Thursday, May 7, 2009

"I'm freakin pumped! I've been drinking green tea all goddamn day!"

I’m actually writing this one hour from Game 4 Round 2 and I’m predicting right now that Nedermeyer or that FUCKING REDICULOUS bald-headed troll-doll looking ref from Tuesday is going to have to be carried out on a stretcher or in several Petrie dishes by the time our boys get through with him. They should really give Marian Hossa a gun. Or a Samurai sword. Or a monkey with a Samurai sword and a gun. Badass. I actually wrote a song about it, in fact. Stuff like this is always better visualized in song, especially with sweet 80’s synth riffs.

Sung with a Swedish/Russian/Czeckoslovakian accent to the tune of 99 Luftballons by Nena.



You and I in a little pawn shop, bought Hossa a gun with some money we got
Set him free, game four, round two, with flack jackets just for me and you
In the locker room, home team’s side, Scott Neidermeyer sits with a gleam in his eye
Getting massage from a towel boy as 99 Detroit Red Wings skate by.

99 Detroit Red Wings, sharpening their hockey skates
panic boys, they’re warming up
up and down the hockey rink.
Ozzy stretches out his thigh
Rafalski prepares to punch someone in the eye
Hudler’s down for a little fun
And Marian Hossa has a gun.

99 Red hockey gods
break away two minutes in
Neidermeyer creeps around
to poach their shots behind the goal
two interferences don’t get called
an off-sides and a penalty
Hossa knocks one in off his glove
and the stupid ref says he doesn’t see.

99 Red Angry Men
Can’t believe they haven’t tied it
Datsyuk loses his freaking head
Zeterberg talks crazy shit
Pads are flying fans are crying
The ref was straight up fucking lying
Hossa reaches in his pants
As 99 Detroit Red Wings go by.

99 cops flooding in
ready for a hostage crisis,
it’s all over and we’re sitting pretty
in this shame-filled Disney city
when Hossa’s hand came from his pants,
it wasn’t heat that he was packin’
faced with his gigantic *censored *
they hung their heads and walked away…

in shame, of course. From what I hear it’s Hossa who should be called “the Mule.” You were robbed, buddy. Do you know what happens to people that rob people? Cause’ I do. I know what happens ‘cause I’ve seen both Kung Fu and Walker Texas Ranger.
Round
House
Kick,

that’s all I’m saying.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

"You know how when you grab a woman's breast... it feels like... a bag of sand."

Well well babies, let’s blow the lid off this playoffs season already! Way to school ‘em Red Wings! Check this out quick:

1) Welcome on board for 11 more years, Johan Franzen! Ken Holland, in addition to being a primo general manager and all around excellent awesome dude, is a total genius. Now give me Hossa! Maybe even Hudler!
2) Two words: beard season (siiigh)
3) Yes, there is a real picture of me and Darren McCarty out there.

But unfortunately for everyone, much, much, graver news has just crossed my desk (and by crossed I mean somebody just left it on there with no post-it note, referendum, or paper clip. And there is a coffee ring right on here. Temps, I tell ya). Virgins who just got married and seventeen year old future prostitutes who think they’re doing their “guys” a favor: listen up. COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE IS NO PLACE TO GET SEX TIPS!!! Not only are they the same exact ones every issue since the days when sleeping around was considered “modern” and to be kinky was to shave your beave down to a scraggly little patch, but they aren’t even good. Here’s a few from the most recent list of “ways to make your man melt” or whatever stupid vernacular they’ve managed to drool out this week:

Be Just as Gung Ho for Sex as a Guy
According to a survey in Australian Cosmo, 38 percent of readers have gotten it on with a guy within 24 hours of meeting." By thrusting your hips up and down, placing your hands on his butt, pulling him into you and kissing him hard, you can direct the action.. That's not to say you shouldn't go for a ride. Try pushing him onto a chair, unzipping his pants, going down on him for a few seconds, then climbing on. He won't know what hit him, but he'll be happy as hell. For the ultimate in rough 'n' ready fun, try one of Cosmo readers' favorite bed games, called the Randy Wrestling Roll. Start by lying on your side facing each other, with your thigh flung over his hip, and guide his penis inside you, then entangle your arms and legs and start rolling around on the bed or carpet as you thrust into each other. The goal? See who can end up on top most often — but in this game, everybody wins.


