Chaiming In: Holiday Edition

My God, I leave this place for a few months and it all goes to pot. Is this thing on? Does this website work? Are we on the Internet? Is this live? Does my mother still check this site? What about Daft's Mom? (I'm pulling out (of) all of the oldies but goodies!). Let's get down to the bullet points for the last man standing, ergo, reading.

• I'm being told in my earpiece that there is going to be some new site launching in a few months that is kind of like that cartoon Voltron, whatever that means. Did I let the cat out of the bag? I don't know. But if you were burned when you invested in shares of Pomp Culture, you might want to sit this one out. The details are sketchy, but I can only imagine it involves pornography, t-shirts with wolves, Twittering, the sale of banned prescription drugs, and in some form or another, The Cubs. From all indications, it will involve several new writers and some old ones. The Hundley has been asked to return. Jordi Scrubbings has not.
• Avatar, for the most part, lives up to the $300 million dollar hype. See it in 3D though, for the love of the Blue Man Group. The visuals are amazing and the last 45 minutes are really unlike anything you've ever witnessed. It's far from the perfect movie: the story is rife with cliches, Sam Worthington's acting is as stiff as Tommy Buzanis on a Cialis bender and things begin to drag about 90 minutes in before picking up again. That said, the action scenes and visuals (the previews don't do them justice) more than compensate for the films flaws, none of which prove fatal. The line, 'you need to see this on the big screen' is probably overused in this day and age of HDTVs and surround sound, but make no doubt about it: you need to see this on the big screen...and in 3D if at all possible. I had a myriad of doubts going in, but walked out of the film a believer. A very solid B+.
• On the other end of the spectrum is Up in the Air, starring the dashing and well-spoken George Clooney. I don't really feel like giving a detailed review (I'm not your goddamn father), only to say that it is very good, even if it is the antithesis of Avatar. I'm not sure we should crown it Best Picture already like some circles already have, but I can't imagine anyone leaving this one disappointed. Solid entertainment the discerning adult and contemporary male. Let's give this one a B+ as well.
• "New Fang" by Them Crooked Vultures could very well be the Single of the Year (right up there with Pearl Jam's "The End"). The rest of the album? The jury is still out, but my dick is still in my pants.
  
• A War Hero on cheese and crackers is forthcoming. Don't agree with me on that one? Then, by all means, log off the Internet and log onto me murdering you while you sleep.
• It took me a while to warm up to it, but that show Modern Family on ABC is really good. A poor man's Arrested Development, it's finally given me something to watch on day other than Thursday. For the sake of continuity, lets give that one a B+ as well.
• Lots of noise being made about Milton Bradley. I'm trying to keep a safe distance away from the hoopla because A) I need a mental break from the Cubs after last season and B) I don't like Milton Bradley and would just prefer that I wake up on April 1st to find him not in the lineup, upon which I will just logically assume that the Cubs managed to trade him for a warm body whose testicles have dropped and has an inclination to hustle and smile (preferably at the same time).
  
• Raves: the song 'Relator' (shockingly enough, sung by Pete Yorn and Scarlett Johansson), Rosemary and Olive Oil Triscuits, NFL playoff races, mole sauce, Amazon Prime, Flip Video Ultra HD, HP Pavilion dv6T laptop, Sabra hummus, Simply Limeade, cars with butt warmers.
• Rants: Semi-trucks, freezing temperatures, grinches, impatient drivers, getting sweets as a Christmas present, genocide.

Chaiming In

-So Mini Fist was a rousing success, so long as you define success as a Cubs rain out, followed by 5 hours of heavy drinking at The Gingerman, your favorite handsome blogger passed out by 7:30, and Wolter and Chip Wesley ending the night at a bar designed for boys who like boys. Now that's what I call "arousing success"! (Enter Dave Thomas playing Yakety Sax on kazoo.)

Special thanks to reader and TMS loyalist Nick V for making an appearance. Nick, I technically remember you being there and donning a black t-shirt and close cropped hair, but other than that, you're a mystery to me.

-It's been a little slow going here on the site as far as content goes, save for the arousing success of the Song of the Day. That proved to be about as popular as Magic Johnson's talk show, or more to the point, every other music venture TMS has done. But really...interested in writing for the site? Send some samples to thundermatts@gmail.com. Let's be honest. You don't even need to be that good. Relatives of crappy relief pitchers need not apply.

We already have one new writer. Ladies and gentlemen, Null Void! Scrolling down, it looks like he already pre-dated some really good posts. The Saloon will rise again, don't you worry. Dear reader, it's up to you to help spread the word about this site. It can be bigger than Ashton Kutcher's Twitter feed!

-A hearty congrats to fellow bartender and fake baker The Hundley who finally ties the knot this weekend. I know a lot of people were "getting worried" about The Hundley, and I'm not just talking about his drinking problem, which is a whole different beast. Oddly, none of the other bartenders were invited to this surely extravagant (not to mention sordid) affair, but rest assured that a Trojan Horse will arrive at the chapel just in time. (Dave Thomas: "Did somebody say Trojans?")

-The Cubs got PWNED by Joel Pinero tonight. He was really Maddux-esque. By the way, it's not pronounced Jol. It's Joe-EL. I bet that drunk LaRussa still pronounces it wrong. LaRussa reminds me of my old freshmen baseball coach. What a dick that guy was. Once I missed a cut-off throw and he made me sit on the pitcher's mound cross legged, while he hit infield with a fungo. Ground balls whizzed past my head as I prayed for Jesus to deliver me and strike that man down. That's the day I stopped believing in a higher power.

-Finally, here are some underrated things that you need to get your hands on:

Whole Grain Waffles. Way better than regular Eggos, and one would imagine better for you. Holy shit those things are good when you're on the run in the morning. No syrup needed. Throw some butter on those motherfuckers and make it rain!

Onitsuka Tiger shoes by Asics. Great all-purpose tennis shoe, good for kicking it around town. Comfortable as hell and stylish enough that the ladies will all want to rub your inner thigh.

Saturn Astra. GM really dropped the ball (as usual) on this underrated gem. Great car for the big city. Also stylish enough that the ladies (and dudes) will want to rub your inner thigh.

The Old Man and the Sea. Quick read. Classic read. And I don't even like fishing!

The Godfather Trilogy on BluRay. Mesmerizing. Brando in HD will make you shit your pants like George Brett.

The Cubs t-shirt I bought at MiniFist. As I apparently kept repeating, "Look at how blue it is!"

Chaiming In: Anti-Climatic Comeback Edition

Like Favre with Jets and Jordan with Wizards, The Saloon is back after a brief and hastily planned retirement . Better than ever? This is highly doubtful. Like that aging athlete that hangs around longer than he should, our skills are lacking but we have the heart of a champion. And thanks to performance enhancing drugs, our recovery time is outstanding.

Since the announcement of our return via most of the major media outlets, I have been flooded with emails. Some of these has been of the sexual variety, which is to be expected, but others have concerned the direction of the site.

-Will you still cover the Ginger Giant?
-What ever happened to that Daft Funk guy? Is he deceased?
-Does Tommy Buzanis still refuse to sign up for an Debit card on the basis that 'cash is king' and 'strippers don't take plastic'?
-What is the site's plan for stimulating both the economy and my privates?
-Will we see the return of some of the Saloon's beloved characters and columns at the expense of consistent Cubs coverage?

Dear reader, the answer to all of those questions, even the ones that aren't yes/no questions, is 'yes'. Expect our Cubs coverage to be woefully spotty, our post frequency to be as erratic as Ronald McDonald's driving after a half dozen rum-infused Shamrock Shakes and all of our posts to be esoteric and random enough to scare away even the most open-minded (see: high) readers.

