Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Penises of America

"Dear Casey Carlson,

Stop being so hot.

The Penises of America"

The Godfather uttered this pledge-like plea moments before Casey Carlson took the stage. She didn't stop being hot but the "American Idol" hopeful stopped being talented. She sucked. I am saying she sucked. I have been blogging about this girl for a month and even I can admit she sucked. Keep in mind, I refuse to say LeBron James ever had a bad game. Just a bad "quarter," or a bad "42 minutes."

While Carlson probably envisioned this trip on "Idol" has her chance to get discovered; she crashed and burned, looked nervous (even before she sang ... I watched up her on the platform when the other participants had center stage) and will have to settle for just being another really hot chick. Being a "really hot chick" has its perks. She will get the benefit of the doubt every time for the rest of her life, get whatever she wants whenever she wants it and pretty much will have her choice of wealthy men.

"She's just got perfect tits." - The Godfather

I voted for her three times and hope she makes the final 12.

- From the desk of Art McGregor

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Rivlary Week ... sometimes

I know ESPN is excited to hype Wednesday night's Duke-UNC game (it's a rightfully-hype-able game) but they made an odd choice last night during "Big Monday."

Throughout the night, announcers Sean McDonough and Ron Franklin continuously said something along the lines of "Rivalry Week returns in two days with Syracuse at Connecticut and the big one, North Carolina at Duke."

Tonight's slate on ESPN features Michigan State at Michigan (a decent enough rivalry) and Florida at Kentucky. Florida and Kentucky have each won two national titles in the past 13 years. The two teams have just about won 25 percent of the national titles in the past dozen years. Florida played in the Final Four in 1994 and lost in the title game in 2000. Kentucky always makes the tournament. Plus they have been known to have a hot chick or two. That's a rivalry, is is not?

Why not say, "Rivalry Week continues in two days" instead of "returns ..."?

Good for UNC and Duke playing on a Wednesday night. I think all regular season college basketball should be played on Wednesday, Thursday or Saturday. I freaking hate Sunday games and Monday or Tuesday games just lack a certain amount of excitement for me.

Outside of Ohio State games, for whatever reason I really remember watching Duke-UNC games while in college. Nothing better than going to Panini's South on a cold Thursday night in February and watching the Cameron Crazies get after the Heels.

Dems were the days.

- From the desk of Art McGregor

About last boring night

  • Lots of people talk about ... "what's the first Super Bowl you remember watching?" ... or "first World Series?" ... or "first NBA Finals?" ... or "first Final Four?" .. or ... well, I'll remember my first "Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition."

    It was Paulina Porizkova in February 1985. I remember liking the issue. I was six. Kinda told me all I needed to know about myself.

    As for the other questions, everything pretty much happened during 1985. The first sporting event I really remember vividly watching was the Doug Flutie "Hail Mary" game the day after Thanksgiving in 1984 at my Uncle Dick's. We went bowling at North Side Lanes after the game.

    I remember listening to the Keith Byers v. Illinois game earlier that season on the radio and remember small tidbits of the Raiders win over the Redskins the Super Bowl earlier that year. I watched the Royals win the World Series in Fort Wayne, Ind. at some relatives.. I watched Villanova beat Georgetown over my buddy Misko's, and the Lakers beat the Celtics at some birthday party thing at my cousin Kevin's. Good times.

    None better than checking out the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. (This year's edition comes out today.)

    I didn't get my own subscription to SI until I turned nine. Here's the first one I ever got in the mail. I think it's the first time anything addressed to me came in the mail.

  • Watched "Rachel Getting Married" last night and liked it and didn't like it. Had some of the boringest, longest scenes I've ever seen in movies. The second half of the movie basically is the wedding day, with full songs from the reception being played and like 10-15 minute stretches where people are just dancing to music or loading the dishwasher. Entertaining movie but be prepared to fast-forward a ton of shit. The lead singer of TV on the Radio is the guy marrying Rachel and he's rather annoying as a Kanye West wannabe. If you like depressing movies that make you think, are about drug addictions, the death of children and have cool endings, go for it ... if not, you're not missing much. Anne Hathaway is hot. Oddly enough though, she doesn't play Rachel in the movie. She's Kym.

