You've Got to be Fucking Kidding Me.

Okay, so I am sitting in my office right now listening to an extremely boring and useless conference call.
To help pass the time and keep me awake, I decide to take my foam stress ball and bounce it off the walls of my office, playing my own lil' version of "Outs". (and my boss wonders why I didn't want to join her in her office for said conference call).
















Anyways, I am keeping myself mildly entertained with this activity (by mildly entertain, I mean that my urge to kill has dropped to somewhat manageable levels) when suddenly and inexplicably the ball lands inside the suspended lighting in my office which is about 12 feet above the ground.

Game over.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

Once a Chump.....

Okay, so I am out for a bite to eat at a local Mexican grille in Salem, MA (yes, THAT Salem). I sidle up to a bar and order a drink. I casually look to my left and notice a kid I went to junior high school with. He was also sitting at the bar and sipping a Guinness.

Now, let me take a moment to describe my junior high school. I live in a city affectionately known as the "City of Sin" and
The Hells Angels have a VERY prominent chapter headquartered there. In junior high school, none of the really bad kids had been weeded out yet and sent to DYS. Basically, junior high was their last chance to straighten themselves out before a long haul in juvie, and let's just say that most of them didn't make it. On top of that, I am pretty sure the building that housed my junior high school was built in the mid 1800s and looked eerily like Shawshank penitentiary. In other words, junior high school was hell.

That all being said, I didn't have much of an opinion either way of this particular classmate, but he always struck me as somewhat of a chump. However, we are talking close to 20 years ago here, and who really was cool when they were 13 anyways? (certainly not me)

So, I am sitting there drinking my margarita (yes it was Monday, quit judging me!) and contemplating whether or not to say anything when the kid got up and left. Oh well, I thought, no big deal. Then I looked over and realized that said former 13 year old chump left over half his glass of Guinness unimbibed.

Un-fucking-forgivable!

Once a chump......always a chump.



I suggest you sit down and finish off your fuckin' pint mate.

We stink and we are generally bad people

Okay, this morning my sweetie and I were waiting for our train.
We made it to the train station on time, which was a minor miracle seeing as I am rocking on 3 hours sleep today, only to find out that our 8:01 departure to Boston had been cancelled.

Next train wasn't schedule to meander through the station until 8:30, which meant we would both be late for work... once again.

In the meantime, an express train pulls through our station. By express, I mean it was an express to Boston from its origination point somewhere further up the line and was not scheduled to stop at our station.

However, sweetie and I were of the opinion that since our train was cancelled, the express should make an unscheduled stop and pick up the stranded passengers. There was only about 20 of us, so it wouldn't be like we'd be overcrowding the fucker.

Well, once it became apparrent that the express train wasn't stopping (for safety reasons, it mosies through the station at a tantilizing 5 mph... almost teasing your cock into thinking it is going to stop) sweetie and I made the informed decision to hawk loogies (yes both of us) onto the train's windows. So, we did so and felt better about our places in this suck life.

It wasn't until I arrived at work (a half hour late) that I found out that our original train was cancelled because it struck and killed a pedestrian a few stops up. Apparently, we live on a rather murderous section of rail seeing as this was the second death in a 24 hour period on our line.

Anyways, feeling kinda bad about hawking loogies on the express train.
The lesson (as always) is the title of the story.




Crap! Late for work again!

Manny + Ortiz = Baseball History

I feel the need to actually put this down in writing, because something is happening in Boston right now that has only been seen once before in baseball history. That's right, only once.
It is without questions that Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz are the best hitting duo in all of baseball right now.
I mean, who else?? Giambi and A-Rod? Hmmm, an admitted juicer and the least clutch player in baseball, I don't think so.


This kid has more creditbility in that wee little finger than Giambi does in his entire bloated mess of a body. The fact that an admittedly juiced up Giambino (gayest....name....ever) hit TWO home runs off Pedro in game 7 of the 2003 ALCS, long before the Grady Little fiasco, really grinds my gears!
Fuck you Jason. Fuck you.






