It’s virtually impossible to do so otherwise. For example, I have a lot of strikeouts so far this year and I guarantee I’ve thrown over 100 pitches in each outing. It’s hard not to throw a lot of pitches when ringing up Ks.

Strasburg only threw 94 pitches in seven innings. With 14 strikeouts. That type of pitch count with that performance is absolutely unheard of.

He also struck out the last seven batters he faced and threw his last pitch of the night at 98 miles an hour. That means he got stronger as the game went on. He was only pulled from the game because he was on a strict pitch count.

Can you imagine if he has a similar performance a year from now, not shackled by a pitch count? Next June, the Nationals will probably let him stretch out to 120, 125 pitches if the outing doesn’t have any high stress innings (i.e. runners in scoring position).

You’re looking at possibly 19 or 20 strikeouts. Strasburg officially has no ceiling. He once struck out 23 in a college game. Could he do that in the Show?

After what I saw last night, I’m not betting against him.

I am Writing this Recap for the Right Reasons

(BOD - Katy Perry)

Before we begin today’s recap, let’s all have a moment of silence for Craig M’s hair.

There we go. It will be missed.

8:02 – Roberto would have my first choice for a one on one date as well. If, you know, I was a woman.

8:04 – Ali has mentioned on more than one occasion that she’s terrified of flying. Why do the producers keep forcing her into the air?

8:05 – The helicopter scene reminds me so much of Anchorman. Roberto’s voice is so smooth it could make a wolverine purr.

8:06 – “I’m at a deficit” - Justin talking about his cast and how it affects his gameplay. I’m fairly certain the word he was looking for is “disadvantage.” I swear all Canadians aren’t that stupid.

8:08 – Great move by Roberto going for the first kiss on the high wire. The guy is on a different playing field compared to these other stiffs. He has tremendous game. My mancrush is approaching dangerously high levels.

8:13 – Did Kasey just say he wanted Ali to hear his singing voice? Really? That’s what you want to emphasize there, big guy? The less talking you do, the better.

8:14 – Roberto speaks different languages and he’s travelled the world? He’s too perfect. CSzem’s right, he has a girlfriend.

8:15 – “I don’t like being stiff at a table.” Neither do I, Ali. I prefer being stiff on my back.

8:17 – “Skank!” Mama Tewks first contribution of the night, while Ali and Roberto were making out on the blanket. Good to have her here.

8:24 – Craig R’s friends are going to be jealous of him for being in a music video? Does he have any friends who aren’t teenagers?

8:25 – Why is no one asking Ali to slow dance to this Barenaked Ladies “hit” song? That would be an automatic move for me and Roberto. Why am I not on this show again?

8:27 – The Weatherman is nervous to kiss Ali? What is wrong with this guy? I’m getting a real strong virgin vibe from him.

8:30 – I just said Ali looked great in that yellow bikini. Mama Tewks reply: “Oh, she’s sucking it in.” She’s in rare form tonight.

8:33 – The Weatherman IS PATHETIC!! Why is he still here? Bring Craig M back.

8:34 – “It was all wrong.” Ali just summed up the Weatherman’s entire sorry sexual career here in one second.

8:34 – He’s crying? Oh my dear Christ. I’m sorry, there is no way any woman on Earth would be attracted to the Weatherman. What a joke.

8:36 – If I was in Kirk’s scene, Little Tewks would have gotten some screen time, that’s for damn sure.

8:43 – After Chris L mentioned that his mom passed away, Mama Tewks remarked, “Oh, no mother-in-law issues.” Now you all know where I get it from.

8:44 – The following verdict has been reached in the Tewks household: The Weatherman is a homosexual. The evidence is piling up.

8:46 – Mama Tewks on Hunter: “Big ears, funny mouth.” I may just get her to write the recap next week.

8:56 – I like this move by Justin to go visit Ali at her house. She has to appreciate the Bataan Death March he’s willing to embark on for her. That is an impressive feat; I have to give the guy credit.

8:59 – Nice move on bringing the baby photos out too. Justin is rapidly climbing the charts and he’s wooing Ali big time with all of this family talk. He’s really redeeming himself for the Great White North with this performance.

9:07 – Ali’s putting on the apron and cooking for her date with Hunter? Now we’re talking. Enough with the modern approach, let’s get back to traditional gender roles.

9:10 – Hunter is legitimately ugly. And stop calling Ali baby and darling, you creepy little pervert.

9:11 – Ali has zero physical attraction to this chump. My only question is how has he made it this far?

9:17 – Justin is a fantastic actor. I call bullshit on his quitting professional wrestling to be with Ali. He would leave her in a heartbeat if Vince McMahon offered him a tag team partnership with Doink the Clown.

9:28 – “What a bunch of women.” I think Mama Tewks perfectly encapsulated the bachelors on this season.

9:31 – Yeah, Steve, nice move. Make Ali sit on hard concrete in a dress. I’m sure she’ll love that.

9:32 – Watching Steve struggle with the champagne bottle is like watching a 17 year old kid unhook a bra.

9:38 – Ok, Ali is just trying to cause shit by telling Roberto that Justin went to her house. Why would Justin tell the other guys? That’s a stupid move on her part.

9:42 – These guys are just jealous they weren’t clever enough to think to go to Ali’s house to see her. I’m somewhat surprised that Justin actually has some real human emotion. He’s a little more layered than I initially thought.

9:48 – “If she picks four-eyes, I’m done.” Mama Tewks on Frank.

9:50 – I would love to tell you all what Mama Tewks said when Frank and the Weatherman got a rose, but if I clean it up, its not really a sentence.

9:55 – That footage of Kasey singing will haunt my dreams.

What did you think of tonight’s episode? Post thoughts to comments.

Talkin' with Tewks Live: Fractured Podcast

(BOD - Jennifer Lopez)

It's a recurring theme on this blog, but let me mention it again: I hate technology. CSzem and I recorded a great Blue Jays-related podcast this morning and when I went to listen to it back, CSzem's audio was nowhere to be found.

I could hear him perfectly throughout the recording, but it apparently disappeared into cyberspace immediately after we finished talking. It's a real shame too because this might have been the first time when he's actually made worthwhile contributions to this space.

I can't even contact CSzem to try to record our thoughts because there's a very real possibility that Baby CSzem will be entering the world at some point today. If that's the case, best of luck to the Family Szem.

In an effort to give you your first Tewks fix of the week, I managed to cobble together bits of my audio into a stream of consciousness rant about the 2010 Toronto Blue Jays.

Talkin' with Tewks Live - The Jays (One Man's Opinion)

Enjoy.