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A is for A non. . ..

February 8, 2009 2 comments

Alex Rodriguez aka A Rod aka A-Fraud aka A Roid * tested positive for anabolic steroids in 2003, according to a story in Sports Illustrated. He was a then member of the MLB franchise Texas Rangers ( now a New York Yankee ). Yankee haters have all ready jumped on the NY organization, as if they needed another excuse. This because Roger Clemens, Jason Giambi & Andy Pettitte, past & present NYY, are also tainted by purported juice use. Barry Bonds, who may actually walk on his charges, missed being a Yankee because he didn’t like the way they treated his father Bobby, who by all accounts swung to his own beat.

All these issues go much deeper than athletes doing drugs to enhance their performance. When the US passed the Volstead Act in 1919 and the Prohibition Era ruled American life, it was with the best of intentions. The negative effects of alcoholic beverage consumption on the family and society was the virtuous ( ? ) impetus. And it failed early and often, creating lots of crime, drunkenness & the Kennedys of Boston, Mass. After 13+ years & a lot of flapper pregnancies, it was repealed and Americans went back to getting a good old legal buzz. I don’t drink alcoholic beverages because I don’t like the taste of alcohol though I have been known to make a few women under the influence, sober magically, once they get a load of my act.

Anabolic steroids are illegal without a doctor’s prescription. This is due to long term effects, one of which is premature death. Even after steroids were against the law, sports entities lagged behind in the rule making department. So, part of many players defense is—it wasn’t against the rules. Then. For the record, the list of players who failed the drug test, was supposed to be sealed information. It’s not the first time the steroid issue provoked an illegal leak; an act much more sinister than a jock abusing a PED. Meanwhile, for many reasons ( mo$tly obviou$ )the National Football League rolls on, laughing up its sleeve while organized baseball weathers the firestorm.

OK enough history. It’s covered better, with more detail and annotation, elsewhere, ad nauseum. I just wanted to show I knew something about the subject, other than, it’s nothing new. Humans always want an edge. Literally, for example, as in the Stone Age case of Ogg v. Grrrn. Ogg objected to the fact Grrrn had honed the edge of his stone knife. Mr. Ogg was fighting fairly, using a blunt stone. The case was never adjudicated, as Mr. Grrrn stabbed everyone in the cave and ran. All survivors agreed Grrrn made his point—he didn’t need an edge. He was just competitive & possibly the first known sociopath.

Alex Rodriguez catches heat for everything. Choking in the clutch, dating strippers, being a numbers hanger & being seen with Madonna. All the former are moot, the Madonna thing might just prove he needs glasses and could explain the need for performance enhancement. . .. Regardless, he’s an easy target, a Golden Idol, who is turning out to be a gilded lily and getting more tarnished with each passing pigeon carrying bad news.

The Jockocracy hopped on a bandwagon ( they love to—for most of them, it’s their only form of exercise ) a few years ago. This one was called Athletes Are Rôle Models. Then some rebels ( ha ha ha ) got on the Athletes Are NOT Rôle Models float. Well, they are and they aren’t, so they got that part right. Uh, some did–never mind. Any way most of them had been hoping Mr. Rodriguez would erase Barry Bonds’ current but tainted homerun total, because in the sports world, A Rod passed for a good guy. Oops.

What I mean is, sports figures are certainly looked up to by young athletes. Guitar godz are looked to by kids with their first six-string. Rappers, by other no talents dreaming of bling & bad fashion statements. But are they models for morality & integrity? Nope. In fact, hardly anyone is. Certainly there are always exceptions. Mainly because they haven’t had their privacy invaded by a voracious media. Or been caught with their pants off in Thailand. Yet.

The true disconcerting thing is the so called Court of Public Opinion. Essentially this means guilty until proved innocent (it used to be the other way around in the US) and likely even after you’re proclaimed innocent, because idiots who go by the CoPO, are too ignorant to form a new opinion. You know what they say about opinions—every one who has one is one (that’s a W quote btw).

I wish athletes never cheated. Or spouses. Or me, and I really didn’t cheat, I just happened to see a copy of a Math test once in 7th grade. Didn’t help my career—QED. I can’t condone it and I do think our culture is going downhill faster than Spanky & Alfalfa in that barrel episode of Little Rascals. That said, it might be the time to reveal Santa isn’t real. The Easter Bunny is not a hot chick who visits good boys on Easter. Though the Tooth Fairy is a fairy ( and that makes his dad sad ).

