In nations that love soccer, most people know that the FIFA rankings are bullshit. There are many multipliers that change the values of games, and the validity of those multipliers is fairly disputable. You could get equal indifference to FIFA rankings in nations higher up the list.
I've always admired ESPN's sense of humor. For being several channels strictly dedicated to sports and sometimes spelling bees, ESPN's commercials are generally always hilarious.
But, before anyone says anything, please notice that the oceans also voted for Batman.
"I do not know what movie everyone else saw but the WALL-E I saw with my two children ages 13 and 9, offended me and my kids on so many levels. We felt we had been cheated and lied to. If I would have known how environazi this movie was I would not have gone seen it. Did Al Gore have something to do with this movie? Yes WALL-E was cute, but we as earthings are not that stupid. It was very much saying that we are destroyng the Earth and that all of us are fat lazy slobs!!! How about lets save the unborn children!!"
"Ps...For the love of God, please keep the fish alive. Simply thaw out the fish food for 15 seconds, cut up the cubes into small pieces, and throw into the tank- Mon, Wed, and Friday’s. I can come in and do it, but I am very expensive hourly- I don’t think you can afford it. (Ha! That’s what She said!!! Lololololol….Oh, I’m gonna miss that… ) No, seriously, please keep the fish alive."
Tonya and I (A Choose Your Own Adventure)
Life is wild! Yes, I’m sure this doesn’t come as a surprise to many of you. But to me many things come as a surprise. You see, I do not have any short-term memory. So my friends like to play a game where they continuously hide behind walls and jump out and spook me! I’ll get them one day.
Life is wild! Yes, I’m sure this doesn’t come as a surprise to many of you. But to me many things come as a surprise. You see, I do not have any short-term memory. So my friends like to play a game where they continuously hide behind walls and jump out and spook me! I’ll get them one day.
Anyway, my girlfriend of seven minutes Tonya and I have decided to move to the beach where there is an enclave of people without short-term memory. An enclave for people like us. We started our walk to the enclave four weeks ago. Sometimes we get really lost. When that happens we like to fool around in public bathrooms.
Sometimes Tonya and I fight because we don’t know who each other is and we’re wondering why we’re hand-cuffed together until we read the note attached to the hand-cuffs that’s signed in blood by both of us saying we’re life-partners. Then everything is a-okay until Tonya’s inner-demons come out and she beats me unconscious.
However due to the fact that we forget where we put the key, we always make up. We enjoy passionate hand-cuff sex under the bridge. Children think we’re trolls. Tonya has a distinct way of speaking that makes her moans sound like the grinding of train wheels against the tracks. We laugh sometimes at the children and enjoy more passionate sex.
Tonya and I share what she calls a “love-bond.” Wherein this love bond, the food I eat is transferred through the handcuffs and it satiates her as well. I love Tonya so much, I love being bonded to her. She will bear my children one day.
One day we will make it to the enclave where there are no children. Because sometimes the children throw rocks at us, and we can never remember which children did it so we just kill all of the children with and I think we’re wanted in seven states. We have been on the run for three weeks. Tonya and I love each other.
I’m not sure if it’s because we’re an inter-racial couple or it’s the fact that that we’ve been bathing in the creek, but people always look at Tonya and I funny. I’m pretty sure everyone is racist. I hate judgmental people. Just wait until we get to the enclave and when our powers combine I am captain planet.
Walking with Tonya has become increasingly difficult. She’s been sleeping much, much more these days. I wonder why she has been so tired? Sometimes I have to pull her for miles at a time, and the people look at me funny. They just don’t understand inter-racial relationships. I love Tonya so much, even if she is only 13.
Life is wild! Yes, I’m sure this doesn’t come as a surprise to many of you. But to me many things come as a surprise. You see, I do not have any short-term memory. So my friends like to play a game where they continuously hide behind walls and jump out and spook me! I’ll get them one day.
I was right, in this case. The 'ickle first years' were wrong.
(x-posted at Short Stories, Long Odds)
So I've taken up golf lately. Maybe I'm shaking off my inborn liberal guilt, but I've really been enjoying myself, despite all the injuries and searing torso pain.
A few months ago, I started physical therapy for my hands, which included some corrective chiropractic work for a curve in between my shoulder blades, which was likely from some old car wreck injury during the Salad Days of the late 90's. Every thing has been adjusting fine, my hands have improved greatly, and my therapy is going great. However, now my ribs are out of joint.
I've joked about it on twitter, saying I have slippery ribs and what not, and when I went in one morning after waking up feeling like I'd slept funny and said that I thought my ribs were bunched up and crossed over, I learned that that actually sort of happens. The technical term is apparently "having a rib out" and you can shove them back into place.
As my spine corrects and straightens and strengthens, all the soft tissue around the spine gets mad at first and then takes to its new positions after a few hours or days. The ribs, however, are apparently more stubborn and will try to compensate for the new position of everything by trying to get back into the old position.
