Example:

Please refer to around 4:05 of this clip to see what I mean:

We need Patches O'Houlihan

Dodgeball Game #1 Recap:

Last night marked game 1 of my dodgeball season this fall. I joined the team to be social ("demented and sad but sort of social") and to have fun with my friends. Apparently the teams we drew in the first round were in it for different reasons. Scary reasons.

Let me describe:

Team 1:

Name: The Hotness

Uniform: They brought their own tie-died t-shirts with nicknames on the back that included but are not limited to: The Rock, Johnny Boy, Clutch and "The Shocker" (he literally had the phrase "one in the stink" printed on his back.) Oh yea, and The Rock wore wrestling shoes and a headband.

Description: This collection of B&T guidos on came to kick ass and get rid of their roid rage while their skinny minnie girlfriends hung in the back. They not only aimed for girls more than boys, they aimed for girls in the head. One of them literally yelled "PUT HIM IN A BODY BAG JOHNNY" as if our "friendly" game was equivalent to the final battle in The Karate Kid.

Ralph Macchio I am not. Damn you Kobra Kai.

Team 2:

Name: ZS4 (ZS=Zog Sports, the peole that created the league)

Uniform: Purple zog sports t-shirt

Description: A collection of obvious dorks who didn't have enough friends to form a team of their own. One scary player, which someone dubbed the Tsunami, would wail the ball at girls with no shame. He would hide in the corner and just peg people. Then there was scary red head who I think misplaced her crazy pills before she showed up. The two combined looked like this:

Team 3: Us

Uniform: Sage Green T-shirts (could we get a weaker color?)

Description: A collection of former athletes who in the past 7 years have well, let's just say we aren't really "athletes" any more (with the exception of one or two).

We need to work out like these kids.

So yea, when only 8 of our 12 showed up I realized I would have to play. Play against the scary guidos. My strategy was to hide in a corner (which I got yelled at for). That didn't work.

So then I actively tried to throw caution to the wind, disregard everything I have ever known to be true and try to get some of these people out. And again, I proved to myself that I throw like a 4 year-old. No aim, no rhyme or reason and ever so softly. Every time I th
rew, I was out.

My teammates stayed strong, and one back injusry and 8 sore bodies later, we ended the night 1-2-1, not too bad considering we faced a Rock and a Tsunami.

We play again on 10/11 (we have a week off). Hoepfully, I won't have sit an entire day with a heating pad on my back after that one. And worse comes to worse, we will no doubt get the best drinking team award. Nothing helps a bad back like a big glass of cider.

Saved By The Bell: Still Ruining my Life

Read this from The Daily News Rush and Molloy Column:

"He may have played nerdy eighth-grader Samuel (Screech) Powers in the sitcom "Saved by the Bell." But former TV geek Dustin Diamond can now take his place with Colin Farrell, Tommy Lee and Kid Rock as the star of his very own sex tape.

Everyone who remembers Diamond as a lovable putz is in for a shock once they see a 40-minute video in which he engages in a kinky three-way with two women, sources tell us.

We can't get too graphic here, but word is that the action includes some bodily functions and an act known as a "Dirty Sanchez."

Phoenix-based agent David Hans Schmidt, who has brokered some of Hollywood's biggest celebrity-skin deals, confirms that he's acquired the rights to a tape featuring Diamond.

"Just when you think you have seen everything in this business," he tells us, "mankind has raised the bar another notch. Or lowered it."....

The sex vid's working title is "Saved by the Smell." Ewwwww."

I just hope Tori Spelling doesn't make an special guest star appearence as Violet Bickerstaff.

Effing 4G!!!!!

To the bastards down the hall:

When the delivery man came to your door with MY tacos and MY quesadilla that you obviously didn't order why did you not point out that you are 4G not 4J. You took my food. The messed up part is that I didn't pay for it yet. You paid for my food and ate it. You PAID for it. That's so weird.

I can forgive you for making me listen to your stupid conversation about the VMA's and who Jared Leto is. Oh, and the name of his band is 30 Seconds to Mars, not 20 seconds to Jupiter. Jerks.

And when Tiny Dancer (who just wanted to see if you got the food and the taco place wasn't lying) knocked on your door, you came to the door, looked outside and didn't answer the door. You sat back down and turned up the Yankee game.

So 4G this is WAR!!! I will get you back. Hard Core. I will tackle your delivery men in the hallway and take all of your orders from now on. And I'm gonna spit on your door knob and other such shenanegins. Bastards.

Now you'll never see me naked. And one of is you is fat and smells like dirty sweat.

Love,

Someone who hates you

A Fond Farewell

Last Sunday I was at my mom's house recovering from the festivities of my sister's bridal shower. I laid in her bed chatting away and flipping channels and then we stumbled on something that was at the same time both wonderful and sad.

The WB 11 was airing all of the pilots of their most popular shows. It was their wayof saying goodbye to my generation, the kids who grew up watching Buffy, Felicity and my favorite of all time Dawson's Creek.

I haven't seen the DC pilot in years. I own it, but I usually skip over it because I knew the plot line. For years I have been proclaiming that I practice Dawsonism. It's my religion of sorts, in which, whenevr faced with a life problem, I refer to DC wherein I will always find the answer.

I thought this was a completely original idea.

Nope.

As I watched the pilot, I learned that I totally stole this idea from Van Der Beek himself. Dawson and his Speilberg theory (the same as my Dawsonism) is introduced within the first hour.

While I watched the magical montage in the last few moments, I saw my teenage years flash before my eyes. And then I realized how much I suck because the one basic priciple that I always thought that I had dreamed up actually came from the place it was based on.

Really though, I suck

Crap or should I say crack.

I must have been on crack. I signed up to be on a dodgeball team. With the most athletic girls I know. Crap. Let the maiming begin.

I wasn't kidding.

She can already do blue steel. Just make sure she doesn't kill the Prime Minister of Malaysia.

I want a DNA test...that I pay for.

Vanity Fair is so nice to give us our first look at Suri Holmes-Cruise.

Yes, Suri has been hiding in Tom's jacket the ENTIRE time! And doesn't Kat(ie)e look like she's confused? She's like, who is this kid and why am I here? The baby is the only one who can look us in the eye. And that's because she's too young to lie.

She's adorable (but no Shiloh), but I can't help but be reminded of a certain really rediculously good looking person:

Whoa here she comes, watch out boys she'll chew you up

In my drunken stupor last night I texted one of my young ones (this one is actually still in college). He always writes or calls back immediately and with enthusiasm. He is adorable, but why do I do these things when he is a half a country away and let's face it, young?

It's because I have decided to become the cougar/puma/jaguar that Hall and Oates were singing about, let's see how that works out for me.

Happy Labor Day weekend...and happy end of summer.