Somewhat Manly Nerd

No, not stock car racing. Try the one known as the national pastime. Pitchers and catchers reporting > Daytona 500.

Now that the unprovoked NASCAR bashing is out of the way, it’s time to talk about baseball. Glorious, steroid-laden, over-romanticized baseball. I love baseball as much as anyone, but sanctimonious sportswriters can’t tell me that the game was pure before this whole steroids shitstorm. And that’s about all I’m going to say about that. Check out this Fangraphs post for awesome.

I just want the actual season to start, as I’m already sick of predictions and thoughts about the upcoming season, even ignoring the week long discussion of A-Rod. Even spring training games will suffice, as I will at least be able to see how pitiful the Mets’ collection of 5th starters is, and if Luis Castillo can still walk. I’ll be able to watch Daniel Murphy again, and see if J.J. Putz is as nasty as he once was.

This weekend was just the first step. For the next eight months, baseball will own my life, and it will be awesome.

Spoon – You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb

Now, I pretty much only listen to rock music, as is probably evident by the songs I have posted on here, but I find most indie “rock” bands to be total shit. I usually don’t even bother checking out any band classified as “indie rock” anymore. It’s almost all the same impotent, whiny, boring garbage. Spoon is a big exception to this personal rule of thumb. I actually had a hard time deciding which of their songs off of their latest album, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, to post. I chose this song because you probably have no soul if you don’t involuntarily move some part of your body to its beat. So unless you don’t have a soul, I recommend out of rest of the album, while I continue checking out the rest of Spoon’s entire discography.

No, this is not a Livejournal post. This is about the website F*** My Life. I’m automatically reminded of Grouphug.us (which looks much different than the last time I visited it years ago). Both are definitely 95% fake, but they’re still hilarious nonetheless. Grouphug was about confessions, though, which made many posts skew towards deviant behavior. FML is about just getting owned by life, which is perfect for the internet generation. Though I guess there’s plenty of perverseness on FML.

Better than me writing about the site anymore, I’ll just post some of my favorites:

Today, I received my passport in the mail. They got my birthdate wrong. Then I picked up my birth certificate that I had sent in with the application. Turns out my parents have been celebrating my birthday on the wrong day for 16 years. FML

Today, I’m in Spain, and told the kids with whom I will be working that I was excited to be working with them. Only the form of excitement I used apparently refers to sexual excitement. Basically, I told the kids I was sexually aroused to be working with them. FML

Ok, I think you get the point.

Seriously, for his sake, I really hope this is an extremely drawn-out hoax.

* “This post” not actually being this post, but the post linked below.
** “Win” refers to the ability to enter a contest.

I’ve been writing up too many reports with footnotes…

Anyhow, this post is to call attention to a contest — but more importantly — another blog. 3:10 to Joba has resided over on the right at the top of my blogroll for a bit of time now. The man in charge, either “J” or “310toJoba” depending on where he is on the internets, knows what he’s doing over there. He really has his shit together, unlike myself. Maybe because he’s a few years my junior and hasn’t let life suck all passion for everything out of his soul.

Why post about his blog now? Because he’s offering up a free hat for his 10 loyal readers. Don’t expect me to pull anything like this. I need to fund my insatiable need for fresh Cambodian breast milk. Just click here, and follow the directions, and you may just find yourself the new owner of one of the overpriced 59Fifty caps. And I swear to fucking God, you better take the sticker off, or I will rip it off myself and make you choke on it.

A subscription to Netflix is a wonderful thing. Granted, it’d be much more wonderful if I had an internet connection capable of taking advantage of Netflix streaming, but nonetheless, I have seen quite a few movies over the past few weeks, all for the low price of $8.99/month! That includes the goodness of Blu-ray movies! (Ok Netflix, give me a couple of free months now.)

Taken

I watched the non-pussified original French version. What has America come to when a French version of a movie is more badass than the American version? I haven’t seen the edited-down PG-13 version that was just released in theaters, but it seems it at least keeps MOST of the awesomeness of the original cut. Nonetheless, I recommend seeing the international version any way you can. It is like a Bourne movie with Jack Bauer in the lead plus 15 years. There’s about 20 minutes of set-up — where his daughter is kidnapped after being in France for approximately half an hour — and then over an hour of basically pure action ensues. Liam Neeson tells dudes he’s going to kill them before he brutally kills them with a chop to the neck plus a shot to the head. He also drives through buildings and electrocutes henchmen. No more explanation needed. Check it out.

Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead

This movie pretty much made me want to kill myself. What a goddamn shithole of a film. Thank God Marisa Tomei was naked for half of her screen time.

