Sunday, August 31, 2008

Ohio State 43, YSU 0


(Jessica is 18.)


By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

The above girl goes to community college near Arizona State. She might be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and would give up 10 years of my life for three or four dates with her. I'd give up five years for one date (with a guarantee she'd put out).

I bring this up because I saw The 1 yesterday after 63 days (nine weeks). It was fantastic to see him. He was wearing an Arizona State hat and will be heading out to ASU on Thursday, Sept. 18. He'll be going to the Georgia-ASU game (football).

The 1 gets Week 1 MVP Honors. He brought us back to The Tailgate Behind Tommy's Pizza (TTBTP ... BTB for short). But first, here's some more pictures of Jessica and friends.


(Skinnier than Art McGregor ... combined.)



(They are good at being hot freshmen.)

BTB is the new VC. I thoroughly enjoyed The Varsity Club, but BTB had free food, free beer, a television, nice people and good looking women. Also free food and free beer. The trio from the get go included The 1, the Truth and Art McGregor. Disappointed I didn't see the rest of The 1's posse that includes His Girlfriend (blog name), Three Clicks (formerly Toe), Powder, Johnny K and Hot D. Anytime I see Hot D, he will be MVP of the Week. He's the guy who asked me to write his autobiography. He also implored people to "flip that shit" when buying houses and doesn't know what that means.

Before I recap the day, I need to say how great it is to get back into Seeing The People You Normally See During Football Season. Guys like TUG and T-MUG (Tall More Unfriendly Guy) and chicks like Sis, Gahannastan and the rest of their group. Also known as The People I Used To See All The Time At Club 185 In The Winter And Fall Of 2006. Also saw TD Hoodie and Peaches at The Varsity Club and beyond.

Anytime we end up at Four Kegs things are not good. Had lunch and our fantasy football draft today at Planks on Whittier. the Truth (not in the league but at the draft) and I were legit surprised to hear we went to Four Kegs. It wasn't a wise choice. We did a Jager Bomb there. I think that was the Truth's idea. I also ran into a girl from college who thinks I'm crazy and/or stalking her. I remembered her first and last name, what classes we had together and where she went to high school. I think I talked to her twice in college. I always sort of hope I run into this hot Jewish chick named Brittany (spelling?) from college. I haven't since our last JCOM 315 class in Fall 2000. She was a big Gore supporter (obviously) but I don't let that bother me. Maybe I'll see her next week. That would be tits (even though her's were small). As you can tell with Jessica, I am not a boobs guy even though people have called me a boob. Actually they haven't. But being called a boob would be funny.

I think we got to Four Kegs around 10 p.m. It could be anywhere from 8 p.m. to 11 p.m. I made it home at 1 a.m. after eating 32,212 peanuts at a random party. After The Godfather climbed to the top of a dirt mountain on 16th Avenue, I celebrated by falling on the pavement and banging my head ("I could hear it" - The Godfather) on the sidewalk. It still fucking hurts.

We ate in the ballpark of 20-25 beers apiece. I also ate a ball park hot dog. I'm not a beer-counter-guy but I had about eight at the tailgate, seven or eight more at the Varsity Club, two or three at B-Dubs, two or three at Four Kegs, a Jager Bomb and then a couple more walking down the street and at various parties where girls kicked us out. No one likes to see that.

Day started out innocently enough. Drove to the game with The Godfather and a German, High School Foreign Exchange Student. Met up with The 1 at BTP at around noon. He said I looked great and "not skinny enough." I missed The 1 and the way he asks questions and says things. His take on Sarah Palin? "Is this lady girl really ready to be president." He still claims to be an "undecided" voter.

Got to love T-MUG and the tailgate. Had a great time. Genuinely nice people that are fun to talk to. I could just text this to The 1 but I'll say it here instead: Remind me to give you a case of Miller Lite for next week. I'll be there in the third quarter of the OSU-OU game. And maybe for a beer or two beforehand.

For all the making fun of frat guys I do, they get the hot chicks. Most girls at this tailgate were hot. That's amazing. Free beer, hot women (I think I referred to them as "Stepfords" although that's kind of derogatory) and Wavy Lays Potato Chips. Yum to all of the above.

Additional props to Sis for rocking the light hair. Loved it. Almost made up for not seeing Hot D. Almost. Didn't like her light blue shirt though. Shirt was fine but light blue? I know you're not an OSU alum, but come on. Support the team.

the Truth had many Truth-like comments on John McCain and other things. His reason for McCain's trouble at raising his arms? "They didn't have the good candy when he was a little kid. You know he's probably eating black licorice and rhubarb flavored things."

Headed over to The VC around 4 p.m. Loved the crew there. Saw TD Hoodie and Peaches. Peaches looked awesome. Sweet sunglasses, kick ass hair, cool T-shirt. Girl has style. Hoodie had a tight T-shirt on.

I'm kind of worn out telling this story. Need a break. OK, back.

I didn't really take a break there. But you can't tell that.

How we got to B-Dubs, I'll never know. Did we take a helicopter? Police escort? Cab? Walk? Probably the latter. Ran into Rainbow Bright and others. Headband wasn't there. Huh?

Saw a friend of a girl I used to know. She said, "I'll tell her you said hi." I said, "don't do that."

1. I didn't say hi.
2. I thought it was funny to not say hello. It seemed wise at the time.

Stayed at B-Dubs for awhile. Good chatting with Rainbow Bright, as that's what we do in football season. The Godfather's brother, the Mathlete, also was around. He added to fun.