So welcome back. Tell all your friends and your arch-rivals too. We have a lot of hands on deck and we look forward to servicing all of you.

Chaiming In: Clip Show Edition

One week ago, when discussing the final week of TMS with the fellow bartenders, my ambition ran high and my enthusiasm was unrivaled. I was ready to tackle the world and go out with a bang. Realm of Red, Overrated/Underrated, Movie Minute, you name it, I was ready to do it. I was really gonna fuck up your life with some seriously mind-blowing shit.

Then real life happened. I got a case of Rocco Baldelli-esque 'chronic fatigue' and my ambition level (along with my sperm count) plummeted. Besides, when you try to top yourself with a hyped-up finale, you're setting yourself up for failure. Seinfeld anyone? (Yep, I just compared my writing and the TMS legacy to Seinfeld. Baleedat!)

Besides, we're not really going away now are we? Our readership? Well yes, that will likely fade like Thunder's career, but we'll still be here in cyberspace (Pomp Culture, bookmark it like you would a good free porn site or Cooks Illustrated), plugging away in relative anonymity like Clint Howard.

My friends, I promise you this. If you follow us to Pomp Culture, you will get another Realm of Red. (It's been so long most readers probably have no fucking idea what a Realm of Red even is.) I can also promise you that if you continue to read us over at Pomp Culture that Chip Wesley will service each and every one of you with his hand. That is a guarantee. From Chip's mouth to your...aaaannd I've derailed.

Anyway, in the tradition of all those great 80's sitcoms whose writers couldn't think of anything other than 'it was all a dream' for the finale and instead settled on 'clip show', I present to you Chaim Witz's Greatest (Relatively Speaking) Hits, as selected by my ego. Actually, I was too lazy to sift through all my old posts, so some of these are probably filler.

-War Hero: Julio Franco - Not only my crowning moment at TMS, but probably my whole life.

-War Criminal: Bill Belichick's Sweatshirt - If there's one thing we were good at here at TMS, it was bitching about things. My rant of Bill-O's fashion faux pas drew the ire of Pats fans everywhere. I'm still partial to War Criminal: Geese.

-Realm of Red: Danny Bonaduce - The obvious pick would have been David Caruso, the originator, but this one gets the nod.

-Two words: Ski masks.

-There are no words to describe the enigma known as Phillip Mitchell. Well, actually there are words, and I'll let Phillip read them to you.

-2007 TMS Man of the Year: Manute Bol - Who will be the Pomp Culture 2008 Man of the Year? Hard to tell, but you should never count out Jonathan Lipnicki.

-Overrated/Underrated: Condiments - Can you say, 'firestorm of controversy'? Or 'Firestorm' starring Howie Long?

-This is not your father's Ronald McDonald.

-Who can forget my horrifying foray into the world of facial hair? Amber Alert!

-I wrote a lot of movie reviews, but fuck that. Anyone with a brain knows that Drunkblogs were the lifeblood of TMS. Vodka tonics were my poison for the Oscar Drunkblog.

-Half of the TMS crew gets together for a Cubs game and live to tell about it. Nachos.

-Cubs Media Social: This helped put us on the map. Alas, we lost the map and everyone was too stubborn to pull over and ask for directions.

-Speaking of Tommy Buzanis...

-Tommy Buzanis and I make love to Dutchie. Figuratively, not literally.

Well folks, it's getting late and I'm tired from all this typing and all of this lovemaking. See you over at Pomp Culture. Say hello to your mother for me. I leave you with this bio of Zach Galifianakis to remember me by.

I am from the foothills of North Carolina. I now live in the mountains of that
state. And also live in Brooklyn. I come from a strong family. I enjoy tractors
and red wine. I feel that living your life in contradiction keeps one confused
and happy. I dislike those that litter. Sometimes I like to go to the zoo and
ride on the backs of bison. I dream of Iceland from time to time. It makes me
laugh when people miscommunicate. I like walking over bridges and hate Donald
Trump or anything like him. The entertainment business is both poison and honey.
I drive a Subaru. It is an automatic. I cry sometimes in that car.

Chaiming In: Swan Song Edition

- By now you've all heard that the end of the Saloon is nigh. A lot of people have written to me asking, "But Chaim, why change? This site is like a comforting blanket of mediocrity and you're so handsome. I don't understand." Listen Mom, I appreciate the sentiment, but it's time for change. We must have a hope for a better tomorrow. That hope is Pomp Culture.

Look back at some of the posts on TMS over the past year and ask yourself, "Is this site better off than it was 8 months ago?"

I think we all know the answer to that question.

So don't fear change my friends. Thunder Matt's Saloon is the old, stubborn white guy who has been around forever and served the Intenet well, but whose recycled ideas and inconsistency prevent it from moving forward. Sure, we energized the base for a while by adding some new writers, but that move was calculated and gimmicky from the very start. Pomp Culture is the upstart black guy with new ideas, a bold vision and a promise of a better tomorrow. Sure it's new and inexperienced, but it also promises to be exciting, passionate and intelligent, exercising good judgement and diplomacy to navigate the troubling waters of the Internet.

So my friends, on November 11th, I ask you to cast your vote for Pomp Culture. You don't even need to leave the comfort of your own home to do so. Like a comforting, slightly less mediocre blanket, we'll be there.

-Speaking of voting...seriously, vote. Beat the lines and vote early. Actually, depending on where you live, the lines might be quite horrifying already, but none-the-less, vote. Bring a magazine to pass the time. If you were fellow bartender Governor Gray Davis that magazine might be Playgirl. If you were The Hundley, maybe Guns and Ammo. Chip Wesley? Cooks Illustrated. Careful with that Russian Playgirl Brant Brown. Daft Funk? Probably an anime comic book. Tiger Beat for Dave Thomas. Jordi likes the color photos in WWE Magazine. Loser Poet rocks one of those hairstyle magazines they have in salons. Surely E-Claire subscribes to some sort of pamphlet with articles penned by Maya Angelo and Sarah McLachlan. And LB...well he's English, so he just stays home with a stack of British lad mags and a plate of Scotch Eggs, conjuring up lewd thoughts of Campbell Brown.

No matter what your magazine of choice, vote. I don't care if you 'don't like politics'. Do you also not like your life or the welfare of the country? Listen, I won't tell you who to vote for. I'll be casting my vote for the good Senator from Illinois but far be it from me not to tell not to vote for Bob Barr of the Green Party. I will say though, if you're on the fence and you're a Cubs fan, do you really want to tempt fate and quite possibly suffer through another soul-crushing defeat by putting your eggs in the McCain basket? Think about it.

-Congratulations to the Philadelphia Phillies, 2008 World Series Champs, much to the chagrin of fellow bartender, Afro rocker and Rays fan, Sir Jordi of Florida. I can't say that I paid as much attention to the Series as I probably should have, but the Phillies aren't wholly unlikable. Jimmy Rollins, Ryan Howard, Jason Werth, Chase Utley...they seem like a decent enough group of chaps. But for the love of Frank Caliendo, is it too much to ask for an exciting World Series? Good Lord. The Series hasn't gone past Game 5 since 2003 and the last real tense series was probably the Year of the Rally Monkey back in 2002. I mean, c'mon. You just know the Cubs would have went seven games. Win or lose, there is no way that they would have made this easy on their fans.

