Fourth Quarter Meltdown

Eternally Optimistic.

Archive for the category “Wasting Time”

Jason Loves Brandon: A Thanksgiving Article

Hold the phone bozos…

After a bold proclamation that I wouldn’t talk about BRoy for a few days, my boy Jason Quick just did a sentimental piece about “Brandon” (first name basis with Brandon always and forever, obvi) taking an in-depth look into his mindset during his comeback. Couple of things:

1. Is it weird that a Portland beat reporter was the first to get the scoop about BRoy’s latest knee surgery and the in-depth interview about his comeback rather than, ya know, a Minnesota beat reporter?

2. Considering the nature of Quick’s article (and the timing of it…releasing it on Thanksgiving), it kinda feels like Mr. Roy is very close to calling it quits and is trying to reach out to Blazer fans before doing so. If you wanna reach out to Blazer fans, there’s no better way than going through JQuick and being a super nice guy. JQuick eats up super nice guys.

3. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll break my promise and chat BRoy things on the next “Ballin’ with Bozos” podcast. That shit will drop after Thanksgiving. Endo and I are making a vow to schedule more time for shitfaced discussion of all things basketball. He hasn’t agreed to the “shitfaced” part, but I figure you’re really half-assing a podcast if you aren’t legally drunk, at least.

Happy Thanksgiving pals. Catch ya on the flipside.


Royce White, Twitter, and Not Talking About Brandon Roy

I told my attorney I was not talking about you today Brandon. So just get the effing heck outta my face with that legendary face and stupid blue jersey and heartbreaking news.

Over the weekend my attorney pointed out that on the last episode of the “Ballin’ with Bozos” podcast, I seemed a bit obsessed/upset with Brandon Roy’s attempted comeback with the Minnesota Timberwolves.  I proved him wrong and acted the part of a totally mellow smooth operator by saying, “Nah, no big deal,” while biting my tongue and holding back the same ol’ diatribe I’ve unleashed on about 1,000 people.  It was then that I vowed NOT to mention Brandon Roy on the next episode of Ballin’ with Bozos (recording tonight or tomorrow). 

Then news broke that he’s having another knee surgery, just a few games into the season.

But I’m staying true to my vow even on my first post of the week.  It’s just something I have to prove, okay?  I’ll post or drunkenly podcast about BRoy at a later date.

So what to do today…how’s about we talk about Royce White!

A recap of this guy’s story is rehashed on several sites that don’t share a name with a Goonie’s character, and they’re written by grownups that take their reporting jobs seriously rather than a mildly employed blogger that spent his afternoon watching the original Red Dawn in preparation for the Thanksgiving release of version 2012. 

You: “Hey, what are you up to this afternoon?”
Me: “Oh you know. Takin’ care of business.”

So I’ll spare you the background.  Plus, my opinion on the matter means dick because I don’t know the guy and I’m not exactly qualified to pontificate on anxiety disorders.

The problem right now is that Royce is in a big ol’ tiff with Houston management, and for right now it’s looking like it won’t end well.  But because he’s not speaking to anyone publicly (he’s just blasting off on the Twitters) the media is all “WTF?” and guessing what to write next and sometimes they can’t think of anything to write at all.  So then they do stuff like post a “story” entitled “Nasty Tweets Royce White is Receiving“.

It’s the new craze taking the interwebs by storm.  If there’s nothing to report that hasn’t been reported already, just log on to Twitter, search for key words/names and screen grab a bunch of nonsense from bozos that are taking their frustrations to their smart phones and actin like tough guys from the safe haven of a bathroom stall.  Tweeting tough guy things to athletes/celebrities behind a computer screen is annoying – something only a fat pathetic loser would do after drinking too many mudslides and looking himself in the mirror and wondering “where in the hell am I going in life?” and then taking to Twitter to unleash some pent up insecurities (disguised as fury in the form of the wrath of a thousand suns).

Wait…correction: tweeting angrily at people is for wheelers and dealers & cool guys who ooze with opportunity and success.  Extra cool points for doing it in ALL CAPS.

As for Royce, I’m rootin’ for the guy.  As a casual observer I’m not gonna demonize him, but I’m not doing that to the Rockets management either.  On Twitter, Royce is basically painting these guys as dictators…but for some perspective, he should look back to draft day and remember what he felt when he was slipping out of the first round.  If he can’t remember, no biggie.  I gotcha pal.

Magic Johnson Tweets Reaction to Mike D’Antoni Hiring & Shows How to Act Like a Grown Ass Man

Hey weird. Magic Johnson is talking out of both sides of his mouth.

OMG guys.  Magic Johnson isn’t happy.  The good news though, when Magic isn’t happy, he always takes the high road.  Check his tweets from yesterday:

Tweet #1: The reason I haven’t tweeted in 2 days is because I’ve been mourning Phil Jackson not being hired as the Lakers head coach.

Tweet #2: My mother always taught me that if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

Well thank goodness for that.  That would’ve been poor form to let his emotions get the best of him so he’d say something that could be construed as offensive or judgmental.  Tweeting out a belated response to the hiring of Mike D’Antoni – likening the emotion he felt at that moment to bereavement – is totes the higher road.