Seriously? The one tip that I didn’t already know from every film, television, and book I’ve ever seen featuring business time, that wrestling thing, that isn’t even sexy. Eew, in fact, no way. And that other stuff about grabbing his penis and kissing him hard??? There isn’t a culture that ever made it past two people in the whole world who doesn’t know that stuff. And there’s more.

Push Your Booty Boundaries
You can steam things up at home by moving outside the bedroom and doing it on top of a sturdy table kitchen counter, bathroom sink, or hood of a car that's parked in your garage. Things get even hotter in Greece, where they boldly go where most cultures are too shy to venture. "Both men and women here enjoy anal sex, and no one considers it a big deal," says deputy editor of Greek Cosmo, Margarita Michelakou. Like bringing sex toys to bed or using flavored lubes, anal sex is just another option for spicing things up.

Another giant duh. Spice it up by moving to the kitchen? Whoo boy! Lets not get carried away! Even if you’re observing the roommate rule and not getting busy where the other one eats/sits/washes dishes, I bet any one of us could come up with more exciting places. And sex toys? Even the oldest trick in the book isn’t that obvious. So, since this kind of stuff is what all you virgins and newlyweds have to go on when exploring what Mystery calls the “Venuvian arts” (man, what a tool), Me and KP here are going to do you all a favor and compile a little list of T Shirt Size:Awesome sex tips that might actually work (pardon me, this might be a little candid for any of you who might have had a shred of respect for us before):

1) Compare his performance in the sack to an animal. Loudly. If you’re pleased; a tiger, gorilla, alligator, or T Rex are good options. If you are displeased; a piglet, parakeet, or broccoli usually get the point across.
2) Flavored lube, blah blah blah. How about you try orange marmalade, sausage gravy, or Tabasco sauce, you giant baby.
3) Generally, a man will do your bidding if you emasculate him enough, both in public and in times of intimacy. Unless your bidding is for him to marry you. Or like you. Or take you seriously.
4) It is okay for a woman to initiate sex, but don’t give that shit away for free, girls. $25 dollars an hour is both reasonable and fair.
5) When you’re all in the middle of it, don’t ask me. Tell me. “Can I kiss you?” is completely sissy and inappropriate.
6) Every fella out there says they appreciate a lady who wants her hair pulled a little. So fellas? Don’t get weirded out when a lady tells you to pull her freaking hair already. Jeez.
7) While the occasional talking is expected to some extent, avoid chatter and Chit-chat. Don’t talk about dinner, doctor visits, or your partner’s sister's abilities in the sack. Not cool.
8) Some potential dinner conversations that might turn a lady on: your tool belt, your love of cooking, or that time you saved a thousand kittens from a burning orphanage (but it’s no big deal). Possible dinner conversation turn-offs: how awesome you are at everything, how wasted you got, how wasted you are, your mother’s cancer, and anything you ever read in Cosmopolitan Magazine.
9) Sex in the City isn’t anything like sex in the country. It’s dustier, grainier, and the people are less attractive.
10) While it’s nearly unavoidable not to picture Burt Reynolds in the throes of passion, don’t call him Burt Reynolds, unless he really is Burt Reynolds. Usually mentioning Burt in the sack ends in a conversation about how awesome Smokey and the Bandit is, which is fine, but again, not sexy.
11) The kitchen, bathroom sink, or the hood of a car are fine, but try these smacktastic locations: bait shop, preschool, port-o-john, or combination baitshoppreschoolportojohn.
12) Busting out of the bathroom dressed like Han Solo is A-OKAY. Busting out of the bathroom dressed like Chewbacca is A-OKAY. Looking like Chewbacca without a costume is a little yucky.
13) Names and the shouting of names can be sticky wickets. Write it on the back of your hand to avoid an awkward situation.
14) Hot dogs, hoagies, burritos, Popsicles, bologna, French bread, and pickles are all shaped like penises, so make sure your lady eats one of each on every date to get her all greased up and in the mood.
15) Please remember, a little uncomfortable is fun at first, and above all, you’re both already naked, so what is there to be shy about? You’re both there to, so have a little fun.

And ladies? In reference to Cosmopolitan Magazine, ever notice that while you’re sippin’ on your double iced skinny soy with whip during a break from your profesh (we should totally plan a vacay by the way, me and my peeps need to do some serious chillaxin’) and flipping through this month’s totally amazing issue of Cosmo (referred to by themselves as “the bible”, if I EVER hear anybody I know do that, slap city, bitch) featuring some bland starlet with one hand on her hip and one hand on the top of her head, smiling blankly through her blonde highlights on the cover, that THAT MAGAZINE HAS BEEN EXACTLY THE SAME ISSUE EVERY MONTH FOR SINCE IT’S CREATION? Ever notice that? How the embarrassing moments and the articles about fun females (she totally works sixty hours and can somehow balance that with cribbing amazing threads, making her man melt, and drinking 300 appletinis per week!), clothes, and whatever else nonsensical fodder in between Candie’s ads is always the exact same shit every time? Do they really think that’s helping anyone? OMG!!!!

