When pressed to account for his actions, Mr. Dogg had the following statement.
I just hit the eastside of the LBC
On a mission tryin’ to find Mrs. Nate Doggie.
Seen a car full of girls aint no need to tweak
All you skirts know whats up with 213
Um, so who can argue with that, right?
What is Nate Dogg doing stalking his wife, anyway? Doesn’t he see her like all the time? I mean, when I stalk people it’s usually someone that I wouldn’t see all the time unless I was… you know, stalking them. Or something.
But I think it’s best that we leave Megan Fox and the hot chick who works at Pier 1 out of this. Let’s all just concentrate on Nate Dogg and hope he beats this rap so he can get back to letting his gat explode then turning his mind back into freak mode and stuff.
The blizzog is saddened to note the passing of comic great Harvey Korman, who died yesterday at the age of 81.
I first discovered Korman as a kid while watching “The Carol Burnett Show” with my parents. But I didn’t really understand the depth of his comic genius until he starred as Hedy Lamarr (”that’s HEDLEY!”) in my favorite movie of all time, “Blazing Saddles“. His turn as the scheming land-snatcher (”see: snatch”) is one of the best parts of the film and the standard by which all comic bad guys should be judged.
Apparently the vacuum system that sucks the doodie away from you so it doesn’t float all up in your business isn’t working. According to the NASA status report (emphasis mine)…
“While using the toilet system in the Service Module, the crew heard a loud noise and the fan stopped working. After some troubleshooting the crew reported that the air/water separator was not working.”
Heh. The crew “heard a loud noise” and the fan stopped working. I’ve been there, brother. Only when I do it I just go grab a plunger and take care of business. I’m not stuck in a space RV orbiting around the planet with two other dudes who now can’t take a dump for 10 days. Bad times.
I wonder who did it? The three guys they mention in the article are named Sergey, Oleg, and Garrett. My money would be on Oleg Kononenko. That just sounds like the name of a big dude. Like the kind of dude that could clog a space toilet.
I bet the other two guys were giving him shit at first, pun totally intended. “Hey, Oleg. Maybe stop after one bowl of space chili next time, eh?” That would be funny for at least a few days… or until I had to rock a Number 2 and couldn’t, whichever came first. Stupid Oleg.
Luckily these guys have another toilet they can use, but it only has limited capacity. After that’s full? Well, the article mentions these things called Apollo bags, which are “bags with sticky openings”. Riiigggghhhtttt.
If I’m stuck in a cramped little bathroom in space and the only defense I have against turds floating up in my grill are “bags with sticky openings”, then I think it’s time to get resourceful and look for better alternatives. All I’m saying is that if I were Oleg, I’d check my pillowcase before I went to sleep.
I went home to Ohio this weekend to visit my parents and sister and to visit with my two grandfathers, ages 81 and 89. It was great to see everyone.
My parents have lived in the same house since 1988, when I was 13 years old. After we got home from dinner on Friday night, I walked down our driveway to pick up the mail. I don’t know if it was the pink light of dusk or the warm spring air or the fact that I’ve just rolled over my 33rd year on life’s odometer, but as I took a glance up and down the street I was hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia for a time long past: those first few summers that I spent in that neighborhood and the things we used to do.
I remembered the friends I had who lived there and the things we used to do together. From watching old Bruce Lee movies at JJ Johnson’s house, to listening to countless Rush albums at my drummer friend Scott Ross’ house, to listening to “Straight Outta Compton” for the first time at my next-door neighbor and friend Jenna Sammons’ house while our parents were at work and feeling like I was getting away with something, to the seemingly endless spring and summer nights we spent playing basketball in my lopsided super-steep driveway; they all came back to me in a flash, and it was wonderful.
They say that youth is wasted on the young and adults are always telling kids that those younger years are the best of your life, but I’ve always thought that was utter and complete bullshit. I think your life is what you make of it in the moment that you’re in, and I like to think that I still have my best years ahead of me.
But I tell you what… walking down that driveway Friday night as the sun was setting and the air was warm with that first hint of summer, I would’ve given anything to walk down to Scott, Jay, and JJ’s houses and put together a game of 2-on-2 that would’ve lasted until the combination of waning sunlight and the two 75-watt bulbs on either side of our garage door weren’t enough to let you see the rim anymore.