So when I'm at the driving range doing my best Lee Trevino, I invariably throw a rib into Reverse and end up complaining about my ribmeat the next time I go to see my chiropractor.
"Ice it," he says. "Everything is still figuring out where it wants to be."
This is a strange revelation to hear about your body parts from a medical doctor, that there's some indecision as to proper positioning. On the inside.
But for all that, I enjoy golf. I've played three rounds total lifetime, own a decent set of second-hand clubs, and have managed to not spend very much money at all thus far. I enjoy the game because you can get better by yourself and then, when you're actually playing, you're really only competing with yourself. My first round, which I played in Minnesota in April with my wife's best friend's new husband, was a 140. My second round, at a country club here in Dallas, was a 105. Had I continued at that rate, I'd be shooting in the low twenties right now and riding a wave of fame and fortune.
My third round is sort of a wash as far as scoring goes. I went to play with my brother's best friend Jason and we were at a course just off Lake Lewisville that featured gale-force cross winds for most of the day. I'd been taking golf so seriously up until that day when, on the way to the second hole, Jason stopped the cart girl and loaded up on Miller Lite.
Seeing my initial move to protest that I didn't need any - I'm sure I was going to say something about how you gotta hydrate, bro - he said, "Come on dude, this is aimin' juice."
After that I drank and sliced my way to a 114, derailing my path to becoming a scratch golfer in just 5 rounds (and, no doubt, a tour pro in just 7). And it was one hell of a good time, even if I did have to blame my first 25-foot near miss putt on the wind.
No, really. It was the wind.
So I've taken up golf lately. Maybe I'm shaking off my inborn liberal guilt, but I've really been enjoying myself, despite all the injuries and searing torso pain.
A few months ago, I started physical therapy for my hands, which included some corrective chiropractic work for a curve in between my shoulder blades, which was likely from some old car wreck injury during the Salad Days of the late 90's. Every thing has been adjusting fine, my hands have improved greatly, and my therapy is going great. However, now my ribs are out of joint.
I've joked about it on twitter, saying I have slippery ribs and what not, and when I went in one morning after waking up feeling like I'd slept funny and said that I thought my ribs were bunched up and crossed over, I learned that that actually sort of happens. The technical term is apparently "having a rib out" and you can shove them back into place.
As my spine corrects and straightens and strengthens, all the soft tissue around the spine gets mad at first and then takes to its new positions after a few hours or days. The ribs, however, are apparently more stubborn and will try to compensate for the new position of everything by trying to get back into the old position.
So when I'm at the driving range doing my best Lee Trevino, I invariably throw a rib into Reverse and end up complaining about my ribmeat the next time I go to see my chiropractor.
"Ice it," he says. "Everything is still figuring out where it wants to be."
This is a strange revelation to hear about your body parts from a medical doctor, that there's some indecision as to proper positioning. On the inside.
But for all that, I enjoy golf. I've played three rounds total lifetime, own a decent set of second-hand clubs, and have managed to not spend very much money at all thus far. I enjoy the game because you can get better by yourself and then, when you're actually playing, you're really only competing with yourself. My first round, which I played in Minnesota in April with my wife's best friend's new husband, was a 140. My second round, at a country club here in Dallas, was a 105. Had I continued at that rate, I'd be shooting in the low twenties right now and riding a wave of fame and fortune.
My third round is sort of a wash as far as scoring goes. I went to play with my brother's best friend Jason and we were at a course just off Lake Lewisville that featured gale-force cross winds for most of the day. I'd been taking golf so seriously up until that day when, on the way to the second hole, Jason stopped the cart girl and loaded up on Miller Lite.
Seeing my initial move to protest that I didn't need any - I'm sure I was going to say something about how you gotta hydrate, bro - he said, "Come on dude, this is aimin' juice."
After that I drank and sliced my way to a 114, derailing my path to becoming a scratch golfer in just 5 rounds (and, no doubt, a tour pro in just 7). And it was one hell of a good time, even if I did have to blame my first 25-foot near miss putt on the wind.
No, really. It was the wind.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Got_Your_Money#Summary
Like any good entry at Wikipedia, it is impossible to tell if it was done sincerely or not.
Like any good entry at Wikipedia, it is impossible to tell if it was done sincerely or not.
"This tv series is sooooooooo good! The first season isn't to dramatic, but it's still got awesome actors, and it's just great in general, parents who think this might be to violent for there children, ther're not many shots fired in this season, people get shot but it's in heavy shadow and you verrrry rarely see any blood. There is not strong language, soo kids used to mild language, will have noo problem with that. There is however, extremely cute guys, so moms and dads, if you don't want ur daughters, begging you for every one of these guys movies, then you might not wanna let them see this, seeings they are now in their 40's"
This is actually exactly what I hear anytime a
Libertarian talks to me about Libertarianism.