Still, somebody needs to answer why Bud Selig, Commissioner Of Baseball, makes almost 20 million per annum. Federal fatheads won’t, he’s one of them. For now. As for A Rod? I think Madonna is punishment enough.

©2009 Jukeofurl Prod

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Off the Wailing Wall

January 31, 2009 Leave a comment

Being a nice guy & mincing words about this subject has gotten the human race and me nowhere slow. Those assholes in the Middle East have done only one thing in two thousand plus years since they all colluded to whack Yeshua Christos. What else did they do? by their extended family feud, based on who owns the sandbox and my God can kick your God’s ass, they prove on a daily basis, there is no God. Unless God is a sexually repressed, retarded 15 year old geek with an hormonal imbalance and e.d.*

Make no mistake, I am a self-loathing human. Though I outgrew my waiting for the Mothership to take me home phase in 1999. Still like that song though. And I have lots of fleecewear and recurring sinus probs from standing outside in the cold, waving a flashlight in the general direction of the Pleiades.

We, meaning us, should tell the Israelis to move to Mexico. Not only would they give that dump a morality make over, the subsequent inter-marriages—oh come on, when Pancho meets Yentl, would result in some great looking people; mucho muy mitzvahs. AND matzoh are really just stale tortilla. Art Modell could help them move. (This is also my Super Bowl Tribute-speaking of vapid, empty displays of humanity.)

As for Sheikh Yerbuti Martin Lawrence of Arabia, those learning disabled masses need to lose their myopic world view. The USA didn’t invent Caucasian chicks and Mercedes. Americans just believe in making money, anywhere they can. Blame your leaders for liking blonde cooze and hypocritically breaking Mohammed’s ‘ laws ‘ (Mohammed-which translates as Mama’s Boy—no truth to the rumor that fruitfly Tyler Perry is doing a biopic—there’s not enough drag op for him-her-it) every chance they get.

The lack of imagination in the Middle East is astounding. Look, I know it’s serious and no fun. Though somebody enjoys it or they wouldn’t keep doing it. AND just like the New York Yankees, if the USA Franchise goes under, all you haters will be happy for a day or two. Then you’ll realize all you’ve done for two millenia is blow shit up. At least America makes stuff too. Coca Cola doesn’t grow on trees, you need to invent it first.

Here’s an idea. If you Semitic types are more than just semi-sapiens, why not get sporty with it. Every year at Christmas—dig the irony-choose a champion from a dune and a deli. Then have a UFC in the Holy Land. Call it—ummm—The Armageddon Bowl. Think of the ticket sales. The ancillary souvenir and concession shekels! Yowzah ya’ll, big bucks. Getcha falafel right heah! Make some of them foam burnooses and yarmulke. Go shirtless— it won’t be the same as Green Bay in December, but hey-it’s the idiotic thought that counts.

Or how about I call the Mothership—and instead of us wimpy peaceniks leaving, why don’t you go out and fight the universe. Just do us a favor and rip all the labels out of your clothes and leave your ID behind. Tell them you’re God’s Chosen Warriors and see what happens. What? you need some weapons. Sure sure we can get it for you wholesale. Ever hear of the Enfield rifle? no? excellent. . ..

I can dream can’t I. Though if it really could come true, my first choice would be a weekend with Bridget Regan in say, Arruba. I am a misanthrope and visionary, but I have needs. Oddly, the only thing I don’t have wrong with me is e.d. Sigh, we are all in this same boat—the same leaky ship of state. You can either have Captain Ahab at the helm or Jimmy Buffet. And for God’s sake, change the name. Who thought Titanic Too was a good idea? His ass is so FIRED! Wow, is that Kate Winslet naked? again!

OMG! I almost forgot—what’s your Super Bowl prediction? Wanna bet on the coin toss?

* listen to WFAN AM NYC for 5 minutes, you’ll get it

There’s November like November – part ll

October 30, 2008 Leave a comment

” We love our god and our guns. . ..” this a direct quote from a political ad, approved by John McCain, running on a local radio station here in the New River Valley of Virginia. A political statement meant to exhort Virginians to vote against Barack Obama, because he apparently doesn’t love their god or their guns. Love means cleaning, oiling & fondling your grandaddy’s 30 aught 6.

