Family Night and the Spelling Bee II

So the other night, the family and I sat down to continue our yearly tradition of watching the Scripps-Howard National Spelling Bee. To be fair, this is only the second year we've watched, but for us, this event is right up there with Christmas, Easter, and Billy Mays' birthday.

Why, you ask? Because this is by far the largest gathering of mutants and dorks on the planet, and it is a gold mine for making fun of people. We're talkin' motherlode.

You see, to put it in medical terms, my family and I are what has been diagnosed as "insecure assholes", and we just aren't happy unless we are making sport of others to feel better about ourselves.

I believe it's healthy that we at least recognize and embrace this character flaw.

Anyway, last year I kept a running diary of the event, and it went over pretty well with other dickheads like myself. So let's try it again, shall we? Once again, we have your little pal, his wife Annie, and the two oldest boys, Mike-14, and Sam-13. So grab your Funk and Wagnalls, and button the top button on your shirt- it's party time! Here we go...

7:00- Jesus Tap Dancin' Christ, does Tom Bergeron have to host everything? Oh, I'm sure he'll just keep me a chucklin' all night with his folksy humor. What a cumspot that guy is...

Oh well, buckle up kids- it's time to meet the 11 finalists! Now, just like last year, I'm going to give most of them nicknames, and you'll see why in a moment. Some of the names are a little excessive on the number of letters, and to be honest, I type like old people screw.

Gee, come to think of it, I screw like old people screw. I just figured out what people mean when they use that expression. Damn, that's a little depressing. We'd better just move on...

There are three finalists that were here last year. They are:

Kyle Mou- Last year, he was 12, and looked like he was seven. This year, he's 13, and looks like he's seven. Tiny little fella- can't weigh more than 50 pounds. Has a perfectly round head, and his dad still looks like the Donger from "16 Candles". NO MORE YANKIE MY WANKIE! THE DONGER NEED FOOD!

Kavya Shivashankar- See what I mean about typing all the letters? It gets worse. Kavya is from Kansas, her dad's name is Merle, and her little sister is still a dead ringer for Dora the Explorer. She's very sweet, and as close to normal as you can get in this group. This makes her a longshot for success.

(Quick note if I could, please. There is no fuckin' way her dad's real name is Merle. It's like when you call one of those help lines, and some dude answers with a thick Indian accent, and says, "This is Jimmy, may I help you?" Bullshit- he's not Jimmy, his name is dizxsfdhgsgfhysojsan. I'm just saying...)

Sidharth Chand- Sidharth was the runnerup last year. At that time, he looked like Pedro from "Napolean Dynamite". This year, his mustache is thicker, and he's wearing glasses and a rumpled suit. He looks like a little Jewish old man. We'll call him "Ira the Jew". He has to be the favorite tonight.

And here are the eight finalists that are here for the first time:

Tussah Heera- Age 13, from Las Vegas. Scared shitless- you can see it in her eyes. I'll be shocked if she gets very far. Like almost all the kids, she's homeschooled, which means she'll spend her life living alone with 17 cats, because she won't be able to interact with human beings. She'll kick ass when Jeopardy comes on, but only the cats will know. I'll take Old Maids for $200, Alex...

Aishwarya Pastapur- Her family may not be from around here. Every year, there is some poor Indian girl that has one giant eyebrow, and a distinctive mustache. This year, it's Aishwarya. Like my dad always said, "If your girlfriend can grow a better mustache than you, you might want to check under the hood". Her role model is Amelia Earhart. I have so many jokes my head is about to explode. We'll just call her "Wolf Girl". Yikes...

Neetu Chandak- Neetu's another tiny little bugger, has braces, and speaks with a distinctive lisp. My boys latch onto this straightaway, and say she sounds just like Stan Marsh's sister Shelly on "South Park". Mike does a terrific Shelly impression- God, I hope she stays in a long time; Mike's going to bust me up if she does. Of course, we'll call her "Shelly Marsh".

(Unless you watch South Park, you're probably not going to be that amused by this. But if you don't watch South Park, there's something wrong with you, and you probably shouldn't be reading my blog. So there.)

Anamika Veeramani- She's from Cleveland, and her eyes are way, way too far apart. She really looks familiar, though. We try for awhile, but can't quite put our finger on who she looks like. Then it finally dawns on me.

From now on, she'll be "E.T."

Kennyi Aouad- Is it legal to have a last name that starts with four vowels? Anywho, Kennyi has a Jamaican accent, and looks like a miniature Bill Cosby (ladies and gentlemen, please start your Bill Cosby impressions!). He is incredibly outgoing, and mugs for the camera a lot. We determine that he hit the bong before the telecast. He's "Jamaican Cosby".

Serena Skye-Laine Lobsinger- You gotta be shittin' me. She's 13, so I have to believe that she's not married. Why is her goddamn name so long? She's from West Palm Beach, Florida, and has to be the whitest girl ever from that state. She's a big girl, and has a mop of bleach-blonde hair that looks just like Jon Bon Jovi from 1983. She'll be "Plus Sized Bon Jovi".

Tim Ruiter- Sound the alarm! We have a Category 5 dork alert here, kids. Tim is 13, and looks like the love child of Milhouse from "The Simpsons", and Big Bird. He hikes his pants up all the way to his nipples, and has a hunch when he walks. His profile says "he's devoted a lot of time to Star Trek, Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings". Wow, what a fuckin' shocker that is. If this kid ever gets laid, I'll eat my goalie cup. He'll be "Frodo".

