Why the World Invented TiVo

Yesterday's results:

Law & Order (11.3 rating/17 share)
CSI-NY (9.6 rating/15 share)

Coincidence that our decisive victory in the overalls falls the same night that my car debuts on Law & Order?

I think not.

The Juiced is Loose (or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Bad Grammar)

I finished Juiced.

Like I said earlier, Canseco's simply too ignorant to actually pull a lie of this magnitude off. And the cracks deepen, with an FBI investigator and former A's manager Tony LaRussa coroborrating the story as well.

The book's good, though. The story of the Angry 'Roided Cuban and his foray into American Popular Culture can't help but be captivating, especially since reading it genuinely reinforces that there couldn't possibly be a ghost writer. Sure, this is the guy who sold "Spend a Day with Jose" while he was under house arrest, and the guy who's auctioning off his 2000 NY Yankees World Series Champion ring... still, it's a good read.

If only for tidbits like this:

On the birth of his daughter, Josie (my italics):

"They held up the umbilical cord, and I cut it. As soon as the nurse slapped her on the butt and she started crying, you could see the oxygen turn her from a dark purple to pink, pink, pink, and right away you could see her blue eyes." (144)

Then, one paragraph later:

"Very often, I'd be looking at Josie and I'd turn to look at Jessica. 'We created her!' I'd say, 'Look at her, a beautiful little girl, blonde hair, green eyes, tons of personality. We created this." (144)

Are You IN?

Paris Hilton's phonebook is available for all to see on the internet, much to the chagrin of Carson Daly. Some computer hacker hacked into her T-Mobile Sidekick phone and uploaded its contents on the internet. I'm hoping said hacker was beaten up and dragged into daylight shortly thereafter.

Apparently, former MTV VJ, host of that show before all the infomercials, and all-around "nobody cares" guy Carson Daly's upset that his number was NOT on Paris Hilton's phonebook. This is a phonebook that includes:

a local Rite Aid
rapper Bow Wow
mafia daughter Victoria Gotti
author Stephen King
Frankie Muniz of "Malcolm in the Middle" and "Cody Banks" fame
lawyer Robert Shapiro
someone named only as "doughnut"

And Carson couldn't crack this list. A contact list featuring those bozos, with a total of 510 people.

Then again, there's also the photo section of her phone. Carson didn't crack that, either, but he couldn't considering there's nothing but THIRTY-FIVE (yes, 35) photos of Paris herself.

Ever tried using a cell phone camera? It's not easy to take a picture of yourself, let alone 35 of them.

Poor Carson. It's apparently not easy to take a picture of him after 15 minutes, either.

You AS the Captain Make It Happen

Help Wanted (aka my backup plan if this TV thing doesn't work out)

Pitchers and Catchers

Now, thanks to Jose Canseco, the phrase "pitchers and catchers" can refer to a thinly-veiled euphemism describing his early days with Mark McGwire as well as the first day of Spring Training.

I sold out. I bought Juiced. I'm reading it now. Canseco writes like a fourth grader.

Favorite excerpts so far?

On introducing us to Canseco's perspective to steroids:

"We're talking about the future here. I have no doubt whatsoever that intelligent informed use of steroids... will one day be so accepted that everybody will be doing it. Steroid use will be more common than botox. ... As a result, baseball and other sports will be more exciting and entertaining. Human life will be improved, too. We will live longer and better. And maybe we'll love longer and better, too." (2)

So apparently, we're looking at this steroid issue all wrong. Steroids, if used properly, will make us well-adjusted members of society as well as "not only make you stronger and sexier, they will also make you healthier." (3) Damn, wish I had known that back in high school when I was shagging flies in the outfield with the kid blaming air pockets for his dropped balls.

On Canseco's Mom:

"She was our protector when my dad had a bad day at work or was after us for some other reason. Don't get me wrong. Ozzie (Jose's twin brother) and I were not what you would call little angels. ... My mom was the one who was always trying to soften the blows or the issues with my dad. From the time when we were young boys and all the way up until high school, Ozzie and I would always run to mom for protection if my dad criticized or spanked us. We loved her very much." (23)

I laughed out loud. Fact is, reading this book reaffirms Jose's got issues and segments like this back it up. Especially considering I think I wrote something similar about my Mom back in 3rd Grade.

