Friday, January 27, 2006

Timberwolves Trade Analysis

Well, McHale is obsessed with Ricky Davis. Remember when they signed him to an offer sheet a couple of years ago? he good? Yep. Does he try all the time? Nope. Can KG keep him in line? Who knows.

Now, in the end, I like this trade. I have never been a huge Wally fan, except when he's borrowing porn from King and Scho. But he has never really done it for me. Sure, he's great offensively, but he's a defensive liability. Now, they have some very strong defensive players to lock down opposing teams. The problem is, they still have no one who will step up in clutch time on offense. Wally never did it. Spree and Cassell would, but they've been gone. KG will not step up. Will Davis? Who knows. But I like the option of trying him out as opposed to sitting there with Wally.

I also like that Kandi is gone. Is Blount a big upgrade? Hell yes. Is he a great center? Hell no. Does he have the ability to be solid, play defense, grab some boards, not do a crappy little hook shot that misses everytime he shoots it and not be a black hole on offense, where the ball is never coming back when he gets it? Yep. And that's what we need out of a center. The problem is, if he doesn't regain his 03-04 form, we're on the hook for a lot of money for a slightly-above-medicore center. Plus, this is Kandi's last year. So, Blount has to respond, or that part of the trade is bogus.

I also don't like the trade of draft picks. Though McHale blows at drafting, why would you get two second round picks and give up your first round pick? Oh, yeah, because we're on the hook for so much money to Blount, we wouldn't be able to afford a first round draft pick.

So, this trade really comes down to: Will Davis step up in the clutch and can Blunt prove that his one good year was not a fluke? I say yes on the first and no on the second. least Kandi is gone...

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Fat Tina??

I was at Lifetime today and as I walked by the "massage" room, I noticed a picture of a masseuse. She appeard to be a large Samoan girl, but that's not why I noticed her, because, let's not kid ourselves here, if the Peniata's are any indication, that is not unusual. But I digress...

I noticed her because of her unusual name. It was Fatina. Of course, I immediately thought that her name was Fat Tina and found it interesting that it fit her. Then, I began to see the awkwardness of it all. Imagine back in 9th grade when she went to cheerleading tryouts:

Fatina: Hi, I'm here to try out for cheerleading.
Snotty Cheerleader Captain: Fine. Whatever. What's your name? Like, duh.
Fatina: Fatina.
Snotty Cheerleader Captain: (snickers to herself) Umm...okay Fat Tina.
Fatina: Why are you laughing?
Snotty Cheerleader Captain: (whispers something in the ear of her cheerleading cohort and they start laughing like morons) reason...Tina.
Fatina: Can I be on the top of the pyramid?
Snotty Cheerleader Captain: (looks at the rest of the cheerleaders and rolls her eyes, while puffing out her cheeks and stomping on the ground like an angry baboon) No, Fat Tina, I don't think you should be on top of the pyramid.
Fatina: (squints her eyes while looking at the Snotty Cheerleader Captain. The Snotty Cheerleader Captain explodes and blood and innards coat the whole cheerleading squad) Don't F with the Fat Tina!!!
Cheerleading Cohort: So, Fat Tina was a witch. Hmmm. Makes sense.

I'm sure that's about how it happened, because with a name like Fat Tina, you're either going to be picked on a ton or learn how to use witchery to defend yourself against people who make fun of your name.

Come to think of it, if I ever have a daughter, I'm going to name her Fatina. And if I have a son, he's going to be Fathomas. And soon, the entire world will be under the spell of the Fat Nelsons. (Brent starts emitting an evil sounding laugh)

Friday, January 20, 2006

It begins...

Well, apparently it's starting already. I didn't expect it to begin until at least six months from now, but the first article appeared today. What am I talking about? The first article insinuating (or flat out saying) that MArk McGwire doesn't belong in the Hall of Fame when he becomes eligible next year. The article I speak of appears on and is by Gene Wojciechowski. This prompted the following e-mail from me to Mr. Wojciechowski:

I bet a million bucks you'd hit zero homers, even if you had "better chemistry". Being ethical is a hazy line, and I see nothing ethically wrong with doing something that was not against the rules at the time it happened!! If we're going this route, why not take all the players who didn't wear a batting helmet out of the Hall of Fame? I mean, come on, it's a rule now, so that must mean that everyone at that time period should conform, even though there were no rules against it at the time. Seriously, get off your high horse. I think it's a good thing you don't have a HOF vote and I hope it stays that way...

God, I really do not see the point of these debates. Let's break it down right now:
  1. There has been no admission of any illegal activity

I think I've proved my point. Some other things we'll have to conside if Mr. Wojciechowski's line of reasoning permeates the people who have an actual vote (who I hope are not morons like Wojciechowski is)

  • Kevin Garnett will not be allowed to be in the NBA Hall of Fame: He came straight out of high school and was drafted when he was 18. Everyone know the rules say you have to be 19 to be drafted and play in the NBA. So, he broke the rules, hence, all his accomplishments don't count. What do you mean, it wasn't illegal at the time? That has no bearing on anything, right Mr. Wojciechowski?
  • Pete Incaviglia gets his single season NCAA homerun record taken away: He was using a bat that has been deemed illegal today, because the difference between the length and weight is too great. It doesn't matter that others at the same time were using the bat. It was their choice to use it and they knew it may be illegal in the future, jeopardizing all records they set when there were no rules against it. What do you mean they're not Nostradamus? They should just know if something might be considered wrong and illegal, right Mr. Wojciechowski?
  • Pete Maravich loses his NCAA career scoring record: You see, at that time, coaches were allowed to have the players practice as many hours as they wanted a week. Currently, the rules indicate that you can only practice so many hours a week. This made the players in the past that much better, hence allowing them to score more. So, since it's illegal now, we need to make sure the record books reflect that. What the hell are you talking about? The coaches made them practice? Doesn't matter! The kids can't do it today, so we need to remove those records from when it was allowed, right Mr. Wojciechowski?