I can't believe we didn't see The Mayor. I loved the group yesterday though. It was good Truth, happy The Godfather, fun Mathlete and Mathlete's underage girlfriend. I like having her around because it increases our chances of seeing other underage girls.

Then we marched around campus doing stupid shit and climbing dirt mountains, and tackling each other and ripping our shirts off and eating things and smoking funny things (oops ... Kid Rock reference).

The area over my left eye is killing me. Fuuuck. I am dead. I feel like shit. The 10,000 french fries I ate at Planks are not helping.

the Truth wants to go out tonight but I think I'll pass and just have a few drinks here. Some will be water.

I cannot fucking believe how much fun we had yesterday. Looking forward to next week.

And maybe running into that Britney (spelling?) girl.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Cue the Alice in Chains: It's over now


By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

It's been said before around these parts: "The Godfather and Art McGregor share the same brain."

We'll get into that in a minute, but first I have a confession. I had a dream about McCampus last night.

Usually, I don't discuss my dreams. I keep those to myself. They're about the only thing I keep to myself. Also, I keep my wallet to myself. And its contents.

I don't remember the particulars, but it involves the High Bar (Olympics gymnastics event ... picture above) and McCampus being a dare devil on a makeshift apparatus. Well, the first time, he sticks the landing. The next time, he misses and plummets about 40 feet to the ground. We rush to his rescue where he's endured a few minor injuries. It's a miracle.

That said, I was going to write about the Yankees today. They are FINISHED. They are as far out of first place as the Indians. That's just pathetic. Paulie Byrd, for the second time in two seasons, has finished the Yankees off. No Yankees in the playoffs for the first time since 1993. FOX, ESPN and TBS are lobbying to add additional teams to the playoffs. The Tribe, fresh off its Olympic championship, won their tenth straight game. If they win 29 more in a row, they could sneak into the playoffs. Impossible. BUT (you knew there'd be one ... although I prefer the butts right around the two decade old mark), they've got a really easy schedule in the next 17 games with seven against pure-stink Kansas City, four against pure-stink Baltimore and three against pure-stink Seattle. They've also got three against the White Sox with Lee and Carmona pitching at home. Stranger things have happened!! (On drugs paragraph.)

It's Thursday morning and I'm happy. It's obviously still raining but hopefully it stops soon. My cable went out last night and that's the final straw. I am switching to DirecTV tomorrow afternoon.

Not sure what the weekend (pre-Buckeyes game) entails. I haven't drank since Saturday night, which is probably my last four-night non-drinking streak until next spring. I can't imagine ever going more than three days in the fall, with NFL football, days off and boring Tuesday nights when I need to drink.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

The 'real' Redeem Team


By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

The 2008 Cleveland Indians are "Olympic champions." Gold medal, baby.

(I'll take what I can get.)

They went 13-3 from 8.8.08 through this past Sunday. They won more than Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt combined. (13 to 11)

No other MLB team had a better record during that time.

While the Cincinnati (Ky.) Reds are winners of the "Ohio Cup" we'll head back to northeast Ohio this weekend with the made-up title of "Olympic champion."

I'd rather win on the world stage than some meaningless "state" title.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

'Jonesing' for a milkshake


(Seth in 2005. Last known photo.)

By MISTERTRENDY
Blog on the run senior writer

Try as I might, I’ve been unable to keep Seth out of my columns. For those who don’t know him, Seth is this friend I met in college at OSU. He was not enrolled at the time, but he hung out with a bunch of people I knew from South Campus and blah blah blah.

Anyhow, I can’t help featuring Seth this week, because what he did on Saturday needs to be made public. See, Seth gives me a call on Thursday. He doesn’t even say hello…just says “hey man, wanna crash a wedding Saturday?” I was, of course, appalled at the thought. Seth wouldn’t back down though, claiming he knew of a wedding taking place in Bexley that was huge so we’d blend right in. Of course, leave it to Seth to not think it’s weird for two dudes to go to a random wedding in Bexley. He claimed he had “Bexley cred.” Well, missestrendy was having none of it, so I told Seth I’d be his DD, but that’s it. Seth was down with the offer.

So, I pick Seth up at 4 on Saturday, as he insisted he didn’t want to miss the 4:30 ceremony for fear of blowing his cover. I show up at Seth’s parents house and there’s Seth, sitting on the couch shot-gunning Pabst. Seth is still unshowered and wearing a New York Jets sweat suit. That’s right. A sweat suit…not just sweat pants or a sweat shirt, but a sweat suit…in the middle of summer….drunk…wearing a Mets baseball cap. I’m a tad pissed because missestrendy wanted to go to an early dinner and I told her not to worry. I should have known better.

Well, no surprise here, but Seth was not “feeling” the ceremony portion and asked me to PBR him ASAP while he got ready. I went to the fridge to find no beers. Seth claimed I owed him for not going to the wedding with him, so I made a beer run and picked up a six pack of Red Stripe. Seth only drinks Red Stripe when someone else is buying. Luckily, I was able to convince Seth to head to the reception hall early to score a good table instead of lounging around at his parents’ house pounding Jamaican beers in used bottles.

This is where it got crazy. We pull up to this reception place, and Seth is getting’ into his pre-game mode…spraying Axe body spray all over the place and practicing his lines to chicks (his personal favorite “hey baby, wanna pay me for sex?”). I said to him “ok, Seth. I’m outta here. I’ll pick you up at 11:30.” Seth replied “nah loc, you best pick me up at ‘the bar’ at 2:30.” I just nodded and said yes, knowing full well Seth would probably call at 9:30 after getting kicked out of the reception.

