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Showing posts from October, 2011

Third Friday in October

A repost of mammarial proportions ... (yes, I know that "mammarial" is not a word, or was not until now) I'd originally posted this blog in October 2007, and as the date draws near again my mind has not changed one little bit, nor has the importance of the subject at hand, so here goes... Do you know what this week is? According to NYC Cancer Prevention , the 3rd Friday in every October is "National Mammography Day." I know what you're thinking, "But Phillip, you don't have titties," and the jokes of my man-boobs are damn near moot, as they are just about gone now. I DO have a sense of humor about myself and I know that I am still not a small person by any stretch of the imagination, but I digress... I have taken on the vigil, as a member of the S traight M ale P ride F oundation (AKA the "anti-zesty coalition," PKA the "take off them fuckin' skinny jeans frontline")

Special Agent: Santa Claus

Part of me wants to feel bad for thinking it the actions of a reasonably-thinking human being to scribe something like this with a small child recently having moved into my house… The other side of me says “stop being a little bitch and keep typing, fa**got…” As things often go between the angel on one and devil on the other shoulder, here I am at the keyboard about to scribe some fantastically irresponsible shit. Today, we will be rationalizing the reasons that I feel that Santa Claus is actually a government agent. We can use the most popular work about the man’s dealings – “Santa Claus is coming to town” – to tie these things together. You better watch out, You better not cry, You better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town! He's making a list, He's checking it twice, He's gonna find out who's naughty or nice. Santa Claus is coming to town! He sees you when you're sleeping, He knows when you'

A League of Their Own

Title not to be confused with movies about baseball As it begins to look more and more like I will not be granted an NBA season this year, I was thinking of what I would do with myself. Then the Knicks’ Amar’e Stoudemire made an asinine statement about “ we should start our own league ,” which I INITIALLY responded to with “shut the ham-fat up, you fucking idiot” and then I sat a day and thought about it for a little while. For the sake of the exercise we are to assume that the teams will be self-coached, and that regular event planners and the players’ agents will hash out the monetary details beyond what we will discuss shortly. What we know: · There are currently 30 NBA teams that each suit 10-12 players for action every night. · Some of those players already have or will sign with foreign teams to continue to earn a paycheck play ball while the lockout goes on. · Some of those players still have either made enough or properl