(BOD - Jwoww's Breasts)
Surprising news rippled throughout the sports world yesterday when it was learned that Roger Clemens, one of the greatest power pitchers in Major League history, an alleged proponent of performance-enhancing drugs and a predilection for sleeping with fifteen year old country music stars, was indicted on charges of perjury by a federal grand jury.
I think everyone, including myself, was expecting this governmental axe to fall on Barry Bonds, who has his own perjury trial beginning in March. The news that the Rocket will appear in court first took everyone by surprise.
Let’s recap the case against Clemens:
He had an embarrassing display in front of Congress in 2008 when they questioned him about his alleged steroid and HGH use. He made up words (‘misremembered’), threw everyone he could under the bus (including his wife; when a Congressman asked about a shipment of HGH being delivered to his house, Clemens said it was for his wife to get ready for her Sports Illustrated swimsuit shoot), and tried to get through the meeting with the indignation and arrogance he did on the mound for over 20 years.
We also learned some disturbing things from his former friend and trainer, Brian McNamee. Apparently, McNamee injected the Rocket in the ass (with a needle, not his . . . nevermind) multiple times throughout their professional relationship. Not only that, but McNamee testified that he kept syringes and other used paraphernalia with Clemens’ DNA (I hope just blood) all over it. That is incredibly creepy and more than a little telling of McNamee’s motives. Jesus, Roger, with friends like that, who needs enemies?
Clemens’ frost-tipped head should be shaking in fear right now. There is no legal force in North America that has the resources and dogged investigative prowess of the US government. Also, there is no way they would ever risk embarrassment by losing a case. Thus, the fact they’ve brought these charges against the aging Rocket tells me that a victory for the Feds is a slam dunk.
To think, all of this could have been avoided if Clemens would have just taken the route of Andy Pettitte and Jason Giambi and just admitted his indiscretions when the rumours first came out. Those guys continue to play, with clear a conscious, and fans still cheer their every move.
The most terrifying thing about this saga for me is that one of this blog’s one time guest columnists, Dwight from Scranton, may prove to be the Nostradamus of our time. He wrote this article in March 2008. How eerie is it that he may be one hundred percent correct in a few short months.
What is this world coming to?
(BOD - Charisma Carpenter. Thanks to SSzem for bringing the babes back for your enjoyment)
I realize that I am being a hypocrite with today’s column; I’ve long blasted the incessant coverage of the sport of hockey by the Canadian media at the expense of better sports like baseball, and here I am writing about the NHL in the middle of August.
In my defence, what else was I supposed to write about today? Brett Favre’s return? I don’t think so. I’ve written way too many words about that egomaniac and he doesn’t deserve any more attention until the NFL season actually starts.
Members of hockey’s brain trust have invaded Toronto, the Maple Leafs training facility to be exact, for two days to discuss changes to the game of hockey to make it better. Primarily, the various initiatives being suggested and tried out at the summit all attempt to improve the game’s offence. It’s a goaltender’s worst nightmare.
I figured I would take a look at all of the ideas being suggested and then divulge my very educated opinion on which potential rule changes would make sense in today’s NHL.
I’m not a fan of the hybrid icing rule, which is a combination of the regular icing rule and no-touch icing. The regular icing rule needs to be eliminated as it’s too dangerous for players who are so big and fast to be barrelling towards the endboards in a frantic race to the puck. The hybrid rule gives the lineman the discretion to assume who will touch the puck first. I think it’s a bad idea and will cause way too many arguments. Just make it no touch icing and be done with it.
The following suggestions are retarded and don’t need my reasoning why: red mesh on the nets instead of white, increase the goaltender crease, faceoff dots in front of the goal, and a faceoff variation where the puck is placed on the dot and players battle for the puck on the whistle.
I like the idea of 3 on 3 overtime. However, 2 on 2 is a little ridiculous. Wider blue lines to increase the size of the offensive zone might be the best idea suggested and it won’t drastically change the complexion of the ice surface. The faceoff dots in front of the goal just creeped me out and the surface no longer resembled a hockey rink to me. All I could think about, while I was mesmerized by the giant circle and dot in front of the goal, was the chick in Total Recall with three boobs.
I have to take umbrage with Joe Nieuwendyk and his comments about shrinking the depth of the net by four inches. The point of that move is to supposedly create more offence because it gives players more room behind the net and allows them to move quicker post to post. Nieuwendyk said, “Four inches doesn’t seem like a lot, but I thought it created a goal this morning.”