But we mustn’t always rely on flawless, measured tweets to keep a level head, amigos.  What happens if you’re put on the spot?  What then??  How in the dickens can one expect to keep it real while still taking the high road?  That’s easy.  Check how Magic – the master of spin and good guy vibes – schooled the media, right after Mike Brown was fired:

(Response to question from Sam Amick of USA Today regarding his alleged role in getting Mike Brown fired):

“It’s so stupid.  They’re so misinformed.  I have never talked to Dr. Buss about firing Mike Brown.  I’ve seen Dr. Buss one time.  I visited with Dr. Buss three months ago.  I had a great visit with him.  We were just reminiscing.  That (claim about Brown) was coming from Mike Brown’s camp, that they thought I played a role in this.  But let me tell you something about Dr. Buss.  First of all, I didn’t do it.  Second of all, if I had a role in it, I’d tell the world.  I don’t have no problem telling people (laughs).  That’s easy.  If I went to tell (Dr. Buss) that, ‘Hey Mike Brown should be out,’ and they fired him, and then somebody said, ‘Well Magic had a hand in it,’ I’d say ‘Yeah, I had a hand in it.’ (laughs).  Have I been telling him from Day One that this guy wasn’t the right guy?  Yes, I’ve said that.  I said that on the air last year.  I’ve always backed up what I say.  But have I went to Dr. Buss ever and said ‘fire this guy’?  Never.  Have I talked to Dr. Buss about Mike Brown ever?  No.”

Well that settles that.  Magic never said to fire Mike Brown because he’s only seen Dr. Buss one time and the only reason this is being suggested is because Mike Brown is making up lies about Magic, but Magic has been telling Dr. Buss since Day One that he was the wrong coach for the Lakers, but never specifically told him to fire Mike Brown, because he’s never actually talked to Dr. Buss about Mike Brown ever.

Cool?  Cool.

Contradictions? Double-speak? Nonsense. How can you not trust that smile.

Now, these reactions may seem like an indictment on Mike D’Antoni and Mike Brown, but they’re not, okay?  Those two are just collateral damage to Magic’s digs at Jimbo Buss’ decision making.  And if we’re talking objectively and for realsies, it’s hard to argue that Phil Jackson might have been a pretty good coach for the Lakers.

And actually, who wouldn’t be okay with Magic being somewhat judgmental of Jimbo Buss’ decision making?  There has only been one recorded instance in which Dr. Jerry Buss and his son Jimbo had a conversation, and it wasn’t the most flattering for the younger Buss.

Mea Culpa Friday’s: SacTown’s Batman Falls Down

Considering the Batman parallel to this post, I was gonna use something more Batman-y, but then I found this pic of Thomas Robinson and said to myself “screw that noise, I’m using this pic from”

Whaddup boom diddly’s.

As hard as I try not to make predictions and bold declarations, sometimes I just can’t help myself.  Like the time I declared that Ben Tate would lead Arian Foster in every relevant rushing category, or that my fair Blazers would lose on opening night to the Lakers, or when I had this to say about Thomas Robinson getting drafted by the Sacramento Kings:

Sacramento just picked the best story of the draft: Thomas Robinson.  As my buddy Mike pointed out – how’s he gonna react to playing with bozos like Tyreke Evans and Demarcus Cousins? 

King’s management may have just screwed themselves.  If there’s one man’s man superhero (in the guise of a common man) out there that will force the Maloofs to keep the Kings in Sacramento…it’s Thomas Robinson.  He’s the closest thing to Batman I’ve seen since I looked in the mirror and lied to myself.

Then, my fair Batman of SacTown threw an elbow and in the process beat Jonas Jerebko like a Betty Crocker cake mix.

Woof.  This is why I don’t gamble.  I would be embarrassed but I don’t care to make the emotional effort to feel anything about my dumb/inadvertent predictions, because I’m an unqualified ranter of the internets, who’s broke as fuck but gets by in life with a steady flow of high fives, charcoal filtered vodka, and Andrew W.K. music.

Even still, don’t you worry homies.  I’ll take a shot of Fireball for each reckless futuristic prediction of all things SPORTS.  But back to Thomas Robinson.  Is this a huge deal?  Naaaa.  Shit gets real in the post game, and sometimes you just gotta throw a big burly elbow so a guy stops sashaying behind you while softly grasping your hips (looking at you Jonas).  Just avoid the elbow to the neck next time…mmmkay Thomas?

Anyhoo, TRob, you’re still Batman.  Even Batman falls down.  He just gets back up.  That’s like the entire premise of Batman Begins.

It should be noted, that my recklessness in praising TRob had some collateral damage by inadvertently throwing a certain Kings player – my favorite Kings player – under the bus.  Apologies.  It will never happen again.  Always remember kiddies: Boogie is, and always will be, #1.

2012-2013 Trail Blazers Opening Night Activity: Trade Trees, The Sun Shining on a Dog’s Ass, and How CP3 turned into Damian Lillard

Happy Halloween chumps. Let’s make this quick.