Gran Torino

Clint Eastwood carries this entire film. Not only did he direct it, he’s pretty much the only good actor in the entire thing. He even

*SPOILER ALERT*

sings at the end.

*END SPOILER*

Yes, he had to do everything. Now, I’ve heard the argument that the way the Myung’s act in the film is actually a fairly accurate representation. Even if that’s the case, it was still hilarious. Almost the entire film was hilarious. It was certainly funnier than Tropic Thunder and Stepbrothers. And that’s what probably stops me from taking it as seriously as Clint Eastwood probably wanted it to be. But it is somewhat of a testament to Eastwood’s awesomeness that even through it’s obvious he threw it together in a few weeks and that it’s almost offensively formulaic — although the ending saves it with regards to the latter — you still relate to his old hardass character.

Doomsday

A great, great B-movie. Unbelievably violent and ridiculous. It’s almost two movies in one, and both of them are awesome. I — and I may have to turn in my nerd card here — haven’t seen many John Carpenter movies, but the fans of him I know on the internets seem to agree that this is a movie he could’ve made. This is an apocalypse movie straight out of the 80s.

Wanted

Even more ridiculous than Doomsday, but definitely tried to take itself a bit more seriously, which knocks it down a pegs or two on the entertainment scale. On the other hand, one of Morgan Freeman’s lines alone makes the movie worth watching. And the climactic final scene is totally amazing. It’s like that part in Equilibrium where Christian Bale kills 100 dudes in that hallway, only 10x better and more bloody. There is a decent message stuffed beneath the bullet curving and loom of fate, though. The last line drives it home and makes you feel like a loser. Unless, of course, you’re out killing people. Then you’re obviously awesome.

RocknRolla

Guy Ritchie really only knows how to make one movie. I’m just glad he got back to making that movie. Maybe I’ll just a flithy American philistine, but I thoroughly enjoyed both Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch. Hilarious scenes, great soundtracks, ludricious plots. But many reviewers shit on both of them while saying RocknRolla was Ritchie’s best film. Fuck them. RocknRolla isn’t as entertaining as either of those movies, but it’s still pretty damn great. I’m definitely hoping Ritchie is able to follow through on his proposed trilogy. At this point, you know whether or not you like Guy Ritchie, so I don’t believe any more commentary is needed.

So if you’re reading this, you probably care about A-Rod and baseball, which means you know the news this weekend concerning the two. Four anonymous sources have confirmed that A-Rod tested positive for anabolic steroids in 2003. Something that never should have been made public, but has been leaked nonetheless. And the MLB network was loving every minute of it. It was great to watch someone else other than the guys on ESPN talk about the fallout of such a revelation, especially Bob Costas. I don’t know where the internet community stands on the tiny dude, but I unequivocally approve of the MLB network bringing him on board.

Getting back to the topic that will be talked about incessantly during Spring Training — I’m not surprised at all, and I don’t understand how anyone could be. I think the only player that would surprise me with a similar revelation would be Omar Vizquel.  Now granted, this type of evidence certainly wouldn’t hold up in a court of law, but whoever is leaking this information certainly doesn’t want to get in trouble, so I can understand the anonymity. I have no problem assuming that the allegations are true, even if it almost makes me feel bad for A-Rod at this point. There were apparently 103 other guys that tested positive, but his name is the only one leaked? Isn’t all the Madonna, shemale-loving, and Joe Torre book shit enough? Oh well, I guess $25 million a year can alleviate the pain somewhat. I’m just extremely curious about the rest of the list. 104 guys tested positive when they knew there was going to be testing — can you imagine how many guys were taking them in the years leading up to 2003? Christ.

That’s the bigger deal here. A-Rod taking steroids is a big blow to all the people that held him up as the poster boy for being the great clean hope of breaking Bonds’ HR record, but 104 players tested positive? And this was supposed to be kept under wraps forever and now has leaked to the public? The Players’ Union must be PISSSSEDDDD. But you reap what you sow, and this whole era has become such a goddamn shitshow that it’s pretty much a joke at this point. The problem was ignored for so long that now the media and even the freaking U.S. Government can’t let go of it. It feels like so long ago that McGwire made a fool of himself on national television, and I don’t see this blowing over any time soon, especially if that list of 104 players is made public knowledge.