-Recent movies that I've seen, loved and will review at a later date: the new Danny Boyle film Slumdog Millionaire (opening November 12th in select theatres), Mickey Rourke's comeback vehicle and soon-to-be Oscar darling, The Wrestler (in theatres December 19) and smart drama disguised as a possible chick flick, Rachel Getting Married (in theatres now). The new Bond movie, Quantum of Solace, was also very good, though not quite on par with Casino Royale.

How bad does that new Jim Carrey movie, Yes Man look? A comedy about a guy who says 'no' to everything and then wakes up one day to find that he now mysteriously says 'yes' to everything. Ripping off the concept to one of your less-than-a-decade-old movies (Liar Liar) might be a new low.

Rants: Kings of Leon - Only By the Night, iTunes, Thunder Matt's Saloon, Sean Hannity, Greg Oden, Dallas Cowboy drama, wine headaches, the economy, turtlenecks.

Raves: TV On the Radio - Dear Science, Amazon MP3 Store, Pomp Culture, Barack Obama, Derrick Rose, Kurt Warner's under the radar season, the new Rolling Stone format.

Chaiming In

-Facebook, you son of a bitch. I'm really torn. My wife has it, as do a few of my friends. But in my experience there are two unwavering qualifications for being a child molester. The first being that you still use a Hotmail account as your primary email address. The second being that you're 30 years or older and have a Facebook/MySpace page.

So therein lies the quandary. The other day I decided to dabble. Logged on to Facebook.com. Stared at the screen for a while. Felt dirty and did a lap around the apartment. Stood in the doorway, breathing heavily while Facebook mocked me. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, I sat back down and signed up for an account. That was easy. Just an email address (not Hotmail) and a password. No pictures required. I have nudes if necessary.

I enter my high school and college info and complete my registration. Up pop a bunch of former classmates. The proverbial blasts from the past from high school that I haven't seen in 12 years. Good God, this is great! I'm looking at former classmates, mocking them. This is funny. But wait, I can't accesses their pages. No! I need more. I can't stop here. Their small profile pictures did nothing but wet my appetite. But they have to add me as a 'friend' for me to see their actual page.

This poses a problem.

The whole point of this is so that I can gain accesses for former classmates and acquaintances and revel in their mundane details of their lives. I want to see who got fat, who is gay, who still lives with their mothers, the percentage of male classmates that have goatees...I need to know this shit. It will make me feel so much better about my life. You see, I was a bit of an outcast in high school. I grew a mullet. I wore a pre-reunion KISS jacket. I was painfully shy. I wasn't a nerd, I wasn't a jock, I wasn't a brain. I just sort of existed. Quietly.

Now all of these old insecurities come flooding back. They have to 'add' me as a friend? But what if they don't want to be my friend? They don't know the suave, cosmopolitan and devilishly handsome Chaim Witz. They know the quiet weirdo. Fuck.

Do I really need the acceptance of people that I hated 12 years ago? Maybe. I do know that I want to read their Facebook pages though. I want to see if they're still assholes. Maybe some of them are cool now. And college buddies....I was much cooler in college. Maybe I can reconnect with some of those dudes. Will they remember who I am though? Facebook, you motherfucker. I can't quit you, but I don't know where to start.

-Poor Man's War Criminal: Undecided voters less than 2 weeks out. Really? I mean, really? These past two years haven't given you enough information to make a decision? You do realize that the debates are over, so your chances of securing one of those coveted 'focus group' spots and the snazzy dials that go along with it are kaput right? Ok, so maybe you don't follow politics as much as Joe Blow, nay Joe the Plumber, but come on! The candidates could not be more different. It's time to shit or get off the pot.

Perhaps these are voters that want to vote for Obama, but still aren't totally comfortable going against the status quo and voting for a candidate who doesn't fit the 'old, white, safe' mold. Perhaps these voters don't like either candidate and are trying to decide between the perceived 'lesser of two evils'. Perhaps they are decided, but just want to help sway the polls for their candidate of choice. Whatever the case, it's time for the Undecideds to sack up and stick their flag in ground.

I turn the floor over to humorist David Sedaris, who said this in his piece about the Undecideds in the New Yorker (elitist!):

I look at these people and can’t quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention?

To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”

To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.

Chaiming In

Good Lord, I don't have time for this, but it seems like there are tumbleweeds rolling through TMS lately, so here goes nothing.

-The Cubs beat the Communists 5-0 in the first game of the series. All Rich Harden does is rack up double digit strikeouts. No signs of slowing down for this guy. The Cubs looked horrible on the basepaths, but that's ok cause they're playing the Reds. To Dusty's credit he is playing the young guys. But really he has no choice. They traded all of his veterans.

-I'm too lazy to write up a whole review, but I saw Tropic Thunder on Saturday and fail to see what all the hype was about. Lots of Hollywood 'in jokes'. I work in that industry and still found some of that stuff to be a bit stale. There is a funny Tom Cruise cameo, but the more I think about it, the only reason that its funny is because it's so odd to hear Tom Cruise cursing like a sailor and dressed up like in a fat suit, a la Eddie Murphy. (Remember kids...fat suits? Comedy gold!) Rent it for Downey, but go see Pineapple Express instead. Lets say 3 out of 5 stars, which might be a tad generous.

-The Olympics have been good enough to win over even the most jaded cynic. I really enjoyed Shawn Johnson, representing West Des Moines, bringing home the gold in the balance beam and overcoming China's homefield advantage. It's weird. Outside of the Olympics you probably couldn't pay me to watch gymnastics on TV. But every four years, there I am, sitting on the couch, nude and draped in an American flag, tears streaming down my face, whimpering the lyrics to 'Born in the USA'.

-We don't break many stories here, but I've got it on good word that Obama's VP might be none other than the Saloon's own Tommy Buzanis. He's got that 'red state' appeal and will fight for the common man. Actually he probably won't fight for the common man so much as he'll simply fight him. But Tommy tells me that 'Bama (as he calls him) has the number to his Sports Illustrated Football Phone that he keeps on the Orifice Penetrator and that he's been waiting there all week for his call. So far the only people to call are creditors and some guy claiming to be Don Johnson.

Rants: Vodka hangovers, Starbucks breakfast sandwiches, Simpsons references, summer television programming

Raves: Eargasm, Unprofessional Foul, The Handfelt Happy Hour, steak, beach volleyball, the Redeem Team, cocky Jamaicans, new singles from Extreme (!), Candlebox (!!) and Metallica

Chaiming In: Reader Participation Required

Today dear reader, I assault you with a variety of trivial questions, to be responded to in kind via the 'magic comment' feature. I expect, of course, the sounds of crickets and an orphan gently weeping. On to the show.

-The Cubs are faltering more than my old 1980 Ford Granada. Get the D-Bags out of my life. Something about them just ain't right. They reek of an Independent League team (Schaumburg Flyers) that crashed Bud Selig's non-alcoholic kegger. Now I'm saddled with flashbacks of both Nam' and the 07' NLDS. These kind of annual hitting slumps are usually reserved for the blustery throes of April. Also, either every honkey on the Diamondbacks has a goatee or they're showing an inordinate number of shots of Chad Tracy. Either way, I'm filing a grievance.

-The details shall emerge soon (I'm confounded as to why they haven't already), but the first weekend in August marks an epic gathering in Chicago of nearly all of the Saloon bartenders, dubbed 'Thunderfist 08'. Everyone from Tommy Buzanis to our California brethren will be in attendance. Cubs vs. Buccos, bleachers on Saturday, August 2nd. If you're a local, or happen to be in town, we encourage you to meet up with us at The Gingerman Tavern after the game so that you can buy us a round of beer and breathlessly tell us what your 'favorite column EVER' is. We'll make sure we all wear Cubs shirts so that we're easy to spot.

