Friday, December 12, 2014

New Red Card Headbutt Episode

Well, about three years ago when I didn't know what the hell I was going to do with the Uti/Festus video I stumbled upon I made the one that for awhile was the only link to the match on Youtube. Anyway, I went ahead and updated the commentary and made it a little bit better looking. Can't say the same for the wrestling, it's still the shits.


Thursday, October 2, 2014

A Shitty Situation

One would think that if a person had shit themselves that they would try to come up with as discreet a way of disposing of their underwear as possible.  Well, perhaps most people but not everyone.  Where there’s some folks that would get out the bottle of laundry detergent and clean the offending fecal matter off in the shower and then properly launder said underclothes.  That’s what most right thinking people would do.

Hell, some folks would just do well of wrapping their shat upon undergarments into a plastic shopping bag and tossing them in the nearest dumpster.  If I ever crapped myself, I would want to get rid of the evidence as soon as possible.  I wouldn't do it in a manner that aroused suspicion.

I’ve seen people break this rule on two separate occasions.  The first such occasion being when my division was gearing up for what we were being told was a fairly big personnel inspection.  I have no earthly idea why this one was such a big deal other than the RDC’s told us it was.  That being the case, everyone in the division went into overdrive making sure everything was as perfect as it could be.  Now, the inspectors come in that day and start looking at everything.  No matter what branch of the military you happen to have been in, you know that you've never felt more scrutinized during one of these things.  I never actually saw it happen, but if you were told to memorize the heating instructions for a Hot Pocket; at some point in the inspection somebody would be asked to tell the inspector how long the box said to keep the damn thing in the microwave before eating it.

So we’re all standing there and out of nowhere we hear what could loosely be called a mixture of whispering and yelling at the same time.  None of us dare to look over.  However, our ears do perk up when we hear somebody say “is under your towel supposed to be where you stow your dirty laundry”?  We finish up the inspection and after which we ask some of the people near the origination of the noise what happened.  Apparently one of the guys, whose name was so unpronounceable we just called him Wojo, had taken a pair of underwear that had seen several better days and hid them under a towel.

Let me elaborate.  To save the embarrassment of taking a pair of underwear that he may have fouled and put them in for laundry, he just hit them under a towel.  A towel that immediately looked to the inspectors as if it were out of place.  They see the small lump under the towel and find a pair of shitted up briefs.  Boy, when we heard this we all remembered about how our RDC’s had told us if anything stupid happened during the inspection we were going to get this shit beaten out of us.

Getting beat, for those that don’t know doesn’t actually involve getting beaten up as most understand the definition.  What it did mean, is that we were going to get exercised within an inch of our lives.  But we thought that it was just an empty threat to motivate us.  Christ were we wrong.

About an hour and a half after eating dinner, one of the RDC’s jumps up and yells at us to push all the bunks back to the walls.  Uh oh.  He then instructs somebody to shut all the windows.  This is a building with no air conditioning.  While it was still in a town north of Chicago, it was still about eighty five degrees that day.  For the next hour and a half, we were engaged in a PT session so intense that condensation was forming on the ceiling and falling gown upon us.  Was literally raining in the building.


Every single one of us had to do this, except one…Wojo.  His motivation to never do something stupid like that again was to take his pair of shitted up underwear, tape them to a broom and hold them in front of his face while marching around the barracks.  I’m not certain which of us had it worse that day.  The situation was almost like in Full Metal Jacket when Pyle stood there and ate the donut while everyone was doing pushups.  Needless to say, he never did it again.  Maybe next time I’ll tell the other story…

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Hogan's Beach-It's A Real Thing



So, during the family's recent excursion to Tampa we decided to make a brief detour to Hogan's Beach.  Hogan's Beach, for those that don't know is located on the side of the Courtney Campbell Causeway as you are entering Tampa from nearby Clearwater.  Pictures were taken and I have to say, that after visiting the restaurant in my honest opinion it is actually a real place.

On the day we went we had just eating at Crabby Bills in Clearwater which was as great a dining experience as we had the entire time we were there.  So, the five year old version of me reminds me wife "HEYHONEYDONTFORGETWEGOTTAGOTOTHEHULKHOGANRESTAURAUNT!"  Or something like that.  We pull in to what is actually the parking lot of a Best Western Hotel and I drop the wife and kid off at the front.  There is a little desk that three people are corralled around and I'm thinking that one of them has to be the guy that tells you where to park.  After all, I'm in an unfamiliar town and the last thing I want to do is have to tell someone that I got my car towed in the parking lot of the goddamn Hulk Hogan restaurant.

Guy stares off into space while I give up and drive the car to some secluded part of the parking lot hoping the car will still be there when we are done. Now, onto the place itself.