Ramya Auroprem- Holy Mother of God. Ramya's face droops to one side, her mouth hangs open, and she has the biggest teeth I have ever seen. John Elway would say, "Goddamn, those are big teeth". Even Hillary Swank would say, "Goddamn, those are big teeth". The boys and I work on a nickname for what seems like an eternity, and after heavy negotiations, we settle on "Seabisquit". I was lobbying for "Barbaro", just out of respect to a great champion, but I got overruled.

(Another quick note: I believe the phrase you're looking for is, "Wow-you're a bunch of dicks". Yeah, I know. But we're sure laughing our asses off over here. Did you laugh with your kids tonight? Didn't think so. Bite me.)

7:15- So we finally got through all the preliminary crap, and we're spelling words in the first round. Just like last year, the stage is set up so that all the spellers are on one side, and all the parents and family are sitting on the other. I'll tell you what, kids- this is one motley crew of parents. The old apples sure didn't fall far from the trees in this crowd.

Almost everyone makes it through the round, except poor little scared shitless Tussah Heera. She spoke like she was trying to pass a kidney stone, and couldn't make it through "herniorraphy". She stumbles to the other side of the stage, and collapses in tears into the arms of her father, who is wearing one of those funny nose and glasses disguises.

Holy shit- those aren't the funny nose and glasses. Dude...

7:25- Before the next round starts, they have the attractive Erin Andrews from ESPN backstage interviewing Jamaican Cosby. Right in the middle of the interview, he puts on glasses and stares directly at her boobs. Swear to God. She notices, cuts the talk short and sends it quickly back to Tom Bergeron. I do my best Cosby (which sucks, by the way) and say, "Ya see Erin, your breasts look just like... the Jello Pudding Pops". The boys crack up. The wife...not so much.

7:30- Right before Plus Sized Bon Jovi's turn, they do a little feature on her. Her hobby, when she's not spelling, is making pillows? When asked to describe herself in one word, she says "effervescent". Sam says, "Dad, does effervescent mean fat?"

I have to pause the DVR for several minutes because I'm laughing so hard, I'm crying like a little girl. This happens all the time, and annoys the shit out of Annie. It takes about 90 minutes to watch one episode of "Family Guy". I can't help it-I'm an easy laugher.

Anyway, of course ABC put the Kiss of Death on P.S. Bon Jovi, and she misses the word "conchyliated" right after the feature. So I guess you could say that she was shot through the heart, and ABC was to blame. You know what? They give TV....a BAD NAME!

(Sorry- it was right there...I had to.)

The round continues, and Shelly Marsh bombs out on "derriengue". I think it was because she lisped so badly when she said "Are there any other pronunciations?" that some drool hit the microphone and electricity arced straight to her braces, leaving her stunned for a minute. As she leaves the stage, Mike lisps "Go suck it, turds", and makes me stop the DVR again.

Goddamn, this is fun so far...

Next, in the most shocking development of the night, the heavy favorite, Ira the Jew, misses "apodyterium". He then shuffles over and sits between his parents, and holds his head in his hands. Mike says "oy- what a woid", and I mention that this is worst thing that's happened to his family since his great grandparents vacationed at Auschwitz during World War II. The Holocaust joke puts me in the early lead for Most Inappropriate Comment of the Evening. I've got my fingers crossed...

7:45- We're back for round three, and we're down to seven players. Erin Andrews interviews Plus Sized Bon Jovi, and when they're side by side, it looks like one of those before and after pictures. "In just 12 weeks you can go from this....to this!"

Seabisquit comes up for her word, and Sam says, "Hey, why the long face?" DVR pause again- that one just killed me. She spells "axolotl" correctly, sits down, and straps the feedbag back on.

There's been something wrong with little Kyle Mou all night. He spells his words quickly, and then sits right down without a trace of a smile. They go to his short feature, and he says that he doesn't really like spelling- he thinks it's boring. This explains a lot- I'll bet The Donger slaps him around at home. YOU WANT TO QUIT? NO WAY, JOSE!

Frodo comes up, and his pants are hiked up so high, he has to unzip his fly so he can speak into the microphone. He spells "byssinosis", and they get a shot of his parents on the other side of the stage. His dad has a giant beard, and looks just like Yukon Cornelius in "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer". This works out great, because his mom closely resembles the "Abominable Snowman" from the same show. This is not a small woman.

E.T. makes it through another round, correctly spelling "iliopsous". Her grandmother claps like she's on The Price Is Right. Settle the hell down, grandma...

8:00- Everyone made it through round three, so we're still at seven. Little Kyle Mou spells his word correctly, then goes back to his chair, sits down, and stares straight ahead without any emotion. He looks like he can't wait for this to be over. I know this look- my wife gets the same expression when we're making love.

Wolf Girl advances, but she's a little too intense. She yells into the microphone when she's asking for information, like "CAN YOU USE IT IN A SENTENCE!". I'll bet security guards are loading their guns with silver bullets, just in case she gets out of hand.

Jamaican Cosby gets the word "palatschinken" (a stuffed pancake, just in case you wanted to amaze your friends when you go to IHOP) , and stares at the judge like he just shit in his hat. He misses badly, and shuffles off the stage to see if he can share a doobie with Erin Andrews. I know he's going to try and "hit that" before the night's over.

Damn, there goes E.T.- she misses the word "fackeltanz". Mike says, "Ouch...". Her heartlight goes out, and she makes her way to the other side of the stage. It's too bad- with the prize money, she could have gotten surgery to bring her eyes closer to her nose, and away from her ears. What a bummer...

Dammit, down goes Seabisquit! She tanks the word "amarevole", and her dad immediately takes her out behind the barn and puts her down. I'll bet if she had won, they would have taken her to a stud farm, but instead, she'll be a bag of Dog Chow by next week. It's just tragic.