-Ladies and gentlemen, Tommy Buzanis is about to dock the Orifice Penetrator and come straight into your living rooms (Literally. Look behind you He's passed out standing up behind your curtains.) Look for Tommy's account of his recent trip to England (for reals) tomorrow. It's short, filled with mishaps, and contains lots of laughs, much like his sexual endeavors.

-If you still have that damn Mamma Mia! song stuck in your head (thanks Funk), re-read my review of The Dark Knight. Judging from the box office numbers, many of you probably saw TDK. What did you think? Did you need to wear a jock strap to keep your dick from getting dirty?

-Apparently everyone is going ga ga over this Watchmen trailer. It peeks my interest enough to make me think about my first graphic novel purchase. (Nerd siren sounding.) Has anyone read it? I even noticed on iTunes that the Smashing Pumpkins song used in the trailer is one of the Top 10 downloads of the week.

-My overtly creepy man-crush on bearded comedian Zach Galifianakis has been documented on this site before. His three new web commercials for Absolut Vodka are a study in subtle humor. Genius! (And suitable for work viewing) Watch them here, here and here. On the not-so-subtle comedy spectre, I'll review Step Brothers later this week.

-Finally, I leave you to chime in on a debate that has raged amongst the Saloon bartenders via email thread for a solid month now. Chicago Style hot dogs. Yep, that's right. It started months ago, when Governor Gray Davis outed himself (in more than one way) as a ketchup sympathizer, slathering the red sauce all over his juicy wieners. As both a Chicagoan and someone over 5 years of age, I cried 'blasphemy'! A raucous and rather mean-spirited debate followed, with lines drawn in the sand and brass knuckles polished. It had seemingly died down until I mentioned that for our Thunderfist 08' meal at my humble abode, the menu would include, yes, 'Chicago Style' hot dogs. I was chastised (mostly by the Californians) for the use of the term 'Chicago Style'; as if I had somehow made it up on a pretentious whim and that it hadn't originated as far back as 1929. I mean c'mon. Chicago style pizza. New England Clam Chowder. New York Style Pizza. Philly Cheesesteaks. Kansas City BBQ. Iowa Tenderloins. Listen California, I'm sorry that you're more famous for silicone (not that we Midwesterners can't appreciate that) than good cuisine (LA Style Red Bull? The Hills Style Parliaments? The California Roll? Rice A Roni?); but until you can contribute more than just Cobb salads and Tofu burgers to the national consciousness, you have no say in the palettes of grown ass men. So I open it up to the floor. How do you like your wieners? That seems like a good question to end on.

Rants: The Cubs lack of hitting, the post 9/11 recession

Raves: The Big Bam: The Life and Times of Babe Ruth, American Teen, MGMT, Dunkin Donuts Iced Coffee, Palermo's frozen pizza

*In keeping with the 'reader participation' idea, feel free to share your rants and raves too.

Now here's a background template that I can get behind. Hi-Yo!

Chaimng In: Strange Brew Edition

Coming to you straight from the poop deck of the Orifice Penetrator, anchored somewhere in the middle of Great Bear Lake, I bring you these stray, Molson-induced observations:

-The boys in blue take 2 of 3 from the boys in powder blue. Machine Gun Lilly and Jason Marquis combine for two wins and zero smiles. Nothing particularly boner-inducing from this series, save for the Jays cool old uniforms they aren't afraid to break out. They don't give a shit. Reed Johnson? Still more popular north of the border than he is here. Jim Edmonds? Playing well, but unlike Reeder, he has no chance of winning me over, save for a series-clinching, playoff walk-off. Damn you and your restaurants Edmonds. Toronto pitching? Solid. Toronto hitting? About as imposing as me with my shirt off. Marco Scutaro? Kevin Mench? Jason Inglett? Exit stage left of my life. You'll never compete with the Yankees and Red Sox, nay, the Rays, with that collection of vagabonds and child molesters. Next.

-I listened to Saturday's game on the radio while sunning myself in a Canadian flag adorned Speedo. Santo was gone. In his place, the horrifically insignificant Dave Otto. That guy is like the K-Mart of sports announcers. I was able to lure several small children over to the boat with promises of candy and blackberry brandy, just so I could make them listen to snippets of Otto, before sternly warning them, "Don't be like that." The screams of their horrified parents aside, I think I may have gotten through to a few of them.

-Word is that the Cubs are in the market for a starting pitcher. We're hearing the names of two pitchers with initials for first names. 'CC Sabathia' and 'AJ Burnett'. I'd prefer CC (Deville), if only because, well, as Cubs fan, I have this phobia of pitchers with a history of arm injuries. Plus, it's been well documented that I love me a fat player (Cecil Fielder, Fernando Valenzuela, Louie Anderson).

-These NBA Finals are about as exciting as waiting for a wealthy old relative to die so you can have their inheritance. Who is this Kobe Bryant that I've heard everyone talk about? I haven't seen him show up in any of these games. Am I missing something?

-You know what's underrated? Mediterranean food. Tommy cooked me up quite the feast the other night. Hummus, falafel, dill rice and of course, Tommy's Famous Beef Kabob. I love putting Tommy's beef kabob in my mouth. So tender. Try it.

-The commercials for that movie The Love Guru? Sent me into an epileptic fit and I don't even have epilepsy. Somebody get me a beef kabob!

-Our prayers go out to our brethren to the west in Iowa. The footage is like a scene out of that Costner movie Waterworld, and just as hard to watch. I'm not sure what my home state did to cause Fortuna's wheel to spin downward like this, but they're a resilient folk who will bounce back.

-The Cubs now move on to play the Rays. A few years ago and fans would be cursing the baseball gods for putting such an abomination on the schedule, but now it makes for a potentially intriguing and exciting series. I'm sure the national press will be all over the whole Cliff Floyd vs. his former mates angle. Cubs take two of three and I take two of three from Tommy in Yahtzee.

Chaiming In

Today's edition, brought to you choc full of inside jokes, Cubs news and unabashed political views!

-Kerry Wood missed today's game due to 'back spasms'. And in other news, the sun came up, the sky is blue, America is still at war, Lingering Bursitis got drunk, my shingles flared up and Hossrex didn't get laid.

-Can we get an impartial judge to impose some sort of deadline for these Brian Roberts trade talks? These fruitless talks have gone on longer than The Burning of the Red Lotus Temple. To tell you the truth, I don't even want the guy any more. I like my sports stories to be thrilling and full of surprise, and this is just too anti-climatic. I'm fine sticking with HOBB (Hero of Brant Brown), Mark DeRosa, or as he goes by on the message boards, MDR. No to mention that any trade for Roberts probably means that we have to sound 'Taps' for our namesake, Thunder Matt. Honestly though, what is left to negotiate in this deal? Are they bickering over whether to include a Gino's deepdish or Uno's thincrust in the deal? Can't they find a common ground and just settle on Lou Malnati's instead? I blame Ken.

-Both Dempster and Lieber pitched well yesterday. Good enough to probably solidify their tenuous spots in the rotation. Operation Blackball Jason Marquis is in full swing. Is anyone (besides Jason Marquis' mother) really going to be upset if he doesn't make the rotation? Not me. I grant you, he didn't suck as heartily as I figured he would last year, but I mean that as backhanded as a backhanded compliment can get. I like Dempster. I've met him before (namedropping!) and he seems like a really cool, funny guy...not your stereotypical, 'Got any gum?' jock. So I rooted for him last year even when he was blowing games left and right and making my wiener go limp. And Jon Leiber? Much like his asexuality, I'm indifferent.