At 7:30, I get a call from Seth. He was slurring his words big time, but I thought I heard him say “it’s a cash bar, it’s a cash bar” over and over again. Leave it to Seth to crash a cash bar with no cash. He’s practically crying on the phone telling me how he borrowed $100 from some chick he wants to bang and needs me to come to the hall and spot him a couple hundred. Trying to be a good friend, I reluctantly go to the hall and meet him in the parking lot. There’s fuckin’ Seth, standing there with a group of 80-something year olds smoking pipes. I’ve never seen so many pipes. Even the grandmas were smokin’ them. I slowly approach the group, knowing this was going to look weird. As I walk up, Seth screams “hey hey, this is the guy I was tellin’ you about. ‘Mr. PBR’!” The elderly folks are crackin’ up, then Seth turns to one of the women and grabs her ass while screaming “Palestine!” I obviously wasn’t in on the joke and thought that was a just a tad creepy, but they were all drunk and smokin’ pipes of something, so I let it pass.

I pulled Seth aside and gave him $200 and started walking away. I was super pissed at this point. Seth shouts out “wait, I want you to meet this chick I’m gonna bang!” I don’t know what I was thinking, but I walked back in sheer curiosity. I walk back, and Seth points to this woman that had to be about 98. He introduces me to Gertrude and proceeds to lick the side of her face and whisper in her ear “I’m gonna bang you baby” while I try to make small talk and get the hell out of there. Well, Gerty was lookin’ a little weirded out but was hard of hearing so she didn’t catch Seth’s crude comments. Seth was just lickin’ the shit out of her face.

That’s when I caught it. Seth was reaching into this lady’s purse as he licked her face, stealing one dollar bill after one dollar bill. I was ready to call him out, but I just couldn’t.

That’s when I just bolted. I literally ran away, knowing that nothing good could come of the situation. Seth seemed pissed for about a second, but as I climbed back into my car, I looked back to see Seth running in the other direction with a pipe in one hand and Gertrude’s purse in the other. The old people just didn’t know what to do. No one was even chasing him, but there was Seth, bolting up Main St. I knew where he was headed. That’s right, Capital University.

I didn’t have time to stick around, because by now missestrendy had texted me about 100 times wondering where the hell I was. Well, you can probably guess what came next. Seth calls me from the Graeters on Main claiming he’s “jonesing” for a milkshake but has no cash. I was not making another trip back to bail him out, so I told him to fuck off. Needless to say, I haven’t heard from him since. If you’ve seen or heard from Seth, please comment. To my knowledge, his whereabouts are unknown.

Friday, August 15, 2008

E-mail from Rod Munch

I have a buddy. We'll call him Rod Munch. He lives in Minnesota and works for FOX. Great job. Good dude. Four-time emmy winner.

The Godfather knows him.

Here's his review on "Pineapple Express" and other thoughts:

"dudes...pineapple express is the funniest movie ever. if you haven't seen it, do it. right now. i will probably watch that movie at least 100 times before i die. of course, being that i'm a loser with no girlfriend and 1 friend in minnesota, i'll probably accomplish that feat within the next year. at least then i could concentrate on all of the other things on my bucket list. like seeing sebastian bach live in concert. harris, you lucky bastard.

16 days until ysu gets its ass beat by osu. [mcgregor]...remember when i used to argue with you back in the day about how ysu could beat osu? how was i a valedictorian? did i spell that right? no, seriously. how did that happen? oh yeah...probably because i took all the easiest classes and picked 18 and life as my song in simington's class. i would have failed me just for picking a song that literally anyone could explain just by reading the title. but instead...i got an a, went to college for free where i took the easiest major ever, and now i have 4 emmies. simey's getting a big shout-out when i win #5.

see y'all next weekend. peace."
- From the desk of Art McGregor

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

SWM seeking Slush Puppie machine



(Notice what flavor he's drinking. Yeah bitches.)

  • Maybe the Tribe's just in the wrong division. With a win against Baltimore last night, the Indians improved to 16-8 against the AL East this season. Or maybe they just suck. Probably the latter. Regardless, a fun game to follow last night and anytime your favorite team wins - no matter how bad they are - it feels good.


  • Spent another evening in Newark writing for the Cape Cod Times last night. Enjoyed the game. It's pretty good baseball (16-18 year olds) and it WAS a perfect night for baseball. That's something the old timers in the press box must have said 431 times.

    My favorite press box story from the past few years took place at Marion-Franklin High School here in Columbus. It ain't exactly the nicest facility, it was about 200 degrees inside (and cold and rainy outside), there were flies all over the place and the windows kept fogging up. Thank God The Godfather joined me. Also, the field was so muddy that you couldn't see the numbers on any of the players jerseys.


  • Got this text from the Truth last night:

    "sat..qfm 96 Ohio best rack competition 8-10!!"
    I think I can, I think I can.

  • Had a Slush Puppie at the game. For a $1.50, you can't beat it. At some point in my life, I wil have a Slush Puppie machine in my house. I'd only need one flavor. Cherry. Sometimes I may mix it up with an orange (flavor, not the fruit) but 90 percent I'm rocking the red tongue.


  • Watched the Olympics with Miss July. She moves on Thursday morning. Who's moving in? Well ... and I'm not making this up ... likely it will be a character in the upcoming "Lion King" at the Ohio Theatre.

    Sounds about right.


