31 March 2011

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I See You Big Fella...




Well baseball season has officially gotten underway for the 2011 season, and I'm fucking smitten! Other than the fact that the Tigers lost and Alex Avila is the worst catcher to carry the old English D; I'm pumped for this years Tiger season. And we all know that with the Tigers comes the dynamic duo of fellow SHS Alum Mario Impemba, and the lovable Rod Allen. This Shit Rod Allen says is priceless. There's really nothing else like it. I wish when they let him on national broadcasts he'd break out of his shell a little bit but thats not a decision I make.

Well, if you're at all familiar with hot Rod and the Tigers of the last decade or so, then you are aware of a certain drinking game that accompanies a tigers FSD broadcast. That's right; the Rod Allen Drinking Game. This has been a goal of mine for years now, and I believe we now have the resources and man-power to pull off one like no other. I propose a Rod Allen Drinking game party at "The Future" on May 14th. It's a 4:05 game and I anticipate all variables to work in favor of a crisp day for drinking.

So if you think you're man enough to play by the rules and blackout by the 3rd inning, then come join us. Comments and concerns posted here will be reviewed and probably disregarded no matter how valid a point you may have. And remember, if the game ever airs the video posted above, thats 25 drinks to the dome! So bring your A-game and don't try to sneak a piece of cheese by us now.

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Happy Birthday Mr. Hockey!




The Red Wing great and NHL Hall of Famer, Gordie Howe, turns 83 years young today. My one personal experience with Gordo is when I was about 11. I was up in Traverse City where Gordie resides and owns a restaurant. I was at the restaurant, "Gordie Howe's Tavern and Eatery" with my parents, and in walks Mr. Hockey.  I distinctly remember the aura this guy gave off when he walked in the door. Conversation stopped; Mouthes agape. He sat down at his regular table that was the only one open in a packed joint, with a half hour wait. I remember when you put you elbows on the table they would throw you in the penalty box and I always used to do it because I was a selfish brat and thought it was cute. I remember Gordie coming up to the box and he said, "I'm going to teach this youngster a lesson! You don't put your elbows on the table. This is how you use your elbows!" He proceeded to elbow me in the face harder than you're probably supposed to elbow an 11 year old, but no one cared. The man was and still is a fucking superstar. I shook his hand and he signed my family and I an autograph or two. He went right back to his scotch and the company of his wife. I'll never forget that day.

Check out the good ol' days

 

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Bollyhood- The Epic Voyage of An International Man of Mystery: Volume 2





I don't think either of us has the time change down yet. I have the most random conversations with the Intl Man of Mystery. This is what I wake up to, hungover, on a Sunday morning. He could probably get in some sort of trouble with this so from here on out he will be known as IMM (International Man of Mystery). Enjoy this exchange about the sexy parties.


11:01am EST

MdotNetz: hey
IMM: whats up
MdotNetz: shit u?
IMM: hanging out with some hookers
MdotNetz: hookers eh?
IMM: yeah. no joke. I don't plan on indulging though
MdotNetz: what are you doing talking to me on facebook while theres strippers present?
                  GO FUCK ONE
IMM: haha hookers are different than strippers
          these girls are hookers
MdotNetz: I understand that
                  insert yourself asap and tell me the story immediately after
                  when else would you ever pay for sex?
IMM: thats a good point
MdotNetz: r they hot?
IMM: yeah, they're alright
          the eastern europeans are hot.
          i would really consider dabbling in one of those
MdotzNetz: are you on fb chat on ur phone?
IMM: no, I'm not
          lot of chinese girls          
          I'll skype you into the next hooker party
MdotNetz: hahah this is so random 
                  u better!
                  is anyone fucking them?>
IMM: Haha whenever the guys come in from afghanisatn and iraq, they all get hookers
          not at the moment.
          This is on the reg bro. I'm so used to it now.
MdotNetz: you gotta make it happen
IMM: just drinking a beer, and working, with hookers around
MdotNetz: this is so awesome
IMM: haha
          alright, i'm going to go make a steak
          some hooker made us some dumplings
          they were freaking awesome, but i'm still hungry
MdotNetz: ur unreal. be easy my friend 
IMM: talk to you soon bro


Dumplings!? Fucking dumplings! What kind of Dream World fuckin' Dyrdek Fantasy Factory do you live in? The only thing better than dumplings are free, hooker dumplings. Preferably after she fellates you. Baby steps with this one. Too bad he has an above average sense of self respect or this story could have been legen ... wait for it ... dary!

29 March 2011

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Transition from MTV to WWE




I really wanted to get this one off my chest while the wrestling topic was hot. You should all know by now I have a dream of wrestling in the WWE. And I am just green with jealous rage right now knowing that C-Bus got to see the Rock at Raw last night and I wasn't so fortunate when they came to the D.
Well apparently the quickest road to Wrestlemania is to spend a few solid months getting hammered on an MTV series. Yeah, it's pretty standard to have celebrities and/or athletes attend and participate in big wrestling events. And I can't blame Vince for going with Snooki. Jersey Shore is a cash cow and she's probably the most recognizable celeb not named Charlie Sheen at the moment.

But this bitch is bout to get her little ass eaten up. Steak Sauce. Snooks can hardly see over the ropes. This has potential to be one of the worst celeb matches in WWE history; and possibly one of the worst story lines since Mae Young got pregnant by Mark Henry and she gave birth to a hand.

But it gets even better. Headlining Wrestlemania is The Miz, and his ever-so-genuine catchphrase "I'm Awesome." Does anyone else know that 8 years ago this kid was some obnoxious shit on The Real World.

