Talkin' with Tewks: Idol WBC Chatter

(Do you see what I did with that title? Consider yourself punned. I am what the literary community refers to as a cunning linguist; not to be confused with someone who is proficient at—well, nevermind.)

The goal of this article is two-fold:

1. To handicap the eighth season of American Idol. The remaining four members of the top 13 (TWIST!!!!!) were chosen in a wildcard episode Thursday night. Here’s how a typical viewing of AI takes place in the Tewks household: Papa Tewks, likening himself as a manlier version of Simon Cowell (complete with plunging neckline), makes scathing criticisms of each contestant; I enjoy calling inanimate objects in the living room “Dog” and practicing my Ebonics; Mama Tewks, glassy-eyed from her nightly martini, drops in periodically to provide fashion commentary and make fun of the blind kid (I’m just kidding; she drinks wine).

B. To handicap (a double dose of retardation!!) the second annual World Baseball Classic. Because this website is allegedly a sports blog, I figured I should provide my fortuitous insight into the most famous sporting event to ever take place during the month of March.
In order to separate myself from other sports blogs, I wanted to preview each country in iambic pentameter. Then I realized that I don’t know what iambic pentameter is, so 50 words or less on each pool should suffice.

Pool A – Tokyo

How can both China and Chinese Taipei have a team? Why does China get two teams, but one with a funny name? That’s like having a Team Canada and Team Canada Beaver Tail (provided Taipei is Chinese for delicious pastry topped with cinnamon).

Pool B – Mexico City

South Africa? I don’t know how good these guys will be with Ernie Els and Retief Goosen as their 3-4 hitters. Obviously, Cuba will run away with this pool, but it’s more fun to picture how many Cuban players will defect once they reach the second round in San Diego.

Pool C - Toronto

We kicked your soft, lily-white, multimillionaire pansy asses three years in Arizona and we will do it again. Italy? Please. This isn’t the World Cup. Venezuela? They might have a chance if they stopped kidnapping player’s families and holding them for ransom.

Pool D – San Juan

Much like Cuba, the Dominican Republic will dominate this pool, so let’s meet the pretenders. The Kingdom of Netherlands? Well la-dee-da, you’re still going 0-2. Panama: they can build a canal but can they hit with runners in scoring position? Puerto Rico: The US doesn’t care and neither do I.

“Idol” Thoughts (I did it again!!)

I write this American Idol breakdown with a heavy heart. Usually, I develop an unhealthy infatuation on a token hot female contestant (see McPhee, Katharine and Underwood, Carrie); this year I had pinned my hopes on Casey Carlson and/or Kendall Beard cracking the top 13.

Unfortunately, due to the fact that they both suck, neither hottie is moving on in the quest to become America’s next pop “star” (also, neither Casey nor Kendall accepted my Facebook friend request. Sluts).

Therefore, I cannot in good conscience give two shits about the rest of the season. The rest of this article will consist of my brief (maximum of six words) thoughts about the remaining 13 contestants.

Danny Gokey – Wife is dead. Yeah, we know.

Alexis Grace – Teenage Pregnancy. Use condom next time.

Michael Sarver – Blue collar Joe. Has ugly wife.

Adam Lambert – You are gay. Vote Prop 8.

Kris Allen – I don’t know who you are.

Allison Iraheta – Sang Heart’s Alone. Gave me boner.

Jorge Nunez – Cut my grass if you lose?

Scott MacIntyre – Blind; not distracted by Kendall’s hotness.

Lil Rounds – Has talent, but dumbest name ever.

Anoop Desai – Nerdy looking, but Slumdog can sing.

Matt Giraud – Piano man has cool half beard.

Jasmine Murray – Only 17, but my Cocoa Princess.

Megan Joy Corkrey – Great tats. That’s not a typo.

Tewks is a frequent contributor to Gretzpo’s Sports Blog.

25 Years: A Retrospective

I have no explanation for my hiatus from contributing to this blog: before I would write on this blog when I was either dating a girl or when I was having semi-regular sex. But I don't see that happening until at least the next Olympics... the next summer Olympics.

On a happier note, Gretzpo is celebrating a birthday this weekend. So what have been some of the highlights thus far?

After my best friend was killed in a tragic smelting accident I decided to follow my dream and try out for the Notre Dame Fighting Irish football team. I learned life lessons and got my education, but after not being able to crack the roster for four years I quit the team. However, at the insistence of my black mentor, I rejoined the team for the final day of practice, and after a tear jerking display of sacrifice by my teammates, got to run out of the tunnel and play in a game.

After college I logged two jobs: by day I was a collector for a loan shark and by night I was a boxer. Then, to celebrate the American bicentennial I was given the opportunity of a lifetime: a chance to fight the heavyweight championship of the world, Apollo Creed. On the eve of the fight I walked around all night and came to the conclusion that I couldn't win. All I could do was go the distance - no one had ever gone the distance with Creed. In the end, although I didn't win the title, I found true love and self-respect. It was okay though... because I would later win the title.

After my reign as heavyweight champion I retired to Iowa and started farming corn. One day while in the fields I heard a voice tell me, "if you build it, they will come." Because of our rocky relationship growing up, I interpreted this as my opportunity to build a baseball field for one last opportunity to play catch with my father. Which is exactly what happened. In hindsight, I should have built some sort of brothel, as I was married to an extremely unattractive redhead at the time ... with a dick brother who nearly killed my daughter... but I digress...

Having healed all familial wounds and mastered sports at both the collegiate and professional levels, I finally had a chance to do what I always wanted: retreat into the Burmese jungle and become a snake catcher. My reclusion was short lived, though, as I was forced into helping a group of travelling missionaries through the use of extreme and graphic violence. I killed over 300 men by myself and ripped out a guy's throat: it was quite the afternoon.

By now even our most slow-witted readers have determined that I am attempting to pass off several plot lines from classic movies as my life... here are three observations that, sadly, pertain to my life after 25 years:

1) I think I may be getting worse at sex. When I was younger and finished early I thought it was just my inexperience ... I was quick: like Michael Johnson running the 4oo metres. So how is it my sexual stamina now is better compared to Usain Bolt? Isn't that the opposite supposed to happen? Shouldn't I be like a Kenyan marathon runner by now?

2) I'm getting better and better looking with each passing year. I owe it all to Crossfit and Starting Strength.

3) Good friends are hard to come by. I was once in a situation where I had the chance to take a girl back to my room while I was on vacation. However, the buddy I was vacationing with also had the opportunity to take back a woman to the room. A good friend would have let his undersexed buddy have the room. Instead, we put the room to a game of chance in which I was defeated. I'm still angry about it to this day.

I think it may be time to revoke Tewks' writing privileges.