Now, hold on, Joe. Four inches is plenty. Huge actually. A completely normal size. And to have you say it’s not enough may hurt some people’s feelings. Not me, of course. Maybe CSzem, probably Gretzpo. Four inches is more than big enough if used properly.
Wait, what was I talking about again?
(For some reason, blogger.com will no longer let me post my BOD from pics on the web. If anyone knows how to circumvent this, please let me know)
There was no way in hell I was going to let a Sylvester Stallone-powered vehicle be released in theatres without me being there, positively giddy with excitement, on opening weekend. Gretzpo and I, along with two of our friends, went to a Friday night showing hoping to see blood splatter in testosterone-fuelled mayhem and we were not disappointed.
Luckily, one of the guys we were with is an actual tough guy; he’s currently serving in the military and is the baddest dude I know. This came in handy after the movie as every person I saw was a prospective target for a knife to the throat courtesy of Tewks and I kept picturing myself going one on five versus a group of goons. Thus, if my heightened state of manliness actually got me into a donnybrook then at least I’d have my own personal heavy to back me up.
The greatness of an action movie is set by the tone of the first kill. Dolph Lundgren got the honours as the trigger-happy, loose cannon of the group, Gunner. One shot from his rifle managed to saw a pirate leader in half; his lower body remained stationary while his upper body smashed against the wall of an oil tanker. It was awesome.
The scene that everyone was excited for going in completely lived up to the hype. It was like a summit of manliness with Stallone, Bruce Willis, and the Governator himself all sharing the screen at the same time. I was legitimately concerned that the scant, few women in the audience would become pregnant by immaculate conception due to the testosterone pouring off the screen during that scene.
Stallone managed to get a great crack in at Arnie’s presidential aspirations, but I have to say that no one commands the screen quite like Arnold Schwarzenegger. The guy truly is larger than life. He only had a handful of lines during his lone scene, but his presence is what I remember most about that five minutes.
Willis probably unleashed the best line of the movie when he remarked, after listening to Arnie and Sly backhand compliment each other, “Are you guys finished sucking each other’s dicks?” Pure magic.
Jason Statham was fantastic as well and showed he can hang with the action heavyweights. I’ve never actually seen one of the movies before (Sorry, but Crank doesn’t do it for me. Although, I may try the premise of the movie on an unsuspecting lady one time: “Hey, if you don’t have sex with me right now in broad daylight, my heart is going to stop . . . . Where are you going?”), but he has a great mix of humour, charisma and toughness.
In the movie, his skanky girlfriend cheated on him with some douchebag. Then Statham goes to see her a few weeks later and her face is beat up at the hands of her new guy. Statham, ex-girlfriend in tow, calmly goes to find the idiot playing basketball with loser friends and kicks the living shit out of all of them. Unfortunately, he then departs with his ex on his motorcycle. I think he should have let her walk home from the basketball court.
My only problems with the movie were with the supporting cast. Mickey Rourke and Terry Crews were vastly underutilized; Rourke is one of the greatest actors I have ever seen and Crews provided excellent moments of levity during the movie.
(Aside: I don’t know if it was a conscious decision to let Crews’ character have the biggest gun on the team, but I found it hilarious that the lone black guy on the Expendables had the biggest gun. I hope Stallone did it on purpose)
Randy Couture and Steve Austin should have never made it past the screen test. Couture’s performance was excruciating to watch and I could almost see his eyes darting to cue cards off screen while he said his lines. Austin didn’t say much, which helped his performance, but the one time he upbraided Stallone made me feel like I was watching Stone Cold torment poor Shane McMahon in 1999.
Nevertheless, the film was fantastic entertainment and I hope the rumours of a sequel are true.
Verdict: 4.5 Mercenaries overthrowing a South American Dictator out of 5
(BOD - Charlize Theron)
After CSzem’s glowing review of the premiere episode of Bachelor Pad, and my own PVR viewing, I felt compelled to do my own recap. I mean this show has everything: good looking people living in a house together, where all they do is hook up, fight, and try to win money, all without the gay pretence of trying to find true love.
It truly might be the greatest show to have ever graced the medium. Plus, it seems like Craig M. and I are kindred spirits, so it would be a disservice to you, my dear readers, if I didn’t recap this trash each and every week.
8:04 – I love how Elizabeth thinks that by blackmailing Kovacs, she’ll force him into a relationship, and then he’ll subsequently fall in love with her. I also love Kovac’s reaction: “The smartest thing for me in this game is to be in a relationship.” He’s using her for the game and she’s too busy patting herself on the back to notice. This is going to end terribly for the malevolent cock tease.