  • - Compiled by Art McGregor

    Monday, August 11, 2008

    Glossary - Blinders


    Black Entertainment German Village Media (formerly German Village Media) had its busiest blogging month in August 2007.

    We've got a lot of new readers and I want to address something before tomorrow's mailbag.

    This post aptly describes "rocking blinders" and the aftermath of such a decision.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    I drink a lot of water

    By ART MCGREGOR
    Blog on the Run editor

    Sometimes I think I drink water out of boredom. Walk over to the water cooler, throw out a couple hellos, fill up and walk back to my desk.

    The Crystal Springs blue cups I use are 9 ounces. I have about 10 a day and that's a conservative estimate. I also make sure to use a new cup every time. And then I throw it away. F-You Algore.

    For some reason, my mom ALWAYS asks me "if I'm drinking enough water." I don't know why she does this. Maybe she's tied up with the water lobby. If one exists.

    I do always make it a point to buy bottled water that costs more than $1. The Godfather only buys the $.89 brand popular in Grove City.

    She seriously asks me almost every time we talk. It's not like I even dislike water. She asks it in the same way that she'd ask, "are you getting along with your sister?"

    So I wanted to find out how much water in a day you should drink. I get this article and of course it DOES NOT TELL YOU. Fuck all this math and what not. Just tell me "this is HOW MANY ounces you should drink a day." I am well over 100.

    I guess the number is around 70 ounces? That's pretty good. I am healthy. Yes.

    Long post about boring Patio-related stuff


    By ART MCGREGOR
    Blog on the Run editor

    I have a pair of shoes that I wear to work about 70 percent of the time. I wear sandals or tennis shoes on Friday and sometimes black shoes with a suit. They're also the brown shoes I wore to Club 185 every day between December 2007 and April 2008. I looked at them this morning and got mad. The weekend was over. It was time to put on my brown shoes.

    I really like this article by Pat Forde on ESPN.com today. I know it's silly to post links to ESPN.com, I mean, I know no on reads that site anyway, but he really captured the drama of that event.

    He said it best:

    What transpired during the final 50 meters was the stuff of Disney movies.


    "That event" is the swimming relay last night. I think most people are talking about it today and it's probably "the event" of these Olympics. I watched most of the coverage last night with 16-ounce cans of Miller Lite and Miss July. She knows her stuff about gymnastics. I had forgot about Kim Zmeskal. I was more of a Shannon Miller fan. Not so much anymore. We talked at length about the sport and the 1992 women's team. I gander I know more about Olympics gymnastics than any 29-year-old straight male out there. Save your commentary.

    I'm usually let down by sports on Sundays. Yesterday, I went to bed pretty happy. The 16-ouncers didn't hurt there.

    I just feel like I should have an aunt or an uncle who has a swimming pool out near Newark in Jacksontown. You ever driven north on Route 13 toward Newark on a summer Saturday afternoon around 4:30 p.m.? It's a nice drive. Newark is beyond shitty (I had no idea), but the drive there is nice. I need to get on having an uncle out there with a pool. That's a big priority today.

    I had lunch at El Vaquero on Saturday afternoon. It set the stage for a day I'll remember as "As Good as it Gets."

    Great lunch, Tribe win, take in a baseball game, write about said baseball game for a newspaper in Cape Cod, get told by the sports editor there that I have "good stuff," watch the Olympics, watch UFC for the first time and close down The Patio. Oh yes.

    In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a team player but I love team sports. I have little interest in individual sports like tennis, golf and boxing. But I walked away impressed with the UFC. I watched it in a fun setting. Perhaps that's why I enjoyed it. Crammed into The Patio's inside bar, I watched three or four matches with a few hundred meatheads with additional Affliction shirts in their closets. I saw a bunch of people I knew (NOT McCampus or The 1 I USED TO KNOW) and had a couple handfuls of beers. I'm not a big action movie guy and I don't like fighting, but I will make it a point to watch those UFC events from now on. Next one is September 6.

    Another thing I really liked about this weekend happened on Friday. I was looking at the college football television schedule and I started to picture that first OSU home Saturday on August 30 (19 days away!). Go to the game, watch Utah play Michigan in the blaring sun at the Varsity Club, say like 30 times that I "kind of want to watch LSU and Appalachian State," head to B-Dubs or Out r' Inn (no clue why) around 8 and then watch other games at a campus location, or EGG and inevitably Club 185. Home football Saturdays are the seven best days of the year.

    I had a couple of work things yesterday and the day absolutely flew by.

    Yes, I already am looking forward to next weekend. But I'll miss this past weekend.

    Friday night I went to The Patio with NJAG after eating about 7,000 of her tostitos. Her line of the night? "You smell like tostitos." Yes. When you eat 6,500 of them, that's bound to happen. She told me McCampus would meet us there. I told her "there's about a 2 percent chance of that happening." We ran into an old friend from The Dispatch and My Boy Whit. My Boy Whit owns it. He came out with his "APS." It's an affliction-type, velvety shirt that he calls his "ass pulling shirt." I didn't wear RESPECT this weekend but did rock NIKE on Friday night. No worries. You'll see RESPECT on Friday and NIKE likely on Saturday.

    NJAG left around 1 a.m. because she wanted something to eat from Club 185 and I ran into our old buddies from the EGG (Whatever it takes and Small Guy), and The Guy We Sing With. We again belted out classic tunes from the 1990s. Also making an appearance was every hot chick in Columbus.