  • Enjoyed Missouri-Kansas in college basketball. Glad to see Mizzou get the W, although they'll lose in the first round of the NCAA tourney because they are the worst free-throw shooting team in America. That's not stats, that's just my opinion.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor
  • Friday, February 6, 2009

    Break-ups and make-ups

    I dated a girl in high school. She's exactly the type of girl you'd figure I would date back in the late 1990s. She liked sports, she was really smart, her parents were non-divorced, she was extremely thin and overall pretty average looking. Blonde, pale skin, tall, cute in a nerdy way. She was flat-out respectable. That's what I wanted. To be respectable. Not so much her.

    I broke up with her twice in the span of about a week in Feburary 1997. The last time I wrote a note and read it over the phone to her. Purdue played at Indiana in a Tuesday night ESPN game. My mom and sister couldn't believe I was going to do that so they listened to the call and nearly died of laughter. It was the end of that. Nothing against her, I just ... wasn't ... that ... into ... dating her.

    We had stayed in touch throughout the years ... maybe talking once or twice a year. History has treated her right. You wouldn't call her a hot chick by any means, but if she walked into a bar you'd probably think, "eh, she's pretty cute." the Truth would immediately want to set up a "solid date" with her.

    She messaged me on Facebook an hour ago and we made some small talk. She then told me she had a question to ask me and that she'd probably have to wait until she was drunk until she could ask. I immediately went into McGregor-mode which allows me to answer any question at all, totally honest while being totally flippant.

    "Why'd you break up with me in high school?"

    I gave her straight answers. It's pretty hilarious. Told her thegodshonesttruth that I had no interest having a girlfriend, how that much like now I'm not going to give a girl any time if I'm not head-over-heels about her, and that since we mostly just made out on her couch when her parents weren't home back then, the prospects of fun booty calling didn't exist.

    She laughed (I presume) and said, "too bad we're not having this conversation in person, so you could see this hotness when we're drunk."

    Was she admitting that she's only hot when drunk? Possible.

    I then asked her the only question that could make her wantable and/or hot.

    "I heard you were married?"

    She said, "your information is dated."

    The big D! Divorce Rock City!

    Bummer though. She would have been hotter had she been married.

    Rocked a "take care" and went on my way giving her closure after 12 years. She also told me I'm the only person who's ever dumped me. I think there are somewhere around 30-35 girls that have dumped me.

    Moved onto the Truth. He signed on Facebook and we started chatting, he said:

    how do I find all the people who sent me friend requests on this stupid thing?
    I explained to him and look at what happened:

    [Truth] and [McGinley] are now friends.
    The circle of life. The wheel of fortune.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    Tuesday, February 3, 2009

    When not to talk to folks at bars

    God Bless his heart.

    Just next time, make sure you can at least check if a guy wears his heart on his sleeve before poppin' a "hello."

    The Godfather engaged a lonely guy, sitting solo at The Little Bar in some conversation before the Super Bowl. The Godfather later admitted he really dropped the ball with that decision. He did.

    Hey listen, people go to bars all by themselves lots of time. Most of the time, these people are loser alcoholics.

    If I go to a bar 15 times a month, usually about twice I'll go solo. They happen. But I look approachable. I'm not weird. Nine times out of 10, I'll know someone at the bar and bullshit with them for three or four hours. It happens. I have no problems going to the bar by myself.

    I failed to mention in the first graph that The Godfather wasn't even sitting next to the guy. I was. The Godfather sat next to a decently OK, drunk Cleveland Browns fan. I'd call that kid normal.

    The Godfather asks the guy sitting next to me, "so, didn't I see you at Ted's the other day for lunch?" Mind you, this wasn't a hot chick. It wasn't some guy that he sort of knew and once again, this wasn't a chick. And it wasn't a hot chick. Also, The Godfather wasn't even sitting next to the guy.

    The guy then explains that yes, it was him. He said something inaudible and The Godfather laughed like I would if a hot chick told me something unfunny. Really hard.

    The guy then said, "so the next question would be, could I buy you a drink?"

    Well, then!

    The guy also had on a sleeveless red T-shirt and shorts. He was about 60 inches tall and hailed from somewhere in Asia and/or the South Pacific. He spoke broken English and asked The Godfather again for a drink and then asked me if I wanted a drink. He seemed upset and said, "Oh, so you're done drinking?"