They love guns here all right. They love to sell them too. That’s how a mental patient, who slipped through a loophole in the VA TECH student psych screening process, bought two guns here in Virginia. Then took them to school for Show & Kill. Who is their god? Glock? or the twin deities, Smith & Wesson?

Not too far from here, about 10 miles as the Jim Crow flies, there still stands the site of slave cabins. No doubt my own house is built above the unmarked graves of somebody who caught a free cruise to the land of the free. This area rarely has a sunny start to a day.* Often, it’s more a mist, I call it gray-light. Maybe it’s the angry gun god, all smoke and bitter ash for dirty deeds. Or possibly the arsenal also, just down the road apiece. . ..

I have said previously, the President of the United States is a spokes model. He/she(?) walks point for the daily patrol-an important job, yes. But the chief exec leads the team out front. There are those no longer so deep in the shadows, who run things. Those guys have no gods. This, because they think they are them. What they do best is send out people to do things for them, destabilize a Third World country or prop up a druglord in a slag heap ending with -stan. Then they trot the Pres out to meet the press for an atta boy and a tutorial in spin doctoring.

Doing that needs lots of guns and money. No doubt Mr. Obama would prefer to use what’s left of the American economy to keep us strong at home. Roofs over our heads and a chicken in every pot and/or microwave. But that kind of thing upsets the ‘ foreign policy ‘ of the power brokers who work behind the curtains of the Oval Office.

Hollywood has remade a classic flick, The Day the Earth Stood Still. The premise of which is, extraterrestrial is sent to Earth to terminate it. Mainly due to our warlike ways. Naturally this is greeted with loads of firepower, which makes the alien think it’s actually on Mars, named after the god of war. Right after the shameful name of the NFL franchise in our nation’s capitol is changed, I’m petitioning the new administration to switch from Earth to Mars. Or at least the Dirty 3rth. Hey, yo I’m street, dogg!

When a political party’s endgame endorsement has god & guns as the slam dunk argument for its candidate, you know it’s in trouble. If McCain really heard that ad and approved it, it’s troublesome. If a lackey rubber stamped it for him, it’s even more so. I knew we were backwards here, but this is straight out of the Johnny Reb Handbook. The South will rise again? well not before my dinner does.

So, while I continue to live in Bubbadoon,* where it’s always 1808 with football & cell phones—their god approves of some new fangled things! I get out my pork rinds & moonshine, ready to watch the election returns. Who will win—Hatfield or McCoy? er, um I mean Obama or McCain. Actually, I thought Obama was an Irish name- what? you never heard of the Black Irish!

* not to mention 24ºF on October 31—sunny south my @#%&*! ass

There’s November Like November. . ..

October 2, 2008 Leave a comment

Presidential TV debates are not really debates. They are more like those Apple v. Windows commercials. Only without the dude from the late great ED show. It’s speechifying, packaged oratorial ping pong, with enough spin to make Sandy Koufax green with envy.

So, imagine my opinion of Vice Presidential debates. They are showcases for the stand-ins. The shadow pols. Them who would be veep. They are bullshit. Certainly not cool enough to preempt 30 ROCK. Even if Sarah Palin & Tina Fey are total sisters in MILFness.

OK here’s what I want them to talk about. Joe Biden can explain his plagiarized speech from whenever that was, a decade ago. AND Palin can tell us all about why teen pregnancy in Alaska is God’s will. Riveting. In much the same way, actual riveting would be, with admittedly not the same decibels, but likely more grating.

The one thing I am excited about is, there is finally an American candidate for an executive office who won’t be togged out in a stupid suit & tie. Or will she? I don’t know. Wouldn’t put it past some ahole to tell her she’d look more Presidential. Wanna bet somebody floated the idea?

I nominally worked for a few campaigns in my misguided youth. NO happy endings there. Unless you count The Oval Office escapade with the blue dress. The one thing I took from my Presidential campaign trail experiences was I learned how to use a coffeemaker. A skill, I continue to employ, so it was worth something after all!

I can’t personally run for office. Well, I can run. But my dodgy ( lol ) past would be exposed immediately and that would be that for the once & future king. I might have a shot at Pope. If a former Hitlerjugend can make it, the field is wide open. Odd how they send up smoke to announce a new Pope. Hmmmm wonder if he had a flashback.

