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Disclaimer, this video had like over 1 million views, so if someone else has posted it previously, I am truly sorry, I never saw it and I had to post it on the Deuce.
"Is he as good as me? Hell, no," Bonds told The Post when asked if Rodriguez was the best player of this generation. "He's better than me now because he's younger than me. But, hell no."We're surprised that Bonds didn't put the Brown Hornet and Bookman from Good Times above A-Rod as well. They always came through in the clutch.
Bonds was later asked if Rodriguez ranks right behind him. "He ain't even second," he said. Bonds said that honor goes to his close friend, Ken Griffey Jr., "but he got hurt."
''I was the only one who came out of camp with a separated shoulder. I mean, we're talking a separated shoulder, not a bruise. Take what you want from that. I don't think it's hard to figure out."Too bad his own coaches didn't back him up.
''Having Thomas last year, he was established; you knew he was going to be there,'' [Running backs coach Tim] Spencer said. ''Ced was trying to take his job, so he was trying to step up his play. He was running harder. He was trying to do some things, to be physical and show everybody he can be that guy, and he probably took a few too many shots. I don't think anybody took any cheap shots at him; that's not our guys.
''It was tough. Thomas was a true pro. He was going to do everything right, and unless you're going to do everything right, too, and do it a lot better, it's going to be tough [to take the job] from a guy like that.''
In other words, Benson had no chance of taking Thomas' job even when it was given to him.
"The way my attitude is or the way my guard is set up is based on how I have been treated. It's not like I was like this always. I was never all that open and outgoing, but these things have made me stay to myself even more."
Ced should have no problem fitting in this season. He'll kick it with Bears running back emeritus Rashaan Salaam at the Wild Hare while making new friends every week. Friends with linebackers and defensive ends rolling through the offensive line easier than a trust fund douchebag into someone rhyming with Haris Pilton's ass. Don't be surprised if Brian Urlacher separates his other shoulder. Any idea which Bear punches him this season? Our money's on the Cumslinger. So fast he can pull off the donkey punch with no hands.
"The older I get and the more I play, the more I'm yearning for that highest level I can play at and I think the Premiership would be the best place the play," he told Sky Sports News.
"If I were to go obviously the language isn't an issue. There are a lot of Americans there. It would be the easiest place the settle, Germany was difficult.
Wah! Donovan had his chance to play at the highest levels and ran back with his tail between his legs when things got hard. He bitched about playing time even though he was dreadful when he played especially during Champions League. Premiership teams are really on the lookout for players with no heart or commitment.
"If it ain't broke, don't break it."From The Star
"[Entourages] are like contracts. Everybody's got one. Some are just bigger than others."
"It was like the police trying to stop a shootout: You gotta have your gun out. Don't go out there with your hands down."
"Nowadays, these young guys, anytime you say something, you're picking on them. Back in the day, half of these guys wouldn't get in the league...The league is just like daycare.''
"Oh well, that's basketball. It used to be basketball. I don't know what it is now."
Police [recommended] that ... -year-old Sadia Morrison, face similar charges in connection with the fight ... Morrison, a New York resident, should be charged with one felony count of coercion in addition to the felony battery with a deadly weapon charge she was already facing, police said. Police booked Morrison into the Clark County jail on the day of the shooting for the felony battery charge.Spanky better kick her out of his house right quick before she sees where he keeps the Eastern Motors chains.
Prosecutors claim Taylor, 34, found the Surry County property purchased by Vick and used it as the site of "Bad Newz Kennels," a dogfighting enterprise. The Hampton man also allegedly helped purchase pit bulls and killed at least two dogs that fared poorly in test fights.Ron better hope that his herp-herp keeps his fellow prisoners off that ass. Hope he's still working out cause he's going to need those evasive skills if he drops the soap.
Now, if i wish to enjoy to enjoy my NFL Network, I must subscribe to Comcast's Sports and Entertainment Package. Comcast explains the change in this way:
Now Comcast customers who are NFL fans can watch the NFL Network on the Comcast Sports Entertainment Package while customers who do not wish to watch NFL games will not incur additional costs.Excuse me? WHO THE FUCK DOES NOT WANT TO WATCH NFL GAMES? Its the most popular sport in the US!