"My locker combination? It's 6-4-3, why do you ask?"















Pujols and Rolen/Edmonds? While Prince Albert is admittedly sick (although, he's is about as close to 26 years old as the new Pope is) the second half of the duo just does not hold up.





Albert Pujols in an undated photo

















However, Papi and Manny's dominance extends further than just the current day. The fact is, they apparently are the second greatest pair of teammates, in regards to offensive production, in the history of baseball!!
Now, it goes without saying that Babe Ruth and Lou Gerhig are absolutely untouchable. It pains me to say it since they are Yankees, but there is no comparison.

However, the fact is, Manny and Ortiz are apparently second.
Mantle and Maris only had one dominant year.
The Willies for the Giants (Mays and McCovy) careers didn't intersect during each other's primes.
Same for Hank Aaron and Eddie Mathews.

In 2004, Ortiz/Manny combined for 84 HRs and 269 RBIs.
In 2005, they combined for 92 HRs and 292 RBIs.
Now, Ruth and Gerhig have numerous season together where they've eclipsed these numbers.
But, as far as my research can tell, they are the only ones.







Papi and Manny are due up???
No es bueno!






Here are some other teammates best years for combined stats;
Eddie Mathews and Hank Aaron
1959; 85 HRs and 237 RBIs (Homers are close, RBIs are not)
1960; 79 HRs and 250 RBIs

Mantle and Maris
1961; 115 HRs (FUCK!!) 270 RBIs (Obviously many more homers, but not even close to Man-Paps 2005 RBI #s)

A-Rod and Sheffield
2005; 82 HRs and 253 RBIs (Nope and nope)

Coincidentally, the Red Sox had another set of teammates that were also dominant.
Ted Williams and Vern Stephens (who?) tore up the AL between 1948 - 1950.
Check out their combined numbers for 1949
82 HRs and 318 RBIs !!!!!!!
However, I tend to discount this tandem due to the fact that it was an uneven partnership.
You see, AL hurlers were so ri-God-damn-diculously afraid of Ted Williams, that Stephens was practically hand-delivered his pitches on a batting tee. In 1951, when Teddy Ballgame was called to duty for the Korean war, Stephens numbers fell off the map and he was soon out of baseball for good.

Another group of teammates worth mentioning are the menacing trioka from the 1990s Cleveland Indians;
Albert Belle, Jim Thome, and.......Manny Ramirez!
However, their career peaks didn't perfectly intersect either.
Manny didn't become truly dominant until after Belle left, and Thome didn't until after Manny left.
Plus, Belle was perhaps the biggest cunt ever to don a baseball uniform.
He made Ty Cobb look like Mike Brady (with the HIV and everything!)




Everyone sing! "He's an
asssshooolleeeeooooeeeoo!
The world's biggest asshole!
A! SS! HO! LE!














Long story short....Manny and Papi are making baseball history.
Perhaps what makes it most enjoyable is that neither have ever been mentioned in any steriod whispers whatsoever.
Be sure to take a moment to enjoy!!!

Man-Pap update 7/7/06!
Combined to go 4 for 8 last night with 3 homers and 8 rbis.
On pace to finish 2006 with 105 HRs and 290 RBIs!!!!


Man-Pap update 8/1/06
Combined to go 4 for 8 last night with 3 homers and 6 rbis.
On pace to finish 2006 with 104 HRs and 297 RBIs!!!!


Man-Pap update 8/10/06
Manny and Ortiz now lead the AL in just about every significant offensive category.
King David is #1 in HRs and RBIs
Manny is #1 in Slugging %, Walks, and OPS, is 2nd in On Base %, and 8th in Batting Average.
Of course, Man-Pap is not getting much help from their teammates lately and therefore the Sox have lost 4 of 5 to the D-Rays and Royals to fall 3 games behing the Yankees and 1 1/2 out of the Wildcard. Doh!!!!