On Mark McGwire:

"Sometimes we did it before batting practice, sometimes afterward. It was really no big deal. We would just slip away, get our syringes and vials, and head into the bathroom area of the clubhouse to inject each other." (74)

"Inject" each other, eh? Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?

I find myself incredibly amused at how all these steroid references come off as homoerotic. Truth is, some of the steroids did adjust testosterone levels, so maybe they literally were getting off on this stuff.

Honestly, I'm curious about where this goes. Canseco clearly isn't bright enough to pull off this kind of lie. Do I think he's exaggerating? Yes. Do I think McGwire did steroids? Yes. Do I care? Well, they are a bunch of cheaters, but then again, when was the last time MLB cared what the fans thought?

So, I'll keep reading. If only because, according to Canseco:

"If you've picked up this book just for a few juicy details about which players I've poked... (***intentional awkward pause intended to build up homoerotic overtones***) ...with needles full of steroids, or what it was like when Madonna sat on my lap and asked me to kiss her, that's fine with me." (5)

Honey, It's Not That We Don't Love Each Other

It's just that you made Mommy tired of me and as a result, I don't get no play.

Blame it on:
God
genetics
environment
alcohol
Rob Alarcon
And now...
the kid
But, of course not...
Each other

Assed Out of $50

The Virginia House of Delegates recently passed a resolution that orders you to keep your pants up. It states as follows:

Any person who, while in a public place, intentionally wears and displays his below-waist undergarments, intended to cover a person's intimate parts, in a lewd or indecent manner, shall be subject to a civil penalty of no more than $50.

Which intimate parts, you ask?

"Intimate parts" means the genitalia, anus, groin, breast, or buttocks of any person.

No word on whether this extends to plumbers or the Greek God, Echidna. It does, however, technically allow ass-less chaps. And saran wrap, too.

Still, one doesn't pass a law like this unless it becomes a problem. Considering nobody likes Sisqo or the Thong Song anymore... Could this then because of an unknown belt lobby, throwing money at politicians?

Or perhaps a room full of baby boomers got tired of staring at what they couldn't get for less than $200 an hour and acted "accordingly."

These are the same people who advocated the "traditional marriage" license plates.

I just hope it was included in that Mexican pamphlet teaching illegal immigrants how to cross the border.

"Happy Lent, Everybody!"

Fat Tuesday (or as the French refer to it, Mardi Gras) is upon us.

That means tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the start of the annual guilt trip built into the Catholic Calendar known as Lent. Lent calls for Catholics to recall their sins and prepare for Easter. That means: purple, no meat on Fridays, and giving up one or more of my vices (intended to be forever, but after Easter, it's all good again).

At first, I didn't mind so much "giving up vices" cause when you're eight, you have not discovered alcohol nor pornography yet. "I won't eat Snickers" was an OK choice and contained no innuendo whatsoever. But now, I've got things to lose.

Heck, Mardi Gras itself calls for a night of debauchery and girls gone wild. Get it out of your system, and then pent it up till the next available opportunity to explode. Otherwise, you'll go blind and get hairy palms.

So, unlike New Year's, where most just resolve to not make resolutions, with Lent, I'll be pledging the following:

- I will not punt babies.
- Underwear goes outside the pants.
- I will not offer "sucks to your ass-mar" on weekdays.
- Don't stop till you get enough.
- Once you get enough, graciously stop.
- I will continue to not do atrocious things I didn't ordinarly have the ability to do (i.e. nuke third world countries, more cancer, propping up no-talent, big-breasted blondes).
- Nothing.

What's your opinion? We'd like to know.

They Almost Read Our Eu-googlies.

A lady called today asking about the casting office, namely, for names I'm not allowed to give. I explained that, she made a comment, I politely laughed. Then, she explained she's a motivational speaker and gave me this advice:

"Don't wait until the eulogy to say thank you."

You heard it here first, folks.

To the Mighty "K"asey...

Good luck, Dave.

The horror... the horror...

I did a bad, bad thing...

