LastBestAngryMan's Xanga

Final Post

Thu, 29 Mar 2007 12:24:52 GMT

That's right. No more LBAM.

At least, not here on Xanga.

check out http://lastbestangryman.blogspot.com/

That is all.

Random Stuff I Am Pissed Off About, Disappointed in, or Generally Worried About

Wed, 14 Mar 2007 02:13:29 GMT

Just a further installment of what is the basic running theme here

1. Borat

No, I'm not offended by the movie, or by Sasha Baron Cohen. I'm pissed that all the hoopla/kerfuffle/hullaballoo/hand-wringing was about something this dull. I didn't laugh till about 45 minutes in. Much like the extremely overrated "Sideways," Borat's only big payoff is from a naked fat man running around. Given that he's running into a morgage broker's convention, and being chased by a much taller, skinnier naked man, it is considerably funnier than the naked running fat man in Sideways. But it's still lame. I laughed more at Cohen's Golden Globe acceptance speech than I did at this.

On a side note, the driving school Borat went to is the same one I did. With one of the same instructors. Such are my brushes with fame; completely secondhand, utterly useless.

2. That the Geico cavemen are getting their own sitcom.

Listen, I think the Geico cavemen ads are brilliant. Those mini-sketches crack me up. The websites are hilarious, as well. But a half-hour long show of this? The press releases describe the proposed show is about 3 of the cavemen living as thirty-somethings in Atlanta. So, basically...it's a sausage-fest version of "Friends," only set in Atlanta, so they can do...whatever it is that people stuck in a God-forsaken place like Atlanta do. Fantastic.

3. How much you suck.

That's right. YOU, reading this, right now.

4. The sports-blog wave is cresting, and is soon going to crash in a big way.

Mark it down. There are some great sports blogs out there, HOWEVER, one must remember that the certain death of greatness occurs when the one producing the great thing starts to believe it is great, which is what I believe is happening. What do I mean? I mean there is a notable decline in certain sports blogs, that I think stems from the writers of said blogs getting their egos continually stroked. Sites I used to look forward to reading every day are starting to slip, becoming utterly self-referential, self-congratulatory, and masturbatory. I'm not sure how well I can articulate this, but the point is, many of the blogs I used to enjoy seem to be getting worse every day. The writing is lazier, the dick/gay jokes and objectification of women are getting old, fast, and the constant spawning of new blogs that link back and forth in order to generate more buzz for each other is transparent and annoying. Maybe this just means that I, and I alone will stop reading them. But increasingly, I'm starting to feel like a high-schooler listening to the 6th graders laugh while making fart sounds with their armpits; sure, I'll laugh at a good fart joke, but I need some other stuff now and then, too. I have a feeling many like-minded readers will feel the same way eventually.

I hate Sammy Sosa...

Sat, 10 Mar 2007 18:17:12 GMT

...and I am not for one second buying what he's selling in Rangers camp. Check out this article on espn.com. The only part of this I buy is where he admits that the cynic in him believes Sosa is only coming back for the 600 HR and the chance for the Hall of Fame.

All that other stuff about his changed attitude, how everybody at Rangers camp loves him?

All that crap was going on at Orioles camp back in '05. I went to Spring Training that year (hoping secretly that the Orioles would decide they needed a slow, vaguely switch-hitting 1B with no plate discipline and little power, but they already had all the slow, undisciplined hitters they could use) and it was nonstop Sammy this and Sammy that, and how wonderful and personable he'd been. And we lapped it up. And when the season started and Sammy was playing defense like he cared (which meant misjudging most flyball angles and then running like hell to make great-looking catches) and saying all the right things, we all believed it was going to be great.

And we all know how it ended. Scroll back to October 2005 for my money-based dissection of Sammy's '05 season, but the salient points were these: he made $1.276 MILLION per HR, $212,798 per hit, and $139,648.5 per productive plate appearance. Granted, he's only making $500,000 in base salary this year, but the point remains: the last time Sammy Sosa was in a major league uniform, he stunk worse than a limburger&tuna sub left behind a leaky radiator for three weeks.

I hope Sammy gets 11 HR, starts pissing people off in the clubhouse, smashes his boombox over Ron Washington's head and ignites a clubhouse melee that leaves the majority of the team too injured to complete the season. I hope the resulting inquiry prompts Sosa to flee to the Dominican Republic and never return to the United States, and that it gets the Rangers GM fired. I hope all of this because I wish nothing but unmitigated failure for Sammy Sosa and any team that happens to be around him.

And those of you who remember Sammy fondly, well, I ask you two questions.