Basically, they're attempting to strong arm the NFL who was insisting that Comcast stick this channel on their basic or non-premium plans while still forcing Comcast to pay more money for the channel. Comcast saw their bluff, and just stuck it where they wanted. Who loses? ME.
This Chimpanzee is raging. Since both of these fuckwads are screwing me over, I'm through. Comcast will lose money from me because i'm going to ratchet down my service to the most basic of cable, since the only reason I had this plan with hundreds of channels was because the NFL Network was on it. Comcast & the NFL will lose because I am not paying extra for their channel when I already was paying extra for their channel by getting the Digital Plus plan. I'm not going to pay extra, extra for a bunch of random sports channels I don't want.
Fuck you Comcast for making me lose one of the few channels I actually did watch...and fuck you Time Warner for Mustafa not even being given this choice by you guys not even putting the network on your cable system.Comcast image from Legions.org
"An unproven teenager, he was, like cheap manufactured goods, being shipped to Europe for an indefinite period in storage."
No comment necessary.
They had enough money to hire a baby sitter, said Assistant District Attorney Chris Liege, who showed the judge photographs of the couple's extensive collection of Packers memorabilia.
This is all pretty sick...I think the sickest thing about it is that Hardrath only has to serve seven months in a county jail and Scherer just has to serve nine months, both get four years of probation with a stayed sentence of two years in prison...oh and more extended supervision.
How does she get to keep the kid? Jesus, she made her kid make his own fucking sandwiches!!!
Link from Yahoo AP News
[Aaron]Brooks has been on the mend since suffering a stomach injury last season with the Oakland Raiders. He had a workout with the Washington Redskins a month ago, according to his agent, but has gotten little interest. That's odd for a quarterback of his physical talent. If healthy, Brooks would be one of the top backups in the league.
I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that Vinnie Testaverde can get a job as a backup on a team with serious super bowl possibilites, but Aaron Brooks cannot even get a job on the Lions or Browns or Cardinals. He is not a great Qb by any means, but a career QB Rating of 78.5%, a 6 year starting quarterback in the NFL, is a threat to run at any time, and has had just two truly bad seasons as a starting quarterback...unfortnately for Aaron, those were his last two seasons. But, look at his stats and tell me you don't see a quarterback that can be a great backup in the league, especially compared to some of the stiffs currently occupying that role for some teams (Gus Frerotte is the backup for Bulger and the Rams...are you kidding me??). Someone is going to get a steal of a backup with Aaron Brooks...and I'm not saying that because he went to my alma mater.
The Air Force Golf Ball Launcher is an air pressured device that will allow people to fly a golf ball from up to 300 yards to as little as just a few feet. The advantages to this revolutionary sport are that no clubs are needed (except for a putter), no physical skills are required, and any and everyone can enjoy the newest way to play the game of golf. The only two decisions left are: 1. How much air pressure is needed for this shot and 2. what angle is needed to achieve the maximum distance from the launcher. (which is upwards of 300 yards).
This is just scary. Can you imagine what you could do on a golf course with this? The abuse potential alone from shooting balls at that guy behind your group who is always yelling "Hurry UP!" is off the charts. College students and fellow drunkards will have a FIELD day with this thing! This is not to mention the fact that I cannot for the life of me hit a golf club with any sort of accuracy whatsoever, but I sure as hell can shoot a damn gun!
We will have a 'Texas Shootout' where 144 players will all donate $1,000.00. The top amount of players who finish the 18th hole will now go to the 19th hole for a "shootout!" A hole that can be reached by the Golf Ball Launcher but far enough to make it a challenge will be the "shootout" hole. Everyone will get one shot at the pin. Whomever gets the closest to the pin will win the grand prize of $100,000.00. Second and Third place finishers will split the rest of the pot minus donations made to the AGA and subsequently disabled veterans. Once we get enough of these events throughout the country we will have our own 'super bowl-like' event, in which the top three players from each event will play for a million dollar winner take all challenge.
