Madden Craves Bacon

I was watching football the last night, which I almost never do. It's just not my sport, and never has been. However, on this particular occasion, I was hanging out with my dad, who is the polar opposite of me in that respect. Such as that he was engrossed in football, as I was reading his newspaper, stealing coupons, and making random small talk about who works more overtime. Around that time the Patriots game came on. John Madden was doing commentary per usual, which has always been interesting to me as I think he's well on his way to mental illness. His commentaries often make about as much sense as George Foreman's recent attempts, which has caused me on more than one pay-per-view occasion to wonder if George was commenting on the current fight or was having a delusional flashback of a past ass-beating. After all, this is the man who named all of his sons "George". Really hard to forget the name of one of those fuckers. While neither is quite at Harry Caray status yet, John still has some really trippy moments. I expect a future game to go something like this:

Al Michaels: John, what do you think the Kansas City defense needs to do to win this football game?
John Madden: Taffy is delicious...
Al Michaels: Astute as always John.

Now I'm just digressing instead of telling a story that takes me about 15 seconds to tell in real life. Anyhow, John was attempting to say something about Peyton Manning, when he slipped and said "quarter-bacon" instead of "quarter-back". My dad insists he said "quarter-back'in", but his hearing isn't so good. I'm going to stick by my initial interpretation of bacon. After all, can't you just picture dreams of bacon dancing through his head during the game? It would certainly explain why he seems to be at least two plays behind sometimes. I leave you with this little MS Paint creation, as I'm bored and it seemed funny to me.

Portland's Fear of Public Urination

I think that's the catchiest headline I've had in awhile. I just got back from a weekend business trip in Portland, and thought I'd give an extremely biased and possibly offensive evaluation based on my two days in the city.

Observation #1: You guys really like your organic stuff. The veg is organic. The beef is organic. The beer and the coffee are also organic. The resulting BM.... toxic.

Observation #2: I can't navigate your city. I got lost and popped out the other side of Portland somewhere around Beaverton and Lewis & Clark College. I repeated this several times. You make me feel retarded, Portland. I will still always think of Beaverton as Beavertown somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, however.

Observation #3: The urinal/stall ratio is quite a bit different in the Pacific Northwest. The restroom at the airport had at least 9 stalls and no more than 3 urinals. An astonishing 3:1 ratio. I blame your [Oregonion] liberal upbringing on instilling a great deal of shame in public urination. It's a far cry from the typical Kansan restroom, which usually consists of a horse trough surrounded by urinating cowfolk playing swords and a fecal bucket in the corner. The heightened stall ratio might be because of the effects of all that organic food though too.

Observation #4: You've got more emo myspace kids than we do.

Observation #5: I smell better after wallowing in my own filfth than the one guy with the neckbeard does at Mojo's Coffee Den. I just do okay.

It was a nice visit, but it is nice to be back home with my two kitties (Howard Taft and Trixie the Whore). I'm sure once I get a new digital camera (the last one was lost on the San Fransisco trip, some pics uploaded here), I'll upload some pics of them being retarded.