-Oh Cubs pitchers, you're incorrigible! Pretending to wreck your strength coach's car and shit. (With lisp) That's ssssilly.

-I'm convinced that Thunder Matt must have wronged Sweet Lou. Their relationship seems strained, awkward and distant. Thunder is literally the red-headed stepchild of the equation. He wants nothing more than to please Dad. He tries his hardest, he's a great listener and he does all that is asked of him and more. He finishes his chores on time and keeps his locker spiffy. But it's never enough for you is it Dad? You want someone more in your mold huh? Hard nosed and mean. Gritty and tough. Well I'm sorry Dad, but that's not me! Deal with it. (Sobbing)

Can we get the team chaplin in here to call a truce? As long as the team Chaplin isn't Obama's minister. Yikes. That wouldn't end well.

-Speaking of politics, I know we keep that topic off limits here, but what the hell...we've tackled HIV and Chronic Fatigue, so why not? Don't let the hatemongers lead you to believe this Minster crap should reflect directly on Obama's character and beliefs. It's insanity. Listen, I'm Catholic. Went to Catholic school for over 10 years. If my priest was diddling the alter boy, am I accountable for the sins of the Father? Move on people. Don't be like these guys.

-Have you seen the previews for this Fox show The Moment of Truth? I watched the last half for the first time tonight, but judging from the commercials, every episode seems to be the same. They apparently only recruit sluts and douchebags (check out this great site, courtesy of the Governor, for an idea of what the talent is like), hook them up to lie detectors and then ask them questions like, 'Have you ever pumped another dude?' and 'Did you bang your wife's best friend?' And of course, their spouse is always right there in the audience, looking appropriately mortified. Oh, and the answer inevitably tends to be incriminating. Yes...watching marriages and relationships fall apart on live TV before your eyes is just as awkward and unpleasant as it sounds.

Rants: Conservative talk shows, Fox television, the movie Sleepwalkers, and of course, cilantro.

Raves: Free Radio on VH1, Sopranos Season 6 so far (3 episodes left, and yes, I pretty much know how it ends), Buster Olney

Chaiming In

-For the first time since the Taft Administration, I watched the NBA Slam Dunk contest over the weekend. Oddly enough, I enjoyed it. Dwight Howard's 'Superman Dunk' made me leap from the couch and scream 'Spud Webb!' I was about 3/4 of the way through a bottle of Pinot Noir at that point. Magic Johnson was one of the judges/announcers. Pretty sure he still has AIDS.

-Clemens vs. McNamee. I've never been a fan of courtroom dramas. C'mon, is there any doubt that Clemens is guilty? I love how he tried to pawn everything off on his wife. Oh Rog. You're silly.

-What a devastating winter this has been in the Midwest. Just a swift kick to the genitals that makes you rethink your life and where it all went wrong. I can't leave my home. I'm about to go all 'Donner Party'.

-I'm excited for baseball. At least once a day I curl up in the fetal position (nude), with my face buried in a leather glove, weeping.

-I'm too lazy to type up full reviews, but for now, in short: In Bruges: See it. Semi-Pro: Rent It. Horton Hears a Who: Skip It.

-School shootings. Enough already. Needless to say...War Criminal: School Shootings. May those cowards responsible burn on the lowest circle of hell.

-I'm really excited for this Fukudome character. I think he's gonna be one of those guys who is much more valuable for his 'intangibles' than his raw numbers. He should get on base a ton, play great defense and deliver clutch hits when needed. He might not put up huge numbers but I think (damn you 'hope'!) that we've got ourselves a 'gamer'.

-Cubs sign Alex Cintron. Is this a concession to the fact that the Brian Roberts trade isn't going to get done? Or, as the Tribune suggests, a harbinger of another trade?

-Thunder Watch: Still here. Still our fourth outfielder. Still underrated.

-Lindsay Lohan nude in the New York Magazine. Sweet, I can probably legitimately buy that magazine and say that I'm buying it 'for the articles'. It's a flimsy excuse that wouldn't be admissible in a court of law, but much more plausible than if it were Playboy. (That link is work suitable, don't worry.)

Raves: Pinot Noir, Cardigans, Goose Island 312, dinosaurs (particularly the Triceratops), Spring Training, Adidas Onitsuka Tigers, Trader Joes' 'Tortilla Chips with an Identity Crisis' (horrible name for a great chip), iPod speaker docks.

Rants: Snow, cold, wind, shingles, The Knight Rider movie.

Chaiming In

-Nice offensive outburst by the Cubs yesterday. Hopefully this gets us back on track. Who would have guessed that with Soriano out it would be our pitching, not our hitting that suffered?

-I love the play from the bench guys. Clearly that is a huge strength of this team. Every day somebody new steps up. Mark DeRosa? Jake Fox? Even Jason Kendall is earning his Pittsburgh endorsed paycheck of late. All this has to make Dwight Smith proud. Awww shit, you know!

-Thunder Matt seems to be going to work with a hardhat on lately, turning in blue collar, workmanlike performances every day. Keep punching that time clock Thunder.

-Going to the game on Saturday vs. the Cards. A few weeks ago I thought this would be a laugher. I could sit back, casually sip a few lukewarm Old Styles and make fun of all the guys wearing red polos shirts and sporting ill advised mustaches (Shit, is that Jeff Fisher?). Nope. One helluva dry spell later and this series suddenly takes on new meaning. We could be playing for first place. So could the Cards. Bring it on. Game recap to follow.

-They have been filming the new Batman movie, The Dark Knight, around town for the past month.* Word is they are going to blow up the old Brach's Candy building before leaving town. Sure, taste is subjective, but is there any doubt that this movie is going to kick ass?

-Speaking of movies (and I usually do)...if you want to cry this weekend, go to Rush Hour 3. If you want to laugh your ass off, go to Superbad. Even Roger Ebert loved it. Speaking of Roger, his belated review of Casino Royale is spot on. Here is something very cool. You can check out all of the old Siskel and Ebert reviews, plus all of the Ebert & Roeper ones if you're so inclined, here. Great site. I spent a good hour and a half plugging in my favorite movies.

-Seriously, what the hell happened to Cuba Gooding Jr?

-Ya know, I'm pretty indifferent to Van Halen.** But if I were a big fan I would be incensed that after all of the 'they're reuniting!/they're not reuniting!' bullshit, when they finally do get together, Eddie tabs his fat, 16 year old kid to play bass? C'mon. I've never heard the kid play. He may be great. But he's a kid who looks like Louie Anderson. That's just not aesthetically pleasing. I understand that not every 'reunion' is going to be a reunion of the truest sense, but at least hire a man! I don't need any father-son moments on stage. Is that mean of me? Probably. Oh well. A Van Halen reunion would have been cool the first time around, what, ten years ago? But does anyone even care anymore? At least Eddie doesn't look like a homeless women anymore. Well, a homeless women with a nice, butch haircut maybe, but a little better. I'm so superficial.

-Football is on the horizon my friends. Get excited. My allegiances remain with the Bears of course, but the Cardinals have me excited as well. My man love for Kurt Warner is well chronicled and for the first time, I have no ill will towards the guy that supplanted him. Kurt likes him too. Kurt's preseason line: 2-2, 73 YDS, 1TD.

Rants: humidity, Tony LaRussa's Sunglasses, incompetence.

Raves: Silverchair's new album Young Modern, Kissology Volume II, Rock of Love, What is the What.