Obviously he packed on some pounds (roids) and took a few rasslin' lessons, but that doesn't make his journey any more legit. He was on the last season of Tough Enough in 2004 and I distincly remember him begging the fans to choose him as the winner. Like the dude was almost crying. And now he's champion?!? I wish the road to the show was that easy. Just get on a reality show and blackout til people recognize you for it. If I could have an MTV camera follow me and some bros around CMU on Martin Luther King weekend, we'd be the next NWO by now. It's just not in the cards.

All-in-all, I think we're shaping up for an above average Wrestlemania this year. Undertaker, HHH, HBK, Stone Cold and The Rock should bring back that little extra "umph" that's been missing from this biz for quite some time now. In the meantime I'll be getting teenagers pregnant, and when the cameras arrive, its all about "The Irish Creamer" Steve Addington.



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Turning into a Wrestling Blog



Oh Well, To answer to your post below, Michael Cole is in a glass box because a few weeks ago he was brutally assaulted by stone cold, who then drank 50 beers and spilled 95% of each one. He got the shit stunned out of him, and felt unsafe at work so they ERECTED a glass cage for him to sit in.
NOW: To my points, Whats up with finishing moves? The rock dropped a peoples elbow last night and it didn't even phase the Miz, shouldn't it have left him incapacitated for a few minutes? He just shot right up and got thrown out of the ring. Back in my day, that move would have stopped the heart and left everyone in awe. I guess his elbow must have gotten dull? Then Cena drops the bomb on The Rock and he couldn't move for 15 minutes. WWE needs to get their shit together on finishing moves.


28 March 2011

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Smell it



Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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I FUCKING LOVE HBK



Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry



The Undertaker is about the same age as Moses
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry



Ok one of the announcers is in a glass box, I'm not entirely sure why but my best guess is for his own safety. Where is HBK someone is in need of a little sweet chin music
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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RAW is WAR



The coalition has got you covered for all the ring side action at tonight's MNR. I stopped following this better than a decade ago so if you know what's going on please take to the comments section. Also, just found out the rock is in the house and this is the last raw prior to wrestle mania so I anticipate some real action tonight!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

27 March 2011

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Bracketology Blunder






It's really no fucking wonder why they offer a million ducketts to anyone with a perfect bracket. Shit's fucking impossible unless you're Biff Tannen with the "Grey's Sports Almanac" from 2015. I was sure that I would dominate the field in all my pools this year; and that a Kansas/Ohio State final was all but official. But fuck me running right? I will give $100 to anyone who gives me their bracket that has both VCU and Butler in the Final Four. I mean, of the long list of things I am better than you at; peeing the bed and picking winning March Madness brackets are in the top 5. I am utterly disappointed. Like, who woulda thought VCU would shoot 90% from beyond the arc and roll Kansas like that. Shit's steak sauce stupid. See ya next year, March Madness.

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My Love/Hate Relationship With Rec Sports




With Beer League Softball season upon, us I feel a reconnection with my love for playing recreational sports in the community. Not only can you meet a lot of cool people, have some pops with your crew, but also get  off your lazy ass and do something semi-productive. Now Beer League ball is the best because you can do it at varying levels of intoxication. Buzzed/blackout/hungover, it all just seems to work out. And in life there is no better feeling than knocking in a few runs, making a sweet defensive play, or in other sports score a goal. This, is why I love of the sports that I play.

With that being said, I hate plying the sports as an adult, which were greatly rewarding to me as an adolescent. Lets start with indoor soccer. You cannot compare the level of a workout soccer or basketball can give you to any sport out there period(Let it be known that I am an atrocious basketball player. I'll stick to white people sports, thank you very much). The health benefits of the cardio soccer gives me is counteracted by the anxiety I get while I play. Every time I'm on the field there is the legit potential that I could end up in jail. Take this week for example. We are playing a team of off the boat foreigners(if you're not from the area, this is a pretty common occurrence) They don't speak a word of English the entire game. We get in a little scuffle. They must be able to understand English enough that, "Fuck you pussy" gets a rise out of them. I finally hear the little English they know when they retort with, "I'll stab you in the parking lot." They must have practiced that phrase. Their entire bench clears. Now I'm not worried in the slightest about my safety because these kids absolutely are pussies. However, I'll be damned if I let a 17 year old jerk off boater get in my face, over a soccer game of all things, without having him swallow some of his chicklets. I walk away, clearly the better man. Listen, just because you can probably call in and get your cousin to work your shift at the gas station after the game, doesn't mean I have time to sit in jail with your ugly ass. I gotta be at work at 8am.

Moving on to hockey. The ice arena is full of "likes to fight guy" If you're not familiar, check this out.

Long story short, some chach uses his stick like its a pool cue and blasts my friend in the chest with the butt-end. We don't wear shoulder pads because we're raw, so this essentially dropped my boy like a sack of potatoes. It took every fiber of my being not to brutally assault all 135 lbs of cigarette smoke and cocaine residue this kid was packing. By the looks of him, he must have walked from the trailer park down the road, shoved some newspapers in his socks Mighty Ducks style, and laced up his 1993 CCM Tacks he got from Play It Again Sports. The kid obviously has nothing to lose. How can I justify showing up to work with a black eye after scrapping it out with this idiot? Just not in the cards.

Don't get me wrong, I still love playing all sports. I just wish everyone was out there for some exercise, friendly competition, and an adult beverage or two like myself. You're not goin' to the big leagues, guy. Just relax.    

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"Ain't Gonna Pee-Pee My Bed Tonight"




There are very few things more uncomfortable than watching a German-American family folk band, dressed like Amish people, deliver a disturbing performance about NOT peeing your bed.

