The Fat. The Loud. The Abrasive.

Coach Adipose Rex

Sexy Rexy is full of; an endless mouthful of bombastic bluster, dozens of greasy double cheeseburgers, an explosive colon full of insufferable bravado, embarrassing pre-mature self coronation, rolls of very jiggly swagger and has a very peculiar penchant for stinky cheese and feet.  Coach Rhetoric Rex and his New Jersey Jets will crash & burn in Foxborough on Sunday. The Jets will go down faster & harder than that mysterious swarm of 5000+ dead birds in Arkansas!

J-E-T-S

The Football Gene

      I am a football guy! I do enjoy most sports (hockey, not so much-I like my teeth, as is) but football is clearly # 1. This goes beyond the massive amounts of testosterone (albeit drastically diminishing) coursing through my ripped body. I am genetically predisposed to love football-thanks dad. It goes to the DNA level; I have that oval shaped, football gene.  Pigskin is my favorite smell, the red zone (and that pink zone-thanks testosterone) are my 2 favorite things in the universe and I bow in reverence to the Gridiron Gods daily!

      But, I may be having a seismic DNA reshuffling. The Red Sox are to blame for all of this. The HOT STOVE (Gonzalez & Crawford) is blazing and my Red Sox Nation membership card is temporarily (?) now in front of my Patriot’s Nation MasterCard in my wallet. Theo, keep up the good work! Now, I can barely wait to kick some Yankee ass!!!

Scrambled Brains !

Ouch!



           

I was recently concussed. No, it was several years ago. Well, maybe it was when I was just a youngster in northern Framingham. Whatever, I sometime and somehow,   severely bumped my head, seriously scrambled my brains, lost consciousness and logged some extended hospital time. I don’t think extremely large amounts of alcohol were involved that time. But, up until recently I had no excuses for my life long of bizarre & twisted behaviors and my peculiar obsessions for candy canes and dish towels.

     Now, new medical research at the B.U. School of Concussive Sciences has given me reason to lay blame. A brilliant study by this B.U. school is published in the N.E. Journal of Medicine and says that even one severe concussion can cause a lifelong of chronic mental illness. Now, I am NOT responsible for anything I have done the past forty-something years! What a relief. I look forward to the balance of my guilt-free and reckless life, dazed and confused but happy.

Man Jewelry !

The other day I came across the following story in the morning newspaper: "Charlie Sheen hospitalized after 36-hour coke binge involving five porn stars." I didn't blink. Has Charlie Sheen entered the "Mike Tyson Zone," or is he breaking new ground? Do we need a "Charlie Sheen Zone?" Yes, and he has set the bar pretty high, figuratively and literally. Party on!

I am not much of a man-jewelry kind of guy but recently “the man” has firmly asked me to wear an electronic ankle bracelet. Yes, I went on a Charlie Sheen-like hyper-bender after our NEP lost to the NYJ. Now I can’t leave the confines of our fine state’s border and I have some utilitarian style ankle jewelry. Please don’t ask!

Kardashianed...

  
 It all started out so innocently. Socialite acquaintances of mine, Tareq & Michaela Salahi, set me up on a blind date with one of the Kardashian sisters. Normally, I am happy with meeting women through Craigslist transactions but this sounded interesting and a credit card number wasn’t asked for, in advance.

     I was on my way to pick up my prize for the evening, a Kardashian, driving my late model Camry through the Back Bay. Suddenly, I was surrounded by what appeared to be Somali pirates- carjacked on Commonwealth!!?? My genetically superior Bostonian driving skills instinctively reacted as I pinned my Toyota’s accelerator to the floor narrowly escaping the grasp of Abdu and his mates. My V6 Camry reacted like a champ and accelerated violently, hurtling down

Comm. Ave.

while resembling a North Korean missile display. But, but, but my Toyota wouldn’t slow down and as I sped through Boston and as the g-forces increased I lost consciousness…

     I awoke in a pool of sweat and spilled Pabst Blue Ribbon while tightly grasping my pillow like a discharged air bag. Thankful that it was just a bad dream yet still feeling like I was recovering from a minor tasering accident.

     These New England winters are too damn long. Thankfully, February is only 28 days

'Roid Rage on the Grill !

BBQ Nation is not immune from the social ills of American life. Yes, steroids have crept into the culture of BBQ.  Sadly, it is now common practice of the Kansas City BBQ Society to require pee tests for all BBQ competitors. Some of the competing teams look more like fully juiced W.W.E. performers or ‘roid raged Mixed Martial Arts dudes. Pathetically, there is a dude on the BBQ competition circuit whom goes by the moniker “The Smoking & Choking Vortex of BBQ Death” Randy Stone.

BBQ team names used to be cute, folksy, reasonably humorous and home spun like; “Uncle Billy’s BBQ Team”, “Swine Time Lucille”, “3 Fat Guys & a Smoker” and “Hog Day Afternoon”. But, since Vince McMahon and steroids have tainted the backyards of America, we now have team names like; “BBQ Team Balco”, “Raging & Ripped Rib Goliaths”, “What’s Your Problem? BBQ Team” and “Pumped & Punishing Porcine Pugilist & BBQ Squad”.

     As the commissioner of BBQ Nation, it is my responsibility to clean up this sticky and greasy BBQ steroid mess. With the help of plenty of napkins and an occasional handy wipe, I will return the integrity of the sport of BBQ and recreational home smoking. I will be working with MLB (Major League Barbecue) and report back to you soon with an in depth, BBQ sauce stained study and a fully tested BBQ 12 step recovery program.

     Finally, for the time being, fire up your backyard grills and smokers and then “Just say no!” Sadly, “No and slow.” will become the new mantra of BBQ.

Just say no and slow !

Xanaxdude !

I am suffering from over stimulation, yet underwhelmed. I am concerned about drinking the Obama-Biden stimulus kool aid but I sip the bitter sweet beverage willingly. I cannot imagine anything with 12 zeroes attached. Fed up with steroid talk. Toxic assets talk-done. What digital TV transition?  Canadian geese are the new airline terrorist. I’m particularly troubled by NFL “excessive celebration” penalties. I have considered water boarding as therapy. But, most troubling-peanut butter! Of all the fundamental of American life that I’ve come to distrust, I now have lost faith in peanut butter. If you can’t trust something that sticks to the roof of your mouth, what’s left to trust?

Yes, winter has beaten me up again !!! March will be roaring in like a BBQ’d lion and departing like a BBQ'd lamb soon. BUT, I am an eternal optimist; mentally burying the negatives and magnifying the positives that abound; Dunkin Donuts’ new waffle breakfast sandwich, Camp Feel Good in Fort Myers, the Boston Celtics reloading with veteran talent, ashleymadison.com, our Black & Gold Bruins making this city a real 5 sport town, Nick @ Nite programming, Jordan furniture’s monster payback promo, more Heidi Watney, and yes- Spring is within sight. They are playing baseball in Fort Myers! New Sox's Carl and Adrien are warming my heart!