    This was about 6:21 p.m. The Godfather and I knew what was up. This guy was flat-out weird. And we'd have to sit next to him for the rest of the game.

    I then sat there feeling a little uncomfortable as that gentleman kept looking over at us and just staring.

    Again, he was wearing a shirt with no sleeves, was at a bar alone and had a man purse. This did not stop The Godfather from trying to engage the guy in conversation.

    "I really dropped the ball there," The Godfather later would say. His face told the story of shame.

    Sleeveless Guy would later offer to buy another guy and then a woman a drink. They both declined. When bartenders told him they couldn't get him a Grey Goose dirty martini, he went to the bathroom and never came back. His man purse just chilled on the back of the chair for the rest of the night. He left a nearly full beer.

    About an hour later the Truth showed up and took his chair. Sadly, the Truth would take a sip of "warm beer." the Truth confused his Bud Light draft with the other guy's beer.

    That'd be a story to tell at a bar. Just don't tell it to the guy in the sleeveless shirt.

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    Monday, February 2, 2009

    Trip to IU, Part II

    Blog on the Run editor

    On Friday nights you can find me in the Club.

    The staff/roster at Club 185 on Friday nights this winter is probably my favorite since I started frequenting the bar on Oct. 21, 2005. Although the old Wednesday night duo in the winter of 2006 is probably "my favorite," the fact that it's four or five people on a busy Friday night is special. That said, I probably enjoy going to The Patio on Friday night (whatever the season) more.

    The Patio has figured it out. It's the one bar in the arena district that seems to be the least douchiest which is something amazing because it shares space with Sugar, the Afflicshirt capital of the world. They always have fun bands playing good cover tunes and the chicks are hot and rather friendly. The pictured girl was there and is probably one of the Top Five, Ten or 20 Most Beautiful Girls in Columbus That Hang Out In Bars In The Arena District.

    The Athlete visited us this weekend with a couple of his buddies. He made it clear that he wanted to "do anything but Club 185." We gathered in a cab van and headed to The Patio where my Patio Hook-Up (great girl) got us a table and free cover. We laughed, stared at hot chicks, drank beers, did some shots and I talked to a rather hot girl who told me she "loved my look." I wore that one green plaid shirt that I wear out at least twice a week. I am thinking it returns this Thursday at The Lodge Bar, although I wore it there this past Thursday and then again on Friday night. Saturday I went with a scarlet Ohio State T-shirt that got a lot of love from various people.

    We wanted to leave for IU on Saturday morning at 10 a.m. We left at 11:45 a.m. This is mainly because of the drinking the previous night, the ShamWow demonstration when we got home and an apple chucking contest in my backyard (in my bare feet with eight inches of snow on the ground). I smell a sick day!

    The ride to Indiana and back home went by so fucking quickly. When we got home, we vedged a bit before going to The Little Bar.

    I can't believe The 1 didn't show up at The Little Bar with us for last night's game. It almost reminds me of a boy-girl relationship (no offense) where one party needs the other party a lot more. I love The 1 and anytime I ask him about something or for something that doesn't require his presence, he does it in a heartbeat. But I'm bummed he couldn't make the Kings of Leon concert on Tuesday and then the Super Bowl on Sunday because they're shit we talked about for weeks, if not months, and you just never know if he's going to actually show up. He likely had good-to-excellent reasons for both decisions but it's frustrating. It's not like I'm going to stop asking him to do stuff because I like spending time with him. Like I said. It's almost like a boy-girl relationship and I'm the bitch in this relationship.

    I feel bad because McGinley posted some stuff about how few people ask him to do stuff anymore now that he's not drinking and I'm responsible for that as well. I haven't asked McGinley to do something since he's been back in November. I apologize for that.

    You can't fake crazy. Marshawn (Bills fan) and Screaming Steelers Fan were at the bar and it was absolutely amazing. There were about 10-15 obnoxious Browns fans there as The Godfather dubbed the place "Deadwood."

    There are no laws in The Little Bar.

    It's just a collection of yelling, shot taking, swearing, beer drinking with the best bar owner in Columbus and unfriendly, hot bartenders. Browns No. 82 wore a ripped Steelers T-shirt. She has still yet to engage me in any sort of conversation (my life's dream) but she did remember my last name on my tab after the fourth time she asked for it. Baby steps. We sat in the middle of the bar. We had like seven or eight beers and felt ZERO buzz. Not a good sign.