24 March 2011

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MOVING FINALLY




So about 5 months ago I moved to Chicago, and just subleased some joint temporary so I could stack some paper, and figure out the layout. WOW. So I end up living with two 30 year old pot heads, and a dog thats only purposes in life is to shed, and piss on his own legs. I get used to this, But then I find out that we have these 2 Gay landlords Hale and Ed. Still I don't care... About 2 weeks ago I come home blacked out, can't find my keys and boot down my front door. -Aftermath is its an 80 year old, solid oak veneer custom made door. I pay 700 bones to get this fucker replaced, then they want an additional 300 to stain it. I tell them to eat shit and die, and I will do it myself. These fucking homeboy landlords have wanted me to re-stain this door 4 times, because "its not cherry enough" I am about to slam a 4 pack of Buck Range Lights and go all hate crime in this bitch on a Thursday morning.

23 March 2011

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The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia



If you have not seen this yet, treat yourself. Possibly the best 90 minutes you will spend all week, FYI, it's available on Netflix online.

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WIN TIGERS OPENING DAY TICKETS!!




You, yes YOU, can win Tigers Opening Day tickets. Section 147 Row FFF. Lower Level Pavilion Left Field: Seats 4 - 8. The first person to give us $900 will win 5 tickets. The first to give us $600 will win 3, and the first to give us $400 will win 2. Winners will have the opportunity to meet the "Eat'Em Up Tigers" guy. You know where to find me.

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Gay 80's Song of the Week?




I like what Gibster did last week with gay 80's videos. Just a reminder of how gay the decade we were born in was. If the 38 second mark isn't the gayest/creepiest thing you've ever seen then I don't want to know what is.

22 March 2011

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Fuck the Locker Room!



Granted, this took me a few days to mull over, but my hatred grows stronger by the day. I don't mean to be negative because believe me I give credit when credit is due. That being said, I have never had a worse time, nor could imagine having a worse time, at a bar in my life. If you're not familiar with the Locker Room in downtown Utica, consider yourself blessed. This bar boasts on being a wild time, which I guess it is if you have zero standards and are a low-life, wanna be meat head.

Upon entry into the bar, there is a $4 cover. Now, this bar is the size of my basement. I'm not cheap, but you need to understand that there are about 5 bars in downtown Utica and none of then would have the audacity to charge cover for their establishments. They know what they are, they know what they offer. Not cover worthy. However, it was my boy's birthday. God knows why he chose this bar as one of the few on the agenda for the night, but I digress.  I shelled out the cover price and was immediately cornered by a bouncer saying "You have to buy your first drink here, now!" A little forward, but hey that's what I'm here to do after all, so I oblige. I start my tab.


They give you sticks that are the size of drum sticks, but thicker, and everyone continuously bangs on the walls, tables, seats, and people all night long, every night of the week. That's their thing. Again, I feed into the "madness".  After about 3 minutes banging on shit gets really mundane. Time to get shit-faced. I turn to the bar where I wait a solid 15 minutes for a beer, as there are at minimum 30 people standing on the bar stomping their feet and banging away with their steroid ridden drumsticks. I must note that the wait time is partially my fault. You can only get so close to people standing on a bar without having a panic attack knowing that the swap creature directly in front of you will inevitably fart in your agape mouth. I soon figure out this isn't going to last long. I cherish my beer knowing I won't get another one, without considerable effort, for some time.

Finally, a waitress! Thank God. Now I can get a new beer. She, however, was not interested in selling me anything but the 8 shots she had with her. "Buy some shots," she orders. "Well, what do you have?", I ask politely, although losing my patience. "Jager bombs and Cherry bombs!", she exclaims. Now I'm not sure if that was supposed to get a rise out of me but I say, "nah I'll take another Blue Light." "What? Are you a pussy?", she retorts. "No, I'm just not in high school anymore. I don't drink 'bombs'." "I think you're a pussy!", she says. She shoots me a smile, which, I can see the fecal matter all over her teeth because I'll be damned if that wasn't the dirtiest shit-eating grin I've been given in my life.

Time to go. I give the bar another attempt to square up my tab and get one last beer. After another 15 minutes, I'm finally served. "You only had 3 beers and there's a $10 minimum on the tab," the bartender snidely replies. I see what you're doing here, lady. I recount that I've only had one because this place is a fucking joke and that better be the only thing on my tab.  I order a round of Rumple Minze for the bros. At this point whatever gets me out of here fastest will have to do. While waiting for the shots and my card, some type of show starts. Another bartender, obviously coked out of his gord, slams beer bottles on the floor and lights things on fire. This show severely impedes my departure, and overall level of enjoyment.

The aforementioned bartender is straddling a bachelorette, inexplicably there for her final stand before tying the knot. He feeds her a "Blow Job Shot" while trying to penetrate her tits through both of their articles of clothing. I walk out the doors to the crowd screaming, "She SWALLOWED!"

She may have swallowed, but you, "Locker Room Saloon", just suck.

PS. I apologize for the diatribe. I'm doing this for your own good. STAY AWAY!

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Southern Hospitality





Police in Florida don't fuck around when it comes to alcohol, especially in the Lakeland area. I mean you got Cabrera dome-ing a bottle of scotch driving in reverse, blindfolded. Boom, jail. No questions asked. Any other athlete would have signed a ball or two and been home by breakfast. Not in the Tampa Bay Metro Area. Must be a practically dry county.

Now you got this good Samaritan here. My man is just gettin' tips'd up and mowin' grass(Sounds like every Saturday night for me. Zinga! ...I digress). It's his duty to keep the neighborhood looking tops. Next thing he knows, the boys in blue are pistol whipping the bridge of his nose as if he molested Henry Hill's girlfriend.

 (That scene is by far my favorite from, any movie, ever)

And boy did this guy get lit. Those black eyes are the real deal. I've been punched on the bridge of my nose before. Had me lookin like a raccoon for a week. This guy though, looks like he got a flash light beating. Quite a pay day this guy's gonna get. 

21 March 2011

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Opening Day at Old Tiger Stadium



Okay, so I know everyone is pumped about opening day for the Tigers. It is honestly one of my favorite days of the year. Just chillin outside all day drinking downtown is such a glorious feeling.