*Though lately it has been overshadowed by the arrival of Brangelina, which has been front page news for the past week. Angie is filming some movie called Wanted, and the gossip writers are having a field day. The best was one column which was solely dedicated to where the pair might go to eat and places of interest which they might want to visit. It then proceeds to list obvious Chicago landmarks. That's some great investigative journalism right there.

**When anyone asks me 'Roth or Hagar', I reply with a steely glare, 'Cherone'.

Chaiming In

-So the Cubs beat the Nationals again with this guy in attendance. Coupled with a Brewers loss the Cubs now find themselves a meager 4.5 games back of the team that I have cleverly dubbed "The Brew Crew." (Copyright pending) They now start a 3 game series vs. the ass-end of the Pirates rotation. So of course, having been said that these are three very winnable games, they will proceed to go out and make Paul Maholm look like Don Sutton.*

-Zambrano gets beat out by Chris Young for the final spot. America has voted. Fat Z...you're going home. (Fat Z punches America)

-Reason #162 as to why I'm going to Zach Galifiankis tonight over the Black Crowes at the Taste. Let me recount my experience at the Taste this afternoon for lunch.

Me: (thinking to self) Beautiful day to go get some meat on a stick.

Me: (walking outside) Christ, it's too hot for denim. I may have made a error in judgement.

Me: (thinking to self) Fingers crossed that the obligatory shooting occurs while I'm here. I wonder what it would feel like to get shot in the thigh?

Me: I'll take 2 rolls of tickets please.

Cashier: That will be $14.

Me: (thinking to self) I have to find some shade. I think I've seen at least a quarter of these people on 'Cops'. You're such a pretentious dick Chaim.

Me: (thinking to self) That fat lady's ham hock of an arm just rubbed up against mine. I am covered in the sweat of a strange woman who is consuming dangerous amounts of wing sauce.

A Man Who is Clearly Not Homeless, But None-The-Less Looks Dangerous: Hey man, can I have a ticket?

Me: (slightly confused and still hungry) Huh? Uh, no.

Dangerous Man: Fuck you redneck. With your three million tickets, motherfucker.

**Let the record show that the defendant carried with him all of 20 tickets (most food items costing 6-8 tickets). NOT 3 million, as suggested.

Me: (thinking to self) I can't enjoy the assorted meats and fried doughs in these conditions. It is oppressively hot and I fear for my safety. I don't even want to throw my paper plate in that dumpster for fear I will find a baby in there. Help.

*The world needs more arbitrary Don Sutton references.

Chaiming In

-Two Out of Three Ain't Bad - Man, does it get any better than A-Ram's walk-off on Friday? It seems like the Cubs have a shortage of walk-off wins, but they seem to be remedying that lately. There seems to be some odd correlation between walk-off wins and good teams. Remember back in 2004 when the Red Sox won something like 86 of their games on a Big Papi walk-off homer? Someone may want to 'wikipedia' that figure, but I'm pretty sure it's right. On an obligatory negative note, can we please run Scott Eyre out of town? Package him with Jock and dump them somewhere. Into Lake Michigan for all I care. Maybe the Pirates will give us Jason Bay for 'em. Sounds crazy but didn't they give us A-Ram for Bobby Hill and Jose Hernandez? It's worth a shot.

-Soriano got jobbed out of the starting spot by Barry Bonds. Ugh. I'm surprised that Derrek Lee made it, since you knew LaRussa was going to pick Pujols as a backup. Certainly would have liked to see Fat Z get in, but given his rough start it doesn't come as too much of surprise. Aramis should have made it too, but what are you gonna do? There are always going to be deserving guys that get left off every year, no way around it. I am probably one of the few people that actually likes that every team has to be represented. If that means seeing Gil Meche selected over an 8th or 9th Yankee or Red Sox, so be it. Let the small market shitty teams at least have a shred of dignity.

-Live Free or Die Hard performed admirably at the box office, raking in $33 million over the weekend and $48 million since Wednesday. It's box office total jumped an amazing 30% from Friday to Saturday, indicating great word-of-mouth. It's Cinescore rating was A- and it had the highest opening weekend in the franchise's history. Yippee kay yay indeed. Now if it can just weather the upcoming Transformers storm.

-I too wish that Ken Griffey Jr. and Barry Bonds career trajectories had flip flopped.

Chaiming In

• Swept by the Marlins. (Crickets) Ugggggggla. Like a flashback from Nam', the memories of 2003 will haunt the Friendly Confines forever. Full disclosure: these confines ain't so friendly ma'am. Really there is nothing positive to say about this series. It was vaguely depressing, but more just kind of blah, like Easy Mac for lunch at work.

• The NL Central is terrible. Don't let the apologists (see: NL Central managers) tell you otherwise. Has any team ever won a division with a record less than .500? I should suspect not. Somebody check Wikipedia.


• I must say, I don't watch a lot of West Coast baseball, save for when ESPN interrupts regular programming to bring me the latest Barry Bonds at-bat, as he chases an increasingly meaningless record. Regardless, I have come to the decision after this past weekend that I don't really mind the Dodgers per se. They've got a great history, cool uniforms, a old school ballpark and some likable young guys. It probably doesn't hurt that my favorite player of all time, Fernando Valenzuela, donned Dodger Blue for his glory years. That said, until they purge their roster of Jeff Kent, I refuse to admit this affection to anyone other than the 3 people reading this. I feel my secret is safe with you guys.


• I've officially washed my hands of The Sports Guy. I'm sick of hearing his 'woe is me' take on being a fan of New England sports, and the fact that he has to recount every vomit-inducing conversation he has with his Dad is at best unneccessary, at worst incestual and creepy. Awww...Bill Simmons dad is a curmudgeonly old man with a heart of gold! How cliche. Dan McCarthy from Stanford, why don't you be my mouthpiece?


• Favorite boxer ever: James 'Buster' Douglas. Mark it down.


• I wouldn't mind an Xbox 360. Thing is, I don't want to pay for one in the traditional sense. That being said, I am soliciting offers from anyone who would like to just give me one. In exchange I will buy you any shirt from the Thunder Matt store (though I will clearly be pushing you towards the 'I was Ast-raped in 88' one). I'm also working on getting Alyssa Milano to add a couple Thunder Matt shirts to her 'Touch' line of clothing. My calls have gone unreturned but I remain cautiously optimistic.


• A few readers have reported Buzanis sightings at the following locales: Payday Loans. 5 miles off the coast of Cuba. In a hammock strung between two palm trees. In line at Orange Julius. A goofy golf course in Panama City. Riding the back of a great white shark. In the background as an extra during the season finale of Lost.


• Need some cheering up after the Cubs recent woes? Take a listen to the song 'In Transit' by Albert Hammond. This perfect summer ditty is the musical equivilent to a cup of coffee and bagel to start your morning off on the right foot.


• Seriously, go see Knocked Up or Once this weekend. What, you'd rather watch another Cubs meltdown? Get a sitter for the kids (or better yet, put the kids to sleep and sneak out...I've found that method to be highly underrated), score a corner booth at Applebees and then sneak your leftover Rib Tip platter into the local cineplex. Two hours of belly laughs and ten sticky BBQ fingers later you'll be wondering why you don't do that more often. You'll probably also be wondering where your kids went. (Most likely kinapped. Best case scenario it's a run-of-the-mill textbook 'runaway' case.)