I’ve got big plans for the evening that involves eating all the leftover Halloween candy we got for the trick or treaters (that is to say, “all” of the Halloween candy), drinking moderately*, and yelling at my TV as I watch my Blazers take on the Lakers and their devastating Princeton offense. Tonight’s game isn’t the purpose for this post, but just for funsies, I’ll do a one word preview of how I think the Blazers will do: “Notgood”. (Post-game notes included at the end of the post)

Se la vie. I’ll watch anyways.

But no, bozos, this is not a post about tonight’s game. It’s a spinoff of this tweet from Ben Golliver of, after the Blazers announced they were not picking up the options on young guns Luke Babbitt, Nolan Smith, and Elliot Williams:

Welp. Clearly that’s the sign of a solid young program making sound draft decisions and reloading rather than rebuilding.

But just because every player drafted between 2007 and now is close to being gone, it’s worth noting that as a whole, the NBA is a very irrational marketplace. So much so that even dumbass decisions can somehow go through convoluted bullshittery and somehow be the bestnewsever(!) for a future generation.

For example: when the Blazers acquired the #6 overall pick this past draft from the Nets, I went batshit crazy, and did the whitest of all whiteboy happy dances. With that pick the Blazers selected Damian Lillard, and I haven’t shut up about him since.

On the other end of the spectrum…in 2005, the Blazers made a brilliant maneuver when they were awarded the #3 overall pick (aka, the rights to either Chris Paul or Deron Williams). They traded it. Obvi. But check my trade tree and see what happens. (Note: red boxes signify a player that is currently on the roster.)

Yes, I could’ve written this out. But that would be boring for everyone and Microsoft Paint diagrams are basically the best thing ever. BTW, who’s that stud muffin with too much time on his hands??? THIS GUY.

I always liked to joke that the Blazers traded the rights to CP3 for Martell Webster, who was later traded for Luke Babbitt. So basically…CP3 = Luke Babbitt (#math). But I was ignoring the other two parts of the trade tree, until I actually thought it through. This year the Blazers have Luke Babbitt, Joel Freeland and – thanks to a long chain of events – Damian Lillard due to that trade. (Editors note: forgot to include this tidbit – the Blazers gave up a 2013 1st rounder, that is top 12 protected. Meaning, if the Blazers overachieve and make the Playoffs, they don’t get a 1st rounder. Just a big FYI for all of ya’s.)

Now look here: I’m not saying that the 2005 trade was good or smart. It was astoundingly stupid, and it remains classified as so. It’s just weird that my 2012 whitest of whiteboy happy dances and my 2005 screamfest of “what the hell are you doing???” are distantly related.

What does this mean? Who the fuck knows. Probably that this here author spends wayyyyy too much brain power thinking about all things Blazers, past and present. But mostly, the big takeaway should be this: the sun shines on every dog’s ass once in awhile. And considering this phrase can appropriately be used to describe the past managerial decisions of my favorite sports team, I find this news to be quite satisfactory.

(More Editor’s notes: Lillard proved why I did my whiteboy happy dance when we got him. My one word preview at the beginning of the post proved to be dead wrong. I’ve never been so thrilled to be wrong in my life. This feeling may not last, but I’m enjoyingthefuckinghell out of it for now.)

NFL Prepping: MoJo’s Last Stand, Jeff Ireland’s Guide To Dumping Someone, Getting Beaten In Fantasy Football By Girls & Making Vegans Fussy

Introducing the single greatest NFL mind West of the Willamette River, South of Burnside Street, between the ages of 28 and 30, who is legally unemployed.

When I started this here blog the intent was to spit out the ranting thoughts of a dumbass with borderline ADHD and keep the word count to a minimum.  I can’t focus on a blog/column for more than 750 words, so why should I expect anyone else to.  Somewhere along the line this turned into an absolute clusterfuck.  We’re goin’ back to the drawing board, amigos.  Let’s keep this one tight.  The irony, of course, is I just wasted 93 words apologizing before even starting my first NFL post of the season. 


Thought #1: MoJo’s Last Stand

I still call Maurice Jones Drew “MoJo” because it’s more fun to say than MJD.  He’s holding out and in a bit of a tiff with the Jags over a new contract (obvi).  The aforementioned tiff escalated significantly after the Jaguars new owner, Shahid Khan, made some comment along the lines of “The train’s leaving.  Get on or get off.”  Because that’s totes the thing to say to the media about a team captain that’s carried your team for several years.  Whenever I think of NFL owners I imagine them being some incarnation of Jerry Jones.  Especially when they say tough guy things about trains leaving.  When I first heard the quote, I shrugged it off as a rich wannabe tough guy being a bozo.  Then I saw what Khan actually looked like.  Now I just find it all kinds of awesome.  This is the exact kinda guy I wanna challenge to a friendly battle of wits.  My preferred topic: Trickle-down Economic Theory in the United States.  Your move Khan.  Accept or decline!