Anyone with the urge to get elected is suspect from my POV. It’s rife with deals within deals. Maybe I could get longer than a week on the stump, considering how they seem to miss vital details. Intriguing how the home team often misses them, leaving the loyal opposition to amazingly find out Mayoral hopeful John Doughboy, was once in a cult that dressed as nuns and ate human flesh. It was only that one time at Cannibal Camp, but once in this case. . ..

Anyone compos mentis over the age of seven, who thinks the President is more than a spokesmodel, needs to read a book. Doesn’t matter which book, just try one. Then take a look between the lines. See it? no? go on, keep looking. You will.

In related news. . . Yankee Stadium will be razed soon and next season there will be a new ballpark in the South Bronx, my old hometown. My biggest memory of the place is going there for the first time and as we walked across River Avenue, my dad said- ‘see that big building over there? that’s the Bronx Borough Court House. I got in trouble as a kid and had to go there once. Don’t let that happen to you.’

I’m pleased to say, I’ve yet to set foot in there. Though, you never know. Meanwhile, I can’t wait to see who will be President, Apple or Windows. Either way, I’ll still have this @#%&*! dial up and phone lines installed by the CSA. Now there was a president, Jefferson Davis. I’d give anything to know what he’d say about the 2008 Election. I’d bump 30 Rock for that, and I ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie y’all!

What kind of twee would they be?

Barbara Walters has confessed to having an affair with a US Senator. Hold on, I need to drink some Red Bull.

Ahhh, that’s better. I almost yawned myself to death writing about Barbara Walters. She is so far past the expiration date, the FDA should issue an alert. Walters suggests had it been known, this illicit liaison could’ve ruined her career. My suggestion would be, does anybody have a time machine? I’d gladly give up going back in time to pay more personal attention to a young Anna Quindlen in HS, just to make sure Barbara never had a career. Oddly, it might serve to further my own journalistic pursuits. Hmmmmm

Meanwhile, lots of stuff has happened during my hiatus. Most of it is the s.o.s., so don’t worry, in 6-9 months it will all circle around. Again. My favorite though, me being a dude who blogs globally but bitches locally, was the gun dealer who spoke at Virginia Tech.

In case you missed it, yes, he’s the !@#&*%er, who sold 2 weapons to that piece of shit psycho. Of course his main argument was how could he know. After all, this is the USA and everyone has a right to make a living (?) and to bear arms. Somebody has to sell guns to wackos, so, why shouldn’t it be him. However, for the sake of Karmically balancing that idiot, the universe immediately killed off Charlton Heston.

OK. He’s correct. It’s not his fault that monster slipped through the PC psych vetting for students. Or that the Commonwealth of Virginia permits weapons to be sold. Virginia is more concerned with busting people who don’t wear seat belts & taxing citizens who buy frivolous luxury items, for example, like FOOD! Just a guess, more people drive cars to buy food than guns in the course of any given day.

I chose not to read much about this campus visit. Does me no good to get even more irate. I would like to know why the police can’t sell the guns. Wouldn’t they be better able to investigate and evaluate a customer? might even catch a few of them without their seat belts buckled too.

Heads up to any potential gun buyers, if you’re bringing donuts to grease the wheels with the cops, VA doubles the tax on any donuts you buy, if they are packaged by the store ( prepared food tax lol ). Get you enraged? have you ever considered visiting a TV show live? You know what would be a good one? The View. Just a thought.

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Happy Birthday to Captain America in Norfolk VA — do you ever miss your Shields?

Better Fed than Read

February 29, 2008 Leave a comment

Everybody is now after once immortal lock for baseball’s Hall of Fame, Roger Clemens. Latest arm of the Federal Government piling on ( a fitting term seeing as Mr. Clemens was/is a pitcher ) are the Boys of Hoover. He’s lucky it’s not the CIA. I saw a movie where Meryl Streep was in the CIA, she was one stone hearted mama. BTW Meryl is getting chunky, got to be from all those years of scenery chewing. . ..

Yes sir, the FBI will be investigating, while The CEO of the USA, is making dead grandma jokes about Latin lunkhead Manny Ramirez. Manny, being Manny, a state of being coined by somebody in Boston, likely not from Harvard, depicting moronic behavior as an expression of Ramirez’ individuality. I know he can’t, but can you say: E U P H E M I S M?