Those were definitely good times. And I miss them.
I am not at all embarrassed to profess my man-crush (or is it boy-crush?) on Davidson’s Stephen Curry. This kid is simply amazing. He has single-handedly made this my favorite NCAA tournament in years. He is going Randolph Childress on the entire field. Insane.
It’s crazy to think that all of the ACC schools passed on this kid. I love Wayne Ellington as much as the next die-hard Heels fan, but I’d kill to have Curry at UNC playing the 2 this year.
Who cares if he has more points in the tournament than chest hair? He’s no boy. Stephen Curry is the freaking man!!! Go Wildcats!!!
I couldn’t let this great weekend of college basketball slide without thanking the Dookies for making this yet another great birthday weekend for me. Thanks again for putting the full measure of your infinite suckitude on display for the nation to see for the fourth straight year in a row.
Four years, you say? Why yes, I do. However did I arrive at that number? I arrived at it thanks to this handy Performance Against Seed Expectations (PASE) chart courtesy of ESPN’s own NCAA tourney stat guru Peter Tiernan.
The chart basically lays out the expected number of wins a team should have based upon it’s seed in the tournament, from a high of 3.36 wins for a #1 seed to 0.00 wins for a #16 seed.
Did you realize that over the last five years Dook has been seeded #2, #6, #1, #1, and #1? According to the chart we should expect 13.77 wins for Dook during this stretch. Guess how many they actually have?
Nine.
Nine wins. A full 35% below the number of wins an average team would have in the tournament over the same stretch. The only reason they are even that good is because of their run to the Final Four in 2004 where Everybody’s All America JJ Redick shot a whopping 4-12 from the field en route to an utter waxing at the hands of the eventual champion UConn Huskies.
The numbers don’t lie. When it comes to putting their money where their mouth is, Duke is an utter joke over the last five years. Hopefully the selection committee is going to wake up and stop rewarding them these high seeds until they can prove that they actually deserve them.
And before you start with me, Carolina has been seeded #1, #1, #3, #1, and #6 over the last 5 years. This year isn’t over yet because UNC actually kicked the living crap out of both teams they played this weekend instead of being an errant pass away from losing to a #15 seed and then losing handily to the #5 team in the Big East. That said, we won’t know yet how Carolina will play against its seed in 2008. Over the last 4 years they should have 9.77 wins and they have 11, six of those courtesy of the 2005 National Championship. Werd.
If you count this year, Carolina should have 13.13 wins since 2004 by the time the 2008 tournament is over, and they’re at 13 through this weekend, so a win over Washington State this week puts them ahead of the game. So if they lose on Thursday, you can come back and tell me that they’re overrated too… .01% overrated, mind you, not 35% overrated. But I digress…
Anyway, my point as usual is that Dook sux and Carolina is teh rulez. Good times.
A French university has released a study concluding what I have long suspected: you should never, ever, under any circumstances mess with me because - as a left-hander - I will kick your ass.
The study says that we southpaws have the advantage in brawlin’. It also says we have the advantage in fencing, tennis, and baseball; three sports which I of course never took up. Way to think it through, Jamie.
No, instead I had to play basketball. Spoiler: I always dribble to my left because I have no handle. Spoiler #2: If going to the left doesn’t work, I go to the left some more. It’s true. Ask Jigga.
So back to this ass-kickin’ thing: If you look past the fact that this report on fighting was conducted by a French university and that I’m more likely to defend myself in a fight by hoping my opponent won’t want to hit a guy in the back as he’s running away and crying like a little girl, then I think it’s safe to conclude that I’m a friggin’ bad-ass and you should step the hell off.
Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to Dick’s Sporting Goods to buy a racket, a catcher’s mitt, a foil, a croissard, a plastron, and a mask.
Much love to Fake Steve Jobs for bringing me to this new level of musical enlightenment. I honor the place where your video-finding skills and my lust for nasty, bad ass, yodel-your-friggin’-face-off Dutch rock become one.