1. Did he ever play for your team? (If he did, you don't remember him fondly).

2. Do you remember him fondly because of what he was or what he we can safely assume he pretended to be?

That Cruel Bitch, Hope

Wed, 21 Feb 2007 00:28:03 GMT

We've danced this dance, hope.

I always tell myself I'll keep you at arm's length. I always say, "I won't give in this time..."

And then, sometime, usually in March, perhaps April, I let you in.

Just for a bit, I warn. Just because...it is the thing to do at this time of year, for those of us who love the spring in Florida.

But just that little bit is always enough. Always enough to make throw wide the doors to you, to take you as a lover in spring, even into summer. As late as June...

And always, you heartless bitch, you leave me gnashing my teeth and rending my clothes and sobbing to an apathetic August sky.

But not this year. Not this year. I will not be swayed by all this talk of playoff contention and the gleam of batting practice jerseys, the crack of black bats.

No, hope. Not this year. Fuck you, hope. I will not let you back into my life until you've proven you'll stick around till August.

(Translation: The Orioles win 78 games or less this year, and I will not be deceived into believing otherwise unless they actually do. And to hell with all this stuff in the press reporting that the players all think they can win. You people are no better than pimps or drug dealers. For shame).

Bernie Williams is a Whiny Bitch...

Mon, 19 Feb 2007 02:23:32 GMT

...and I'm fucking sick of hearing about how "classy" he is.

Bernie Williams was a good player for a long time. He has also been a whiny bitch for a long time.

Take it from someone who has watched lots and lots of AL East baseball for the past, oh, 20 years- 16 of which have seen Bernie patrolling CF (and by the way, in only 5 of those seasons has he been significantly above average defensively- which equals the 5 seasons he's been below average to atrocious); there isn't a whinier player out there than Bernie Williams. Every time a strike was called on him, he'd roll his eyes. Every time he was struck out looking, he'd stop just shy of arguing about it. If there was a statistic kept for "most times started to trot to 1B as if walked, only to have to come back because the umpire called a strike" his only significant competition would be Derek Jeter. The guy has bitched and moaned and wheedled and eye-rolled his way into some sort of warm and fuzzy love-fest from the entire nation, now that he seems to be retired.

Well, wait a minute- his retirement isn't necessarily forced upon him, right? The Yankees DID offer him a non-guaranteed deal, which is understandable considering the number of outfielder and DH sorts the Yankees already have in camp. And now comes the news that Bernie won't take the offer and compete because he's "insulted" that they didn't just offer him a guaranteed major-league contract. Guess what, Bernie? You're 38, you cover about as much ground in the OF as a drunken midget on stilts, and all you can really do anymore is hit lefties. You're a year older than DiMaggio and Mantle were when they retired- and, note, both of them did so gracefully and willingly. So, in other words...Bernie is going out just like he played; bitching and moaning and whining and generally being a baby.

Well, the LBAM, at least, isn't buying into the "farewell Bernie" love fest that the rest of the baseball viewing world seems to be doing. Fuck you, Bernie Williams. You were always a big whining baby at the plate- and, by the way, you don't get to pitch a fit at getting brushed back when you hang your elbow and shoulder over the damn plate- and I'm glad to see your career end ignominiously, in a fit of whining. Plenty of guys your age, with resumes comparable to yours, take minor-league deals and play their way onto a roster in the spring. If you still thing you're good enough, stop bitching and go play. If you ARE good enough, you'll make the team. But, let's be honest; you won't make the team, because you aren't good enough anymore, and you know it. So instead, you'll bitch through the media that you're insulted.

This should go without saying, but...for those of you who think Bernie is a Hall of Famer, wake up. He isn't even close. Most of you who do probably also think Don Mattingly is, which automatically disqualifies you from having an informed conversation about it, so just shut up.

Shit I Just Can't Take Anymore, Music-Related Version

Sat, 10 Feb 2007 02:59:28 GMT

The title pretty much says it. So here we go.

1. Those black-frame glasses&converse high-top&vintage t-shirt wearing cocksuckers. Okay, you say that's not music related? Walk into any used record store and you'll see it full of...and staffed by...these tragic wastes of blood. And most of them have their identity entirely wrapped in knowing obscurer bands than you do. It's practically guaranteed that any band you like, or album you buy, isn't obscure enough for them. They're prone to comments about how bands are "so 2 years ago." Well, you know what? Time alone has nothing to do with whether a band is good or not. NOTHING. Neither does popularity. Just because a band is selling out concerts or starts making money doesn't mean they suddenly stink; it just means more people know about them and more people are giving them money. Which, if youlike a band, you ought to be happy about. I want the bands I like to succeed. Obviously, these black-frame glasses&converse high-top&vintage t-shirt wearing cocksuckers don't. Basically because they're cocksuckers who have no other strong identifying characteristic. Losers.