(ed. note: Before I go any further, I feel I owe an apology regarding Sunday's activities to all, but especially: the New York Mets and their fans, Sean Cloonan, that guy who came up to me on 5th Avenue in 2000 and got excited at my Mets hat, Mr. Met, anyone with functional brain cells, the Brooklyn Dodgers, and that eight-year old girl who said Jason Giambi was her favorite player.)

I got a call on Friday from a representative for Major League Baseball. "Are you available Sunday?" Yes I was. "We're working on a campaign trying to find baseball's ultimate fan as part of our 'I Live for This' campaign, to be held at Yankee Stadium this Sunday. Interested?" All I heard was "Major League Baseball." I signed on.

Then, I realized exactly what I got myself into on Sunday.

They weren't looking for the ultimate baseball fan. They were looking for the ultimate Yankees baseball fan.

Oh dear. Matty, Matty, Matty, what have you wrought?

Apparently, they're visiting the cities of the six 2004 playoff teams and finding the ultimate fan of those teams. And the Yankees, sadly, made the playoffs last year.

So, I spent my Sunday, 6AM onward, listening to Yankees fan profess their love to all things Yankee. I got to meet Bald Vinnie, the creator of the now-infamous Bleacher Creatures. I got to meet Freddie "the Fan" Schuman and his signature pan. I watched as Yankees press and others exploited a 23 year old female (yep, that's her on the NY Daily News.com website) for doing nothing but wearing clothes with the Yankee insignia and having large tits and an ass. And I spent the time being berated by a cold hearted Russian best summed up by the NYPD as raised by Ivan Drago himself.

If one thing came of this, though,,, it's that I would have 200+ subjects for an interesting study. A study into the Yankee fan's intelligence and attitude toward baseball, and here's what I came up with:

Each subject answered two questions:
1) What is your favorite baseball memory? We're not concerned with stats or play-by-play, but really in something that is your personal story.
2) Who is your all-time favorite Yankee?

And what did we learn:
- 1 in 5 Yankee fans think that Aaron Boone winning game 7 of the 2003 ALCS with a home run was their favorite baseball memory. This, despite the fact that the Yankees didn't win the World Series that year, and also that the Red Sox would avenge the 2003 ALCS in 2004 in a much more dramatic fashion.

And if I hear one more Yankee pine on about it, I'm going to have that person drawn and quartered.

- Far and away, Yankee fans picked one of three players as their favorite all-time Yankee:
1) Derek Jeter - picked mostly by little kids and ignorant parents
2) Mickey Mantle - picked exclusively by old-timers
3) Don Mattingly - picked by every person who said, "I'm no front runner, I'm a true fan. I rooted for the Yankees in the '80s" and then described Mattingly not as a good first baseman but really as a battle scar from a darker time.

- Other notable votes:
Thurman Munson (about a dozen - always followed by a moment of silence)
Lou Gehrig (3 or 4 votes)
Joe DiMaggio (1 vote)
Graig Nettles (1 vote)
Mel Hall (1 vote)
Reggie Jackson, Yogi Berra, Roger Maris, Babe Ruth, Whitey Ford, Catfish Hunter, Phil Rizzuto, Dave Winfield (0 - that's right, ZERO - votes)

- Despite being provoked by the YES Network "anchor" about the Boston Red Sox ("yeah, I know, but what I want to know is what do you think about the Red Sox?"), most Yankee fans don't have a clue about the Sox. Quotes overheard in interviews to local press:
"The Red Sox, to me, always seemed kinda skeevy."
"They're such sore winners. When Boston won, they just ran down into the stands and started hitting people."
"They didn't win the Series. The trophy's ours. We just loan it out."

- Also overheard during "casting":
"Yankee fans are the smartest fans in the world."

Horseshit.

- Two Major League Baseball officials mistook my Brooklyn Dodgers cap for a Boston Red Sox cap. One MLB official gave me a Boston Red Sox bumper sticker. I was then ordered to take the hat off so as not to offend anybody.

I left my dignity in the Bronx and $100 richer. Greta (aka Ivan Drago - Greta was the name given her by the NYPD that day) can't hurt me anymore. And Yankee fans... well, at least some things never change.