Saying things like “peeps” “profesh” “vacay” “crib” “amazing” “man candy” “nooky” “cannoodle” and “convo” do not make you sound intelligent, fun, or fearless. They make you sound ridiculous. Everybody else, you can thank me later. Love!

Friday, March 20, 2009

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day."

Well, well! it certainly has been a busy week for the girls at TShirtSize: Awesome! KP and I have been pleasantly busy attending hockey games and intelligent people discussion groups (which thankfully only last one more week and no, it’s not anything court ordered), Beth finds herself in the middle metro-sexual non-sexy youth sandwich, and ol’ Kasey seems to have gotten her tongue tied in a knot with some special John, enough to keep it out of other people’s, for a change. Way to go, Kasey. Beth, you’re a loser.

Special thanks to all our friends from (and the new ones that we made, Daniel, you are one creepy dude) the Annual St. Patty’s Day Pub Stumble, which had record turnout (and record staying power, we all did it!!) and record fun. Record temperatures and adorable servers also played a large part (all I’m saying ladies is go to Graydon’s Crossing) and fun and merriment and poor grammar was had by all. Cheers! Erin Go Braugh! That means “Go To Ireland, you wannabe lush!” in Gaelic. Hey, fuck yooo, Rosetta Stoone! Here are a few other things I’ve learned:

• The term “honeymoon” actually dates back to Babylonian times, when it was customary for the parents of the bride to supply the groom with all the mead he could drink for an entire month after the wedding. Moon=month, honey=main ingredient in mead, get it?? Ha!

• The word “cocktail” comes from the implements used to stir drinks during the early days of the American bar, when they used pheasant feathers to decorate the walls, and would pick said feathers off the wall to mix drinks.

• The cocktail known today as the ‘Tom Collins’ comes from a practical joke barmen used to play on each other in the Wild West, back when pride actually mattered to people. If you were looking to mess with a dude just because, you’d walk up to him and tell him that you just heard Tom Collins up the street slandering his honest name, you know, calling him lazy or his mother a ninny or Yankee-lover (or whatever they said back then), and the dude would fly out the door in a blind rage and beat to pieces the first city slicker he didn’t recognize, no matter if his name was actually Tom Collins or not. Funny, huh!?! Boy, what a good joke! Bet you didn’t see that one coming, innocent bystander! Here is (according to the Playboy Bartender’s Guide) how to make a Tom Collins:
2 ½ oz gin
1-2 tsp. Sugar
1 oz lemon juice
Iced club soda
Garnish with lemon slice, lime slice, or maraschino cherry (optional)

Here’s how (according to the Playboy Bartender’s Guide) to make a City Slicker:
2oz brandy
½ oz triple sec
1tbsp. Lemon juice
eew.

Here is how to make a shoe smell:
Your stinky feet.
Damn, I’m good!!!

And speaking of cocktails, I really want to let you all in on the best known secret and future tradition of the girlies of TShirtSize: Awesome and all of their 5,000 friends…Scarey-oke live on Wednesday nights from the most haunted bar/brothel left in Grand Rapids! Nick Fink’s in Comstock Park! You all should come! For serious! Hosted by suckah commentator and for real awesome dude Bubba (of BubbaHasSpoken, but he is actually really nice. Unless you’ve had a tracheotomy recently…) this bar seriously gives me the major willies because for the past 150 years it’s been a whorehouse. And they haven’t done much with the place, if you know what I mean. (Here’s the premise. It’s got velvet wallpaper, jet black leather booths, uneven floors, high back wooden booths and smells like vomit.) And what do we do when something gives us the serious willies?? Sing to it! Really well! There’s a lot of hidden talent and hilarious drunk hillbillies running around that joint, and no matter who shows up, it’s guaranteed to be a real blast. At least super entertaining. Just don’t even look at the beer list, or attempt to proposition any of the wildlife, contrary to popular belief, it is NO LONGER A BROTHEL. Except for me and KP. Who tend to bring the brothel with us…

Super double-special thanks to local legend and dynamic celebrity superpower Sam Kenny (remember? From the other post?) for totally tearing that shit up with high kicks, Michael Jackson moves and enough spins to make me dizzy. And seriously, Ryan??? Where did you come from, dude??