Regarding our upcoming battle of wits, Chunk’s Revenge only partakes in such chicanery while shitfaced drunk or buzzing on bath salts. Ye haveth been warned.

Thought #2: “The Lost Art of Breaking Up Like a Fucking Bozo”, by Jeff Ireland

The Miami Dolphins are featured in this season’s Hard Knocks, and last Tuesday we were treated to the mastery of GM Jeff Ireland when crushing a player with the news he had just been traded.  The abbreviated version of his conversation with cornerback Vontae Davis:
Ireland: You’ve been traded to Indianapolis.
Davis: Oh.  I need to call my grandma.
Ireland: No.  Let me tell you why.
Davis: Okay.
Ireland: You’ve been too up and down.  That doesn’t work for us.
Davis: Oh…who’d you trade me for?
Ireland: Couple of draft picks.  (Davis stares at him, shocked.)  Yep.  Couple of draft picks.
Davis: Okay.  (Gets up to leave ASAP)
Ireland: Wait! Stop.  I seriously think you’re  a nice guy.
Davis: Okay.  Thanks. 
Ireland (who gets out of his chair to stop Davis again): Wait!  Stop.  It’s just that you’re soooo inconsistent.  We’ve had a lot of ups and downs.  I think this is best for everyone.

Basically, Ireland broke up with him three times in two minutes.  It was the most inefficient/offensive breakup ever.  For his wife’s sake, I hope he never asks for a divorce.  He’ll talk about how she’s a great person while detailing her shortcomings and won’t let her leave the room in an attempt to make her understand his decision, all while piling on more.

“I’m leaving you. Why? You’re a good person and all, but you’ve really fallen short in too many areas to list. Who am I leaving you for? I have a couple of good leads on Yep. A couple of good leads on”

Thought #3: Offensive Player of the Year – LeSean McCoy

A couple of years back I invited my wife to join my newly formed Fantasy league in the hopes that she’d learn that it’s crazily addictive, and she’d stop asking why I was so involved in every game from Thursday through Monday.  The good news, it worked.  The bad news, I created a monster and three years later she walks into each draft party with the kind of swagger that hasn’t been seen since the 1986-1987 Miami Hurricanes showed up for the Fiesta Bowl.  Making matters worse: she has a tendency to beat me, and always makes a better pick than me in the first round.  She got LeSean McCoy this year, which pretty much means he’ll dominate this season. 

Wife drafts LeSean McCoy = He’ll have a great season = Emasculating Fantasy Football season for Chunk’s Revenge. #Science

Thought #4: Ben Tate will be a Top 5 RB this year, and best Arian Foster in every relevant statistic

Look – I know Arian Foster’s good and he seems like an interesting guy.  My issue is he became a vegan in the offseason.  Now, I was born and raised in Portland and therefore grew up appreciating the vegan lifestyle.  If you’re a vegan, then kudos to you.  Problem is, I wouldn’t be thrilled if my prized #1 running back made such a decision.  Being vegan is just dandy.  It’s just not ideal for a guy getting pummeled by 300 pound men while he carries the rock 25 times a game.  He’s already injury prone and his new lifestyle isn’t gonna help in terms of on-the-field production. 

The vegans may judge me.  But seriously guys, screw you.  Quit being so judgmental.

Vegans: I was honest to God TRYING to find a pic that would poke fun at my whole “judgmental” claim…maybe show some hot babes shunning me for my criticism. Instead I stumbled across this. Seriously. WTF.

Breaking Bad: Spoiler Free Commentary for the Newbies & The Plight of Skyler White (No Newbies Allowed)

Breaking Bad. So hot right now.

Talking about the most recent episode of Breaking Bad in public is a big fucking no-no. It’s not that people don’t like the show. Most people actually love it. But there are still so many people in the world that haven’t caught up to this season, or they haven’t watched the last episode yet (because they DVR’d it and are saving multiple episodes so they can watch several in a row because every single time an episode ends the audience is more hooked than an Albuquerque meth head) that…holy shit. I lost my train of thought there. Breaking Bad does this to me.

Here’s the bottom line, amigos: I know that spoilers suck, especially with this show. I was on a flight from LAX to PDX and started vaguely discussing the show with the guy sitting next to me, and some dudes behind us had covered their ears and began scolding us for even talking about it…even though we were talking about Season 1 (and not giving away any plot points). Funny thing is, I didn’t even defend myself. I totally get where they’re coming from…then strongly encouraged them to catch up, and catch up quick. So, this should go without saying: I won’t be giving away plotlines or anything like that. I’m simply going to lay out my thoughts for three types of people:

1). Those who haven’t started watching the show yet;
2). Those who started, but haven’t continued because “it’s not for you”; and
3). Asking a question to my fellow viewers that are “in too deep”.

Now. While I won’t be giving away plotlines or spoiling shit for any of yous, I know for a fact there are some Frank Costanzas out there, who never want to hear anything about a show even if it gives absolutely nothing away. You know who you are.

So if that’s you, then fine, I won’t preach to you. You can stop reading after point #2…just as long as you promise me that you’ll watch all of Season 1. It’s imperative that you watch the entire season.