8:30- Down to four. Oops, I lied...now it's three. Kyle Mou just missed "schizaffin" (pronounced shiz-a fin), looks relieved that it's over, and then hesitantly walks to the other side of the stage, where The Donger is having a "shiz-a-fit". I'll bet a paycheck that Kyle gets beaten with a dictionary when they get back to the hotel room tonight. Nice parenting, Donger...

So we have our final three, and we immediately go to the Championship Round. They are:

Kavya- she's really flown under the radar tonight. Just pleasantly spells her words with a smile on her face, and waits for her next turn. We can't find any reason to crack on her. That pisses us off- we need to buckle down and work harder.

Wolf Girl- The eyebrows and mustache have filled out even more as the night has gone on. I'll tell you what- if she ever wants to wax that shit, the fuckin' bees are going to have to work overtime.

Frodo- He needs to lose. Instead of asking questions politely to the judges, he arrogantly says stuff like "What does that word mean?", and "Part of Speech". All the other kids say "please", but not our Frodo. I'll bet that little fucker has had more Melvins and Swirlies at school than you can count.

8:40- All three are doing great- they've coasted through the first six words. The camera pans over to Frodo's parents, and his mom is staring at Kyle Mou. It's been a few hours since she's eaten- I'll bet it's like the cartoons, and Kyle turns into a ham when she stares at him. Did I mention that she's kind of a big girl?

8:45- We have our first casualty of the final round. It's Wolf Girl- she can't negotiate "menhir". She's devastated, and can't be consoled by Wolf Parents. As a consolation prize, she is awarded a Weedeater so she can get to work on those eyebrows. Stat.

8:50- Now it's Kavya and Frodo, and we're all pulling for Kavya. We're tired of Frodo's dismissive bullshit attitude, and Kavya has remained pleasant all night.

When Frodo comes up for his word, we all start yelling "Noonan!", like when Denunzio is trying to make Danny Noonan miss his big putt in "Caddyshack" (again, if you haven't seen Caddyshack, I have no use for you).

It works! Frodo misses "maecenus" (pronounced my-seen-us), and Mike says "The sentence should have been, 'Hey! Why don't you suck maecenus!' " That was close to being over the line, but it was funnier than shit. There aren't any little kids in the room... fuck it, I'll go ahead and let him slide this time.

Okay, all Kavya has to do is spell one word, and she's the champion. That word is:

Laodicean

Kavya's dad Merle (or Shamalamadingdong, or whatever the fuck his real name is) gets a big old smile on his face. Kavya's had this word before. She nails it quickly, and she is our 2009 champion!

Back to the Klingon chat room, Frodo! You arrogant little pecker...

Kavya is quickly presented the Queen of the Dinks trophy by a guy named Richard Boehne. We can't help but wonder if his nickname growing up was "dickbone". Probably not...


Anyway, that's it for another year. Thanks for playing along once again. I think the next time we'll do something like this will be the Miss Universe pageant in August. See you then...

Family Night and the Beauty Pageant

So the other night we gathered the family around the magic box to share in what has become a fun tradition. It was the 2009 Miss USA Beauty Pageant!

Except for the national spelling bee finals, pageants are the best events for making fun of people, and if you're a regular reader, you know that the Sterner family never misses an opportunity to make fun of people. So here we are, your little pal, my wife Annie, and my two oldest boys Mike and Sam, ready to unleash a total shitstorm of wisecracks for the next two hours. Annie has intentionally given the two youngest kids something else to do, because she knows this crowd.

Yeah, we could probably be spending our family time doing something more constructive and educational than cracking beauty queens. We could maybe take a nice bike ride...

Fuck it- this is a lot more fun.

This year, mainly because we're between hockey seasons and I've been hurting for something to write about, I decided to keep a running diary of the big event. So buckle up, and paste on that big fake pageant smile. Here goes nothin'...

6:00- Sweet! Donald Trump's putting on the pageant from Las Vegas this year. I wonder if he might possibly work in a plug for his new casino out there. I'll tell you what, Trump might be the world's biggest boner, but he sure knows how to run a pageant. Forget about scholarships and talent, he knows why America watches this shit. Bring on the hot girls in skimpy outfits...

Speaking of which, here comes the Parade of States, otherwise known as the last time you'll see Miss Wyoming. Pretty slim pickin's in the old Cowboy State. Last year Miss Wyoming was a sheep. Not bad looking, though. I'd do her...

All the girls are wearing the same thing- a white halter top and a tiny little white skirt. You the man, Donald. This is our first chance to meet the contestants, and weed out the ones that have absolutely no chance. Also, we all try to pick out the winner, and call our shot right from the start.

Some of the girls in the "No F-in Way" Group:

Miss Delaware- looks like Mr. Ed
Miss Idaho- they say she's 27; looks like 47
Miss Ohio- talks like Patty and Selma from The Simpsons; must be a heavy smoker
Miss Illinois- her eyes sit too low, like Mena Suvari; looks like she has a "five head" (that's bigger than a forehead- try to keep up)


See what I mean? You could land a plane on Mena's forehead

Miss Montana- usually just a little higher on the food chain than Miss Wyoming. Not this year...
Miss South Dakota- has Mount Rushmore sized boobs; other than that, nuh-uh...
Miss Wyoming- she's from my home town of Casper. If she was still in Casper, she'd be okay. In this crowd- not even close.
Miss New Mexico- holy jumpin' smokes! We rolled back the DVR three time to make sure she wasn't a dude. She's African-American, has a protruding orbital ridge and what appears to be fangs. Mike called her "Count Blacula". (Mike wins the silver medal for the Most Inappropriate Comment of the Evening)

Now we all pick our winner. This is really tough, because you only see the girls for a couple of seconds. But some just jump right out at you.