Thank God these girls got the "expose breasts/shirt puller" dynamic correct here.

Apparently, This is Important

Here is an article outlining a key battle that is currently being fought in the Massachusetts State Legislature.
May God strike these people down with some of that blinding wrath stuff he breaks out every now and again.

Fluffernutter Sandwich Angers Mass Senator


Coincidentally, the Marshmallow spread that is at the center of this argument was invented and is still currently manufactured in my hometown.

Finally,
Sorry for not posting much content lately. We are in the busy season at my job, and if you think I spend an ounce of my free time on this thing....well my friend, you are allllllll riiiiiiiggggghht.

See Something Say Something

See Something Say Something

...is the antiterrorism mantra of the New York City MTA, and is copied here is Boston by the MBTA. The idea is if I, as a pedestrian, see something suspicious that may be akin to terrorism, that I should report it to the nearest authority figure; Cop, security guard, Pope, whatever. (I find it rather unsettling that untrained civilians are both the MTA and the MBTA's first line of defense on terrorism, but I digress). This mantra (I like that word, "slogan" you are fired) is drilled into the heads of train and subway riders every single day in the form of announcements, pamphlets, signs, etc.







"Kirk to Enterprise,
See Something Say Something Indeed!
Kirk out."







Fast forward to today. I am walking in Downtown Crossing in Boston. It is perhaps the busiest area in town for foot traffic. I grab an ice cream and sit down on the benches in a little park outside of Borders Books. The park is dedicated to the survivors of the Ireland Potato Famine of the mid 1800s and has several statues of starving and withered Irish folk. It's very unappetizing actually. Can't they just put a statue of a potato with a red crossed-out circle? I mean....We get it, there were no potatoes, people starved, lot's of em. We don't need emaciated statues to remind us. The ironic part of it was that while sitting in Potato Famine Park, I was scarffing down a hot fudge sundae. It was irony-ific!

Back to my point though, I go to the barrel to dispose of my trash, and I notice inside is a backpack, and rather lumpy looking backpack at that. Now, today was about 80 degrees and sunny in Boston, and this was at the height of lunch hour, so there were at least 500 people within 50 feet of this trash can. It was an ideal target. So, of course my brain kicks into See Something Say Something mode (3 straight years of daily rides on the MBTA will do this). I casually look around for a cop. None of course! But if I was driving 10MPH over the limit, the scene would resemble the end of The Blues Brothers I'm sure.




There's never a cop around
when you need one. Just ask this guy.






So I decided to go into Borders and alert the security guard. He walks with me to the trash can, pulls out the backpack and reveals.......Nothing inside but an empty Vodka bottle.

The end result of my See Something Say Something experience? I felt like an ass. I am pretty sure I heard people mumbling and laughing at me as I tried to slink away from the scene as non-chalantly as possible.

Terrorists 1 Beetle 0




The official symbol of the
See Something Say Something
campaign






Check it out! See Something Say Something has claimed another victim!

My Haunting Theory

Me and my hottie lil' gal pal (Hi baby! I know you are waiting with baited breath for tomorrow's updated Best of Hotornot post! ) are house sitting this week in Belmont, MA. For those not from the Mass, think of any snooty rich town in your area that is chock full of yuppies, and you'll have a pretty good grasp of Belmont.

Anyways, I was walking through this big old house last night and for some reason (Mary Jane may have been prominently involved) I began thinking about the possibility of the house being haunted.

Now, just so you know, I really do not believe in all that haunting crap. Not that I don't think hauntings could happen, it's is just that the people who I've seen on TV who claim to have encountered a ghost seem to be the absolute least creditable individuals imaginable. Then these haunting specials on TV do nothing to help legitimize their stories; flashing blurred images on screen with an over dramatized score (BUM BAH BUUUMMM!) and often overdubbed with semi-subliminal screams just for the hell of it. I mean, NIGG-HA PLEEEZZE!