But check this shit out.

You may have heard of the Detroit Mower Gang. They go around fixing up Detroit parks for kids and even adults to hang out at. They've been featured on Detroit 187, which is a kick-ass show by the way. They are kicking off the year of playing pick-up baseball at the old Tiger Stadium (which they now call Ernie Harwell Park) every Sunday on April 3rd.

You can hit a dinger where the great Cecil once did.



They are gonna try to fix it up first, play and then eat some hot dogs. If you can make it, make it. I know I will be officially joining the Mower Gang as of April 3rd.

20 March 2011

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Say cheese and Die (58 days later dream update)




So my mom's gypsy dream didn't come true. I made it through St. Patty's day/weekend without any serious injuries, nobody I know got killed in south-central LA. It was a good day. We did, however, have legitimate reason for concern about me well-being. During one of our many photo shoots throughout the night, we were taking panoramic shots of the group. Most of them being worth a thousand words like the one posted above.

Then this one turned out:


Are you kidding me? The camera just so happened to render me, and only me out of this picture!
It was like something straight out of Back to the Future, except no Chuck Berry cover could get me out of this one. So we all banded together with a priority of keeping me alive; and 16 green beers, 4 cigarettes and 2 public urinations later, I was home safe. Joe Cocker said it best: I got by with a little help from my friends.

18 March 2011

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Heads Up Sparky



Minor League Manager in Hospital After Being Hit by Liner

Luis Salazar, a minor league manager in the Atlanta Braves’ system, was awake and able to respond to doctors Wednesday after being hit in the face by Brian McCann’s foul liner while standing in the dugout during an exhibition game in Lake Buena Vista, Fla.

Salazar may have sustained a concussion and might have a facial fracture and damage around his left eye, said Frank Wren, the Braves’ general manager.

Salazar was airlifted to Orlando Regional Medical Center and was to stay overnight. Wren did not have an official hospital report.

“We are just blessed that Luis is alive,” Wren said after St. Louis beat Atlanta, 6-1. “The scans so far have been positive.”

Please explain to me when the meaning of "Head on a Swivel" stopped being relevant? This is obviously an awful tragedy, but I cannot picture this ever happing to me. (famous last words) Stew Scott has been glass eyed, for all the wrong reasons, for seven years, yet the ball field is treated like a grade school play ground. All I'm saying is when I enter a gym or walk on a field, as a competitor or spectator, I bring a modicum of respect for my surroundings. My lesson was learned by getting drilled in the head more than once but less than twice from considerable distance in front of an improbable audience. Perhaps complete embarrassment is more effective than threat of injury. That being said, I would like to share two occasions where such athletic obliviousness brought much misery to others yet much hilarity to myself, and perhaps in the mean time we can all grow as Bro's.

When I was playing traveling league summer ball as a young kid my teammate learned the hard way, that the game of baseball is not for slap dicks. We were taking BP just before a weekend tournament, and this guy was cutting off the balls coming back in field. The biggest bat in our rotation steps up to the plate and coach starts sending in meat balls for his enjoyment. The victim of this story was busy picking dandelions, perhaps his ass, my memory seems a bit foggy on this detail. What isn't foggy is what happens next. The batter hacks a line drive straight back at the mound, where both coach and victim are standing, one hit the deck, the other didn't. The sound of that baseball trying to embed itself into this kids ear canal is as memorable to me as my own voice. Two things happened that day, this kid hemorrhaged from his head for the better part of that afternoon, and he took his last steps on a baseball field.

My next precautionary tale takes place in a gymnasium during "the college years". I was participating in a Sorority dodgeball tournament, most likely benefiting some charity not worth my time. (but I'm a bro of deep conviction, I understand the importance of giving to those not fortunate enough to be me) My team was occupying the bottom two rows of the bleachers, waiting for our next match. Two female spectators were sitting directly next to me in the second row having a chat about a useless non-dodgeball related topic. Again, it blows my mind to think that someone would enter this arena at any level other than Hight Alert, but women are not to be understood. This meat-pile of a bro, in what I can only describe as an attempt to decapitate his weaker opponent, launched a rubber dodgeball across the gym. However, he threw a bit high and his target easily ducked the throw. I know you can see what happens next, the ball is coming straight for the front two rows, all the dudes on the bench saw the ball, followed its trajectory, and made slight head nods to the left and right respectively to evade the path of the ball. The clueless woman sitting directly next to me was in mid high-pitched, oblivious, cackle when the punishing blow rippled across her face. I recall the shrieks of pain and humiliation echoing off the gymnasium walls and the complete and udder joy that penetrated my soul. The kind of joy you can only achieve when you know you've witnessed something truly unique and earth shattering.

I may seem like a bit of a black heart when recalling these tales, but if I do, it's only because I am. However, I am telling you this, in the hopes to avoid future accidents of this nature. If a bit more attention were paid to the fact that balls, pucks, clubs, bats etc. will be swung and thrown and hit by professional athletes in close proximity to your face with little to no barriers in the way of stopping said items, we will all be a little better off. At least a bit more two eyed.




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H.Y.B




YouTube Video

Hell Yeah Brotha!

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It's Friday





This chick really hits the nail on the head. Yesterday was Thursday. Today it is Friday. Everybody's looking forward to the weekend. Partying, partying, fun, fun, fun fun. That's what its all about. I'm glad everyone made it out alive from St. Patty's(more on that to come). So go nuts dude, It's Friday!

17 March 2011

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Turner Broadcasting



It has just come to my attention that when TRUtv is not showing NCAA Tourney games they run a program entitled "Hillbilly Hand Fishing". I guess what I am trying to say is, are we sure the NCAA thought this through? Anyway, when Bucknell pulls off the W, just remember who heard it first from Doug Gottlieb.