Sam takes West Virginia, Mike has Utah, Annie goes for Miss Texas, and I grab North Carolina. We'll see what happens.

6:10- The Parade of States finally ends, and we go live to the Planet Hollywood Theater, where the girls are all on stage for the opening dance number. Miss Wisconsin is completely lost- there are always a few girls that have no rhythm. We play that back a few times, taking a moment to point and laugh.

Our host for the evening? Aw, fuck- it's Billy Bush. He must have pictures of Trump banging a farm animal, because there's no other reason why he should get this gig. And co-hosting is Nadine Valasquez from My Name is Earl. Nobody in the room knows who she is, but she's currently grinding her crotch on Billy Bush to the beat of "That's Not My Name" by the Ting-Tings. I'll bet this is as close as Billy has ever gotten to female genitalia.

What a queef that guy is.

6:15- After a few minutes of banter and bullshit, they go straight to cutting the 51 contestants down to 15. All four of our girls that we picked to win are in this group. The only real surprise is that Miss Idaho made it. She squints, has huge hair, and looks like Stiffler's Mom from "American Pie".

6:30- All-righty, here comes the swimsuit competition! They'll be parading around to the sound of Kevin Rudolph singing "Let It Rock". I really like this song, except Kevin looks like a fat Damone from "Fast Times at Ridgemont High", and has this stringy black hair hanging down from under his stupid Damone hat. Here he is:



We determine that he has no chance of scoring with any of the girls, except possibly Count Blacula. Oh, and the live version of his song sucks.

After each of the girls do their strutting thing, the judges' scores are flashed on the screen. They range from my pick, Miss North Carolina (9.19- see below), all the way down to Stiffler's Mom (7.80- should have been lower).



Miss South Carolina, the only girl with that sassy, short blonde hairdo, walks like she's holding in a fart. We decide that she'll be Fart Girl for the rest of the pageant.

6:50- I guess the judges have seen everything they need to see, and as you can tell from the bikinis, everything they don't need to see. Again, bless your heart, Donald Trump. They're ready to cut the group down from 15 to 10.

I haven't seen either one of my teenage boys for the last 10 minutes since the swimsuit contest ended. Hmmm...

No real surprises here, except Fart Girl got through. I thought it would be the end of the line for her, and then she could excuse herself, go outside, and let 'er rip.

(While we're on the subject- is it me, or does everyone find it difficult to imagine a great looking girl cheesin' a big old fart? I know they do just like everyone else, but I just won't allow myself to consider that possibility. Like, does Jessica Biel run up to Timberlake and say, "Hey, Justin, pull my finger!"? No way, right? These are the things that go through my mind on a regular basis. And yes, I do realize I'm a twisted little fucker. Let's just move on...)

By the way, Stiffler's Mom is out of here. She did pretty well considering we both were born in 1958. 27 years old, my ass...

7:00- Now that they're down to 10, we're getting to know the contestants in a little more detail. All 10 are between 5'7" and 5"10", and they're pretty well divided between blondes and brunettes. On their profiles, they showed some of their favorite hobbies, which is always good for a joke or two. For example:

Miss Arkansas- her name is Chanley Pointer (Chanley?), and her hobbies are "playing the fiddle, and armadillo watching". Now if she fiddled with armadillos, then we'd really have something interesting to watch.

Miss Tennesee- Kristen Motil loves baking cupcakes. Wow, way to challenge yourself, Kristen. Next, she'll really push the envelope and hard-boil an egg. See, this is why assholes like me make fun of pageant contestants. Plus Kristen looks like Denise Richards, complete with the bitchy look on her face. She needs to lose.

Miss Utah- Laura Chukanov (pronounced chuck-un-off) enjoys belly dancing. You know, my mom caught me Chukanov one time, and told me I'd go blind if I didn't stop. She was wrong- I have 20/300 vision. Totally worth it.

Miss South Carolina (Fart Girl)- Stephanie Smith likes to teach Sunday school, and walk like she's smuggling six kilos of cocaine up her ass. Okay, I made that last part up, but she really needs to unclench.


See, she's clenching right now

7:15- Nadine Velasquez is getting on my nerves. She keeps twitching like Michael J. Fox on a bad day, and she's trying to be funny, and not pulling it off. I'm guessing she performed a "Rusty Trombone" on Donald Trump to get this job tonight (Google Rusty Trombone if you don't understand). It makes me wish that Marie Osmond were still alive so she could have done this instead.

7:20- More Las Vegas promotional bullshit (way too much of that), and we're on to the evening gown competition. And while they're walking out and showing off the goodies, it's The Veronicas singing "Untouched". I love that song, and just let out a squeal like a 14 year old girl.

My boy Sam told me that I was way too excited about a song for middle school girls, and he's never been more disappointed to be my son. Now that hurts- it's a song for high school girls, and he knows it. He's now my least favorite child, replacing my daughter, who's held the title for a long, long time.

I've never seen The Veronicas before, and they look quite a little bit like, well, crack whores. Plus they're lip-synching the song, which always sucks. Shit, Kevin Rudolph was awful, but at least he gave it a try live.


Yikes...

Anyway, my girl from North Carolina is stunning again, and wins with a 9.47. Fart Girl is all the way down at 8.33, because by now she's walking so funny, the judges aren't even looking at the dress anymore. Just blow the butt bugle already, Stephanie. We'll all feel better...

Chanley from Arkansas is wearing a gown that's a two-piece, with a red halter top. She must have thought it was the Lady of the Evening Gown competition. Bad idea. She gets an 8.41, and my TV just made a sound like when Pac Man gets eaten by one of the ghosts. She's done.