Not only is the clientele usually an adventure, but you’ll sound like Mel frickin’ Torme on the mike. Get on out there.


Nick Fink's, Wednesday nights, Comstock Park. Awesome. Terrifying. Awesome. Here’s a video interpretation of the excellence that Scarey-oke is:



And just a little reminder, today and April 10th are your last chances to come sit behind me and KP at Friday night Griffins games and get angry at our horn-blowing and throw popcorn in our hair. Or get really laced on dollar beers and slam 4 hot dogs for no reason. Boosh! See you in the playoffs, babies!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

"So come up to the lab and see what's on the slab. I see you shiver with antici... pation"

I’d like to, before continuing, pretend that that last post never happened. Here is a little list of things to think about so you can easily erase that last one from your memory:

• Puppies
• Tim Curry as Dr. Frankenfurter from Rocky Horror Picture Show
• A robot and a chimp becoming friends, slowly, after the robot earns the chimp’s trust by holding its hat and actually giving it back later.
• Things you’d name your chimp if you had one. I think I’d go with Ricky, or Patrick. I like Patrick.
• Ingredients that would be tasty in chili, even though they aren’t commonly found in chili, like Chicken Nuggets, fried egg, or bacon.
• Other things you could be doing besides reading this blog…
• Drinking, cause that’s what I’m doing. Must….forget….aaaah!
• Justin Stover

And speaking of Justin Stover, do we have some more excellent local entertainment for you! Justin combines sweet indy tunes with cheery pop and a little bit of funness (amen!) to create the beautiful, well-made songs that you can hear if you go to see him at Rocky’s or the Whiskey Lounge. And, he’s like the 2nd friendliest guy in this whole town, besides Sam Kenny, whom we also eagerly endorse. In fact, if you like Sammy, then you’ll enjoy Justin live too, and since it’s impossible to not like either of them, everybody’s happy, right?

For serious though, Justin has a fuzzy, sugary, slightly sexy sweetheart of a voice that compliments both songs and appearance deliciously, and is easy to get all gooey over both on recordings and live. Very rarely can I say that every singer/songwriter out there can be palatable and even enjoyable without a band behind him to fill in holes, but Justin is one of those guys who, stand-alone, will sweep you off your feet with adorability, sincerity, and talent. And, he has a rockin’ beard. Check him out at the Whiskey Lounge on April 17 or on MySpace HERE , and you might find out about Grand Rapids’ own version of Feist who’s another wildly talented pixie little thing, Sam Crane HERE

Note: This isn’t Motley Crue, folks. And while I’m sure Justin would appreciate a little flashie flash from the ladies who are feeling his sensitivity and intelligent-but-still-a-regular-guy song lyrics, please just sit there and sip your cocktail and appreciate the ambiance and rock out in your head. You can listen to KISS on the way home.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

"He once got our dead battery goin' by mixin' bird feces and spit, cause there's like acids in it, eh?"

K so since we are now acclaimed on the NealNet and live in the Nealiverse, I’m going to: 1st) Shout out to my Japanese brothers and sisters and all our fans down-under! Blimey, mates! Domo Arigato!
2nd) Write something that has nothing whatsoever to do with Neil Diamond. Even though it kind of does, but not really.


10 REASONS WHY CANADA IS AWESOME (in no particular order. In fact, maybe you can put them in your own order, and we can discuss. I’d like that.):

1) Kyle Quincy
2) Mathieu Dandenault
3) Ed Belfour (yes I know he’s old now, but Damn!)
4) Kris Draper
5) Kirk Maltby
6) Darren McCarty
7) CHRIS OSGOOD
8) Steve Yzerman
9) Mike Babcock
10) Scotty “killabitchwithoutevenflinching” Bowman

Hahaha! How awesome was that sweet trick I just played on you! Sike!! Ok I have a different list of things that are awesome about Canada (again, in no particular order):

1) Some common stereotypes associated with Canadians: Beer, hockey, mullets, moose, beavers, political neutrality, and friendliness. Common stereotypes associated with Americans: obesity, arrogance, ignorance, extravagance, and McDonalds (I’m going to hear it for this one).

2) Thanks to their immaculate Nationalized Health Care system, all Canadian men are at least 33% better looking than everywhere else in North America. Ever been to Windsor? Even the border guys and bums got it going on. Hello, nurse!