As for the rest of yous. Shall we?

#1: To those who haven’t started watching the show yet

What the funk is wrong with you? Unless you wanna miss out on an epic TV program and find out what happens in the series finale (ala “The Sopranos”) you’ve gotta get your head and your ass wired together and go in for the big win. Catch up so you can witness history with the rest of humanity. Seasons 1 through 4 are available on Netflix Instant, and the service is easy to use and costs like seven bucks a month. If you have Netflix Instant, it’s just sitting there waiting for you. If you don’t, you should just get it already. Remember the days when you had to go to your local Blockbuster and pay $4.99 for every DVD you rented? I watched the first season of Dexter using Blockbuster DVDs. Problem was they spread the season out over 3 or 4 discs and I ended up paying 20-something-dollars to find out what happened. Blockbuster then offered me this super awesome deal where I could “only” pay $35 a month to get unlimited videos. What a super deal right? Since I was broke ass man I didn’t bite. Well…I bit, then canceled it after finishing three seasons of Dexter because this is America and that’s my right. At the time, Netflix Instant didn’t have much of a selection, especially when it came to TV shows. But now…whoa. They’ve got some good stuff. And it still only costs a few bucks a month. If you have Dish Network, then you kinda have to sign up to catch AMC’s stuff, which has some of the best shows on TV along with Breaking Bad (which is the best, obvi). Oh, and by the way, fuck those fatcats at Dish Network. Oh…and for my 2nd BTW in a row, here’s a fun fact: AMC promptly posts their material on Netflix Instant (which charges $7 a month)…Dish Network owns Blockbuster (which has since dropped their fees since those $4.99 days, but in their best case scenario charges way more per view than Netflix Instant). Fun!

Excerpt from the article linked above. Thanks for dragging 14,000,000 people into your completely unjustified and off-base pissing match, Dish Network! You’re totes the best. For reals.

#2: To those who started and didn’t continue because “it’s not for you”

Look. I get it. I rented the first couple of episodes on DVD at Blockbuster a long while back (for $4.99…holla!). I too, didn’t think it was for me. But since my friends wouldn’t shut up about it, I gave it another go a few months later. Now I’m literally counting the days until this coming Sunday. My brother was the same way as I once was, and had little interest in continuing the show. When he told me he had made it through episode 5 of season 1, I told him: “Trust me. Watch episode 6,” and I said this without an ounce of sarcasm. Part of the beauty in Breaking Bad is that they don’t do the classic TV show thing, which is blow the audience’s collective mind early in the season (only to drag on and disappoint you later on). They establish a story line, establish the characters, and build up drama from there. Episodes 1 through 5 in Season 1 establish the foundation. Episode 6 punches you in the face with nothing but awesome. I made my brother watch that episode. He then plowed through all four seasons in a couple of weeks. There are only 7 episodes in Season 1. If you don’t like it at that point, then fine. Just drop it. My guess is you’ll continue on.

“Yo, just give Mr. White and me a chance…bitch.”
– Jesse Pinkman

#3: Asking a question to my fellow viewers that are “in too deep”(Skip this if you aren’t through Season 3)

I got into an animated discussion with a pal over beers while we floated in a lake in Arizona about Skyler White. He hates her. I don’t. The booze didn’t help the cordiality of this conversation. But don’t worry, we agreed to disagree, and buried the hatchet over shotgunning beers and exchanging hugs. I wouldn’t say this mentality towards Skyler is common but I’ve seen enough of a backlash against her (beginning in Season 3) that it makes me wonder. Why in the hell is she the one to get hated on? I won’t give much away, but if you haven’t made it through Season 3 I’d suggest skipping the rest of this paragraph just in case your inner Frank Costanza busts out. So if I have this right: the main premise of the show is Walt’s deterioration as a human being, and how he’s basically losing his soul. Skyler isn’t good, per se, but her reactions towards him are at least somewhat understandable given the shit-show of a world Walt has dragged their family in to. I’m entirely caught up on the show and let me point out the obvious: Walter White from the Pilot Episode is not the same guy as the Walter White from Episode 6 of Season 5. Any argument that he is still “doing what he’s doing for his family” is bullshit. That argument went out the window during the episodes available on Netflix Instant. If he’s not the same guy, then why would she treat him the same way? Sure, she’s to blame for some of it as well, and she made bad decisions along the way. But Walt’s decision-making and ego has put them where they are today. By saying this, perhaps I’m violating the age-old “Bros Before Hoes” mantra. Feel free to diss me and tell me that I am. Just be prepped for a dramatic debate (sans spoilers out of respect for the bozos that haven’t yet caught up). But it should also be said, in the most recent Rolling Stone, Vince Gilligan (show creator) and Aaron Paul (who plays Jesse) praise Bryan Cranston’s performance as Walt because he has somehow convinced the show’s followers to root for him. Gilligan compares it to Stockholm Syndrome. Important note: if you’re avoiding spoilers from Seasons 1 through 4, DON’T READ THE NEWEST ROLLING STONE.