7:40- Before we get down to the five finalists, they need to award Miss Congeniality, otherwise known as "51st Place".

And the winner is: Holy shit- it's Miss Wyoming!

She must not have been expecting to be onstage any more tonight. She comes back holding a bottle of vodka and a five gallon bucket of Haagen-Dazs. She snatches her trophy, gives Billy Bush the finger, and walks off chugging the vodka like Gatorade.

7:45- Okay kids, here's the top five. Of course, Miss North Carolina gets in, and is joined by Miss Arizona, Alicia Monique Blanco. Nadine Velasquez has a small Hispanic orgasm when she announces that name- it's pretty obvious who she's rooting for.

(One quick note. I just looked it up, and the Spanish word for orgasm is...orgasmo. I thought it would be something a lot more colorful, like "explodo magnifico". Oh, well...)

Next, it's Miss California, whom I haven't mentioned yet, but she's a whole lot of good looking. Then Miss Kentucky, who's a real sleeper pick, because she has that "girl next door" quality about her. And finally, Chukanov from Utah, whom Mike picked right from the start.

I think it's North Carolina's to lose, but they still have to answer that nasty final question. Believe it or not, some of these girls have a little problem when they have to think on their feet.

No, it's true...

7:50- Here come the questions. North Carolina gets one about the bailout, and says all that money should go towards education. Good, safe answer- she has been coached well.

Next, Miss Arizona is asked about health care, and goes into some bullshit about her integrity. She never came close to answering the question, but Nadine still gushes about how terrific it was.

Nadine Velasquez cannot get the fuck off my TV screen soon enough.

Chukanov for some reason is asked about elections in Afghanistan, and actually does pretty well. She may have been talking about the Afghan dogs instead of the people, but still...

Miss California comes up, and the question is asked by the always annoying and exceptionally gay blogger Perez Hilton. My kids ask Annie who Perez Hilton is, and she says that he "blogs like Dad does, only he knows how to write". Now, was that necessary?

Without even thinking, I say, "He may be able to write better, but at least I won't wake up tomorrow morning with a butthole the size of the Eisenhower Tunnel". Annie immediately yells, "Allen!", and I then realize that I still have two teenage sons in the room. I look over, and both of them are literally rolling on the floor laughing, which doesn't help my cause one little bit.

Al, meet the doghouse. Doghouse, Al. You'll be spending some time together.

If nothing else, I got the gold medal for the Most Inappropriate Comment of the Evening. I've missed out the past few family nights, and it was time for that baby to come home. Doghouse, schmoghouse...I regret nothing.

Anywho, Perez of course asks a question about gay marriage, and Miss California has the audacity to say that she thinks marriage should be between a man and a woman. Wow, what a bitch. Well, Perez gets a look on his face like he just smelled Miss South Carolina's long-overdue fart, and you can actually hear his ass tighten up. And for him, that has to be a bunch of tightening.

I tell Annie, "She's dead". Annie doesn't answer- she's still unhappy about that butthole joke.

Finally, the smoke clears, and Miss Kentucky gives a great answer about domestic violence. She sounds like Holly Hunter. Which for me, is a big plus.


Mmmm...Holly Hunter...

7:55- So we're back from the commercial, and they get the envelope to announce the winners. Drumroll, please:

4th Runnerup- Miss Kentucky. I think she got screwed- she was easily in the top three.

3rd Runnerup- Miss Utah. Mike's pissed- he thought she was going to win. I think it's about right.

2nd Runnerup- Miss Arizona. Nadine is visibly pissed when she reads the name. Alicia's answer to the last question killed her. Jesus, Nadine is a twitching moron.

Now we have Miss California, whom I can't believe is still here after the controversial answer, and North Carolina. While Billy is droning on about what happens with the runnerup if the winner can't fulfill her duties or has a major cocaine problem like that girl from two years ago, the two finalists are holding hands, and staring into each other's eyes.

It's actually pretty hot.

Annie and I notice that while they're holding hands, Miss North Carolina's hands are resting on Miss California's boobs. I'll bet that half the males watching never hear who wins, because they had to leave the room to go "take a shower".

Finally, Billy reads the winner, and it's...Miss North Carolina! For the second time since Annie and I have been watching pageants (and that's around 15 years), I picked her out of the parade of 51 states. So I have bragging rights until Miss Universe, which is sometime in July, I think.

So thanks for spending the evening with my demented little family. The real fun is next month, when the National Spelling Bee is on- otherwise known as the Night of a Thousand Dorks. That there is a good family night. Now if you'll all excuse me, I have to go kick the dog off the couch. Annie just informed me that I'm going to be sleeping there and Chukanov for the foreseeable future.

Dawg Nation Suffers Shocking Death

The Bible, or possibly Hannah Montana says, "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away". This has never been more true than the last couple of weeks in Dawg Nation.

On April 6th, Dawgs II goalie Brian Harvey welcomed his first child into the world, a stunning little girl named Emily. Since then, however, DNA tests have finally revealed the true father of the beautiful young lady.


Everyone knew there was something fishy. She's way too cute to belong to a goalie.

Well, the other shoe dropped last weekend, as Dawgs captain and former anal warrior Marty Richardson lost his favorite girl in the world. No, not his wife-for-tax-purposes-only Cindy, but his beloved 1986 Ford Bronco II, AKA the Dawgmobile.

Richardson claims that during last week's massive storm, a tree branch that was weighed down with wet snow crashed down on top of the Dawgmobile, collapsing the roof and shattering the surrounding windows.

But further investigation showed that Richardson's story wasn't quite true. It turns out that Richardson destroyed the roof himself, while attempting to make sweet, acrobatic love with Dawgs II forward Nick Cortese.