8:10 – I don’t know who this Melissa the co-host is, but she’s a stone cold fox.
8:11 – Rocky Balboa wouldn’t like this challenge: “Hey guys, this ain’t no pie eating contest.”
8:12 – What’s the over/under on how many instances of sexual innuendo I can make from this challenge? 47?
8:13 – “I don’t have a gall bladder, so I can’t eat pie.” Are you shitting me? Is that even a real side effect?
8:13 – “It’s up your nose, in your hair, on your neck.” That’s what she said.
8:14 – Jessie’s breasts are really showing me something. They should win immunity.
8:15 – I am oddly turned on by this.
8:16 – “You have to swallow.” Nothing needs to be said here.
8:21 – “Get in there!!” Yes ma’am.
8:22 – Apparently, Craig’s hair is actually a “multi-purpose tool.” He’s a genius. I love the guy more and more. He may use the pie juice as a new hair product.
8:24 – I will bet fifty dollars that this is the first time the Weatherman has ever been facedown in “pie” before.
8:25 – “He’s good at eating pie.” The shit-eating grin on Dave’s face when he said that was fantastic.
8:31 – Entrusting the Weatherman to coerce chicks to follow the plan might be the worst idea in the history of the world.
8:34 – The great thing about the Weatherman having a tiny johnson is that the inevitable erection that springs forth from his touching a human female will be easily concealed.
8:37 – They have named a segment of the roommates the Outsiders? Is this WCW in 1997? Where are Kevin Nash and Scott Hall?
8:45 – The Weatherman has zero game. This is painful to watch.
8:47 – And Gwen agrees with the above assertion. Of course she does. The Weatherman has zero self-awareness.
8:52 – Craig M and the Weatherman joining forces are like Magneto and Professor Xavier shooting pool together on a Friday night. I’m not even sure why I understand that analogy.
9:01 – “Do you want me to do you first?” Absolutely. And then you can paint my hand. Hey-oooooo!!!!!
9:05 – I thought Elizabeth didn’t kiss guys until she was engaged or something? So, she’s a whore now because she has blond hair? I’m confused.
9:06 – Is she blowing Kovacs in the shower? I bet Jake is kicking himself now.
9:08 – Wes is so ridiculously smooth. The Weatherman should be taking notes. He just ran Gia’s show there.
9:14 – Oh my God, Gia is such a moron. She just completely blew the game. I hope her boyfriend breaks up with her.
9:16 – Jessie putting the moves on Dave in the hot tub. Wait, so she actually said she’s going to fool around with him to move forward in the game? And the point of the game is to win money. Thus, I’m fairly certain this constitutes prostitution.
9:22 – The male Jesse is a smart dude. He recognizes that Natalie is a skank and is now acting apprehensive around her. Oh, you’re upset, Natalie? Well maybe stop acting like a dirty tramp that bangs every guy who has ever been on one of these shows.
9:27 – Haha Tenley just indirectly called Elizabeth a whore. The look on Elizabeth’s face was priceless. Did she not notice the camera in the bathroom with her and Kovacs earlier?
9:33 – The most surprising thing about this episode for me is the fact Elizabeth correctly used the word ‘behoove’ in a sentence.
9:39 – I could really do without the scheming and manipulating of who is being voted off. I feel like I’m watching a magic show. It’s all misdirection created by the producers. Let’s cut these episodes down to ninety minutes.
9:47 – Is Melissa not allowed to speak at these rose ceremonies? Harrison really keeps her in her place.
9:49 – Kovacs can barely conceal his contempt for Elizabeth and she has no idea. That makes me smile.
9:50 – Jesus, the Canadian contingent got hammered on this episode.
9:51 – Let’s all have a moment of silence for Craig M’s hair and Jessie’s breasts.
9:53 – What? Jessie actually thinks she has a chance with Dave? Please believe me when I say that Canadian women are not all that stupid.
What did you think? Post thoughts to comments.
(BOD - Jenna Fischer)
A wild finish to the PGA championship captured the majority of the discussion on this week's podcast. However, we also had time to touch on the following:
- Dustin Johnson and his ability to close the deal
- the arcane rules of golf
- Bubba Watson
- CSzem's love for Martin Kaymer
- Tiger Woods and Roger Federer: the end of an era
- My homerun prowess
- shafts, strokes, and holes
- CSzem's running ability
Talkin' with Tewks Live: PGA Championship Review
Enjoy.
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