3) The official food of Quebec is called “Poutine” and includes such delicious ingredients as French fries, gravy, and cheese curds. How are we still the fat ones?

4) Let’s be honest, while everyone really wanted high school to be like Sweet Valley and West Beverly, we all know it was really more like Degrassi.

5) SCTV, Kids In The Hall, You Can’t Do That On Television, Dan Akroyd, Mike Meyers, John Candy, Barenaked Ladies, Trivial Pursuit, Pictionary, Alex Trebek, Cirque du Soleil. Also, Canada has the longest designated street in the world, coming in at 1178.3 miles. Do those guys know how to party, or what??

6) The zipper was actually invented in Canada. Thank god! Buttons are a total pain in the ass.

7) Canadian bacon = ham. Canadian geese = bird more prominent in the United States than the bald eagle by far. Canadian tuxedo = jean jacket and jeans. This begs the question, are these things really of Canadian origin, or did the Canadians just take a bunch of sweet stuff and put their name on it? Either way, that took some thought.

8) “slap a bitch” is actually a legal term in Canada. If they actually had a dictionary there, I’d show you, but they don’t so if you want proof, just go ask a Canadian for a Canadian dictionary and they’ll, you know, prove it.

9) While to the rest of the world, Canada seems to enjoy peaceful neutrality, Northern friendliness, clean cities, and undisturbed wildlife, I just want you to know that Calgary is like the murder capitol of the whole world and there is so many miles of uncharted wilderness that no one would ever have even the slightest chance to find you if you went missing…you want to know how they stay so happy pal? Just test ‘em.

10) Ryan Reynolds.


*Bonus (because while my logic is impenetrable, there isn’t yet concrete enough evidence for the zealots): Jesus was actually born in Canada. Just think about it for a second: how many nativity scenes have you seen covered in snow? How often does it snow in the desert? Did you see that guy’s beard? I’ll bet there’s even a hidden passage in the bible that was lost in translation about how baby Jesus was laid in a manger lined with maple leaves and wrapped in Joseph’s (his friends called him “Broseph”) old flannel shirt and then the baby Jesus was visited by angels and they wiped a gossamer hankey on his widdle nosie, which they passed on to a group of trappist monks who took it back to Belgium (how do you think all those Belgians learned French?!?) and used it to make the world’s first (and to this day, finest) beer. I rest my case.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Pack up the babies and grab the old ladies

So, the Academy Awards were on last night. I was able to catch the last 45 minutes or so of the show and it was ok. Kate Winslet blah blah blah, Sean Penn blah blah blah. I just noticed that, even though Mr. Hugh Jackman is a ridiculously attractive male specimen (and by ridiculous I mean RI-DAMN-DICULOUS, what was going on there? Couldn’t they have spread that out a little? Why give it all to one man for godssakes!), it feels as if he is trying to be like someone Stef and I are familiar with.

Someone with chest hair and perfectly coifed locks who sings like a god…


Play it now
Play it now, my baby

Cracklin rosie, make me a smile
Girl if it lasts for an hour, thats al right
We got all night
To set the world right
Find us a dream that dont ask no questions, yeah




The Grammy’s new what would make the ladies wiggle in their seats, the Academy could learn a thing or two!

Here are a few myths about Neil that Stef heard which only seem to make him cooler somehow…

o When he is in town, and he doesn’t know you personally, you are not to look Mr. Neil Diamond in the eye. He isn’t as bad as Prince, but he doesn’t want you all looking at him either. He’s just a man, folks.

o He wants his water at 27 degrees Fahrenheit. Not 26, not 31. God help you if that shit is room temperature.

o He must have fresh baked goods delivered to his room every hour on the hour as long as he is in town. Muffins! Now!

o He requires a whole floor to himself for a dressing room. He allows the band and crew a floor as well, but his must be on top because no one is above Neil Diamond

o He may be the Jewish Elvis, but he still leaves decent tips. And by decent I mean he’ll allow you to live as long as you don’t fuck up the modest 7,000 items demanded on his rider.

o Neil once starred in a film with Sir Lawrence Olivier (that’s Hamlet, to you) called “The Jazz Singer” in 1980 that was a re-make of an old Al Jolson film from the 20’s. Except instead of a black man crooning his way into the predominantly white world of high-end entertainment, he was a Jew breaking into the (predominantly Jewish…?) world of show business. Dude, that’s like, deep.

o Neil Diamond taught Chuck Norris everything that he knows.