"Nick, get down here and help me get the glass out of my colon, goddammit!"

Caught red-handed, Richardson tearfully explained why he made up the story about the snow. "It was kind of a grey area in my car insurance policy. I couldn't find anything about damage to my vehicle while bangin' dudes. I'm not sure, but they may have disallowed the claim. Fuckin' State Farm!"

The week continued to get worse for Richardson, as he lost power to his stately mountain castle west of Denver. For five long days, his entire family went without basic necessities, including running water. Marty was able to struggle through, but not being able to shower had an adverse effect on Cindy's general appearance.


Xcel Energy may owe Cindy an apology

Meanwhile, Richardson's brother Nigel, who lives in the same area, also lost power to his house. But instead of suffering like his brother, he dealt with the problem in a slightly different manner. He spent the week in Hawaii rubbing suntan lotion all over his teenage girlfriend Kelly. This only adds to the legend of Nigel Richardson, the current title holder of The Luckiest Son of a Bitch on the face of the Earth.

There are several great mysteries in life:

Is there a God?

Is there life after death?

How does a blind guy know when he's done wiping his ass?

But life's biggest mystery remains:

How does Nigel Richardson get to wake up next to this every day?


Nigel must have a dong like Man O'War

New Dawg Enters World

Dawg Nation got a little bit bigger this week, as Emily Harvey was born on Monday, April 6th. She weighed 6 lbs, 3 ozs, and measured 19" in length, which makes her officially half the height of Dawgs captain Marty Richardson.



Emily is the daughter of Dawgs II goalie Brian Harvey, who recently led his team to the finals of the Pepsi Center shootout. They finished second, but nobody was really to blame.


Well, go ahead and blame these guys

However, there is some controversy to Emily's birth. It seems very illogical that something as beautiful as this:



can possibly be related to this:



Testing is currently underway for positive identification. The only way to know for sure is if Emily has a crappy glove hand.

Welcome GMAC!

It has come to our attention that we have some loyal readers at the GMAC ResCap facility in Minneapolis, Minnesota. In particular is a former hockey player named Brian Delaney, who is an "old and dear friend" of Dawgs captain Marty Richardson

On behalf of SFG and Dawg Nation, please welcome Brian Delaney, and all the crew at GMAC Minneapolis!


Delaney

Superstitious? You Bet Your Ass

People have asked me over the years if I'm like those other goalies that are superstitious when they play. Do I talk to the goalposts, like Patrick Roy used to, or have I worn the same t-shirt for 10 years, like Pelle Lindbergh did when he was with the Flyers?

I always laugh, shake my head, and say, "Gosh, I'm not superstitious when I play hockey. I'm superstitious about my whole fucking life."

Now I'd like to think, except for the fact that I'm a goalie, I'm a relatively intelligent little fella. If I can remember that far back, I was near the top of my class in high school. All that studying by candlelight in my log cabin helped. And I did pretty well in college. I would have done better if there hadn't been an Elton John Captain Fantastic pinball machine in the student center. Missed a bunch of classes to set the scoring record on that sonofabitch. Totally worth it, though.

Today I came within one letter of completing the New York Times crossword puzzle (some asshole Japanese author's name got me). Hell, I'll go head to head playing Jeopardy with anybody. Let's go-bring your ass.

Plus, I've thought of thousands of very creative phrases to call my hockey teammates effeminate. So now I have that going for me, which is nice.

But there is a fairly large chunk of my life that is controlled by superstition. I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but it's true.

In the future, I'll tell you guys some of the ways that it guides my everyday life, but for this time, let's just stick with hockey, okay?

Hang on a second. I have to knock on wood so I don't fuck this article up. Okay, done. Here we go.

Hockey

Oh yeah, I've got a shitload of hockey quirks.

Let's start with the t-shirt. I didn't match Pelle Lindbergh's ten years, but when my Dawgs team went undefeated for 20 consecutive games, you can bet your Aunt Fanny I wore my "F The French" shirt for every one of those games. It was mostly because of the streak, but partly because I want everyone to know how much I hate the goddamn French. Arrogant, chainsmoking, no bathing, ungrateful, surrendering pricks. Fuck 'em.


I put my gear on the same way every time, but I think that's mostly so I don't forget anything. I can't tell you how many times when I first started playing that I would forget to put my cup on, and then have to take everything back off. That was before I was married. These days, it's kind of a moot point. My wife doesn't let me bring my balls to the games with me, so I don't even bother with a cup anymore.


When we win, I make sure that I wear the same sweatpants and Underarmour shirt for the next game. And yes, I get them washed. I can barely stand being around myself with my goalie stank as it is. Shit, I'm superstitious, but I want to be able to smell my grandkids' hair someday.


Right before the game, when the ref signals down to the goalies to make sure they're ready, I always raise my goal stick and wiggle it to reply. I raised my glove one time instead, and got lit up like that Elton John pinball machine. Gave up five goals in the first period. I couldn't have been that I was a sieve- it had to be that glove thing.


During the big winning streak, I had to play "When You Were Young" by the Killers every week right before I got out of the car at the arena. I don't know about other players, but I always have a song in my head during games, and it's usually the last one I hear before I get out of the car. Lately, I've been playing "Starlight" by Muse that a pal of mine loaned me, but we just got our ass kicked in the league championship, so I guess it's time to move on. Great song, though.

Yeah, I'm 50 and I like the Killers and Muse. And I know what you're thinking. Short guy is having a midlife crisis. Well, I've got your crisis swingin' right down here (you can't tell right now, but I'm pointing at my dick).

One night I wasn't paying attention before I parked, and ended up replaying this over and over in my noggin all game.

