To The Face...

I'm starting a new weekly column (if it can even be called that) today that I'll be running every Thursday or Friday until further notice. It's a really lame personal take-off on the Cheers & Jeers type columns which hand out praise and disdain to many of the items currently residing in our collective pop culture conscious. I'm not promising that this will be anything groundbreaking, or even really worth the effort it will take to read, but it should allow me to get some posts up that cover some of the random items floating through my head without making my consistently hung over brain work too hard at the end of a typically grueling (bullshit) work week. People, Events, etc. will receive one of two items directly to the face: A nice strong punch or a cool refreshing shot of liquor. I'm a total badass so I enjoy both of these in equal measure but since most of you jerks are total pussies we're going to classify the punch as a negative and the liquor as a positive. Because, honestly, is there any situation where a shot (or shots) of liquor could be construed as anything other than an overwhlemingly positive experience?

Since this is the is the first go 'round, let's just get right to it.

Punch: Mike Vick. I know taking a stand against dogfighting is a real chance to take in America these days but, what can I say? I like to live on the edge. I hope this asshole goes to jail and I hope his cell has it's own rape stand.

Shot: Pit Bulls. I own one and he's fucking tits (note: His Dad, owned by my good friend, is pretty effin' sweet too). He climbs trees, sleeps in my bed and has been known to drink alcohol straight from a stranger's cup when the mood strikes him. You won't find a more loyal, loving breed of dog out there. I'd love to see somebody crop Mike Vick's ears as part of his punishment.

Punch: Naked Old Dudes. There is a group of old guys who have full conversations whilst naked in my gym locker room. They do this for huge blocks of time and it's really disgusting. Listen fellas, I don't ever want to see naked cock and balls. Your droopy, wrinkly version of these make me physically fucking ill everytime I go work out. Throw a towel on for pete's sake.

Shot: Vacation. Mine got cancelled this weekend but I'm already working on plans to resurrect it in the coming weeks. There's just something fun about getting drunk in new and unfamiliar locations that makes me happy. And, by happy, I mean fully erect.

Punch: Big Sunglasses on girls. They're like huge plastic masks at this point. These things are so big that they cover over half of a girls face sometimes. You can't even get an accurate measure of whether a girl is good looking or not with these on. And that, my friends, is bullshit.

Shot: Shark Week. Yep, its here. Well, for you people its here. I live every week like it's Shark Week.

Punch: Otis Smith. I realize that you're a little strapped for cash at the moment, what with giving out two separate max deals in the last few weeks but could you even try and score a bargain or two in the free agent market? Hell, Houston got Luis Scola for nothing from San Antonio and guys like Juan Carlos Navarro and Mickael Pietrus are still available for less than the mid-level exception (with the trade of draft pick in Navarro's case). Don't you want to at least attempt to add some depth to your roster? I mean, maybe just send out a feeler or two? I'd have even been happy with picking up Brandon Bass to give the bench a little interior scoring. Of course, he signed with Dallas where he'll never, ever play so I can see why you didn't pursue him. I mean, if he's can't play over Dirk then he's certainly not going to take minutes away from Marcin Gortat.

Shot: Caron Butler. First we learned about his straw chewing fetish, then he shows up at some kids birthday party. Now, he's gonna buy himself a few Burger King's. This guy is awesome. If I was dying from some inoperable disease (My doctor says herpes doesn't count...dick) my wish would be to hang out with the Wizards on a 6 or 7 game Western Conference road trip.

Punch: July. Shittiest. Month. Ever.

Shot: August. You hear that? That's the combined sounds of rat bastard kids going back to school and two-a-days kicking off on college campuses and NFL Training Camps all across our great country. In the words of an immortal SEC fan, "Fuck, fuckin yeah!"

Punch: Staph Infections. What a bunch of bullshit. I contracted one last week and I had to cancel a trip to DC, stop playing basketball and haven't had more than 3 beers in a single night in over a week and half. Oh yeah, I've also had to pay a shit ton of money in medical bills and had part of forearm removed. Remind to kick Scott Staph's ass next time I run into him. What's that? It's Scott Stapp. Whatever, I'll kick his ass anyway.

Shot: NCAA '08. The one and only thing that kept me sane while I recovered from my staph infection. I may have become a cutter if this game had been released a week later just to break up the boredom. This maybe the greatest football video game ever. I mean,wow. The implementation of the spead option (the new man-in motion feature completely changes the game) of this game is, well, amazing. It also doesn't hurt my opinion of the game that Percy Harvin is peel your skin off fast and Tim Tebow runs through linebackers like Lindsay Lohan runs through cock (That is to say, face first). Has anybody ever married a video game? No? Well, that's just silly.

Shot: Me. Actually, that should read "Shots". I'm off antibiotics and I plan to drink myself into the form of a baby this evening. A baby who curses, smashes tail lights, and pisses on the neighbor's cat.