So there you have it. My very best attempt at championing the brilliance of Breaking Bad without giving away plotlines. I haven’t been so vague in describing something since my first Podcast with Brother Gage. Feel free to take a listen to that if you have absolutely no life and want to waste 43 minutes of your day (this is not a self-deprecating comment – I’m dead fucking serious).

Talk to you soon, amigos. I’m out.

Final Olympic Thoughts: Ryan Lochte Cramping My Style, a Mea Culpa to Marta Menegatti, Pervy Cameramen, & a Microsoft Paint Picture

Look here, bozos. I know the Olympics have been over for a few days, so talking more about Olympic things is just downright NONSENSE and I should just move on and not do any more posts on the matter. But I was out of town (“off the grid” so to speak) for the conclusion of the Olympics, and then spent the past three days slowly de-bloating and sobering up from a raucous time deep in the Arizona desert. So tending to this blog just wasn’t gonna happen. I can’t blog when I’m hungover and feel fat. As a grown ass man I shouldn’t tell you these things, but Chunk’s Revenge is all about KEEPIN IT REAL, so there will be no apologies. I just don’t like writing when I feel fat, okay?

Did our valiant blogger just use premenstrual-like symptoms to justify his ignoring the blog for a week and a half? #Fosho.

That said, I won’t make this long. The Olympics are over and the shorter I make this, the sooner we can move on with our lives. Here are 3 random thoughts from the 2012 Games:

1). Ryan Lochte’s cramping my style

Ryan Lochte went from “so hot right now”, to officially unseating Michael Phelps as the greatest swimmer alive, to being exposed for being a bit of a douchebag, to “disappointing” everyone with “just” 5 medals (and only 2 golds…he’s no Phelps…pfft!), to being exposed as a more than just a douchebag, but more of a frat boy dumbass. Look: the guy is an Olympian, and a very good one to boot. But here are my thoughts:

a). In the douchebag article I linked to above (an absolute must read if you haven’t already), it was brought to my attention that Lochte has a catchphrase. What it is: “Jeah!”

Dude… I say “jeah”. When I found this out, and discovered that saying it was tainted forever, I felt like Milhouse when some goon from Shelbyville stole the word “radical”.

b). I’m not going to pretend to know all that much about Ryan Lochte, and I’m not a total fanboy of Fast Times at Ridgemont High or anything, but you cannot tell me that Ryan Lochte doesn’t remind you of Spicoli. Like if Spicoli had a little brother that was blessed as a great swimmer, trained hard, wasn’t quite so obvious about being a pothead, and was constantly being coached about how to interact with the media. Listen to Ryan Lochte. He’s fucking Spicoli. Mind you, this isn’t an insult. I actually kinda like him more now.

2). A couple weeks back I posted a little write up of the babes of the Olympics, and did this cutesy little schtick in which I incorporated horrendously failed pickup lines from my college days. Why did I do it like that? Well, this blog is nothing if it isn’t completely all over the place and at times downright confusing. That’s just what I do. That said, by the time I waltzed on down that rabbit hole of using old pickup lines I got tired of doing it and didn’t much care to continue my search for total babe athletes. During a beach volleyball match, I realized I completely wiffed on arguably the hottest babe of the Olympics. Italian beach volleyballer, Marta Menegatti.

Photo courtesy of the Facebook page Olympic Hunting ( This Facebook page gets a Chunk’s Revenge stamp of approval. Link posted below.

Let me just say this on her exclusion from my original list: I’M SORRY. I would go into a long winded justification but it would just take too long. Believe me, I just deleted like 1,000 words of apologies to Marta…and to you too, gentle reader, for failing you. Just trust me on this. I haven’t apologized so profusely since I lost my virginity.

3). Shall we jam a few basketball thoughts into one bullet point? You bet!

– Great showing in the tournament by Nic Batum after signing a $46,000,000 contract with the Blazers. We got the typical Batum (flashes of brilliance then disappearing for quarters at a time) and the new RICH MAN Batum (not playing great, not leaving an impact when it mattered most, punching a competitor in the nuts when the game was out of reach, then somehow trying to justify it post-game because the Spaniards were basically being punks, while ignoring the fact that he was the biggest punk of all…and a loser to boot). Nic: I know it’s your home country and all, but quit acting so FRENCH.

– LeBron James. Just…Jesus Christ. I’m sorry for ever doubting you.


“It’s all good Chunk’s Revenge. Your past criticism was probably the result of your own failures manifesting itself through critiques of the absurdly talented and wealthy.”


– Kudos to the cameramen during the games for zooming up on babes in the crowd. In the zoom ups, you either got a shot of a babe or a total bozo. Both good things. They really upped the ante during the Lithuania game when zooming up on babes. They found a young lady eating a banana, and kept the shot on her for an extended period while she chewed before cutting away when she didn’t take another bite. Good show fellas. You may act like that was an innocent act. But I know what you were doing.

I don’t really need a caption for this pic, because I already included it in the picture with Microsoft Paint. No big deal.


Until next time amigos, I’m out.