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Irish Truck Bomb




Triple everything? Why not. This is America, God dammit!

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Happy St. Patty's Day from the Coalition




Three years ago at this time I would have already had my Jameson/Baileys/Coffee liquid breakfast, excused the pledges from their place in line at PT O'Malleys(where they had been holding our place since 3am), had 4 Irish Car Bombs and a Jameson or 2, and witnessed "Tank" vomit in his hand so the bouncer wouldn't kick him out before he had to leave for his 8am quiz. That was our pre-drink.

Now, I seriously contemplate quitting my job just so I don't have to go be locked in my cube cage like the cubicle monkey I've become. I have too much potential to be getting actual work done. Alcoholics need me out there, corporate America, to add fuel to the fire for late 20-somethings that didn't have it as good as I once did. It brings a tear to my eye to watch someone chew their very first Irish Car Bomb, as it had curdled while I explain what's actually in a Car Bomb. Oh, the innocence.    

Don't get me wrong, I'll be out in some capacity today. However, I won't be vomiting. Upsetting, I know.

Please share your favorite St. Patty's Day memory in the comments section. That way we can all attempt to relive the debauchery of days past.

16 March 2011

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RIP Nate Dogg




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"58 Days it Will be Horrible"




So, for those of you who may or may not know; my Mom is sort of a gypsy. And I wish I was speaking figuratively. But she really is. Like the woman has Tarot cards and is always warning me of places that have bad "juju" and shit. A number of my friends have came to our house, where my mom has burned sage, surrounded the table with salt and read their cards. And the most bizarre part is that she's been pretty spot on. (Once our friend Beans had come by with his girlfriend and she wanted her cards read. The cards told her that she is not where she needs to be and she should re-evaluate her troubling situation. Two weeks later, she dumped him and went back to her ex bf. Which really worked out in everyone's favor because she was such a different level of a bitch that it was unbearable to have her around.)

Now imagine how terrified I get when my mom woke up at 3 AM from a dream where a voice says "58 days it will be horrible!" Guess how long ago that dream was? 56 days ago! So for those of you who cannot do the arithmetic by the time you go onto this sentence; it means this Friday at 3Am it will be Horrible! And if you're still not quite on the same level as everyone else by now; that basically says ST. Patty's night will be Horrible! Are you fucking kidding me?! The night after 90% of the people I know start drinking at 8 in the morning, it will be horrible?! This has me so shook up and nervous for tomorrow it's not even funny. I mean, horrible is a word I use sparingly to describe something. Like if you miss your flight-shitty. If your plane crashes- horrible. You wake up shitting blood- pretty bad. You get decapitated- horrible! You get my drift.

So in fear of my gypsy mom being right with her foreshadowing dream, I'm going to be extra cautious this St. Patty's day. But you better believe your bottom when day 59 comes (and no one has been decapitated) it will be Awesome! SO lets keep each other alive this weekend, eh friend?

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Gilbert Gottfried Got Fired




To be honest I really wanted to make this post just so I could use that title but this stuff is actually pretty funny and shitty at the same time. Gilbert Gottfried was fired yesterday from his Aflac gig for making jokes on his Twitter regarding the tragedy in Japan. Here they are:



Okay, we all know it's a total bummer that shit was broken and people got killed. Really, we do. You see, though, JOKES DON'T DO ANY MORE DAMAGE. There isn't some Japanese woman who's following Gilbert's twitter feed who is going to fall into depression JUST BECAUSE he made these jokes. All it would do is turn on that "I'm offended" switch giving someone the "right" to bitch at him.

With that said, why fire the dude? He's funny and his tweets were funny. There was not one person who read those and decided "Today I'm gonna cancel my Aflac insurance!" Although, I am sure there are some people who thought "That was a dick move Aflac, I'm not down with you anymore." This could also be me being ignorant towards the demographic of super-moral sensitive women who have to insure their minivans and the power they hold.

Either way, Gilbert Gottfried is still awesome.

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One day Ill figure out how to post youtube videos...




I have been rocking some solid gold 80's on youtube, grooveshark, pandora...ect. Anyways whenever I watch the youtube videos, these videos are hilarious and extremely gay. I don't know why they thought it was cool to have 2, or 3 dudes singing into the same microphone. That shit is gay as aids. Anyways.... anyone seen Chris Browns dong pic yet? Jeeeeeezzzzus.

15 March 2011




Call me a homer if you must, but I predict great things for the Spartans once again. I understand this has been a disappointment of a season thus far, but Izzo is a fucking wizard in March, and I dare you to bet against him. Either way, happy March readers, there is no greater 3 weeks than the ones ahead of us.

14 March 2011

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Dev's Dilemma



Tonight I got a phone call from Devin (fellow bro, seafood connoisseur and fighter jet enthusiast) stating a certain predicament he was faced with tonight. Backstory:
Devin gets a package (pictured above) sent to his apartment with the message "Happy Birthday" and addressed to a different person at his address. Now, Devin's birthday is months from now, and he called asking my advice on how he should handle this delicate scenario. As the lightbulb in my head flashed on, I thought: "what better way to help Devin make the right choice than to make it public and leave it up to the people."

Therefore, below is a set of possible scenarios:

A.) Do the right thing and return it to the post office

This would be a noble decision, and admirably so the right thing to do. And as we all know (largely in part thanks to the movie "Dazed and Confused") tampering with the mail is a federal felony offense. He could easily wipe his hands clean of this and submit it to the postal service to correct the error; or even hunt this dude whose name is on the box down via one of the many social channels available to him. But let's be honest; where's the fun in that?

B.) Open it up!

This is where the story can tree branch off into a virtually endless number of scenarios. If you're like Devin and myself, the sight of this unopened box in your living room would rip you apart. I mean, its a pretty good sized box (as shown to scale next to the Charter remote and Xbox controller). If returned, it could pick away at his very being having never known what was sent to his house. So lets say he opens it and...