Right now they are offering the first 525 for sale to the public at a price tag of $995...not including the 2-stage hand pump or 12 volt mini air compressor you'll need to generate the PSI needed to launch that little white ball into oblivion. Just contact them and let them know. I dunno how I'm going to be able to pony up over a grand for the gun and equipment and then another grand for the tournament. I'd better win that junk if I did enter. I just want them to know that if they give me one...I will market the HELL out of them for free. See, here's their logo!From Inventions Showcase
Ron Snyder, CEO of Crocs, Inc., stated, “We are proud to partner with Major League Baseball Properties and we look forward to providing baseball fans with Crocs footwear and Jibbitz charms featuring their favorite team colours and logo. This agreement represents an important step in the evolution of our sports licensing business.”You know what this means, we all now must look forward to seeing these day glow eyesores all over the ballpark by trendy logo wearing fans nationwide. Thank God, they didn't sign one with Uggs too. Be a hero...don't buy these shoes. (Yes, that is Mario Batali wearing Crocs...take it as a sign).
Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth. Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me.
A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.
We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you -- in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however.
I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without to much concern. Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...
I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good shit, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wire cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a shit. I went to the normal stall.
In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical proportions.
I began "The Move."
For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of shit at the exact same second that ones ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.
I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch. What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can.
In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crotched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over shit no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted.
At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of shit the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The shit wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down.
Recall that when that event occurred, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the shit wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, like what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of shit remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.
Now, back to the vomit...
While all the shitting was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles.
In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet.
In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in shit that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid shit. All while thick shit was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.
And there was no fucking toilet paper.
What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.
About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.
The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.
Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.
When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.
The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.
“It’s just a bit of banter between the lads. David can take a joke and he knows they don’t really mean it. At least he doesn’t think they do.”Frank Lampard, Joe Cole and John Terry are the suspected culprits but if anything happens, our money is on John Mikel Obi.
The coach Frank Yallop said it was "flat and uninspired," and added: "We were slightly nervous with David here. We were scared to get on the ball, scared toThis is going to go as well as the Magic Hour and Chevy Chase Show combined.
make mistakes. We let ourselves down."
"I want to redeem myself and try to help this team redeem ourselves as an organization and try to get back on track," Mourning said. "That wasn't the Miami team you saw in the playoffs last year. ... I was embarrassed. I was truly embarrassed by that outcome. I know for a fact we're a better team. It left a sour taste in my mouth and it's time to really end it all on the right note."
Wait, he doesn't want to be embarrassed?? He is 37 years old and while missing only 6 games last year, quite a feat for playing with only 1 original kidney, he averaged 8.6ppg/4.5rpg/2.3bpg all while playing 20 minutes a game. He shot an admirable .560 from the field but an almost Shaq-like .600 from the free throw line. His PER for the season was 16.76 (only b/c he blocked 2.3 shots in his 20 mpg) leaving him just behind the comparatively awesome Nenad Krstic and Zaza Pachulia in the famed Hollinger Player Efficiency Ratings. None of these numbers can possibly go up from last year.
Ok, his blocked shots are good, I mean the last time Dikembe blocked that many shots a game was way back in 01-02 in a Sixers uniform and he is somehow still in the league but really, Mourning achieves high levels of suckdom in every other aspect of the sport of basketball. His points and rebounds per game has been on a steady decline since 2001 while his blocks remain nearly the same. Know what this means? He is standing in the paint waiting to block a shot leaving himself in poor rebounding position, then is too slow to get back to the other end of the court and score because...he is 37 years old and has a kidney that did not come pre-packaged in his body.
Granted teams like the Wizards are still on the hook for players like Etan Thomas and Brendan Haywood who make a ton more with not much better output but at least they still hold the promise that they can get better and their PER's are 15.6 and 14.2. Mourning hasn't been that productive since 2003, he is, and has been for awhile, going downhill.