Seems Ramirez didn’t show up for the Boston victory lap around the Rose Garden. Again. He didn’t make it in 2K4 either.
I’m betting his excuse is he was off in his home country, the Bronx. Manny doesn’t know that’s in the US, a hundred miles or so to DC being too much of a hardship expense for a multi-millionaire. He does know he’s wealthy because he owns way too many vintage cars. Probably didn’t want to drive one of those babies on the Beltway. Elijah Dukes is with the Washington Nationals now, he’d key a quarter million dollar Bentley just because he saw his reflection in it.

Now looky here. No, here> If you break a law, especially one they made for your own good ( anabolic steroids & human growth hormones [HGH] bad! ), you shouldn’t be allowed to skate. I guess the cheating in sports angle really pisses a lot of people off too. Bettors get surly, makes things unpredictable, er, more unpredictable. I certainly didn’t care much for Roger Clemens when he was with another team, hmmmm what was that team? ah yes, those nurturing, benevolent Mother Theresa’s of Massachusetts, the Boston Red Sox, that’s who. They must have known someday he’d turn to drugs, so being high minded, they dumped him. Nothing to do with his four consecutive mediocre seasons. Nope. Which rhymes with ____?

I, for one, will sleep better and better, each time an athlete is punished to the full extent of the law for attempting to extend his career or get an edge. When Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens are taught a lesson, possibly water boarding, who knows, maybe all the political/religious extremists who hate US Americans, will rehabilitate themselves. Ray Stevens would like it, he could release a song parody of his old hit, the new one would be Rehab the Arab( pronounced w/a long A, like Mr. Bush would ). I wouldn’t want a PED Clemens fastball coming at my head in a dark alley! AND I damn sure don’t like the idea of Bonds breaking up my no hitter with a HGH homerun. Hell no!

Chicks Dig the Lung Ball!

February 26, 2008 2 comments

If only we could go back to the Golden Age of Baseball, when the athletes were as pure as the media( jk.) Make that the Old Gold Age. Say what you will about Roger Clemens or Barry Bonds, you won’t see them lighting up in the dugout! Jim Leyland, manager of your Detroit Tigers, might, but hey, he’s grandfathered in and a winner.

Back before all those do-gooder hippies & activists showed up, professional athletes could only

( provided they were famous enough ) supplement their then low seasonal pay, via lucrative endorsement deals. Car, beer & cigarettes were the troika and no lesser stars than Hall of Famers Babe Ruth & Ted Williams, were once at the top of the endorsement heap. Many fondly recall the Reggie Bar, Reggie Jackson’s validation of his superstar stature in the 1970’s. Though as a candy, it’s more remembered as a missile, rather than a taste treat. Free agency has aided that fiscal shortfall for current ballplayers. No more off season jobs pumping gas, working in a coal mine or being a deputy sheriff. Unless you’re Shaquille O’Neal: the NBA legend doesn’t need the money, he just needs the law re-enforcement.

Smokeless tobacco, the addiction formerly known as chewing tobacco (wow! they can spin anything—how about coming up with Cancer-less tobacco?), is still used primarily by baseball players ( and select NASCAR drivers.) There has been a concerted effort in the last few years to educate especially young players regarding the risks of mouth cancer, for that little bit of metastasis between cheek & gum. I was fond of Jim Bouton’s ( former Yankees pitcher & author )Big League Chew myself, a pouch of shredded bubblegum. You could blow bubbles with your mouth, and not with that hole in your larynx like Uncle Joe Bob.

AND never a bit of controversy with guys like Richie, er, Dick Allen ( our poster boy below ) back then either. OK, maybe he’s a poor example. So, that’s where the Phils got the idea for candy apple pinstripes! Still Spring Training is here and baseball is back on the field & out of Congress ( for the moment ). Can anybody say ‘Play Ball!’ Where’s my effin’ brewsky dammit! I mean CrackerJack. . ..

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*The U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Hibbert has determined juggling while smoking, may be dangerous to your health.

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The above is for educational and entertainment purposes only. Photo and cover art copy are sole Copyrights of Time Warner Inc. None of the above commentary or opinions are endorsed by Time Warner Inc. No monies were accrued by the author for this work entitled Chicks Dig the Lung Ball ©2008 Jukeofurl Prod.