1.) It's something shitty. Like a book on how to effectively manage your 401K, or a collection of Yanni CDs. Something that serves no benefit to him or our group of friends. So he is obligated to package it back up and then what? Toss it? And when the sender and intended consignee discuss the aforementioned package they come to the conclusion that it was somehow lost in the mail. In which case the postal service will do aboslutely nothing except maybe send a written apology (which has happened to me before, the USPS holds zero accountability and gives even less fucks). Or give it back to the postal office and claim that in the midst of the adrenaline rush derived from receiving the package, he failed to confirm that he indeed was the intended receiver. In which case I imagine the post office saying "oh yeah this shit happens all the time. In fact, many people just throw away shitty items they mistakenly receive in the mail"
Or,

2.) It's something sweet. Here is where my imagination runs wild. What if he opens it and its an iPad 2, or a brick of black tar heroin? This is the shit movies are made of here! Like what if it's some deeply thought out ploy to make Devin pay for his curiosity with his life (much like the movie "Phonebooth" or the far shittier "The Box").

Nevertheless, opening the box has to be the way to go, right? Well, here's where the followers come in.

I have convinced Devin to allow the package to remain untouched for the next 24 hours until the brog (bro blog) readers have determined what he should do with it. I can only hope that the decisions you all make are well-thought ones. All comments will be taken into consideration when Devin ultimately makes the final decision.

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Slam Sukka!






Now THATS what I'm talkin about! I feel like the past few years bullying has gone from standard procedure at schools everywhere to hands across America with mothers crying on Oprah. This little runt had it coming to him, I think he even knew it too. As the great Ice Cube once said "If I get dealt wit....I get dealt wit." Hey son, you just got Dealt Wit! Casey had 60 el bees on this kid at least! He took a couple jabs to the mug like Rocky did in his first bout with Apolo, then BAM! Jackknife powerbomb! Casey handled this little shit like he was a WWF Slam Buddy.


My hat is off to this kid. We've all had that skinny little punk in elementary school that had the worst case of ADD imaginable, treated with a steady diet of Riddelin and special reading tutors. The kid that just wouldn't stay out of trouble, trying to fight with everyone who gave him a rebuttal. And it seemed like he never got what was coming to him because he had some sort of social discrepancy that served as a "get out of jail free" card. You can bet your sweet bro asses (brasses, if you will) that at the first sign of my son being bullied, I show him this video along with old wrestling clips and say "give him a lesson."

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Cindy Crysby Literally Grows a Vagina




PITTSBURGH (AP)—Penguins center Sidney Crosby(notes) returned to the ice on Monday for the first time since missing 29 games with a concussion. But if you’re looking for the Pittsburgh captain’s return date, it’s still anyone’s guess.
“I have no clue,” Crosby said. “I’m not thinking too far ahead as far as a time frame. I just want to get better. This is part of the way to do that. I’m just kind of taking that step and seeing how it goes.”
Crosby, who last played on Jan. 5 in an 8-1 win over the Tampa Bay Lightning, practiced in full gear for about 15 minutes at the Consol Energy Center. It was a light workout. He participated in a skating drill around some cones, and took a few shots on net, as well.

WAAAAAHHHHH! My head still hurts. Waaaahhhh! I can only skate for 15 minutes. 
15 FUCKING minutes? Is this guy serious? I thought he's been on the ice for weeks now. I just figured it wasn't news worthy, which this story definitely isn't. Why would I post such a lackluster story? I needed to point out that I don't think this guy is a pussy just because I'm a Red Wings fan. He has sat out almost 4 months for a concussion. Not even morning skates with the boys. ZERO balls on this guy. Lady Gaga's clit/dick is bigger than Sid's. Like he can't even skate? Fuck you! 
I sorta understand not playing because you could Eric Lindros your career away and all that borderline pussy jazz, but you're not even skating? You just started riding the bike a week ago? Take a seat Sidney, and stay there 'til next October. Wouldn't want you to break a nail.      

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The Negative Effects of Traffic Signs.



I was driving to pick up a Burrazo at one of Metro Detroit’s greatest restaurants, Mexican Village, when an internal conversation I recently had with myself popped back into my head.


You see, like most people, I spend many hours in my car traveling to places I hope will bring me enjoyment.


Whether I am driving to a bar, a bookstore or Ms. Wok’s Happy Ending Massage Parlor I am just trying to make the most of my free time. And if you check my credit card statements you will see I am doing a fine job with the balance of work and play leaning towards the latter as 90% of my destination serve alcohol.


However, just recently I noticed something that has ruined the enjoyment I received from driving.

Why the hell are traffic signs so rude and degrading?

How dumb do traffic sign makers think I must be where I need a STOP sign to help me make a safe right turn onto a main street. I learned all that stuff in Kindergarten where my teacher thought me in a fun and positive way.



So I started thinking: Does the authoritative tone in which traffic signs tell people what to do have any effect on the mind/attitude of society? I made the video below while on my way to pick up dinner to try and give a visual example of what I am talking about in this blog post.



I understand the role traffic signs play in keeping traffic organized and drivers safe but doesn’t seeing such assertive words like STOP, LIMIT, NO TURN, and ONE WAY, every time you are in your car make for a more subservient individual?


True happiness can’t be achieved when you rely on someone, or in this case something, to tell you what to do. I mean the sense of liberation you feel while speeding down a country road where there are no signs telling you what to do proves that traffic signs bring a brother down.


All in all, I just wish the signs I see on a daily basis would bring me as much joy as the OPEN sign hanging outside of Ms. Wok’s Pallor.


