Showing posts with label Elin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elin. Show all posts

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Just Call Me Scoop


This whole blogging thing works like magic. Apparently, if you are really good the Blog Fairy comes down and blesses you with a scoop on the number one story in America, maybe the world. What a sad state of affairs that the US is running two wars, the global economy is in the toilet, Dubai may have to push back its Superhero Themed Amusement Park and the biggest story in the world is Tiger Woods.

Well I just got word, from the same source that sent me the excerpts from the Tim Donaghy tell-all (which you will hear all about on 60-Minutes this Sunday),  that the 911 call was made by none other than Ken Griffey Jr. Apparently, El Tigre was over at Junior's house for a friendly game of Poker. Poker? I hardly knew her. Of course, it HAD to be Poker. As I mentioned in the previous blog everything in this story has a double entendre.

Anyway, while Tiger was over at Ken Griffey's house playing cards with the boys, Elin was using the time to check his phone, e-mails and texts. Obviously she saw something, or several volumes of something, that she didn't like and stayed up to greet him...with one of his custom made Nike Long Irons.

This fills in a few gaps and unanswered questions in this whole story. Thanks to my trusty source we now know why Tiger was up at 2:30 in the morning, why the neighbor would have heard a 20-mph car accident and why Tiger sounded like such a douche in those texts. Ok, well, it doesn't explain the last one, but you have to admit that he really does come off as that nerdy kid in high school that is WAY more confident than he should be because his parents bought him a Beamer and are away for the weekend. You know what I mean? I mean, who gets amped up reading those texts? Other than that whore elegant woman that is really just another victim in this whole story. Other than her...and the night club manager who's all bitter that someone stole her spotlight...or the waitress in Vegas...

Well, until my NEXT scoop I'll just sign off.  Good night, Mr. and Mrs. America and all the ships at sea

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Lamberts and Tigers and Vamps, Oh My!


I think that the good people at Butterball are stuffing something other than Tryptophan into their turkeys. There is just no other explanation for the last several days.




1. Someone named Adam Lambert got bumped from Good Morning America for kissing a dude on TV. Doesn't Mr. Lambert know that that kind of depravity is only acceptable on highly rated television shows like Brothers and Sisters. I'm glad ABC and GMA stuck to their guns on this one and replaced Adam with that good old all-American poster boy, Chris Brown. Yeah, THAT makes a lot of sense. It's like I have always said, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, unless your gay because we can't tolerate that kind of behavior. Well, unless its girls kissing, because that's kind of hot, even if the other "girl" is seventy-three.


2. Can someone explain the whole Twilight thing to me. First of all I thought that Vampires burst into flames in direct sunlight. What, did they figure out a way to bathe in zinc? What's next, I suppose you're going to tell me that garlic and crucifixes don't work and that vampires are really misunderstood James Dean types that happen to be really good at baseball.
And what's with this franchise taking over the local Cineplex? I tried to take my kids to the theater the other day to watch some movie with Nicholas Cage doing the voice over work for an otter, [editor's note- The next casting director that thinks Nic Cage would be perfect for the voice of a rodent, dog, or scientist can NEVER do casting for anything...ever.] anyway, I tried to take my boys to the movies and they had shut down the theater because a group of MILT's had rented out the place to watch Kristen Stewart brood. That's Mother's In Love with Twilight, if you're scoring at home. These were 40-year old women standing in line to watch some kid, that can't legally drive a night, take his shirt off. Creepy, no? They should be ashamed of themselves. Most of those women were obviously old enough to remember the great Senator of Massachusetts Ted Kennedy because they were wearing an old political t-shirt claiming to be on Team Edward. It's creepy and lecherous. I mean that would be like, wait a second. How old is Megan Fox? Or no, the other girl in the Transformers Movie how old is she? OoooK, um. Wow, really? Well it's like I was saying, nineteen. Nineteen should be the cut-off. Yeah,  because that would mean I was a sophmore in college when. Eew, wait a second... Carry the one...hmmm. Aaaaanyway, moving on.

3. I never thought I would say this but, thank God for Sandy Bullock. Playing the part originally written for Goldie Hawn in 1986, Ms. Bullock came along with that movie about a homeless simpleton that learns how to play football properly when his adopted mother explains the game to him by emasculating him in front of his friends, coaches and teammates. I can't believe I was rooting for a movie about a guy on the Ravens, but I just can't have those Lamepires breaking box office records. As much as I was rooting for The Blind Side it is no Fighting Back: The Rocky Bleier Story. I'll take Robert Urich all day long.

4. Reality Shows need to loosen their standards and let these wannabes do their own shows before somebody gets hurt. Just weeks after the Balloon Boy parents-of-the-year story, two more Reality Show Losers, which is REALLY saying something, crash the White House State Dinner. Are you kidding me? In both cases these nut jobs really showed the producers of the potential reality shows that they had made a huge mistake, by doing something even whackier than their purposed shows. Look it's fun or cool or whatever that Michaele and Tariq Salahi made it passed the various check points and made it into the Dinner, but I would prefer that our President actually be insulated from ever having contact with people that weren't good enough from Real Housewives of Anywhere. I feel dumber for knowing anything about these people and our country can't afford that right now.

5. The story of the weekend, and probably the next 12 months, belongs to Tiger Woods, his wife Elin and that whoreiffic night club "Manager" Rachel Uchitel. First of all, Tiger needs to find other interests. Everything in this story involves golf. Granted he's gotten him self into trouble all year with bad lies and poor driving but this is ridiculous. Tiger should know better. The one thing about golf is that it is the only sport where you police yourself. Cheating is not tolerated, and players often turn themselves in to the officials. Come to think of it that is probably exactly what happened the other night. Unfortunately, Tiger has lived such a sheltered life that he probably thought Elin was just going to penalize him a stroke or two and call it a day. There are just too many ways to go on this thing. Playing in the Rough, changing sponsors because he found his game works better when someone else works on his Shaft, a million and one Hole jokes, Elin's Back Swing, Drive, Driver, Driving, Shank, Hook, Slice, Plug, Ball, Stadler, Flag Stick, Wedge, Trap, Out-of-Bounds, Strokes, Score, Woosnam, Score Card, Club, Clubbing, Hide the Gopher, Bite, Spin, Fade...too...many...words...golf...is...dirty.

I was going to try and work a few more puns about "Clubbing" or Tiger having a wicked slice in there but my head started to hurt. Turns out these exercise induced headaches are just the effects of a mild concussion I received last weekend. You know I really thought that I could finish this post. [an Actual Editor's Note- Tiger just announced that he isn't going to show up for his own Golf Tournament. Poor form El Tigre. You HAVE to make it to that. He's getting bad advice]

Oh, well you live and learn.