    I really am going to miss these summer weekends. I could go to The Patio every night and I almost practically do. The singing, the scenery, the setting.

    I don't want to miss a thing.

    Listened to "Milli" by Lil' Wayne earlier today. He calls himself a "venereal disease," rhymes Nigeria with criteria (how Olympics of him) and says "shy girl changed her name to my girl." Other than having the most annoying background sound of all-time, it's a great song. I listened to that rolling into work.

    There's no reason why I typed out that last paragraph other than thinking it'd be something I'd put on this blog.

    Also, there's no fucking chance that a picture of Helen Hunt ever will be on this blog again.

    The talking heads Olympics


    By MISTERTRENDY
    Blog on the Run senior writer

    All this fervor in Beijing (due primarily to Rowdy Gaines’ stellar commentary on the endless pool that is the Pool Cube) has me thinking how cool it’d be to have an Olympics-style competition amongst television political commentators.

    Talking

    Hands down, the favorite in the talking competition is Ron Brownstein. The guy is fast and witty, albeit ultra-Sethy and liberal. Nonetheless, when that person came up with the whole “are you listening, or waiting to speak” saying, they were thinking of Brownstein. What’s remarkable is that, despite lacking an upper lip, Brownstein manages to cram more words in a 10-second sound bite than The Mayor crams people in his kitchen during a hop-skip spring party.

    Bastardly

    This one is actually a tighter competition than you might think. In ’04 in Athens, Bill Kristol was the odds on favorite and didn’t disappoint. His snarky remarks, constant smirks, overall zany disposition, and ghetto booty just screamed “bastard.” That said, and as much as it pains me to say it, Keith Olbermann is giving Kristol a run for his Seth-like money in ’08. Olbermann doesn’t even try to be fair. His “I’m a wealth-redistributing badass and I don’t give an F what you think because I used to work at ESPN” attitude has raised some eyebrows (Keith’s are painted on) in many circles. The edge still goes to Kristol, but the old man may have spent his last days atop the Hill after these games conclude.

    Smelliest

    Even though she’s not a commentator, per se, the smelliest person in all things news has to be Greta Van Susteren. Granted, no one has ever actually smelled her, but there’s a reason she had nose reduction surgery. The source of the stench is unknown, but if the stank don’t fit, you must acquit.

    Biggest Jowls

    This event is always a fan favorite, mainly because competitors stand up on stage and shake their heads back and forth to demonstrate the breadth of their jowls. Brit Hume is the reigning champion of the jowls, and I have no reason to doubt that he will win again this year. Many in the know have noticed a chilly relationship between Hume and Lou Dobbs lately and wondered why. Jowls, my friends. Dobbs has been making a push lately by laying his jowls on top of one of each of his guests’ faces. He calls it “jowl bagging.”

    Nappiest Facial Hair

    Rumor has it that in 2006, Jeff Birnbaum and Wolf Blitzer had a “comb off” to see whose facial hair was more robust. Blitzer cheated, ala Seth, by combing the back of his neck in addition to his beard. Listen, Blitzer has been a force of nature, with coverage from ear to ear … but Birnbaum has re-invigorated the sport with his insistence on the over-sized porn stash. Although never fair or smiling, the robot Blitzer gets the nod here.

    mistertrendy's column runs every Monday.

    Good weekend

    One of the best weekends ever. I loved that swimming relay final.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    Friday, August 8, 2008

    Jim Rome kills

    Jim Rome is my favorite sports personality. He might even be ahead of Chuck Klosterman in my "Favorite Males Alive" rankings.

    I love his take on the Brett Favre situation.

    Hilarious.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    Thursday, August 7, 2008

    'Going on for centuries'


    By ART MCGREGOR
    Blog on the Run editor

    My cousin Evan dropped by yesterday to talk sports, girls, rap music and drugs.

    Born of the 20th century, these are topics that most of us discuss. You see, he's 8. His date of birth is December 1999.

    He opined that Lil' Wayne definitely does drugs, but Jay-Z doesn't because "Jay-Z doesn't swear as much."

    He thinks the Pirates stink but understands why they traded Xavier Nady. "Those two younger guys they got could ONE DAY become really good, right?"

    He still wonders about this little girl that sat next to him this past October during the Michigan State-Ohio State game. "What was her name again? Ashley?"

    I like that he knows his shit about sports. I mean, he really knows it. Knows the players and the uniforms and wonders "where Beanie Wells lives?"

    But he gets that knowledge from playing hours and hours of video games. He doesn't usually go to bed until 3 a.m. and drinks Red Bull after midnight.

    He'll be in the third grade later this month.

    We had a good time. Went to this park next to my sister's place in Lower Arlington, 43220.

    But it's a park. They have slides and swings and weird bars and climbing mechanisms. So when you have kids, you work all day, come home to a wife that doesn't let you do many fun things, and take your kids to a park where they do pointless activities and beg you to watch them when you'd rather be checking your cell phone for baseball scores? Wow. And this has been going on for centuries?

    Sometimes I just think I'm smarter than everyone else.

    I had to get fitted for a tux for my sister's wedding, so she can have kids and take them "to the park" during her only two hours of free time per day. I haven't worn a tux since July 31, 1987. True story.

    I missed out on bowling with McCampus, The Godfather and NJAG. That's a shame.

    Overall, a good week thus far. Haven't had a beer since Saturday night at the Street Festival in Chicago. That's a really good run for me. A better run would be from Chicago to Columbus. Even if that run was to Columbus, Indiana, it'd still be fucking far.