Oh, and by the way...vinyl is inefficient. Vinyl doesn't sound better than high-quality CD or DVD. And most importantly, vinyl isn't transferable into portable mp3 form. Losers.

2. Pretty much the entire hip-hop industry. This one basically speaks for itself. Mostly because it's become so totally mastubatory, misogynist, and pointless, and it doesn't require any ingenuity or talent anymore; once popular rappers are able to rhyme the same word 7 times in a row they AREN'T MAKING RHYMES. They are just repeating words. Furthermore, the names are just getting stupid. A sampling; UGK, David Banner, The Geto Boys, Slim Thug, Chamillionaire, MC Breed, Michael "5000" Watts...at this point, you idiots are just making shit up for names. Or stealing them from comic book characters. And you know what else? If all these rappers were the sort of criminals they claim to be the murder rate in this country would be 500 times higher than it is.

3. Lily Allen; she isn't all that cute, she can't sing a fucking note, and when one of her song's chorus rhymes "eyes/nice/twice/lies" she and her songwriters are clearly just idiots. Stop shoving her down my throat.

4. Severely overrated singer/songwriters like Sufjan Stevens. I have never been able to listen to an entire album of his all the way though. You know why? His music is boring. Fuck him.

5. Ticketmaster. This one also speaks for itself. We have to deal with you and we know that. We aren't morons. So stop calling it a "convenience charge" and just call it a "grab your ankles charge."

6. Music fans who have no filter. You know who I mean. The people who like every new band that comes along, just because it's new. Their listening can't have any depth because it's all breadth. They listen to everything, they 'like' everything, so must not love anything. "If you keep your mind sufficiently open, people will throw a lot of rubbish into it."- William A. Orton. I can't for the life of me figure out who that fucker is, but his quote is applicable here.

Vote LBAM in 2008

Mon, 29 Jan 2007 00:51:55 GMT

I am announcing here, on the official LastBestAngryMan blog, my intention to form an exploratory committee for the presidential election in 2008, as a fourth-party candidate; the LastBestAngryMan Party.

I am basing my platform on forward-thinking technology. In other words, I will have the Defense&Intelligence Apparatus capture all pertinent scientists and force them to work on important technological advances; flying cars, reliable mass transporter devices, and android slaves.

Under my rule...rather, my administration, Georgia will be immediately excluded from the Union. The borders will be sealed and all traffic in and out completely halted. No contact will be allowed with those inside the borders of this new "non-state" for at least three years; this may be shortened if those who rise to power can prove conclusively that the Governor, the legislature, and 4 particular members of the State Supreme Court have been killed.

Everyone who has ever appeared on any of the following television shows (and any others we can think of) will be rounded up and forced to 'compete' on the new, state-sponsored reality show, "Who Wants to be Impaled?"- Real World, Road Rules, Survivor, My Super Sweet 16, Yo Mama, Big Brother, The Apprentice, American Idol, America's Next Top Model. Further additions may be made to this list.

The Baseball Writers Association of America will no longer have voting power over Hall of Fame Inductions. Instead, Bill James and Peter Gammons will decide who is in, and who is out, including the removal of certain current members. (Somebody tell Phil Rizzuto not to show up at the next induction ceremony).

On a related note, Bob Costas will be named Comissioner-for-Life and Grand Poobah of Major League Baseball.

George Clooney will be forcibly deported to the Sudan, so that he may indeed "get over there and try to solve that thing." A national pool may be started on how long he survives. (Sorry George, your Smarm Index has simply risen too high).

This is merely a sampling of the changes my regime will affect.

"A flying car in every garage and two natural-fleshed android sex slaves in every bed!"

LBAM 2008:
Putting Them in Their Place

I hope...

Wed, 10 Jan 2007 16:15:46 GMT

...Peyton Manning dies on national TV on Saturday. I really do. I hope Trevor Pryce and Terrel Suggs high-low him from opposite sides and Ray Lewis comes right over the top at the same time. I hope this meeting of 900+ pounds of angry Raven causes Golden Boy's spine to break with a sickening, audible SNAP.

It would be the greatest thing ever televised.

Okay, I can't actually root for a man to die. But maybe he could survive but just be paralyzed from the waist down. Imagine the unbelievable outpouring of grief from white middle America. You think the Barbaro message boards were sickening? And the constant coverage on Sportscenter. Peter King might committ suicide.