    You can't fake crazy. The obnoxious Browns fans were just a bit much. Yelling every five seconds and saying something funny just 9 percent of the time. That other 91 percent for four straight hours got to be a little much. The Bills fans during the regular season and Steelers guy are flat-out crazy (in a good way) and you actually laugh at the insane shit they say. Fucking hilarious. I can't do justice (with written words) to the Steelers guy celebration after the game other than he told Browns fans, "Hey, we did it for the AFC!" and he kept saying/slurring/yelling, "Black president!" I got him to reenact his famous WOO-WOO-WOO-WOO with four alternating fist/whole arm pumps. I am going to do that move a ton in the coming months given anything to celebrate. Like having a chick tell me "she loves my look."


    The Godfather and I are excellent at making up fake professional expansion teams. We'd like to have two NHL teams in north central Ohio. The Richland Rampage and (Canadien accent) "da" Norton Nordiques. Last night we said the Browns and the Steelers should combine forces and become the Cleveburgh Strowns.

    (In Pittsburgh accent)

    "Do do do do
    Here we go
    Do do
    Here we go
    Doo do doo
    Here we go
    We got a feelin'
    Dat Cleveburgh's
    Goin' to dah
    Supah Bowl"

    We then said all trophies and team operations would move to Youngstown, Ohio. We talked about this for six hours. the Truth (who joined us late and in-between cigarette breaks) didn't understand.

    You know. I hate the Steelers. I really do but what's the point anymore? I didn't feel bad at all after yesterday's win. Who cares if they win the next 100 Super Bowls. What does it change?

    I am the most unlucky sports fan in the history of the United States. Teams I root against and hate are now 15-2 in championship games. The teams I love are 1-6. That's 3-21 total. Fucking astonishing considering championship games are supposed to be relatively equal. There's no way I should be anything worse than 10-14 or 11-13. God hates me.

    Our row of nine people at the Ohio State-Indiana game never shut up. We barely said things that made any sense. People that sit near us absolutely have to think we're crazy. We just talk and talk and talk and talk. I like that we don't use profanity. I hate when people cuss as games because there are fucking kids around. McGinley's "Kay Yow/Hey Now" Outkast remix is so fucking funny. Did you hear Kay Yow died? We said that at least 94 times. In two hours.

    Assembly Hall at IU is fucking great. Maybe I will have a better memory of the place because Ohio State won but it's just a cool old school facility and Indiana has the most passionate basketball fans I have ever been around.

    Great weekend. I had a 13-hour straight text message conversation with a girl. The Godfather finally asked me who I was texting. I need a night off. Pumped about going over to the trendys tonight for Gossip Girl. I will be going to the Blue Jackets game tomorrow night with Baltimore.

    Quite the stretch I just wrapped up:

    Tuesday - Kings of Leon concert Here's a more professional review.
    Wednesday - Michigan v. Ohio State in college basketball
    Thursday- HOT COLLEGE GIRLS Night at The Lodge Bar
    Friday - The Patio w/ Athlete and Co.
    Saturday - IU
    Sunday - Super Bowl at The Little Bar

    I am fucking destroying my body, killing myself with alcohol and feeling like shit whenever I'm not drinking.

    February is lookin' good!

    Trip to IU, Part I

    Blog on the Run editor

    "You called her a townie," The Godfather said.

    "To her face?"


    Oops. She deserved it though. I really wanted to say, "you're married to a dude with earrings."

    Not quite sure what it is about me. Whether I've got a smug face, a face that frustrates people, a face that looks like I should get my ass kicked or what. But for doing nothing except playing songs on a juke box and picking up my coat, I got into two neverending "fights" where people stared at me and yelled at me or asked me, "are you saying smart things about me?"

    I knew I'd need those condoms.

    The townie lady (not an unattractive older woman in her upper 40s-ish) ... Townie Lady ... that's better ... Townie Lady accused me of masterminding a plan to steal coats at Kilroy's that had been going on for weeks. "My daughter-in-law had it happen to her two weeks ago!," she said.

    A.) You are old enough to have a daughter-in-law although in Indiana I'd have to assume most women over the age of 36 have daughters-in-law.