This is nothing against Alonzo as a person, he, by all appearances, is a great and very charitable guy, having done some wonderful things for healthy and sick people alike...but he should hang it up. Its no longer inspirational. Its getting to be a little sad. I'm not a Heat fan, but I did grow up watching Georgetown play some great basketball from my parent's suburban MD home, I want to remember 'Zo like I used to, not now. You never want to see a player pull a Willy Mays...and tell Dikembe to quit playin too.
"I love Garcia," Gruden said recently. "I like what he's doing a lot. I just think he's got some traits we haven't had around here - his mobility, his experience."Men and women always say that men don't know what they want out of a relationship. If this isn't specific enough, there's no hope and assclown hacks like Dr. Phil are going be in business for a long time.
"I just like good quarterbacks, like everybody else in this league. Guys that can make plays a number of ways, whether it be through experience, seeing a look, not running the ball into a corner blitz, making a change at the line of scrimmage. A guy who can create with his legs. I like a guy that works the pocket and can throw the ball in congested areas and be accurate. A leader. A consistent performer."
"Garcia is a guy we coveted. We made no secret about that the last few years. He's in great shape, he's doing a good job and I don't want to jinx him. He still has a long way to go, but we do like his progress, and we think he's got a nice future here."Wonder if Gruden or anyone else in the Amish administration told Chris Simms about the collective hard-on for Garcia.
Jebediah Glazer: Malcolm, someone should tell the boy we no longer want to churn butter in his backside. A boy without a spleen is no longer suitable for such customs.Somewhere Shawn King is laughing while jockeying cars in Adams Morgan and eating bags of pork rinds.
Malcolm Glazer: Sigh. 'Tis true, Jebediah. We must let him down lightly. We can only look forward now. I have sent for the ratboy they call Rio Ferdinand so that he may initiate the Rumspringa in the Garcia boy.
The Harford County community owes $6.7 million in stadium-related debt, and millions in interest, on a payment schedule stretching to 2022. The city's stadium fund has posted operating losses that total more than $1 million since 2001, forcing Aberdeen to dip into its treasury.Admittedly, most of the blame lies with Aberdeen for "negotiating" a moronic deal with Ripken Baseball which saw it give up a majority of the revenue from the venture. City officials thought they could make up the money in other ways but none of them have generated funds. The city has attempted to renegotiate in order to have Ripken Baseball pay more of the costs but talks are at an impasse.
Most minor-league stadiums are owned by larger jurisdictions that can spread the costs over bigger budgets ... Aberdeen's deal lacked such safeguards, and the city shouldered an additional burden by agreeing to provide land for the academy and an entertainment center.The deal was negotiated by the previous administration which of course has defended it. Current mayor S. Fred Simmons expressed concerns before he became mayor while on the board that oversees the stadium but the complex was a done deal at that point in 2005.
Thanks to a former Bangor High School tennis player with a thing for baseball, the borders of Red Sox Nation have expanded even more.They expanded into Burkina Faso like the Belgians into the Congo or the Portuguese into Angola.
If the Red Sox helped Yardley get his foot in the door, he returned the favor by preaching Red Sox lore, legend and loyalty to the Bomborokuy natives, whose curiosity had been piqued by the man they named Wendpanga, which Yardley said roughly translates into "The Force of God"They were primitive and backwards with soccer and political logos on their houses and flesh. They soon forgot their old ways and their old sports. They began fighting with each other, adopting horrible Boston accents, and praying to a picture of Carl Yastremski eating a wicked large grinder. Neo-colonialism at its worst.
"In my village, I definitely converted some people..."It's unlikely Yardley told them about the quota system or black players not getting invitations to Elk dinners.
"...Maybe I didn't take a lot of Yankee shirts off the market, but I did get rid of a few."
"He was also the coach for our village's soccer team and they won the championship for the entire region this past season," Yardley said. "I don't know what they were before, but he told me they changed their name to the Bambiroqui Red Sox."
BMX and Mountain Biking