And Peyton's social life would be unaffected. He could still blow Kenny Chesney.

Five Things You Don't Know About Me

Tue, 09 Jan 2007 19:12:22 GMT

Stupid blogging tags. Thanks a lot, Soulkerfuffle

1. I have what might charitably be described as an "extensive" toy collection.

What can I say? I am a huge geek. I'm a gamer and a comic book reader, so this only follows naturally. Let me clarify; I love toys. Action figures, specifically. I am incapable of going into a Target or a Wal-Mart without walking down the toy aisle to see what's new. I read "Toyfare" magazine (which is, by the way, hilarious even if you don't collect) . However, I don't buy indiscriminately. I only collect a few lines; Lord of the Rings and Marvel Legends (by Toybiz, both, and now Hasbro, the latter) and I don't buy every figure of every series that gets released. (Well, I'd like to complete the LotR collection and get every figure Toybiz made- I'm not terribly far off). With Marvel Legends, I only get characters I like, unless the figure itself falls into the "really freakin' cool" category. I don't leave them in the packages, I don't view them as investments, and I don't sell them on ebay. If I wind up with doubles of a figure I am much more likely to give it away than to sell it. And I am still slightly miffed that certain figures of mine are now lost forever to me in an ex's house. Most notably Peter Jackson as a Hobbit.

2. I was quite the actor in elementary and middle school.

I was in pretty much every school play in elementary school as various roles. In one instance in, I believe it was, kindergarten, I didn't just know my lines, I knew everyone else's lines and, when they would stumble, I'd prompt them. I don't remember this, but my parents used to remind me of it all the time. My biggest role was as Willy Wonka in a 7th grade production of "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." Top hat, tails, vest, cane, the whole deal, including a snazzy, if short, dance number down the steps of my "factory." This was videotaped. No, I don't know where you can get a copy.

3. I was in the stupid classes until 3rd or 4th grade.

I'm not entirely sure why this is. I think it was probably because I just flat-out didn't care what we were doing in school. I found it boring, and so I wouldn't do it.

4. I played football with Johnny Unitas's son.

Really. His name was Chad Unitas and he was a QB on the JV team at my high school my sophomore year, his freshman. Eventually he transferred to play lacrosse at a better lacrosse school (if you can play prep lacrosse in Baltimore, you're getting a scholarship somewhere, so more power to him). Johnny U came to all our games that year and the concentrated man-love from all the dads in the stands was almost overwhelming.

5. My earliest memory is of watching "Star Wars."

This pretty much set the tone for the rest of my geek-infested existence, I think. Really though, it is the first thing I can remember. I was in pajamas, in a car-seat, with my brother and my cousin Donna in my parent's old Ford Torino at a drive-in that went out of business twenty years ago, give or take a couple of years. All you can see of it now is the overgrown drive that led up into it; I think the screens were dismantled, but for the longest time you could see the giant rusting screens looming over the embankment on the side of Route 40. It was a double-feature; Star Wars: A New Hope and Cannonball Run II. I know I had seen Star Wars already, since I was discussing with my brother what was going to happen in the movie (namely, that Obi-Wan was goin' down).

You know what's wrong with this country?

Fri, 01 Dec 2006 21:53:49 GMT

Not enough people taking daily naps.

I'm serious. Imagine how great it would be to have corporate nap-time at work. A half-hour, maybe. Think about how great naptime in preschool always was. Describe a single instance in your adult life where taking a nap didn't make your day better, improve your mood, or generally contribute positively to your existence.

Really, I had a nap today and it made all the difference. Listen up, corporate America. The next great wave in keeping workers happy and productivity up is here. Just have a corporate nap room, that's nice and cool and dim and quiet with a number of cots. Bet it won't cost much. Sleep masks, extra pillows or blankets could cost. See, I'm already thinking of ways to leverage some synergy here! (And clearly I have corporate lingo down). Naturally you don't pay workers for the half-hour of sleep- like lunch breaks- but what's a half hour?

Why I haven't been offered a job heading a corporate consulting team yet, I'll never know. I've got more great ideas. Like Company Porn Fund, where the company pays for porn website access and then gives the access to their employees- in a special room for 15 minute intervals, no more than twice a week- and everybody's happy. Whose day isn't improved by this?

Other ideas, and this is just off the top of my head: Take Your Mistress to Work Day and Corporate Hazing.

Seriously folks. I'm available for consulting for only $750/hr plus expenses. I don't work Fridays.

-LBAM