So, I began to ponder the idea of spirits and such, and came to the conclusion that if they do exist, they likely are all around us. They do not solely occupy old creaky buildings with leaky basements and cobwebs everywhere. They are probably in every dwelling with any type of history to it. Therefore, if spirits are everywhere, why do only a very few people actually get "haunted"?

I came to this conclusion: if you are being haunted, you must be some type of asshole or otherwise very annoying. I mean, I think if you were cool, the spirits would be down with just kicking back and chilling with you.

Getting back to me and my babe, we are hanging in this big old house, yet not a single haunting moment has happened to us. Maybe this is because half the time my girl is walking around the place in her birthday suit going in and out of the hottub, and the other half of the time we are cranking good music, throwing down beers, and ganking shots of expensive tequilla from the liquor cabinet. I imagine that the spirits in the house must think we are a blast to hang with, and therefore decide not to haunt us.




"Fucking Beetle knows
how to party, and his
chic is always naked!
NICE!!!"



Regarding the losers who are on the haunting shows, these people of the lowlifes of society. This must be why they get haunted. The spirits just can't stand co-exisiting with the sorry asses any longer. So they start winging vases around and jamming on the piano at 3:00AM.




Maybe if Signorney Weaver
wasn't such a douche,
she wouldn't need these
guys to save her cottage
cheese ass.




I can even imagine a ghost getting pissy over something a minor as the television shows people watch. I know if I were a ghost, and the person living in the house where I was residing watched Yo Mama everyday followed up by a Golden Girls marathon, I would fuck with them on priniciple alone. Therefore, it is quite possible that some hauntings are nothing more than a critique of your television viewing habits.



"Pac Man used to watch
Jennie Jones every day.
We just couldn't take it
anymore. Then the Ms.
moved in. C U Next Tuesday!!"
Blinky, notorious video game haunter.



So, there it is. If you want to stop being haunted, quit being a lame douch bag and live a little bit! Have your girlfriend/spouse walk around the house naked every now and again, and for fuck sake quit watching The Bachelor and all those faggotty games shows!! (except for the Price is Right of course!)




The only spirit that ever
bothers Bob is the ghost
of funbags past.

Hockey Fights Yo!!

Since creating this menace of a blog, I've come to realize how hard it is to post good new stuff each day.
This fucker is becoming a beast and my productivity at work is no doubt suffering.
But I have come to realize that most things I like are also liked but most other like-minded individuals. (Like really!)
So, I began to think about stuff I like.
You know what I like? I like hockey fights! Fucking A!
And this site here's got some of the best ones!

http://www.hockeyfights.com/videos/

Great new music...and it's about FUCKING time

Nowadays, good new rock music is more difficult to find than hot broad in a Boston bar who doesn't have any of the following ailments....kids, engagement rings, STDs, fat cockblock friends.
All these new MTV generated Blink 182 wannabe faux rock bands make me want to stomp skull with my size 13 1/2 Timberlands. (Okay you caught me, I am only a size 11 and I am wearing Sketchers).
This all being said, here is a badass new rock band who is starting to make waves.
Unfortunately, it seems that many people are quickly jumping the bandwagon, so by the time you read this, they may already be overexposed and getting rimmed by the disgusting likes of Spin magazine. (Oh how I hate them!!)

http://www.wolfmother.com/2005.html

Best of Hotornot Redux

Once again, here are some of the best from one of our favorite sites, Hotornot.com.
Kind of funny to think about it, but it was this completely brainless idea from which we decided to start this blog in the first place. Now the site has apparently (and thankfully) taken on a life of it's own. But, in keeping with the theory of riding the horses that brought you here, the Best of Hotornot will always have a home with the Stonecutters (despite the unyeilding displeasure of certain significant others).
Okay, on with the skanks!!! Woooo hooooo!

Simply Awesome

Somewhere on this site is the key to the name of this blog.
Hint: We made Steve Guttenberg a star.

http://www.angelfire.com/film/tsss/sounds.htm