That's all they really waaaaaannnntttt!!!
Just fuuunnnnnnnnnnn!!!
When the workin' day is done
Oh, girls, they want to have fuh-unnn.
Oh, girls, just want to have fun!!

It was like in that Star Trek movie, when Ricardo Montalban put that creepy bug in Chekov's ear, and it crawled through his brain and drove him insane. Not a good night for your little buddy.


KHAN!!!!!!!


There was a time when I wouldn't drink water during the game. It seemed like every time I would take a sip, I'd get a goal scored on me. But that one didn't last, because I sweat like a moose during games, and if I don't drink water, my piss is dark orange for the rest of the week. That can't be a good thing, can it?


When I find a piece of tape or some other debris in front of my crease, I always sweep it to the outside of my goalpost, and not inside my net. I don't want anything inside my net. If the tape's in there, I know the puck will follow. No shit-I really think that.

At the start of the game, my goal feels like a virgin to me, all innocent and unpenetrated. It's my duty to keep everything out- keep her flower intact for as long as I can. But lately, by the time the game's over, I've usually let my goal get gang-banged. It makes me feel so...dirty.


After my team scores a goal, I always skate down the goal line to my left, and then turn around and skate down the other goal line. I don't know why. I've just done it for years and years. It reminds me of this chicken at Reptile Gardens in South Dakota. You put a quarter in the slot, and the chicken comes out of a cage, steps on a lever, and this mechanical bat hits a ball. Then the chicken runs around the bases, and then goes back inside the cage, where there's a piece of corn waiting for him. Put another quarter in, and he'll do the same damn thing.

That's me when we score a goal. Skate to the left, skate to the right, come back. Except I can do it without the corn. Because like I said, I'm, you know, intelligent.


And finally here's the one that most goalies have. It hasn't been an issue for me in many, many moons, but if I happen to have a shutout going late in the game, and you happen to mention the word "shutout", I will fucking kill you.

I'm serious. I'm talkin' dead. Not crippled. Not a coma. Dead.

You can say something like, "Let's keep that goose-egg on the board", or "Keep that thing going". But do not utter the "s word".

I can't tell you how many times my kid has had one going, and with a couple of minutes left, some jagoff parent will come up and say, "Hey, looks like Sam is going to get his shutout!". Then like four seconds later-bang:goal.

Those parents are no longer with us. But I didn't kill them. It was my wife. She's worse about the "s word" than I am. Sucks for their kids, being orphaned and all, but rules are rules.

Next time: Why I have a beard, gambling superstitions, and other words you never, ever say out loud.

The Worst Songs Ever

Okay, boys and girls, I've done all the work here for the past year, and it's time that you monkeys got involved. So we're going to do a little audience participation thing, where I'm going to list my least favorite songs of all time. And then it's your turn to add to the list, or tell me I'm full of shit.

I'm talking about the songs that are so goddamn bad, you actually listen to them, just so you can scream at the end about how goddamn bad they are. I do that all the time-I know you do too.

Now these have to be songs from the modern era, like the past 50 years. I say 50 because that gives me a chance to include a Beatles song. Stop gasping- the Beatles are vastly overrated, and Paul McCartney hasn't had a good song since "Maybe I'm Amazed". That was 38 years ago. Paul McCartney sucks. There- I said it.

Plus I'm not going to include country, because I could type until my fingers bleed, and I wouldn't even scratch the surface of bad C&W songs. Holy cow, how can you people listen to that shit? Oh, and no rap, either. That doesn't count as music.

Anyway, without further Freddie Adu, here's a partial list of songs that make me want to hit myself with something heavy until they're over:


All I Wanna Do- Sheryl Crow

Now, I start out badly already with Sheryl because of her politics. If I want some singer's opinion about the world, and how I should vote, I promise I'll ask. Until then, how's about you just play your songs, and shut the fuck up? That goes for everyone in show business, on both sides of the aisle.

But this song makes me crazy. All she does during the whole song is ramble aimlessly, and none of the fucking lyrics rhyme. It's like she just wrote down a shitload of random thoughts, and then put some music in the background. Here's an example:

We are drinking beer at noon on Tuesday
In a bar that faces a giant car wash
The good people of the world are washing their cars
On their lunch break, hosing and scrubbing
As best they can in skirts in suits

What the fuck? Do you see one rhyme in there? Me either. Isn't that part of, you know, writing a song?

Plus, if you listen, during the whole song there's something making a grinding sound in the background. I really hate that. And the sonofabitch won a Grammy Award. Go figure...

Margaritaville- Jimmy Buffett

I don't like songs with an island beat to begin with, but this is really bad. Jimmy calls it The National Anthem, but I think for now I'll just hang on to the old one, thank you very much. I've never really understood the Parrothead thing, just like I've never understood how anyone could follow the Grateful Dead. Get a fuckin' job, hippies.

Yeah, I'm old. Now get off my lawn.


Yellow Submarine- Beatles

I could list most Beatles songs, but this is probably the worst. Not only is the song awful, but I'm still pissed because I watched the movie 40 years ago thinking it was going to be a funny cartoon, and it sucked so bad that it affected most of my adolescence. There were some serious mushrooms happening when they wrote that hunk of shit.

I'm still hoping for a Beatles reunion. Hell, it'll only take two more bullets. Not that much to ask, is it?

This Kiss- Faith Hill

I know I said no country, but this crossed over to pop. so there. While being exceptionally attractive, I have to believe that if you wanted to gather a pack of coyotes, you could just play Faith Hill music, and they'd come a-runnin'.