13 March 2011

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I love technology



Kip from Napoleon Dynamite said it best, and I can't agree more. I have finally found the means necessary to blog from my phone ( thank you Mike Breezy). Be ready to read a high volume of mindless banter as I plan to use this mostly when I drink. I am most excited for the hilariousness that my autocorrect will bring, while I am least excited for the inevitable dropping of my phone in a bar toilet.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Bollyhood- The Epic Voyage of An International Man of Mystery: Volume 1



I know absolutely zero things about the United Arab Emirates. As I look to diversify my understanding of different cultures(mainly to choose the ones I hate and want nothing to do with. I assure you it's not an effort to make me a better person, believe that), I strive to seek as much information as possible. What better way to do that than my very own, personal, brown Austin Powers?

A close friend and honorary member of the BroCo, Adi, was sent to work in Dubai. I'm fairly certain he is a spy. I don't think anyone is clear on exactly why he's over there; all we know is he makes sick loot and has something to do with the military. It's kind of like when you ask an extremely rich, well connected Italian man what he does for a living, and he says he works construction as a "Union delegate". Hey, whatever helps you sleep at night.

Back to the task at hand: From what I gather so far, there is no porn allowed there, but there's an intricate way to snake around it, just so you can stay connected to your daily smut fix. I also learned that making 9 drunken phone calls at 12:30am Dubai time(3:30pm EST) will cost you $27. So far, I am severely unimpressed, as you kinda lost me at no porn. I don't know if I can have any involvement in somewhere that I can't access porn at the drop of a hat. You are a stronger man than I, sir. I will not, however, let this minor detail deter my investigation of the Middle Eastern way of life.

A few positive notes from the U.A.E. is the fact that the aforementioned gentleman is having a fantastic time in a very exciting experience in his life, not to mention the breath-taking cityscape, and the fact that Walmart Wolverines exist there, and are consistently as shitty.

Adi has the swag and skin color of Wilt Chamberlain. Being a brown person, he blends in well with the locals, but his lack of a uni-brow lets the ladies know he's something out of the ordinary. Once that certain sense of intrigue from the ladies kicks in, my man will clean up.
I nearly vomited Google searching images of uni-brows. It's terrible

The Dubai cityscape speaks for itself.

Now the Taliban (Walmart) Wolverine is where this all gets really rewarding for me. 
"Proof that most Michigan fans didn't go to Michigan - this picture was taken in Afghanistan. Forget Walmart Wolverines, they have Taliban Wolverines there." - Adi
I love how non-student Michigan fans hide behind the facade that they are a part of something better than anything they are actually involved in. My hatred for UofM aside, they do have traditionally elite athletics, top 20 academics in the country, etc. but this proves that 95% of their fans are bandwagon posers. Find me one Afghani that can point out Ann Arbor on a map and I'll post a "Prove It!" blog within seconds, and FedEx overnight out a blank map so said stranger can put their money where their mouth is . These "fans" never cease to amaze me. At least in the Midwest you probably have a relative along the way that went to UofM or that's just the team you grew up with. Quite understandable. But the audacity of these fucking people. I would not want to be associated with terrorists as a part of my fan base. I guess you gotta hand it to them for their douchebag-esque pride and perseverance.    

Adi is going to keep me updated on his shenanigans and the crazy goings on in the land of the sand. He is also going to guest blog every once in a while when he finds the time, so check back periodically to live vicariously through him.

Good luck, bud! Stay safe. 

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Leap into the Future





YouTube Video


This is the setting in which I will experience time travel. I can only hope my situation gets better when I arrive in the future an hour from now.

Location:Greeley St,Utica,United States


12 March 2011

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Tourney Pick 'Em







Brackets, bros. Let's go! Get at me for the password and I'll give you more deets.

DTBC Pick 'Em Link

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Beautiful Jazz in Beautiful Detroit



I’ll tell you what, Baker’s Keyboard Lounge proves southern hospitality is nothing compared to the welcome one will receive while exploring Detroit’s Jazz scene. A group of buddies and I ventured to the world’s longest running Jazz bar, Baker’s and were given a crash course in courtesy.
We strolled in through the front doors around 10:45 P.M. and were awkwardly standing in the middle of a conversation circle started by the greeter and a few guests. Thankfully, before the awkwardness could affect our moods the employee to our right said, with a smile and a tilt of his head “Welcome, make yourselves at home” as he motioned with his hand to the source of the alluring music.

I pushed the tattered red velvet curtain hiding the lounge’s entrance to the side and the ambiance created by the bar’s 75+ years of history gave me an out of body experience I haven’t felt since Bonnaroo 09’. I felt like Dean Martin going to knock back a few drinks with Frank Sinatra at a bar reserved for only the classist of Hollywood stars.

We grabbed the furthest table located in the corner which only magnified the level of coolness I was feeling as corner tables have a strange way of turning me on. Our waitress came over to see what we were drinking as we listened in silence to the musicians who were speaking to us threw their music.

I order a vodka tonic and the BBQ Rib Sandwich.

When the waitress finished taking our order the band’s singer said something that made everyone I was with feel tense.
“All right everybody we are going to play one more song as these guys [Bakers] are trying to close up.”
How can the these guys close up, I thought, if we just put in our order. Then it hit me, they can’t.

We were the group of people who were preventing all the workers from going home and if you have ever worked in the restaurant industry then you know those people suck. When our waitress came back with our drinks, we asked what time they closed and she said 11P.M.

I looked at my watch, it was 11:15 P.M. and we had just placed our orders. Our waitress assured us, by making fun of our discomfort, that no one (employees/customers) would mind staying until we were ready to leave. And she had a point, as everyone was still in deep conversation and had their drinks to finish.

