Say It Ain't So, Joe!

Jumping Joe Crawford has to be stopped. He is endangering the lives of married and co-habitating women across the state. In his efforts to shoot himself into and out of shooting slumps, he is causing domestic disputes--enabling the wife beaters, if you will, by enraging them due to his prolific Grade D shooting. He is a menace to the Commonwealth's society. Unit #899, arrest that jumpshot felon.

Brandon and I were at the game last night. He had bet his buddy Tony V. , a Miami of Ohio alumnus, the Cats would win with the spread of 13 1/2. With around two minutes left in the game and the Wildcats up by 7 with the ball, I told Brandon his bet was probably a bust because no one in their right mind would come down the floor and pull up without running some of the clock off. Wrong. One interior pass, one kick-out-to-the-perimeter, and 8 seconds later, Mr. Detroit was jacking one up, a clanger, no less. Off subject, but do you remember how the mind-shattering clang produced from a brick would echo through the old gym at Marie Roberts Elementary?

I just came up with a joke to go along with this theme. A Kentucky fan goes to see his doctor about his recent hair loss. The doctor asked him when he first noticed his hairloss. The Kentucky fan said it was a couple of weeks ago around the first of November. After a few questions concerning his lifestyle, the doctor leaves the room and then returns a couple of minutes later with a prescription. The Kentucky fan thanks the doctor and walks out of the office. Once he got in his car, he read the prescription.

"STOP WATCHING UK PLAY!!!"

Because watching Kentucky makes you pull your hair out. Hello? Is anyone out there? Is this microphone on? I know. It needs work. You can make it your own, if you wish. Just insert team of choice.

Another note of interest from the game last night. Brandon's aforementioned buddy, Tony V, went to the game with us last night to watch his undergrad alma mater play. He got to sit right behind the Red Hawks' bench. As the game goes to halftime, Tubby and the Wildcats are walking by the visitor's bench. Tony yells at Orlando and the following conversation ensues.

Tony V: "Hey, Tubby! You can't recruit!"
Orlando "Tubby" Smith: "What did you say?!?!"
Tony V: "You can't recruit!"
OTS (to Assistant Coach Reggie Hanson): "Get him out of here!"
OTS (to Head Assistant Coach David Hobbs): "He had better shut the hell up!"

Thankfully, or not, he didn't get thrown out of the game. So, he got to watch his team get beat or beat themselves the second half. He claims there was one pivotal play when Perry Stevenson pinned a ball on the backboard(one of his seven blocks in the game), which should have been called goal tending. Nice try, but no. Yes, I will confirm your suspicions, he is a Duke fan.

I hope you do realize Turkey Day is in T minus 6 days. And even better news, in T minus 9 days I will be on a boat in the middle of the Carribbean. Soaking up some rays and sipping on Yellow Birds. And feeling no pain....

See you Wednesday evening on the Creek.

Are You Kidding Me? Seriously?

"Steppin' out, steppin' high. Step on back, check my stride.
I'm ready for anything come Saturday night.
Got my two-tones on, the dance floor's their home.
I'm just a honky cat honkin' on down to the honky tonk."

-"Flat, Natural Born, Good Timin' Man" Gary Stewart


I apologize for not being more diligent in the creation of new posts. There really just hasn’t been that much exciting stuff going on. That is not exactly true. I mowed my grass this past Monday afternoon for, really, what will be the last mow of the season. The grass is looking good. I need to get some winterizer on the turf sometime soon. Oh well, it will happen when it happens.

Halloween came and went with a whiz, splash, and a bang. The kids in my neighborhood are 67% turds. Only four kids the entire night said thank you without the prompting of their parents. Two punks, who were probably too old to be Trick-or-Treating, told me they were going to toilet paper people’s homes if they weren’t given the appropriate amount of candy.

Punk 1: “Do you have enough toilet paper?”
Me: “Yes, I have all I need. Thank you.”
Punk 2: “’Cause we’re gonna TP everybody’s house that don’t give us enough candy!”
Me: "You had better be able to run fast."
Punk2: “Oh, yeah. We can.”