Chaiming In

• It was a solid, if unspectacular series versus the Brew Crew up in Milwaukee. I'm encouraged by the way our team is hitting early on. Usually the Cubs bats stay as cool as Jack Nicholson at the Golden Globes and don't come out of hibernation until around the time when old people without AC start dying of heat stroke. Other than Alfie, they seem to be hitting the ball fairly well. Unlike years past, if the Cubs are trailing past the 7th inning, I probably won't find myself giving up hope quite as fast. Those 'King of Queens' reruns may have to just wait.
  

• I was talking with a guy from Milwaukee by way of California. He was saying how he missed the coast and the differences between when he would go out in California as opposed to going out in Milwaukee. In California, everybody was kind of chill and laid back, but in Milwaukee people just get shitfaced, lose their minds, punch things, dance uncontrollably and are totally unaccountable for their actions. He referred to it as being 'Milwaukee drunk'. Let this enter the lexicon of terms used here at TMS.
  

• Was I the only one who knew Zach Johnson would win The Masters. Wait, Zach who? According to Wikipedia (inside joke!) he's from Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Finally a celebrity from my home state I can be proud of. The other Iowa celebrity I refer to is, of course, my father Tom Arnold.

• Hopefully sooner rather than later I'll muster the willpower to post a couple of exciting and potentially arousing columns. On the horizon is an all new Realm of Red, a 'Who Is Tommy Buzanis?' profile and an intoxicating new column I will debut that profiles Wrigleyville bars. Bad pun intended, yes. I plan on doing lots of research for this column. And by research, I mean getting 'Milwaukee drunk'.

Milwaukee Drunk

Chaiming In, New Years Edition

While going home for the holidays I was shocked and horrified to hear 'Christmas Time' by Alvin and the Chipmunks. Do people actually buy the "Alvin and the Chipmunks" albums? Tis the season for murder I say! Doing a minimal amount of research, I find that yes, not only are people buying these albums, but they are rating them an average of 4.5/5 stars on Amazon. I mean these guys are to music what Al Qaeda is to the world.





Who's the boss now? I could fucking buy you Danza.










Barry Zito, or as my wife calls him, "the hottest guy in baseball...way better looking than you" just signed a 7 year, $126 million dollar deal with the Giants. They've done studies that show that good looking people earn more than ugly people. Comparing Zito's salary to Randy Johnson's, we see this to be true. I can see Zito not wanting to take his 85 mph heater to the softball diamond in Arlington, but San Fran? Good luck keeping that ERA down with the geriatrics you have behind you. At least once a week, Barry Bonds legs will fall off while running after the ball, leading to a record year for inside the park homers, and lots of Sam Crawford references . Doesn't Jack Clark still play for them? Seriously, they could sign Julio Franco and the median age on the team would actually decrease. In other exciting news, this Boras-negotiated contract will mean that Carlos Zambrano has the leverage to make the Cubs beg for mercy, rename Wrigley Field in his honor and provide discounted Old Style to all of his countrymen. Well shit, we better hope Rich Hill pans out.

Bob Knight is poised to become college basketball's all time winningest head coach. All I have to say about that is (long string of expletives. choking myself. throwing chair down the hallway, narrowly missing the cat. more expletives. burying my face in red sweater, sobbing.)

The NFL caused quite a little stir by moving the Bears-Packers game to 7:00 on New Years Eve, using the power of the flex schedule to thwart many New Years plans for my fellow Chicagoans. My plans had included watching the game while getting drunk on the couch by myself, leading to a icy stare from my wife which says 'Happy New Year Asshole' better than any greeting card ever could. Fortunately, this switch in times does not affect my plans.

Kurt Warner takes to the field once again, riding a white steed (no, not Brenda) into San Diego to lead the Arizona Football Cardinals to what will surely be a disappointing and most likely, embarrassing loss. But there is hope. Kurt has turned to using a pair of 'gloves' when he plays to reduce his fumblitis. These gloves will surely make him more mobile and increase his escapability tenfold. They are also good for seducing ladies and hitting those tough inside pitches. Fearless prediction: Cardinals 23 Chargers 17. Kurt Warner 1 The Devil 0. Stem Cell Research in Missouri 1 Kurt Warner 0.

The Iowa Hawkeyes take on the Texas Longhorns in the vaunted Alamo Bowl. The Alamo Bowl. Iowa's default bowl for the years in which they suck. Texas, fresh off a national championship, gets stuck with a crummy 6 win team, and doesn't even get to travel. Drew Tate will try in vain to work some Big Texas Magic only to find out that his other players all have the and heart of a 'Elf'-era Jon Favreau (look at how fat he is. That is just unhealthy. And the irony is that he's playing a doctor. Pashaw!), not the 'Rudy'-era one. Fearless prediction: Texas 31 Iowa 13. Ouch. Hayden Fry's mustache 1 Matthew McConaughey's stubby arms 0.

How bout them Northern Iowa Panthers! The alma mater is looking tough in basketball again this year. Certainly the best team in Iowa, which is like being the hottest chick at truck stop diner at 2AM. You just don't know what you're getting. Is it even a woman? But I'm thinking we can at least advance past the first round in the tourney this year, much to the chagrin of Billy Packer.

Rants: Not having a long Christmas break like in college, lamenting, everyone sending/giving/bringing 'sweets' to work for the holidays (how bout a meat and cheese tray? Some Omaha Steaks? Fuck sugar cookies.), guys that do somersaults into a bar to announce their entrance, trying to keep up with drinkers who dwarf your tolerance, trying to pick a fight and then ending it in a warm embrace, Brett Favre man crushes, 'unrated versions' of DVDs.

Raves: Gift Cards, overeating/drinking, 'Kissology Volume I' (the ONLY Kiss DVD you need), the passage of time, breaded pork tenderloins, America: The Book, post-Christmas sales (and getting it online instead of braving the crowds), Topolobampo, finding a good sushi place that delivers.


Happy New Year. Mel says, 'Drink responsibly, but don't let the Jews spoil all your fun!'

Chaiming In

• Here I humbly sit, letting the hate wash over me. I guess I pissed off a few good ole' boys with my Peyton Manning rant. I like the one person who said I wasn't in the "cool click" (grammar police!) in school and am jealous because I'm not as talented as Peyton Manning. Touche sweet lover! Point taken, albeit with a shiteating grin. I mean, saying I'm 'jealous' because I'm not as talented as Peyton Manning. C'mon now. Yes, to the shock of only my mother, I am pretty much untalented at everything save for bocce ball and carefully crafted love letters. I don't think any armchair QB sitting in front of a computer is as talented as ANY position player in ANY sport, including Rick Mirer. To think that I would be jealous of any sports figure is absurd. It may be feasible if I were a die hard fan of some AFC rival with a shitty QB. For instance, if I were a Titans fan in the short lived Neil O'Donnel beard era, then yes, I may have harbored some resentment. But holding no diehard allegiances allows me to hate Peyton Manning with a clear conscience. It's like when Yankee fans say that everybody that hates the Yankees because they are jealous. That theory may have passed muster in the late 90's, but guess what? The Yankees haven't won poop in years and I still hate them. But yes, I am in fact jealous of Peyton Manning and his countless first round playoff exits. You shut your mouth Eli. You're next.

• First Jerry Rice, now Emmitt Smith reaching the finals on 'Dancing With the Stars'. Are guys actually watching this show and voting? Inconceivable!
• The Cubs went out and signed Mark DeRosa to be their everyday second baseman. While I like this signing on paper, I would really like to see the position be decided in Spring Training so that Ryan Theriot gets a fair shot. He was one of our lone bright spots during the second half last year and it's a shame that a career utilityman cashing in on his one big year automatically wins the job without a fight. I hope DeRosa can prove me wrong, but I'm mildly disappointed. Just keep telling yourself, 'better than Neifi, better than Neifi'. I"m hoping for a poor man's Michael Young and not a poor man's Mark Belhorn.
• The quote of the day comes from our friend 'karan' who reports that I am 'prolly a low life on welfare.' (Long pause) Much as I want to, I just can't argue with that.