Since the customers decided that Baker’s was staying open the singer invited his mentor, who was in the audience, up to the stage to show off her talent.
Not a single person at Baker’s was upset about staying open an extra hour and thirty minutes which showed me something I am not use to seeing from a business. Baker’s operates based on the idea that if people are looking for a good time, give them one. What surprised me the most was, despite Detroit’s bad rap this is the only business I have ever been to that showed me that kind of hospitality and to me...That’s Amore.

11 March 2011

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Spidey Sense?



I received a spider bite yesterday morning that I paid no attention to however I am starting to believe that I am about to take on "Great Responsibility."

My lower eye lid has been twitching since 7:00pm yesterday which is highly unusual as there is no history of eye twitching in my family.



Here is where it gets weird, I woke up this morning to the news of the 8.8 earthquake in Japan and the pending tsunami in Hawaii. Which leads me to believe I have acquired spidey sense!

I am now patiently awaiting contact from Charles Xavier.


10 March 2011

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Illinois Abolishes Capital Punishment, Signs your Death Warrent





Last year the Supreme Court (aka The Constitutional Bro Coalition) deemed Chicago's 20 year-old hand gun ban "totally harsh" and "very unBro-Like". Citing the Second Amendment, the court ruling affirmed the long standing belief that "when nigga's be getting out of line, they must be dealt with" or at the very least pistol whipped “across they bitch face”. This is important for several reasons. First, restricting access to weapons has directly restricted my right of self expression. Being a Bro of high moral character as I am, I must follow the letter of law. Thusly, I certainly WANT to shoot you in the face; however, I will not be breaking any laws to do so. By arming the populace legally, you effectively knock down the largest barrier to entry into the criminal world, i.e. crime.

I sense you understand my alarm following yesterday's decision to eliminate the use of Capital Punishment in the state of Illinois. Essentially eliminating
lex talionis for murder, you have removed the only real deterrent I can think of. Obviously, people don't kill each other because they them selves do not want to be killed. My murderous tendencies have been kept at bay thus far due in no small part because I find my own execution to be far too severe a punishment.

The folly of my local government has essentially opened a Pandora's Box, wherein the citizens of this fair city now have limitless access to fire arms, and an incentive to use them. I don't feel I am over stating the situation I find my self in, and if my near flawless view of human nature serves me, this should make for an interesting Saint Patrick's Day celebration. Let's call it the St. Patrick's Day Massacre.


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Oh, Miggers




                Mmm Scotch.

Yahoo Sports - Miguel Cabrera(notes) is not on the travel roster for the Detroit Tigers’ game Thursday night against the Florida Marlins, one day after the Florida state attorney’s office released new details about his arrest last month on suspicion of drunken driving.
A team spokesman says it’s normal for players to miss an occasional game during spring training and that manager Jim Leyland simply didn’t schedule Cabrera for Thursday. The first baseman is expected to play Friday against the St. Louis Cardinals.
Cabrera was arrested Feb. 16 in Fort Pierce, about 110 miles southeast of Lakeland, where the Tigers hold spring training.
New documents accuse Cabrera of threatening a manager at a restaurant shortly before his arrest.

If I'm faded and people wont let me in an establishment, I get irate too. I remember getting kicked out of the bar on my 21st bday. People legitimately thought I had cerebral palsy. A bouncer and a bro had to carry me out and I was threatening to murder them both. I tried to strangle my boy when I got home, but it was more or less him holding me up, un-phased, with my hand around his neck while I shouted about hate crimes. Those were the days. No harm no foul, Miggy. I see you big fella.  

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Gas Pumps are for Chumps!






Well I've been on facebook for about 9 minutes today and I've already seen 3 different groups/events proposing a boycott of buying gas this week. Is this shit for real? Do people comply with these requests. I get it, gas prices are fucking outrageous and a little piece of me dies every time I fill my tank. But can you really afford to boycott gas? I don't know about the rest of you hippies, but I depend on my car to get me to and from work on time. I need gas in my car. The only way I could boycott gas on a day is if I filled up the day before; and even then doesn't it defy the purpose of a boycott? You're not sending a message by refusing to buy gas one day and then filling up the next. People do that shit all the time.


And if you do boycott gas, get everyone on the same page at least. Ive seen three different FB pages suggesting that it happen on three different days. This is a crap-shoot, at best. I can guarantee that the BP by my work is still lined up with cars trying to get gas every day this week as it usually does (seriously its the only gas station within 3 square miles and right off I-75, its a 40 minute ordeal getting a fill there). So go boycott your gas purchases all weekend, but when push comes to shove and you got places to see and people to do, you'll be filling up at $3.59 a gallon. Shit, you'll probably use your credit card and end up paying $3.69. I'll be in-and out of the pumps with a full tank so fast it'll make your head spin.

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Detroit's Positive Change Has Offically Hit the Air Waves



The media is catching on brothers and Detroit’s local 7 Action News Team proves it, as they were the 1st news team to start broadcasting to the world, how badass Detroit is.


Fuck Anderson Copper and Bill O’reilly man, not one of them puts in enough effort to uncover what will be the world’s most inspirational feel good story.


You need a real hard working news team to uncover that kind a story, a news team that doesn’t fuck around when it comes to breaking news. The kind of news team that knows what struggle is, a kind of news team that was breed straight from the mean streets of Detroit.


There are only two reporters who put in the elbow greased required to uncover a story of this magnitude in such an early stage of the reformation. That’s right, I am talking about Detroit’s very own Dave LewAllen and the always sexy Ms. Glenda Lewis.


They just reported last night on the Hostel being built in Detroit, MI. Become a fan of their facebook page by click here.


Just like every great city Detroit now has an affordable place for travelers who want to come be part of a youth movement that is 100% committed to making Detroit the most inspirational city in the world. I for one am incredibly excited for this and am looking forward to staying here for a night to really take in the city. Check out the news covering by the country’s most hard working news team.



What kind of experience do you think people staying at this hostel in 10 years will have? Please share your thoughts in the comments section below.