I must have given them an ample amount of candy because despite my chagrin of a TP’d house, Housey was clear. I was worried I might have to do some running. The last thing I wanted to do was chase the derelicts around Danby Corners.

My buddy Glenn brought his family over to Trick-or-Treat in our neighborhood. While they were hoofing it around the block, Glenn and I chilled on my front porch drinking a few cold and frosties and handing out candy to the kids. Around 8 p.m., his wife and kids came back to the house. His wife asked if she could use the facilities, so I walked her inside and showed her where the downstairs bathroom was. As I was walking back out, I saw Glenn with his head down laughing. I asked him what was so funny. He just pointed over his shoulder. I saw his little boy with his back to us, facing the street, with his pants and drawers down to his ankles watering my front lawn. The garage lights, the front porch lights, and the street light were all on. The front yard was lit up like Christmas. Glenn said he hadn’t taught him about using the side of the house behind the pine tree, yet. Joel, you know where I’m talking about.

Beth missed all this action. She had some virus that had her out of commission for a couple of days. Poor girl. I don’t know if I have ever been that sick. It hurt me just listening to her. She’s about 90% now, so no worries.

BD’s Mongolian Barbecue in Hamburg is some crazy funky good stuff. You pick all your raw meat off the raw bar. Next, you select what vegetables you want stir fried with you meat. Lastly, you select the sauce you want in your stir-fry. You take this to a bar in front of a big, round grill. Guys with swords grill it for you. They will ask you if it is your first time there. If so, you must bang the gong. Not your first time? Well, bang the gong. Don’t want to bang the gong? Well, bang the gong. The bottom line is that like it or not, you will bang the gong or you will bang the gong. Go there.

Last night, I went to Outback to watch the UofL/WVU game. Never in my life have I ever been heckled watching a sporting event as what I did last night rooting for WVU. The waiters were even ripping on me. What was strange is that I had my mouth shut the entire time. I had said nothing to no one. I was minding my own and the onslaught started after Slaton’s second fumble. I was really confused as I looked around to make sure it was I they were addressing. Sure enough, I was their lone target. I was getting mad, not because WVU was losing, but the fact they were talking trash to me. I hadn’t talked trash to anyone. Brandon, the squirrel of a friend, said I needed thicker skin. Sam said, “No, dude, they are taunting you.” Still, I kept my mouth shut and just shook my head as the jackass continued to run his mouth. I bet he wasn’t even a UofL fan, just a dillhole. That is why I would rather just watch the game at home. But, it is okay. I remembered exactly what the putz looks like. Joel and Jess, we might have to roll up to Outback Saturday night, you in?

My co-worker told me that there have been multitudes of UofL fans coming out of the woodworks lately. Three words: BANDWAGON. It really is sad.

More sad than the bandwagon fans is Brandon’s buddy Tony, who bet the under on that game. The over/under was at 56 ½ . Two teams with the nation’s highest ranked offenses and mediocre to poor defenses play each other and you take the under? And what exactly do you know about sports?

Even sadder than that is the fact that if either one of these teams were to play OSU (and I hate OSU), they would be beaten…soundly. Defense. Defense. Defense. But, if UofL does play OSU in a BCS game, I wish them the best.

This weekend it is O-N. This weekend happens to be one of my most favorite weekends in the exciting world of thoroughbred racing. The Breeder’s Cup Championships are this Saturday at Churchill Downs. ESPN has devoted an entire day’s coverage (Noon to 7 p.m.) to the event. The best horses in the world will be competing in an 8-race package that horseplayers dream about. Horse Olympics-gotta love it. There should be some great prices that will come along with the results. Hopefully, I will have one of those magical white whales in my possession. Cash money. Bernardini, what? Household name, that’s what.

Joel, Alex, Jess, get on down. I await your arrival. Out.

Silver buddies! Silver Buddies!