The Babes of the Olympics & Failed Drunken Pickup Lines From Yesteryear

When I was in college my buddies inadvertently created a system that gauged their interest in a young lady’s company, based on their tact in pursuit. It’s not so much a scoring system, per se, but moreso a combination of factors (the girl’s attractiveness, attainableness, approachableness, etc.) that would determine how they spit their game. To this day, they have no idea that there was a method to their madness, but there really was. If you took a step back and saw how they approached a gal, the level of their interest (or perhaps more appropriately, the chances they thought they had) was easily deciphered. Or maybe it could have been their level of intoxication. Either way. I gauged their interest on how they approached, and the amount of effort put forth in landing the little lady as a prospective girlfriend. (Was I involved in these shenanigans? Maybe. BUT I’M NOT TELLING!)

Now, with the Olympics going on, I’ve been subjected to watching some tape-delayed bullshit while I try to figure out when “events-of-interest” will be aired. The silver lining in this is that I have come across some athletes and/or events that I wouldn’t have watched had NBC actually had their shit together. For the sake of this post, we’ll be zeroing in on the athletes of interest, and more specifically, the total babes that are participating. We’ll also be deciding the appropriate failed pickup line/internal monologue (plagiarized from my crew during our college years) to use on them if they are ever encountered in public. Sound confusing enough? GOOD. Let’s get started:

Pickup Line #1: “Damn girl. You so fine that I’m gonna start a conversation with you by introducing you to my friend.”

Probably the worst way to pick up a girl. But the fact that our hero, in this case, engaged her in conversation was enough to determine that he was illogically hoping that somehow introducing her to his friend would be a good thing. Maybe end with him doing a victory lap around his twin sized bed. Works every time (note: it never works). Even still. There was some hope there in his drunken stupor…and the gal was hot enough to give that fruitless tact a go.

Selected Olympian for Pickup Line #1: LoLo Jones, Hurdler, USA

Because she’s intimidatingly hot enough that you might accidentally pawn her off on a friend. Unrelated side note: she’s a well-publicized V-card holder. Is this true? Does she say it for the endorsements? Is she one of those guilt ravaged religious folk that justifies her V-card to be intact on a technicality? Who knows.

Pickup Line #2: “Gawdam that babe is hot. I need to make an impression. Let’s skip the pleasantries of getting to know each other and I’ll floor her with my machismo by sneaking up on her and nibbling on her ear.”

Yep. This happened. I’m sure it made sense at the time. Jagermeister will make a man do curious things.

Selected Olympian for Pickup Line #2: Jaque, Volleyball, Brazil

Because…look at her. Look at this picture and tell me you wouldn’t sneak up on this babe and give her ear a nibble even though she has no idea who you are. You wouldn’t? Well, me neither. But somehow I had to squeeze a publication of this nibble maneuver into the post. But for reals. I watched an entire womens volleyball match because of Jaque, and vivaciously rooted for a Brazilian victory. Even though they were playing the USA.

Pickup Line #3: “Hey gurl. You all kindsa fine. What say you to going back to the common area of my dorm room. I’ll throw on the Nelly album, play the song Dilemma on repeat for 56 straight minutes, and tell you about my hopes and dreams.”

On paper, this should totes work. Especially when the smooth Casanova in question is shitfaced drunk. How could that not work?

Selected Olympian for Pickup Line #3: Leryn Franco, Javelin, Paraguay

Because she seems like a wholesome type of babe who is able to put up with the chicanery of a doofus. And if nothing else, she throws javelin as a profession, so she could pierce the CD player with a flying object once Nelly’s Dilemma started on the 57th minute and/or dole out an appropriate beatdown of the aforementioned smooth Casanova.

Pickup Line #4: “I like you. Why don’t you come back to my place. No, no. Not like that. But we’re throwing an after party and having a beer pong tournament.”

The brilliance/idiocy in this maneuver was that there never was a beer pong tournament or an after party. This line always occurred at like 2:30AM, and everyone was passed out. But in the mind of the drunken college boy, getting a girl back to the pad was half the battle. Upon the realization that there was no after party and no beer pong tournament, drunken college boy would just say, “Well schucks. I guess the party is over. Soooo…since you’re already here…”

Selected Olympian for Pickup Line #4: Marlen Esparza, Boxing, USA

Because a punch to the face was always the end result when using this pickup line.

Pickup Line #5: “I had a great time freak dancing with you tonight. Hows about we go out sometime? Say, Saturday? You’re busy? Okay, what about next week? Fine, next month. I’m free all next month.”

How this girl chose to freak dance with this yuppie will forever be a mystery. But it happened and it was fucking awesome. Even if she didn’t express immediate interest in rekindling the fire experienced on the muggy dance floor of a frat house party, he just had to try and lock that down. “Shame” isn’t much a deterrent when the upside is so high. There was little to no chance it would happen. But the only thought going through our hero’s mind was…but what if?

Selected Olympian for Pickup Line #5: Michelle Jenneke, Hurdler, Australia

Because the way that gal dances, it would be enough for any red-blooded man to throw caution to the wind and show a willingness to make a complete ass of himself (even if there wasn’t a chance in hell that he could pull it off).