At this point, I’m starting to lean towards allowing all these juicers in the Hall of Fame. Guys in every era took stuff to get an edge, amphetamines being the drug of choice in the 70s and 80s for the most part. If you keep all the alleged roiders out at this point, you’re going to missing a massive part of baseball history, quite honestly. Just stamp CHEATER on their plaques. Acknowledge that they were the best out of an entire pool of cheaters. Is that punishing guys that stayed clean? For the most part, I don’t think so, as there are guys that made it in without cheating. Possibly it hurts the borderline guys that never juiced, but shit, what can you do? I can see writers voting for those type of guys in 10-15 years, anyhow.

One thing that stands out to me in all this steroid talk: you never hear Manny Ramirez mentioned, on either side of the debate. I just find it interesting. I guess everyone just agrees that Manny being Manny does not include taking PEDs.

Soundgarden with Brian May – New Damage

I’ve been addicted to the original Badmotorfinger version of this song for a few weeks now. Of course, I always loved it for Cornell’s inhuman screaming — which I think is much more abrasive, and therefore superior, on Badmotorfinger — but recently I’ve found myself more often than usual frustrated in my car, so the song has fulfilled the need to blast music loud enough so I cannot hear myself think.

I found this version while searching for the song on YouTube, and even if I found the original, I might have posted this anyway. Brian May is awesome, and this version is probably even harder than the original. Who am I kidding, I love Cornell’s singing on Badmotorfinger too much. Why can’t Soundgarden get back together like RATM?

Note: I guess YouTube just started showing the titles on embedded videos, huh? Pretty cool.

For all intents and purposes, it started on Saturday night for me. I stayed up to watch the entire Roger Federer-Rafael Nadal Australian Open final. Yes, I was awake at 8:30 AM to watch Federer bawl his Swiss eyes out. I knew I had time to sleep before the American part of the day, and I’m glad I was able to watch Federer turn into a massive vagina on live television.

Up until the 5th set, this may have been the best match I’ve seen between the two, even better than the Wimbledon final last year. There were so many rallies that totally blew my mind, and most of them were won by Nadal. But then the fifth set was a massive letdown, with Federer totally pussying out. The 22-year-old Spaniard just wanted the title more. Nadal had played a 5+ hour match two nights before — while Federer had a extra day of rest — and after playing 4 and a half hours, Nadal was the one who looked like he could play another 5 sets. Federer, after getting broken in the that final set, just gave up. And then in the aftermath, he cried, making Nadal feel he needed to apologize again for being the better player.

After this match, I feel safe in saying this: I have never been so enthralled watching tennis as I am when I watch Rafael Nadal play. I’ve never seen a player so absolutely relentless, so mentally tough. As incredible as it is to watch Federer totally embarrass and dismantle his opponents, he just always makes it look too easy. Obviously he cares, and has immense passion for the sport, but Nadal just leaves his heart out on the court every. single. match. Every single point, even. He’s a goddamn madman who plays with total abandon and with no regard for his knees, which may explode at any moment. What happened to Federer in that fifth set would never happen to Nadal, and that’s why he has a shot at winning the Grand Slam this year. He has conquered every court now, and he owns the one man who could possibly stand in his way.

Now on to the biggest unofficial American holiday. I feel pretty un-American that I was more excited for the AO final than the Super Bowl, but come on, the Cardinals? And actually, I probably can’t type any more about the Super Bowl than I just did for the AO final. I missed the first quarter due to getting lost in an epic fashion, then missed the first 8 minutes of the third quarter due to the halftime Rock Band sesh going on too long. And even when i did watch, I was only half paying attention. Except for the 4th quarter, of course.

Why did it take Kurt Warner so long to start throwing to Larry Fitzgerald? The dude is an absolute beast. I feel like Arnold needs to kill him at some point. Predator was the MVP of the game, easily — it’s just a shame that Roethlisberger survived slamming his head through that windshield to come back and manufacture that winning drive. On a final note, that 100-yard INT return by Harrison was hilarious shit. There was no way that should’ve happened.

So, uh, Christian Bale is apparently as big a primadonna actor as every other douchebag in Hollywood. Maybe primadonna isn’t even the right word — asshole, maybe? I mean, I still think he’s a pretty great actor when he wants to be, but this is easily the worst behind-the-scenes flipout to come out in recent history. Bill O’Reilly? Chris Berman? Nothing compared to this tirade on the set of Terminator Salvation. Guess he was all ready with his intense face and when he couldn’t take his anger out on robots, he had to take it out on that dude.

You can listen to it at the awesome site FilmDrunk.

It’s pretty hilarious how he seems in charge of the set, instead of the DIRECTOR of the movie, McG. I wouldn’t allow a guy with a name like  that to tell me what to do either, even if it is a stage name. Wait, that’s even worse.