This song in particular bugs me. It sounds like she's trying to speed-talk the lyrics, so it translates like she's singing with a mouthful of shit. Plus, there's part of the chorus that I freakin' hate:

It's that pivotal moment

It's (aah...) subliminal

THIS KISS! THIS KISS! (It's criminal)

THIS KISS! THIS KISS!

That "aah" part sounds like she's faking an orgasm, and I hear enough of that at home, thank you very much. Plus she strains so hard on THIS KISS! I think someday one of her eyeballs is going to pop out.

Oh, just in case you're wondering, I'm the one faking the orgasms.

No Rain- Blind Melon

I'm putting this in because this is just one example of the lead singer, who's a dude, having this high pitched, whiny-ass voice. Here are some lyrics, just in case you don't recognize the title:

All I say can say, you know my life is pretty plain
I like watchin' the puddles gather rain
All I can do, is just pour some tea for two
And speak my point of view

Geddy Lee from Rush and that bunghole from Styx are others that have that voice. Hey fellas, stop squeezing your nuts, and sing like men, would you please?

Cocaine/I Shot the Sheriff- Eric Clapton

Not only does the first song suck, but it sent an incredibly poor message to kids when it came out. He seems like a smart guy, and he can certainly play the bejesus out of a guitar. He should have been a lot more responsible than writing a song that glorifies a hard drug.

That other ball of shit I think is a remake of a Bob Marley song. I've hated reggae ever since I went to Jamaica a few years ago, and discovered just how much those fuckers hate Americans. Especially if you don't buy their bullshit trinkets, or don't give them money just because they ask you to. Lazy goddamn humps. Not my favorite week, that trip to the island.

You're Beautiful- James Blunt

You ever watch this jabronie sing the tune? He looks off into space like he's on some kind of qualude, and you just want to hit him with a shovel so he'll snap out of it.


I'm not makin' this shit up

Plus it's another song where the guy sings the lyrics too quickly, so they fit into the tune. Here's just one of many examples:

There must be an angel, with a smile on her face,
When shethoughtupthatIshouldbewithyou

He sings that last line like it's all one word. Condense the lyrics, or add some more tune, Jimmy.

Handlebars- Flobots

This is a very recent addition. My kids liked this one for awhile- I really think it was written to irritate people. It breaks off into rap for a lot of the song- just awful. And somehow they find a way to include a nasty trumpet part- you sure don't hear that every day. Those of you out there with kids from 8-18 probably have heard it. Once was enough, wasn't it?

Brass In Pocket- Pretenders

I'm surprised I almost forgot this one- I've hated this song for over 28 years. This is the one where Chrissy Hynde mumbles all through the song. Wait, I'd better narrow that down. She mumbles through every goddamn song she's ever done.

Let me give you the chorus, and I'm sure you'll recognize it if you're over 40. You kids out there, just trust me- this megasucks.

GONNA USE MY ARMS
GONNA USE MY LEGS
GONNA USE MY STYLE
GONNA USE MY SIDESTEP
GONNA USE MY FINGERS
GONNA USE MY, MY, MY IMAGINATION


'CAUSE I GONNA MAKE YOU SEE
THERE'S NOBODY ELSE HERE
NO ONE LIKE ME
I'M SPECIAL SO SPECIAL
I GOTTA HAVE SOME OF YOUR ATTENTION GIVE IT TO ME

Just horrid. But at least she was good looking:


Or not...

Kiss- Prince

Okay, here's another phenomenon I never understood. What did women ever find sexy in a guy that's about 5'2" with his high heels on, weighs about a buck-fifteen, has a pube mustache, and wears outfits like this?


Jesus tap-dancin' Christ...

Amazingly, the girls went nuts for this jagoff. Then he changed his name to a symbol that I think was the chemical sign for titanium, and gradually went away. Not quickly enough for me, by the way.

But the song Kiss is really bad. Especially right at the end, when he's screaming like someone set him on fire, or took away his eye liner. In the video, he does his sexy dance without a shirt on, and every real man in America just wants to drive his fist straight through that tiny, 19 inch chest he's sporting.

Goddamn, I hate Prince. Let's move on...

My Heart Will Go On- Celine Dion

Let me start by saying that Celine Dion is maybe the greatest female singer of our generation. She has a gift like no other- just an amazing voice.

But she is also maybe the most annoying person of our generation. When she sings, especially this song, she insists on gyrating and beating on her chest when she sings about her heart. Just makes me crazy. Plus she always does the air guitar thing when she sings a rock song. She really needs to stop that. Whoever invented air guitar should be strung up by their testicles, even if it's a woman.


See? I told ya...

Anyway, add the fact that this song has been played around eight million times, and we have a winner. When I hear it, all I can think of is Leo would have survived if Kate Winslett's ass hadn't been too fat for both of them to ride on that piece of wood.

I love you, Leo. Part of my soul sank to the bottom of the sea with you at the end of the movie.

What's Going On?- Four Non-Blondes

This is at the top of my list. I'm listening to it right now so I can try to communicate how much I hate this fucking song. The lead singer screeches out the lyrics, and keeps going up and down octaves. Sing it with me, kids:

And so I wake in the morning and I step outside
And I take a deep breath and I get real high
And scream from the top of my lungs, WHAT'S GOING ON!!!!!

I think the worst part is the video, and the singer is wearing a stupid goddamn top hat while she's making my ears bleed. I can't talk about this anymore- I have to go kick my dog...


Ah, there's the hat. I'd love to slap that thing off her head

Okay, I'm back. So that's it for now. I'll probably be adding some as I think of them, but in the meantime, I want to hear from y'all. Just hit the "comment" thingy, and go crazy. We're almost at 16,000 hits on the website, so I know you're out there somewhere.

Get to work.