    I had spaghetti last night for the first time in about three months. Holy tasty. Back when we used to go to the EGG or I took dates to Easy Street Cafe, I'd order up some pasta with grilled chicken. Tryin' to be all classy and shit. Hmm ... I had pasta a couple Fridays ago at Betty's but it didn't have red sauce, so technically that's not spaghetti in my book.

    One thing I forgot to bring up about Chicago was that a lot of people go on dates. Like real dates. Like, "pick you up at 8!" George _ Bush TF?!??! Who does that? I knew we were in trouble when we got to The Doctor's apartment and his roomie AMOS, said "I am GOING OUT ON A DATE." And actually was serious. When we got back a little after 1 a.m., he was on the couch watching something lame on television.

    Probably thinking about a future that holds taking his future kids to the park on Wednesday evenings in August.

    Wednesday, August 6, 2008

    Used to eat breakfast


    (Potential breakfast trend in fall 2008?)

    By ART MCGREGOR
    Blog on the Run editor

    I'm happy to report that I slept last night without the aid of alcohol or sleeping pills. Fell asleep sometime after midnight, woke up at 7:30 a.m. It wasn't the best night's sleep, but very excited about that development.

    I got into work this morning and got this e-mail from NJAG (aka 'B'):

    Oh my goodness, they have been covering the Olympics every morning on the Today show. This morning there was a profile on this female weightlifter - but she wasn't big, she was little, like 5'1". Anyway, her story was so inspirational I cried. [McCampus] made fun of me for being excited about the Olympics - clearly he has not been watching the inspirational profiles on the Today show.
    (Emphasis mine. )

    I was up at 7:30 a.m. this morning and didn't watch either. I've now gone since about the second grade without watching Today. Back then I watched it daily. With my pancakes. On a little 13-inch color TV in the kitchen. As of Feb. 17, 2009, that television will no longer work.

    I ate a lot of pancakes back then. I can't remember the last pancake I ate. I used to go to Jack and Benny's all the time with my old girlfriend McBaltimore. The chocolate chip pancakes were amazing. I remember watching a Kurt Warner-led New York Giants team beating the Browns there in October 2004. I watched football at a pancake factory. That's sort of impressive, I guess.

    It's one of the more odd settings I've watched a football game. The other being Pittsburgh.

    Tuesday, August 5, 2008

    Tuesday afternoon mailbag III


    Welcome to Blog on the Run's third Tuesday afternoon mailbag. Here I'll answer questions from readers and non-readers about the week that was and anything else that might come across my mailbag.

    Q: You usually love something (The Patio) or hate something (Lindey's Patio). But you seem indifferent on Chicago. Love or hate? - Donna, Beverly Hills

    A: It's not a matter of love and hate with that city. I'm kind of disappointed I didn't spend more time there in my 20s. But I'm happy I don't live there. If I had to do it all over again, I'd spend two Saturdays per summer in the Second City going to Cubs games. I just loved it. There was a point when The Doctor wanted to go home to take a nap. I wasn't leaving. I'm a firm believer that if you're somewhere that's fun, you should never leave. That's why I don't like "starting nights at 185." If you know you're eventually leaving, there's little fun that can happen. I like to wear out my welcome. I just don't ever want to voluntarily leave somewhere to do something "later." I say "go on, go all out, go nowhere." That's sort of my motto when going out.

    But I couldn't live there. I'm really happy in a city the size of Columbus. I think I could live in any city outside the five largest in the United States, and of course, Baltimore.

    Fuck Baltimore.

    Q: Feelings on unsigned comments? - Brenda, Minneapolis, Minn.

    A: Not a huge deal. If the person can't sign their name to it, they just like sucking cock. I mean, they're not gay or anything but they enjoy sucking cock. There's a difference.

    Q: I've heard of falling in love with a stripper, which I'm sure you have, but you fell in love with an electrician in Chicago? - Dylan, Tijuana

    A: Yes. I did. I couldn't believe she was an electrician. Hottest one ever. She probably was 24 or 25 years old. I was standing at the Cubby Bear with my cousin Jamie when he said, "that chick keeps looking over at you." I walked over to her and talked to her one-on-one for about 30 minutes (I turned my blinders on) and then off-and-on for about an hour. The Godfather had a dance-off with her electrician/ballerina friend who kept taking her shoes off.

    I don't fall in love easily. But this girl had it all. The entire package. (In case you didn't know what "had it all" meant.) Now I'd say there have been five girls in my life that I've actually had real strong feelings for, well, The Electrician makes No. 6. I can't imagine being more into another girl before 2009.

    Q: The Godfather is going out of town this weekend. Are you sad? - Brandon, Boston on a summer internship

    A: Yes. Very. But it comes at a good time. We've got a lot of time to spend together until Christmas. He's gone this weekend, but following that, we'll likely spend every weekend together until December. I'm sure he cringes at that thought.

    We've got our last Friday Guyday of the season (pending McCampus' OK) on Friday, August 15. And then it's a wedding and 12 Buckeyes games, maybe a trip to Vegas, and fuckin' fun times until Christmas.

    I guess I can just add him to The 1 (I USED TO KNOW) and McCampus as people I won't be hanging out with this weekend.