The hallway leading up to the actual eating area is just some random hallway in the hotel.  Story goes, the previous tenants of the restauraunt space left and to retain some star rating they called upon the 24 inch pythons of Hulk Hogan.  Everything here is Hogan.  Boots, old ring gear, toilet seats....what's that you say?  You didn't own the Hulk Hogan toilet seat when you were a kid?  Well, apparently it's a signed prop from Mr. Nanny.  Exactly what I want to see when I go somewhere to eat, a goddamn toilet seat in a glass case.


Despite what some of you might think from the picture above, that's not Hulk Hogan personally greeting you when you enter the establishment.  Despite what your eyes may be telling you, it's actually just a sculpture of some unknown origin.  I'm guessing it's melted down unsold copies of NO Holds Barred.

Another thing that's fairly strange is the amazingly long dress code.  If you enlarge the picture you will see an outright shocking number of things you cannot wear.  This, by the way is the namesake dining establishment of the guy who practically made do-rags a thing for some guys.




The hallway is littered with Hogan merch and memorabilia.  If there's something with Hogan's name or face on it that's been produced in the last thirty years, chances are you've owned it and a copy is sitting in one of the glass cases.

One of the sad things about the place is the fact that all the belts are replicas.  Every last one of them.  Even sadder is that some of them have a little card next to them that say they were "Held by Hulk Hogan".  Which amounts to Hogan held the box full of them as the were setting up shop.  I take that back.  It more than likely amounts to Hogan holding his arms at his sides while Brian Knobbs and Brutus Beefcake walked the box full of toy belts inside.



Onto the food.  Seeing as how we'd already eaten not an hour before, we just settled on drinks and splitting an appetizer.  For the record, the Kobe beef sliders were pretty good.  The rest of the menu I can't speak for, but reviews from others have indicated that the food could use a bit of improvement.  They've also got plenty of waiting, so you are in luck if you like spending long amount of time in unfamiliar locales staring off into space.  One thing that caught my eye is that everything is served in plastic cups.  You know what, I expect to be given a seven dollar drink in a plastic cup if I'm at a concert, but not an actual proper restaurant.

The other thing is the drink Hogan's Punch, which is probably tastes like nothing at all; but in Japan tastes like potatoes.

  
Yep, someone's gotta pay for Linda getting everything in the divorce right?

You'd probably assume that the decor in Hogan's Beach would be littered with Hogan crap just like the hallway right?  Nope.  There's not a shred of Hogan stuff inside, just red and yellow everything.  For those of you hoping that this was going to be the wrestling version of Uncle Moe's Family Feedbag i'm afraid I've got some bad news.

We eat and have our drinks, and my wife graciously suggests that I should buy a shirt or something.  Which I tell her the merch stand is the drizzling shits.  It's literally all the same pictures of Jimmy Hart and Hulk Hogan on different designs.  Not even good looking designs either...state fair airbrushing booth designs.




One last thing I decided to look at before we got the hell out of there was the car parked in the employee lot.  The space had this big placard with Jimmy Hart's face on it so I cannot resist giving a quick look at the Hogan's Beach-mobile.  The car looks like it's thirty goddamn years old and the top on the thing looks like ten pounds of shit stretching a five pound sack.

And I don't know why this bothered me, but if you look in the second picture that's gotta be the biggest goddamn container of Rain-X I've ever seen.  I mean seriously, why does one man need that much of that stuff?  Is he running a car wash on the side?  And from the looks of the car, he certainly isn't using it himself.



Well, that's all from Hogan's Beach.  If you want to go there, don't expect anymore than what you'd get out of visiting your area's local Mystery Spot tourist trap.


Thursday, September 18, 2014

Philadelphia Eagles Thoughts For The Week--Keys To Victory



Now, despite the impressive 2-0 start for the Philadelphia Eagles, there seems to be a statistic that is troubling me and probably a few other folks.  Sure, the ability for Chip Kelly's Birds to will themselves to impressive come from behind victories is nothing short of miraculous given the way the team had played pre-Kelly.  But there's something wrong...

In going over my extensive records on The Eagles(which include Hotel California and Life In The Fast Lane) I have come to the startling conclusion, that as good as they are now they cannot be true Super Bowl contenders.  The team is dead last in arrests and convictions.

Think about this for just a second.  When was the last time you heard about an Eagle getting into any serious trouble?  Ok, I'll give you Lane Johnson for the PED thing but he's practically a rookie and that one shouldn't even count.  It wasn't even an arrest.  So the Eagles are dead last in run ins with the law.

So to become a true Super Bowl contender, the Eagles need to step up their off the field bad behavior.  Instead of not leaving a tip the next time, LeSean McCoy should just leave.  Nothing sends up the red flags of law enforcement like a millionaire skipping out on the check.  Hell, even Chip Kelly could get in on the action to show his commitment to the team's success.  How 'bout it Chip, try driving with a busted taillight and arguing with the officer about the ticket.

Of course, I'm not going to say that the Eagles should engage in anything beyond jaywalking or petty larceny.  But in my humble opinion, until somebody at the very least gets picked up for defrauding an inkeeper this team isn't going to be going anywhere.