"My brother is a douchebag!"

Chaiming In

"It tastes so good when it hits your lips..."

• The World Series. Could that have been more anticlimactic? I imagine watching that had to be comparable to having a really sucky kid that plays in Little League and you have to go to all of his games, but he never plays. And you, as a neglectful father, can barely remember your son's name, much less the rules and regulations of baseball. So you sit there, your eyes glazed over, your breath reeking of whiskey sours, waiting for either the game or your life to end. It's a coinflip as to which will occur first. I say 'imagine' as I don't have any children of my own. Technically I've had three kids, but sacrificed them all to various gods or lost them at the mall. Wow, I may have just offended myself. In short, the World Series sucked.
• Let's not crown the Bulls NBA champs yet, dear prognosticators. After embarrassing the Cocaine Cowboys on Opening Night, they looked as ugly as the Comcast Sports Net studio Wednesday night, getting shellacked by the Orlando Magic. I think Dennis Scott hit like 5 treys or something.
• A good month for diehard KISS fans out there, all 13 of us. We have the first solo album from the Starchild in 28 years! It's predictable fare, full of inspirational hoo haa slathered with a thick layer of processed cheese, sandwiched between unironic lyrics about 'living to win' and love gone bad, all with a glossy finish. That said, I love it. Not reinventing the wheel by any means (I'd love to see Rick Rubin and Butch Walker get ahold of him), but the sugary, cavity causing hooks and soaring choruses are enough to give me a brief sugar high and forget the car crash known as Gene Simmons 'Asshole'. Then we've got the season finale of 'Family Jewels'. Did Gene knock up Shannon again? Is Gene getting a facelift? (Can the doctors operate on his ego while they're at it?) While this show is by no means 'must see tv', it is oddly intriguing. More than anything, I sit there wondering, 'how did his kids get to be so perfect?' If all kids were that grounded, I would reconsider my stance on mandatory boarding school and pushups for all children between ages 10-18. But the biggest early Christmas present comes in the form of KISSOLOGY Volume I: 1974-1977, containing 4 full concerts from their early years (when Peter Criss didn't have prosthetic arms) as well as a bunch of early TV footage never seen before. I haven't been this excited to pad Gene Simmon's wallet since the KISS coffin!
• Here at the Saloon, we try to keep politics separate, though I will say you should vote in the upcoming elections. Far be it from me to tell you how you should vote, but let's just say the four writers at the Saloon could write a doozy of a War Criminal column about our current President.
• I will though tell you how to spend your moviegoing dollars. Go see Borat, The Prestige, The Departed, and yes, even The Dixie Chicks movie, Shut Up and Sing (this coming from a person who cannot legitimately name one of their songs and considers country music to be the root of all evil). Avoid Man of the Year and Running With Scissors at all costs. Judging from the crowd at The Prestige, backed up by the facts garnered at a earlier screening of The Illusionist, I can safely conclude this: Old people love magic. Fucking love that shit. Give them a good old fashioned rabbit out of a hat over fancy CGI anyday. Pull a quarter from behind their ears and watch them squeal.
• Da Bears! Yes they are good. Better than good. Perhaps we are witnessing greatness. But can we stop with the 85' Bears comparisons? Jesus already. I suppose it is inevitable, but it seems like anytime the Bears look like they might make the playoffs, people start dusting off old Super Bowl Shuffle footage. Please make it stop. The next time the Cubs are good, I would like to see everyone start making comparisons to the classic 1908 squad.
• You know what I need to do? Shoot baskets. It's been a good year or more since I shot the ole' b-ball into the peach basket. Let me tell you this. It ain't pretty. Which is honestly surprising, because, full disclosure, I'm a helluva athlete.
• Dusty Baker is interviewing with the Padres. As Brian Fellows would say, "That's CRAZY!"
• Daisuke Matsuzaka, the Japanese ace pitcher, is on the open market. He throws a mysterious "gyroball". I fucking love gyros! The Cubs need to sign this guy. Seriously. Steve Stone: "You've got him down 0-2 here, you gotta be looking gyroball all the way."
• Rants: Fast Food, aging
• Raves: Fall, Thunder Matt's Saloon

Chaiming In

• Is it possible to overuse the f-word? As this article proves, no. No, there isn't.
• I get a lot of fan mail asking me, "Chaim, when are we going to get another Realm of Red? Are you just full empty promises and unrealized potential?" The answer to those questions is 'soon' and 'yes'. Brilliance takes time, like a nice pot of beef stew.
• It has been said before but let me reiterate. It is never a good idea, even while in Jamaica, to get your hair braided into 'dreads' if you are white. Are you listening Axl?
• Wait, are the Cubs still playing? Shit.
• To be successful next year, the Cubs don't need a new manager. They don't need new personnel. Nope. What they need? A good old fashioned uniform change. I'm thinking maybe something modern and edgy. Maybe all black. Very sleek and classy. And in the summer time when it gets hot, who's to say you can't wear shorts? I think this would give their legs more room to breathe and the players would all run faster.
• I do give a shit about the NFL, although I follow one man into the promised land (heaven, duh) and he goes by the name of Kurt Warner. The Redbirds will soar! (until week 7 when he is unceremoniously dumped in favor of that tall surfer guy). Kurt has always been the one guy to help identify my alma mater, Northern Iowa. If talking with a guy and I mention I mention that I went to Northern Iowa and I get a quizzical look I always follow it up with 'Kurt Warner went there'. As if that legitimizes it. Works better than saying 'Mike Furrey went there'. Kurt must really be trying to reshape his image as in a recent Sporting News feature he talks casually about going out for beers with Edge and him and Fitz making a bet about who could get home first after practice and stick it to their wife. And Kurt won! Guess that would explain his 7 kids. Before the obligatory Brenda joke, can I just say what's up with her long blonde hair now? Big improvement.
• Lots of Iowa Hawkeye fans live in Chicago. Moreso than Illinois fans even. But for the record, many of these said Hawkeye fans are grade A douchebags, as the majority of them are Nickelback listening frat guys and Trixies who couldn't even tell you who Iowa was playing, much less the score. I cringe when I walk into an 'Iowa' bar (they're all either that, Notre Dame or Michigan until basketball season when the Illini fans come out of the closet)
• Raves: Simply Limeade, Red Stripe, old-school KISS, Ryan Theriot, lobster, naps, Forest Whitaker, the return of fall TV (Lost and The Office especially), Esquire, Negril, Countdown with Keith Olbermann, Half Nelson and The Last King of Scotland (movies), coconut chicken, the Rockstar house band, a good solid pen, the Pirates late season surge, soft core porn, live music.
• Rants: Seeing fucking Peyton Manning in every fucking commercial during every fucking NFL game (Man I hate the one with him and the fake mustache!), 'Manning Bowl' or 'Brother vs. Brother' or whatever the hell they were calling that stupid thing (Backwoods Inbred Brother Fucking Bowl?), Lukas Rossi, Ronny Cedeno, batting gloves, Yankees fans, spinach, The Black Dahlia, work, the absence of mankind's ability to time travel, any beer referred to as a 'stout', ESPN Zone, speedos, the commercials for TGI Friday's "green bean fries", snuff films.