As you can see, I could go on all day. But I won't. But soon, there will be a ton of these articles and I'm going to have to start my own website ( to refute their claims. Either that, or my head will implode into itself and no one will ever hear from me again...

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

This was an e-mail exhange that Alison and I had today. there really any question about why we're dating?

So, we went through a system e-mail change here, and Ryan (I'm sure I've mentioned him...he's the one who complains about his swollen feet all the time) is complaining so much, I just want to impale myself with a Sharpie. I mean, seriously, he's complaining more than that girl was last night when she got voted off AI. And that was a lot of complaining. I swear, he is going to drive me crazy today. Good times.

Why don't you just tell her how you really feel? Perhaps something like this...

Brent: Hey, Ryan?
Ryan: Yes?
Brent: Why don't you shut up?
Ryan: Excuse me?
Brent: I have had about enough of your fricking complaining - in fact if you don't stop I will be forced to either punch you in the throat or impale myself with a Sharpie. I will let you guess as to which one is more likely.
(uncomfortable silence)
Brent: Hey, Ryan?
Ryan: Ummm yes?
Brent: Can I borrow your stapler?


Saturday, January 14, 2006

The Water Fountain

I hopped off the treadmill after a grueling series of 400 meter sprints. My whole body ached and all I could think about as I walked towards the locker room was getting some cool, refreshing water from the water fountain.

Just as I was about to sidle up to the fountain, the Tall Taco stepped in front of me. No big deal, I'll just have to wait a couple of seconds for a drink.

I looked up at the ceiling and started to whistle.

I looked back at the fountain and the Taco was still sipping water. This was going on thiry seconds. Okay...I'm fine. He'll be done in a couple of seconds and then I can fill up my water bottle a bit and aggressively drink it; Dynamite style.

I looked back over my shoulder and noticed the line starting to form behind me. I made eye contact with the lady behind me and shrugged my shoulders as if to say, "I don't know what's wrong with him, but the ocean called and it wants all its water back."

She identified with my plight and gave me the sympathetic head tilt. I responded with the "I'm OK" head bob.

If drinking were people, he'd be China! I didn't want to say anything to the Taco, but the fact remains...

The Taco was still drinking! It had been over a minute! Was this ever going to end? This was beginning to feel like Batman & Robin. I didn't know whether to kick him in the bottom, yell at him or just fall to the floor in tears.

Finally, he leaned back and wiped off his mouth. He was done.

" was the trip across the Gobi?"


"You must have been quite parched from your trek across the Gobi Desert to require such a long time at the water fountain. I hope you found interesting artifacts and had a superior time, because everyone in line here hates your guts and probably wouldn't brake if they see you in a crosswalk. But I bet that was some goooooood water."

"Oh, sorry. I just walked half a mile on the I was really thirsty."

And then a towel came flying out of nowhere and severed my jugular, thankfully ending this conversation before I was forced to murdify this guy with a Q-Tip. Not that I condone murdifying, it's just that when I'm thirsty, watch out...

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

The Meal Deal with Bill McNeal

So, you need to peep this. I just came back from the A.Z. and it was splendid, thanks for asking. But that's really not the point of the story. I mean, yeah, it was 75 and sunny everyday, but that's neither here nor there. I'm just saying, it was the most perfect weather ever. There I said it. Happy now? Jerks.

But anyway, while we were down there, my younger brother challenged me to an eating contest. HE CHALLENGED ME TO AN EATING CONTEST!! You gotta be kidding me. This, to the man who can Hambone an entire buffett (plate of meat, plate of meat, 3 desserts, 3 desserts) in 15 minutes. And he thought he was going to beat me?

But, of course I was up to the challenge. Hell, I'm like the Badlands Booker of my family and there was no way I was going to let that crank try to snag all my hard won glory. So it was on. That's right, he danced at me, so I danced back.

We went to a lovely little place called the Horny Toad, which is right down the street from the Satisfied Frog. It's a family style place, where the ribs and chicken flow like Jesus Juice at the Neverland ranch.

When the food came out, I was off. I felt like Raffy Palmeiro must have...except I wasn't all hopped up on Tejada's B-12. No, I'm an all natural eater and I don't condone those who use steroids or have surgery to add an extra stomach. No sir.

But, the gist of the story is, I was eating like a man possessed. I kept one eye on the ribs, one eye on the chicken and one eye on my brother. In the end, it wasn't much of a contest, as those who have seen me eat can attest to. My plate was full of 22 clean ribs and three chicken legs. In comparison, my brother had 14 ribs and 2 chicken legs.

So, the moral of the story is...don't mess with me on a day I'm eating a lot because I will own you and demoralize you in front of all your friends and loved ones. And no ones wants that. recognize.

Monday, January 02, 2006


Um...I had to work today. Everyone else had the day off. If I had gone to the zoo, they wouldn't have let me in, because no one was working there. And even if I had broken in, the animals knew it was their day off, so they were just sitting around, smoking stogies and scratching their unmentionables. See...everyone else had the flippin' day off and could scratch to their hearts content. Nice work HR. Nice work...