    And B.) Your husband tries to play peacekeeper and has long stringy hair, facial craters, a ponytail, earrings and glasses.

    Finally C.) You are wearing an Indiana University Starter jacket.

    D.) Back to A.

    McGinley got some great lines to her about, "you're being an ass right now" and "you'll regret this in the morning." She wanted to know that I was wearing my jacket. She said, "well what's in your left pocket?"

    On the way to Bloomington we stopped and picked up some essentials. I got a 4-ounce bag of Sour Patch Kids, a bag of Troyer Farm Kettle Cooked Potato Chips and orange Gatorade 2. That's G2 not "I got Gatorade too." I also made sure to buy a box of XXL Condoms. I knew I'd need them. I like buying condoms from women in their 70s at gas stations in Small Town, Ind. USA.

    I told Townie Lady, "A box of condoms." I then whipped it out (the box of XXL, not the XXL) and raised the box like The Lombardi Trophy.

    That sort of ended things.

    This was about at 10:30 p.m. on a night of non-stop drinking, shot taking, spread eating that ran from 6 p.m. to 3 a.m. By the end of the night, The Godfather was walking home by himself, The Dr. and I were looking for anyone with a vagina to say hello to while sharing a piece of pizza and McGinley had a box of pizza in the street trying to track down a cab. We got a cab, picked up a despondent Godfather a quarter mile down the road and then broke the record for farts ripped in a hotel room between 3:30 a.m. and noon. Other than McGinley's odd decision to turn the fucking television on at 9:30 a.m., we made zero bad decisions on the weekend.

    Wait a second, that's not entirely true.

    "I fucking loved that place Ricks! Best place ever," I said.

    "You mean, Nick's?" The Godfather asked.

    Why'd we leave to go to the pool hall place where I did some shots of SoCo and Lime and this blue shit. McGinley and I almost started a fight there when I was talking to a girl with a boyfriend. It happens.

    On Friday night back in Columbus a girl told me (unsolicited) "I love your look."

    "That had to make your weekend," The Dr. told me.

    "My month."

    Riding high, I let it fly at Nick's. Talked to a few different chicks. Girls I knew from back at Ohio State including a 16-year-old (at the time) that I used to buy beers for in exchange for hook-ups with her and her friends. Also saw some work peoples and random Indiana girls on that Indiana night.

    "You could have had that," The Dr. said.

    Why did we leave Nick's? Nick's had a 50-50 male/female ratio. This isn't scientific but it seemed that way to me. It was huge and neverending. The "bar" had about 16 different rooms and they all were packed with hotass white and Jewish girls.

    "If you like Jewish girls and girls with dark hair, IU is for you," that one guy said.

    "It's one of the few schools that I actually think I could have gone to," McGinley (an OSU grad) said.

    They did play Grey Street by Dave Matthews for at least 19 minutes straight. I thought I had a good mix at Kilroy's.

    Time Frame:

    4 p.m. to 6 p.m. - Game
    6 p.m. to 11:30 p.m. - Kilroy's on Kirkwood
    11:30 p.m. to 2 a.m. - Nick's
    2 a.m. to close - Fucking terrible upstairs bar with pool table

    Kilroy's had two hot bartenders with big tits and short white shorts. One girl had a perma-wedgie exposing her perfect shaped orange-sized butt cheeks. Like the two cheeks looked like oranges covered in tight white shorts. We ordered the following: super nachos; two orders of chicken fingers with fries; 24 wings; pepperoni rolls and something else? We also drank these 32-ounce beers with stunning frequency.

    "Let's take over the Illinois Republican Party!" - The Hammer, 9:34 p.m. EST.

    The Illinois native then said, "But we'd have to do it after June because I'm going to be busy."


    The Dr. then said he'd like to run for office. "But I'd have to move to Peoria." He quickly and kindly took back the idea.

    The Bum at the beginning of the night that tried to fight me almost isn't even worth discussing. He smelled so bad and got mad I didn't play a song he suggested on the juke box. He then stared at me for at least 45 minutes before getting kicked out. The Godfather said, "We did people try to get into fights with us? There are hippies in San Francisco that think we're pussies."

    To be continued ... I have a lunch thing and will be posting Part II in the afternoon. Much more to tell.

    Super Bowl MVP

    - From the desk of Art McGregor

    (14 beers tonight and not a hint of a buzz.)