I never thought it would end like this. Then again, I’m sure that’s what everyone ever has said when their end finally comes. No one imagines how the end will come. Most of us try to ignore that there will be an end at all, really. Those who do, probably just give their best guess given the type of life they lead and various risks they take. So here we are, in the midst of our last week on Earth, and it’s nothing like I thought it would be.
First off, either the media is just suppressing reports of End of Days orgies around the world, or they simply aren’t happening. My local liquor store has yet to be looted, and there don’t seem to be any fires spreading throughout the city. This is the end of the world, and it feels shockingly like every other day. At least I can say I’ll never see 30.
But before I go, I’ve got a few things to get off of my chest. It’s confession/ rant time. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: Confessions at the end of the world
Remember earlier in the week when SG told you about an overly-benevolent strip club that saved a local little league from plunging into financial destitution? It was only going to be the best movie found on The Hallmark Channel.
Well, save those tissues that were obviously going to be used for and only for tears, because it’s all exploded in the faces of everyone involved. Coincidentally enough, that also happens at strip clubs. Solely due to the souffles found at the buffet, of course.
The manager of the league has decided that the league does not need the money … specifically, the strip club’s money. It’s still currently financially destitute after returning the donation, but both the strip club’s owner and the league’s manager hope that the news has drummed up enough attention to their plight. Reportedly a paramedic has donated 1600 dollars, but does that money come from broken dreams and c-sections? I think not.
A Los Angeles area Little League is in dire straits and could really use a miracle right now. And that’s when some angels show up to save the day — some naughty angels, that is.
The Lennox Little League, a poor urban community, was almost unable to pay increasing fees and can no longer sell grilled concessions thanks to regulations imposed by the K-8 Lennox School District. The Jet Strip, a local strip club whose manager serves on the all-volunteer Lennox Coordinating Council, donated $1200 to cover them for the year.
And it makes sense. Without future baseball players, who will support the strippers of tomorrow? Golfers? Please. There aren’t entire teams of golfers.
It is now the second week of June. This is typically the time when baseball’s elite start to distance themselves, and those nice little guys who flirted with .500 and had a division lead when they were 0-0 are starting to settle where they normally end up, and yes, welcome to baseball in D.C..
Baseball in the summertime in D.C. is a lot like football in Oakland, basketball for Clippers’ fans or Tiger Woods’ marriage: dead. If anyone can remember, the Nationals were last relevant in the summer of 2005. It was their first year in Washington, they had Alfonso Soriano and were a division leader going into the All-Star Game. To put this in perspective as to how long ago this was: Fall Out Boy was a “new” artist that year, Wedding Crashers was not in the $7.50 bin at Wal-Mart, SeriouslyGuys wasn’t even a thought, Chris, McBournie and myself were just out of college and batches of Jack Daniel’s that were being released had started aging in 1998. Continue reading Eat My Sports: A Natinals event
In an uncertain world, we rely on the few certain things in our lives or–more importantly–the lives of others to make everything make sense. It’s what wakes us up in the morning, ready to face whatever uncertainties the world will throw at us.
There, that should be enough Schadenfreude to get you to five o’clock. It’s the taste you know you love, especially after pouring it in Jesse James’ rehabed lap.
Mm, Schadenfreude: make it every morning’s shameful joy.
On Monday, there will be a new presidential tradition that has been around for 100 years. That’s right, in less than a week, President Barack Obama will throw out the ceremonial first pitch when the Washington Nationals host the Philadelphia Phillies.
This tradition dates back to 1910, when President William Howard Taft, the heaviest president we have ever had, threw out the ceremonial first pitch at a base-ball match sporting event. Now, a black, gangling president will throw out the pitch. My how times have changed. As they did 100 years ago, the press will be critiquing the president’s form and trying to interpret what his throw could mean should the Russians and the Japanese choose to tear up the Treaty of Portsmouth.
Except, unless there’s mitigating circumstances. If we got a wiener in the eye, we’d cry too.
You know how it’s the post-holiday season and it’s January, cold and sucky? Well, it’s also nearly Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Which for some people means a long weekend! This, after all, was one of his most famous speech lines, “I have a dream, that one day, the federal government and stock exchanges of this great nation will have the Monday off that is closest to my birthday. I have a dream!” If you were busy blaming voodoo for the Haitian earthquake, odds are you missed it.
So it wasn’t milk after all
To the surprise of literally no one anywhere, former St. Louis Cardinals (of baseball) slugger Mark McGwire admitted he used steroids during his 1998 run to break Roger Maris’ single-season home run record. He cried on television, probably because he was on the female hormone side of the cycle at that point, and said he wished he was never a part of the steroid era in baseball. Unfortunately, he forgot he was the poster child for it. Because he admitted to using illegal drugs, McGwire was promptly arrested and put in jail.
What’s going to happen to Max Weinberg?
NBC’s late night schedule is in flux, yet again. This time, they are canceling the failure that is the Jay Leno Show and moving him back to the Tonight Show, after Tonight host Conan O’Brien said he would not be willing to move the show to 12:05 a.m. to make room for Leno in his old time slot. The LenO’Brien (TM) situation got worse this week after both hosts made a mockery of NBC for the situation. And every other network’s late night hosts focused their displeasure on Leno, who is medically, a bag of douche.
The big, lonely Oval Office
In a recent interview with CBS News, President Barack Obama said he’s very lonely serving as president, because he is alone in his responsibilities and he is separated from regular people because of his office. Loneliness? This man needs some tips from a certain former president.
The Boston Red Sox of Massachusetts have been pretty much the only baseball team that has supported us in the War on Animals (unlike those chicken-loving Padres). Once again the Sox have stood together in the fight.
Pitcher Tim Wakefield’s wife was recently bitten by a dog near their home in Hingham, Massaschusetts. They could have gone the “oh well, these things happen” route, but the Wakefields chose to fight back. They threw a knuckleball when they decided to go to the town’s selectboard (that’s Massachusettsian for “city council”) and had leaders sentence the dog to death.
In traditional fashion, the dog will be revealed as a witch, humiliated in front of the townspeople, and hanged at the Hingham gallows.
It’s Halloween time, that means everyone will have costume pictures on the Facebook profiles in a week we are half way through the Christmas shopping season it’s nearly time to party. Yours truly may not survive Halloween because I will be going to a murder party. Having never been to one before, I’m not sure what level of make-believe is. So if it comes down to them or me, my hunting knife ought to win out. I bought a fedora for my costume the other day, not because I am going to be Don Draper for Halloween, but the party is supposed to be a 1920s speakeasy. I plan to draw on my college experience to play the part of drinking in secret.
But still, because it’s that time of year, things are getting lame brands of spooky, mostly television and theme parks. We have to accept that they are getting faux-creepy, but sometimes they go a little over the top. I can put up with horror movie marathons and the New York Yankees in the World Series to give me the heeby-jeebies, but commercials are where I draw the line.
DirecTV has recently launched a few new famous movie scene re-dub commercials where they pay semi famous people like Naomi Watts. This time around they’re smacking us around with some action from David Spade–not that we asked for it or anything. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: DirecTV practices the black arts