Pickup Line #6: “I think we have something going on here. Can I take you out to a classy dinner on the bay on Tuesday night? Why Tuesday, you ask? It just seems like a good night for a date.”

Tuesday night was usually a two-for-one dinner special at a classy joint on the bay where we went to college. The ladies didn’t seem to know this, so it was essential that our hero, the drunken college boy, adequately faked his shock upon hearing (for the first time…wink wink) that he got a cheap dinner. This was the kind of girl that seemed cool, fun, and quite hot. But still. There was a justification to do a “feel it out” date (in case she wasn’t that interested) in the form of a two-for-one special.

Selected Olympian for Pickup Line #6: Caroline Wozniacki, Tennis, Denmark

Because I don’t know where else to put her.

Pickup Line #7: “You’re so great I’m gonna find a Zagat rated restaurant with the most STARS for a single “$”

Come on. We were in college for goodness sakes. Just because our hero in this case was being frugal shouldn’t take away from the fact that he was trying to take a date out for a nice dinner at a Zagat rated restaurant. If he had a full time job, I’m sure he would have gone for a restaurant with TWO “$$”.

Selected Olympian for Pickup Line #7: Alex Morgan, Soccer, USA

Because you just take Alex Morgan to a Zagat rated dinner, dammit. That’s just how things are done.

Pickup Line #8: “For reals. I fuckin love you, okay??”

Pretty self explanatory right there.

Selected Olympian for Pickup Line #8: Michelle Jenneke, Hurdler, Australia

Because I honestly feel that this video should be posted twice.

The Inadvertent Brilliance of Parent Texting Fails: Misspelling “Come” in Texts to Friends

There are several sites online that crack wise about the mishaps of parents while texting their children. Whether they send a scandalous text to the wrong person, misuse an acronym, or whatever, texts from parents are always wild cards. I estimate there is a 25% chance that hilarity will ensue if you’re receiving a text from a parent that is just getting used to the whole texting game.

Like this:

There’s a small part of me that wants to sympathize with their snafus, knowing that there will be a day when I’m “that guy” not keeping up with technological advances and the ever-growing language that comes with it. But most of me just wants to embrace the moment, point my finger, laugh out loud, and tweet out a snapshot of the text with a caption that reads “FAIL!” My justification: no matter how nice I am now, I won’t be sheltered from the wrath of my (future) wiener little kids when their dear old dad makes an ass of himself. That’s just how the parent/child relationship works.

I thought I had seen pretty much everything when it comes to this type of stuff, but was treated to this little ditty from a pal of mine, who got a text from his dad that went something like this:

Translation: “Going to In N Out. Want to come?”
Full Disclosure: Is this the original text? Nope. So why not just type it out then? Because most of the traffic to Chunk’s Revenge is through Google searches, and typing out the infamous text would create trigger words that may direct some odd ducks to the site, to say the least. Regardless, this is what was said. I know this because when I saw what was written, it was the only time I pissed myself as a grown man (when booze was not involved).

So…what he did there: he got too gung-ho with the abbreviations, and even went so far as to shorten the word “come”.

Now. Let’s call this what it is. It’s goddamned brilliant. And this goes way beyond the double meaning. You see, the dad, in this case, insisted that he had no idea what his son was talking about when he got justifiably fussy about his dad giving the hard “U” in the word “come”. I find that hard to believe. But here’s what’s brilliant: there is no way to prove it.

If he were to stay steadfast in his denial, arguing such a point would only make the arguer look more perverse for knowing what such a word meant. It’d be like admitting to being hip to perverted slang or something. It’s not that big of a deal…but still. Not something you’d admit willy nilly if your partner in conversation was playing dumb.

Which got me to thinking. This denial could extend to just about anyone, not just parents.

Misspelling “come” can work for everyone. Nobody really says it conversation. And they sure as shit don’t text it to each other, so a single denial should bring about a reasonable belief that the abbreviation was simply a naive snafu. If someone were to argue that it was intentional, if you’re defense is bullheaded enough nobody is going to spend too much time debating this fact. That would put them in the unenviable spot of describing what that means to a grown ass man. They’ll just take the horrific mental image and move on. They don’t want to admit that they know what it means if you insist that you don’t.

So here’s a thought: why don’t we all use this as an effective prank when texting friends? You are guaranteed two things: 1). A mentally scarred friend that suddenly has a scathing innuendo included in an honest text, 2). An innocent out.

Like I said. Nobody will argue that you actually know what it means. They’ll just assume you’re naïve, and move on.

So that’s the new game from now on. Anytime you want a friend to tag along somewhere, ask if they will “come” (be sure to abbreviate to save precious texting space).

You will rest well knowing that they just got a graphic/pervy thought in their mind, but you can totes blame it on them. After all, they are the ones that know what the word means. Not you.

So for that, I thank you texting parents. Whether it was intentional or not, it doesn’t matter. Your shortcutting texting habits have made the world better for the pranksters of the world.

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