    Q: Is The 1 dead? - Mrs. Walsh, California University

    A: I haven't seen The 1 (I USED TO KNOW) since Saturday, June 28. I have sent him maybe two or three texts since then with nary a response. I know The Godfather sent him a text on Thursday but he didn't respond to that one either. He's apparently gone into the "mistertrendy-when-I-start-dating-someone-I-stop-hanging-out-with-friends" mode. It's sad and I hope we see him a few times in August before NFL season starts.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    Face tats

    Blog on the Run correspondent Miss July recently filed this report about a lingerie store hostage situation in a part of the country near and dear to Dr. Willy Loman's heart.

    Rivera walked in to the business with what appeared to be a bomb, allowed two customers to leave and held a female store manager hostage, police Lt. David Sportsman said. Sportsman did not give any information about a motive or why Rivera targeted the store. ... Authorities did not find an explosive device. The false bomb was made with Play-Doh, batteries and wire arranged like an explosive. The arrest report said the man carried a fake gun.
    You see, Dr. Loman (formerly The Sport Writer) has filed one entry during his time on staff on this Web site so any and all news about his new redneck address will get play on Blog on the Run.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    Insomnia (not the Green Day album)



    By ART MCGREGOR
    Blog on the Run editor

    I likened our trip to Chicago this past weekend to hair metal. So it's not a surprise that I've started taking pills.

    I fucking love Motley Crue. When I think back to random good times, I always remember the summer of 1999. I lived in a crappy one-bedroom apartment ABOVE Buckeye Books with 400 Asians. I didn't have a computer. I didn't have a cell phone. I didn't know many people sticking around in Columbus over the summer. I would walk to Hollywood Video to rent VHS tapes. I had Showtime (but not HBO). I saw "American Pie." Later I'd see "Sixth Sense" at the new EASTON. I dated a girl for half of summer that would leave me crying messages on my ANSWERING MACHINE. I worked two jobs (helping someone write a book and working at The Office of the Treasury at Ohio State). I broke up with said girl after Derek Jeter had an game-winning RBI single in extra innings over Manny Ramirez's head. I went to Columbus Crew games.

    My memory of that summer is hanging out on 61 E. 12th Ave. with my buddy Misko. Misko's apartment was beyond dirty but always had the AC at about 60 degrees. It was frigid. He'd play rap and 80s metal and smoke pot. It smelled of pussy, malt liquor and weed.

    On days when I didn't work (usually three days a week), we'd drive to the public pool in Worthington and lay the mack down on 17-year-old chicks. Those girls are 26 today. Wow. We'd lay out, jump off the diving board, listen to our walkmans, whatever. Never without a joint, he'd drive us to the pool all the way up High Street blasting Motley Crue's "Shout at the Devil." His favorite song was "Bastard." Mine too.

    A couple of 20-year old yahoos, we'd peel into the swimming pool parking lot, windows down, blasting Motley Crue at the peek of their unpopularity. Afterward, we'd hang out at Happy Hour at Applebee's near Buckeye Village (I guess I needed a lot of Asians in my life). It's a top 5 summer of all-time.

    SUMMER RANKINGS

    1. 1992
    2. 2004
    3. 2006
    4. 2002
    5. 1999

    I am hesitant to put 2008 on that list because of this insomnia. It's real. I can't sleep at night without alcohol or a sleep aid. Last Wednesday night, I didn't sleep. Even with pills, I am sleeping just for three or four hours over a 10-hour span. It sucks. Pretty much all I think about during the day is whether I'll be able to fall asleep at night. I don't know anything about health insurance either. I am supposed to have some card. What the fuck. This sucks.

    I need some Ambien.

    I get so tired at night that I can't sleep. During the day I'm pretty much fine, but nights suck. I woke up at 6:55 a.m. today. I usually wake up way later than 6:55 a.m. central time. Do the math.

    I think I just need some more Happy Hours at Applebees.

    Monday, August 4, 2008

    The Veep Stakes


    By MISTERTRENDY
    Blog on the Run senior writer

    All the talk these days seems to be about whom Obama and McCain should pick as their VP running mate. Never passing up an opportunity to weigh in, I offer some suggestions this week to the two men seeking the presidency. My selections are from an elite pool of candidates – namely, true “Americans” (i.e., German Village residents).

    The Elite

    Tops on any list has to be the Truth. What better running mate for the Messiah than the Anti-Christ himself. The guy can garner support among moderates who believe in libertarianism, which would greatly assist Obama in his quest to gain the votes of the .00001 percent of voters who are still undecided. Bob Barr what? Obama’s weakness is foreign policy, and the Truth would deliver by bringing his experience as ambassador to the Hey-Hey to the table. I’m convinced that if asked, the Truth would respond with a “yeah” immediately.

    The thing about the Truth though is that he could be McCain’s guy too. McCain’s age is an issue, and the Truth could assist by bringing a youthful vibrancy, displayed repeatedly by his lust for all things shots (at Brothers). The Truth would also help shore up voters who fret over McCain’s economic prowess. If you buy a round of shots, you should do it early (during Happy Hour when everyone is drinking beers) and often (high volume, one tip for many shots). One lingering question mark about the Truth, however, would be his refusal to race the Mayor. No doubt, the guy appears to fear competing for a spot in the executive branch.

    Middle of the Road

    No discussion of a VP candidate for Obama can go without mention of The Godfather. I know, I know…you’re saying “but the Godfather hates Obama!” Get this though … he would help Obama shore up the remaining 4% of the African American vote (little known fact, but the Godfather loves Alan Keyes). Some might question the Godfather’s ability to lead in these times of crisis, but anyone who’s been at 185 when the vapids comprise 80 percent of the crowd would agree …the Godfather is a crowd pleaser who is capable of saving the day.

    The Unknown

    One candidate wouldn’t even be worth mentioning, but for the fact that he is so unknown. That’s right … McGinley (aka, ghost, lobster, dude with dog named Glimmer, Dubai Dubya, etc.). Many might question a choice like McGinley. No doubt he would not be a fit for Obama. But for McCain, it might work. His mastery of the magic undies could prove useful out West, where the undies are quite magical. Still, no one has seen his face for six months, almost as long as my own hiatus from America, causing many to question his dedication to the ideals of our nation.

    Bottom of the Barrel

    Seth. Yes, I said it. Seth. His unconventional ascension into American politics is little known and for good reason. Those who know him know his closet is awash in skeletons. Nonetheless, Seth possesses a zest for life and mint julips, which no doubt would assist either candidate in Kentucky. Seth has declared in recent weeks that he is not just “open” to accepting an offer to run for VP … he’s begging for it. In an effort to demonstrate his value to a campaign, Seth was in town for McCain’s visit to Schmidt’s. To demonstrate his credentials for VP, Seth ordered a round of shots and brought them over to McCain’s table. McCain seemed to enjoy Seth’s assertiveness, and the two downed a couple lemon drops in a sign of friendship. Rumors have spread, however, that Seth proceeded to order rounds upon rounds of shots for the entire restaurant, charging all of it to “the campaign” long past McCain’s exit from the establishment. When asked, the McCain comment offered no comment. Seth denies any wrongdoing, and in fact has asked that the McCain camp assist him in paying down his credit card debt, ala Hillary Clinton. Surely, Seth is bottom of the barrel, but with Lieberman’s apparent unwillingness to run, Seth would be a great 108th option to garner support among a group of voters long tied to the Democrat party.

    That’s it for this week. Peace.

    misterendy's column runs every Monday.

    The Electrician


    'Twas a wee bit of lost in translation. "It's a sports bar," The Godfather said.

    I've got to admit. There was a time when we looked at the menu at Ditka's around midnight on Friday night (ET) and steaks were about $45 and I thought, "it'd be so much easier to be at The Patio right now."

    This weekend's trip to Chicago got off to a great start. We made excellent time to Chicago. Less than six hours. Zero traffic in Chicago. Left at 1:56 p.m., got there around 6:45 p.m. (central time). We made one stop. Going with the trendys, the trip would have taken eight hours. They like to stop. If mistertrendy feels like he might have to piss within the next three hours, he stops. On the way home, I held a piss for four hours. trendy would have gone five times in that span.

    One note about traveling with The Godfather, don't ever tell him "we're making great time" or else he'll scream at you and remind you it's bad luck. He did a great job negotiating traffic and in the end, we made great time.

    Arrived at The Doctor's place and had some tostitos. Great salsa. Went over to The Godfather's friend's place in downtown. HUGE building. Nice apartment. I was lobbying hard for "dinner for two" (just The Godfather and this chick) and would rather have ate at Crust, this vegan hippie place or whatever near The Doctor's apartment. Turns out the girl was really nice and fun to talk to. So, we go to Ditka's, The Doctor meets up with us and all the menu items are like 80 bucks. Um. Sign me up for the $9.99 chicken finger dinner. We enjoy dinner and our waiter, Carlos, will be joining us for Thanksgiving dinner in Youngstown. Next, we go to a Chicago club named English. Not by the choice of me or The Doctor. It was just sorta blah, The Doctor and I talked about the upcoming Cubs game and then went home. Maybe half a thumb up for Chicago Friday night.

    Everythingchanged (homage to The Doctor's CHANGESONEBOWIE poster) on Saturday morning. The Doctor's brother, Jager Bombs, shows up. It's a shock to me that the Truth's nickname is not Jager Bombs, but he usually just wants to "bomb it up" and rarely calls them Jager Bombs.

    Driving home Sunday with The Godfather I commented about Jager Bombs, "he just has a face that makes you laugh."

    We left The Doctor's compound (49 steps up and down to his apartment) at about 10 a.m. (CT) and as soon as we got outside, Jager Bombs says "I can't wait to start drinking." After a great breakfast at Moonshine, we did just that. Got to Wrigley and just drank. Didn't slow down until 12:42 a.m. That's when we fell asleep. I think.

    I can't do a trip there justice. All's I can say is that I missed out. I'm ashamed that I waited until I was 29 to do a Cubs game. I'm sure most of the readers have experienced it, but a Saturday game at Wrigley in the summer is just like an OSU game. Bars afterward, before, chicks, making out, all that fun stuff. I also fell in love with a girl that doubles as an electrician. Like that's her job. After talking to her for about an hour, she left and I ended up making out with a chick that may be a tranny. I don't know. I just pretended she was the other girl.

    Other things happened. It was just so much fucking fun. I am leaving so much shit out that I'll probably eventually get to.

    Like I said, I can't do Saturday justice. It was a lot like 1980s hair metal. Loud, fast, didn't make a lot of sense ... totally fucking fun.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    Friday, August 1, 2008

    Patio'll miss you

    Patio did NOT disappoint last night. Except for B's (aka NJAG's) blatant Houdini.

    To The Patio:
    I can't get enough of your love, baby.
    I'll miss it this weekend. That's kind of funny. I'm going to one of the funnest cities in the United States, and I'll miss a bar that runs along a by-pass in Columbus, Ohio.

    Belated Happy Birthday wishes to Hoodband and good seeing all other people in attendance.

    I'll be in Chicago this weekend. Blogging will be sporadic.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor