Family Night and Miss Universe

So a couple of weeks ago, my family expanded our horizons a little bit, and went international. What the hell am I talking about, you ask? Well, we have a tradition of watching beauty pageants, and spending two hours goofing on the contestants. Both of my regular readers know all about this (see archives of May/2010, and April/2009). They are some of my favorite nights, because the jokes are flying everywhere, and since the kids have gotten older, the shit that comes out of their mouths just kills me. Miss USA was in May, and I'm just now recovering from that night.

But this is the first year that we've all watched the Miss Universe pageant. I'm not sure why- probably because it happens when all the kids' fall sports start up. And I was fired up big time, because with all the foreign skank, this had the potential of being really, really fun. This was another target-rich environment for jokes.

As usual, I decided to keep a running diary of the evening. And as usual, I need to say before we start that I know that we're a bunch of shitweasels that need to find another hobby. But kids, I double dare you to have more fun with your family than we have in these two hours. I do my best, but words cannot describe what happens in my basement during beauty pageants.

So grab your scorecards, buckle up, and shit-can any possible hope of political correctness. Here we go:

8:00- Hey, boys and girls! Welcome back to the Sterner basement fortress. We're here once again with my adorable wife Annie, who will try unsuccessfully to keep the really raunchy stuff to a minimum. My older boys Mike, 15, and Sam, 14, take their usual spots in front of the TV, where they can get a good look at the various bouncing body parts, and of course yours truly will be the chubby guy in the recliner, scribbling notes like a madman.

The pageant is back in Las Vegas this year, at the Mandalay Bay. They went to Mexico a couple of years ago, and the crowd booed every time the poor USA girl came on stage. I'm surprised they didn't throw bags of piss at her, like they do at the Mexico-USA soccer games. Just a terrific country, that Mexico. If North America needed an enema, guess where it would be given?

They're starting the pageant by introducing all 83 contestants, and they're wearing costumes that represent their countries. This is going to be fun- in fact, I'm so excited, I just got a semi-chub. At my age, that's about all I can generate.

I'll just describe a few of the best, since these diaries always end up being a longer read than War and Peace.

Botswana- The first African nation introduced, and she's wearing some kind of native head-dress. Mike comes right out of the gate by making three clicking sounds, and then "Good evening-I have AIDS!" We're not two minutes in, and I have to stop the DVR for the first time to laugh until I cry like a little girl. New record (and yes, I'm very aware that we're assholes).

Egypt- Wearing a pyramid on her head- no shit. Looks like Susanna Hoffs in Walk Like An Egyptian.


Mmmm...Susanna Hoffs...

France- Has a beret and the Eiffel Tower on her head. Jesus, could you be a little more cliche? All that's missing is the white flag and an unfiltered cigarette in her hand. Goddamn, I hate the French...

Georgia- Not much of a costume, but Sam says, "She should be wearing a luge outfit, with blood all over it". Because, you know, of the guy that jumped the track at the Olympics? Too soon? I don't care- it cracked me up. Bite me.

Jamaica- She's wearing a giant butterfly costume, except that there's not much covering her body. Mike calls her a "slutterfly". Here she is:



Tanzania- Another colorful native costume, and she's carrying a gourd. Sam says, "I'll bet all of her nation's money is in that gourd". I'm a little bit proud- at least it wasn't another AIDS joke. It was a poverty joke, so there.

Turkey- Looks and dresses a lot like Lady Gaga, complete with the butter face. I have to stop the DVR for a moment while the kids and I once again argue about Lady Gaga. They think she's uglier than a sackful of assholes (my dad's old saying, thank you), but I submit that she's a homely girl with a rockin' body. A one-bagger, if you will. Let's just move on...

USA- Mike's girl Rima Fakih from the Miss USA pageant- she's sporting an outfit that looks like a gold coin. I can't believe we've never capitalized on her last name before (Fakih- me? Fakih-You!). I think we're slipping a bit.

8:15- Well, that nonsense is finally over, and it's time to meet our hosts. This is important- they've had some really annoying ones the past few years (see:Billy Bush). They come out- it's once again Natalie Morales from the Today Show (not too bad- she's cute), and...Bret Michaels?


Fuck...me...

This is going to be bad- we can feel it. He's wearing his Hulk Hogan doo-rag and squinting to see the cue cards. They're out there for 10 seconds before Natalie nudges him that it's his turn to speak. Long two hours coming up here, kids...

8:20- Okay, they're going to cut the group down to the top 15, This has to suck for the other 68 contestants, because they're on TV for like five seconds, and then they're down the road. But if you think about it, in most of those countries, it's either the middle of the night (Europe, Asia), or they don't have TV's there (Africa). So, I guess...fuck 'em.

Here are the highlights of the top 15:

Puerto Rico- She's tall, blonde, and skinny. No way in hell she's Puerto Rican. Shit, I look more Puerto Rican than she does.

Mexico- This is Mike and Sam's pick to win it all. She is beautiful, except she borrowed Priscilla Presley's eyelashes from the 60's. They're freakishly long. It shows how old I'm getting, when the first thing I notice on a gorgeous woman is her eyelashes.

Ireland- Stop the presses! Here's my pick right here. Also, I think Mike may have changed his mind. He cups his hands and speaks into then like he's on a PA system. "Calling Dr. Boner! Dr. Boner, please report to my pants...". DVR pause again- I spit out a mouthful of Diet Pepsi and laugh like a jackyl for two minutes.

South Africa- We all make the sound of those goddamn horns from the World Cup, and I get to bring out one of my favorite movie lines of all time, spoken by the bad South African guy from Lethal Weapon 2. He holds his badge up, and yells, "Diplomatic immunity!", right before Danny Glover shoots him in the head. I say it every time I see a South African, which makes Annie want to shoot me in the head. (See right below this article for the clip)

Jamaica- The Slutterfly got through! She'll now ask all the remaining contestants if she can braid their hair for $10, or if they want to buy some of her useless bullshit trinkets. I had a bad experience in Jamaica a few years ago. Won't be going back to the island anytime soon.

And for the first time I can remember, there is no Miss USA in the top 15! Holy cow, Rima must have farted in front of the judges- that's the only way she doesn't advance. I think we got Fakih'd on that one.

8:35- We're back from commercial, and Bret Michaels is staring off into space. Natalie literally elbows him to shock him back to reality. You can tell that she's not enjoying her experience with a burned out 80's singer. I'll bet he's the most annoying person she's worked with since Katie Couric.

Fuck, I hate Katie Couric...

Okay, boys and girls, it's swimsuit time!

And tonight, they're going to be strutting to the sounds of "Viva Elvis!", which I guess is a new show out there in Vegas. Uh-oh, there's that semi-chub again. Ladies and gentlemen, please start your impersonations and dead Elvis jokes!

C'mon, sing with me kids- its' fun! "Viva...fat dead Elvis...."

Okay, here's Miss Puerto Rico. I still say she's really from Canada- no way she's a native. You tell me:

Miss Ukraine is okay, but she has that Eastern European quality about her. You know, pretty but a little bit hagged out? Here she is:

Maybe I've just been getting too many emails from Russia that have a picture and a marriage proposal. Shit, I'm not taking any of those seriously until the kids get out of the house. After that, who knows? My children could have a 19 year old stepmom named Svetlana.

"Viva...drug addiction...."

Here comes Miss Australia- tall, pretty, but smaller up top than most of the other contestants. This prompts Mike to tell me, "Dad, girls are like rocks. You want to skip the flat ones". I've never heard that one- DVR pause again while I giggle for a minute.

Jamaica appears, and the Slutterfly forgot to apply the butt glue. Or maybe it was on purpose. Whatever, the tiny swimsuit is currently riding way, way up there. Kids, that is one hungry ass! She'll need the jaws of life to free up that wedgie.

"Viva, white jumpsuit...."

Here's Albania, and wow, this girl has amazingly large boobs. As she's walking down the runway, I turn the DVR to super-slow motion, and it's like a seismic event with every step. I start making rumbling sounds- you know, like when Godzilla stomps down the streets of Tokyo? I say, "Can you imagine doing a motorboat with those?"

Mike says, "Dad, don't worry about it. You're so old, all you can do these days is run to the end of the chain and bark". After taking a moment to ask my oldest son if he wouldn't mind kissing my fuzzy ass, I look over, and Annie has her head in her hands, and her whole body is shaking because she's laughing so hard. I tell her to shut the crap up.

"Viva, dyin' on the shitter..."

It's Mexico's turn- yeah, she's really good looking. Mike and Sam reiterate that they think she's going to win. I'm reserving judgement until I see my girl from Ireland. Speaking of which...

Here she comes. She is a vision in her tiny, Donald Trump inspired bikini. She's blonde, and proportioned just right. As she walks down the runway, I imagine her wearing the crown. She's the winner- no doubt about it.

Wait a second...

Annie sees it first. She says, "Oh no- she's got a cameltoe!" As she gets closer to the camera, it becomes more and more apparent. But boys and girls, this is no ordinary cameltoe. There is something major going on down there. The bulge is huge. I'm talking "Crying Game" here, guys.

We run it back and forth a few times, and I stop the DVR at just the right moment. Mike runs over to the TV, points to the spot, and in the same voice as the guy that announces the monster truck rally, yells:

"CAMEL HOOF!!"

9:00- It's been 15 minutes. The kids have literally had time to go upstairs and get a snack. I'm almost 52 years old, and aside from that time my older brother Dale got hit in the nuts with a golf ball, this might be the hardest I've laughed in my entire life. I am an absolute quivering mass in my recliner. My shirtsleeves are wet from wiping tears out of my eyes, and my stomach feels like I've done a hundred sit-ups. I was not expecting "camel hoof" in the monster truck voice.

I'll try to watch the rest of the pageant, but I'm pretty much done. Everything else is going to be anticlimactic. I'm still rooting for her, but I'm certain I won't be looking at Miss Ireland the same ever again.

Okay, they're cutting down to the top 10. Here we go:

Ireland- Way to go, camelhoof! She's 5'11", and her hobbies are playing the piano, and tucking in her junk.

Albania- She counts as two spots- one for her, and one for her gigantic knockers. There's a word you don't hear much any more. I'm bringing it back. Knockers.

Phillipines- She's 5'9", and her hobbies include picking up American soldiers while they're on shore leave. Love you long time, Joe...five buck.

Jamaica- She's 5'10", and she likes kickboxing, self wedgies, and selling worthless shit to tourists. Yeah, I'm still bitter. Could have been a nice vacation.

Puerto Rico- 5'8", and enjoys acting. She's currently acting as if she was born in Puerto Rico.

Ukraine- 5'9"- 22 years old. No fuckin' way she's a day under 40. That's a big fibski right there, comrade.

Guatamala- 5'7", and loves designing handbags. Her 12 little brothers and sisters are hard at work right now, sewing together those handbags for 23 cents a day.

South Africa- The boys and I make the horn sounds again. I didn't think she'd make the top 10- I say that she must have gotten...DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY! Annie tells me to shut the fuck up.

Australia- Who says you need boobs to make the top 10? She's 5'10, and looks a lot like Miley Cyrus. The boys and I decide that we're calling her Hannah Australia for the rest of the pageant.

Mexico- No question- she's the favorite now. She's 5'9", and Sam says "her hobbies are swimming across rivers and climbing fences". Nice illegal immigration reference, Sam. I'm so proud right now, I could just shit.

They're heading to break, but not before Bret Michaels says, "the ladies will stoon step into their evening gowns". Yep, he said "stoon". You can actually hear Natalie Morales' ass clench up. It's 6/5 she offs herself before the end of the show.

9:15- Evening gown time. Nobody likes this part- this is way too cultured for assholes like us. They will be accompanied by a special medley by superstar John Legend. We take a quick survey in the basement, and nobody knows who the fuck John Legend is. We already miss Trace Atkins from the Miss USA pageant.

Miss Ireland has a nice outfit, and it actually manages to hide The Hoof. No small feat, that one. God help me- I can't stop wondering what the hell is happening down there in Crotchland. This will haunt my dreams for the foreseeable future. She may be Irish, but I'll bet it's not magically delicious in that region.

Puerto Rico comes out in a pink gown, with a giant bow in the back. I say it's a preview for the size of her ass the moment she turns 30.

Mexico- Beautiful red gown- she'll have to screw this thing up giant to lose tonight. She's the Barbaro of beauty pageant contestants. Wait- that's a bad example. I just fed my dog a can of Barbaro this morning.

Here's Hannah Australia. Nice outfit- booby fairy didn't come during the commercial. Bummer, mate.

Whoa, the fairy came for Miss Guatamala. She's wearing a really, really tight gold gown- boobage is seeping out all over the place. Those ninos are mucho grande.

The rest of the girls do their thing, but nobody really stands out for us. The one thing we all agree on is that John Legend sucks. He should change his name to John Cougar Mediocre.

9:30- Time to quickly introduce the judges. Most of them are either fashion people, or Trump minions. But there's Billy Baldwin, who looks like he's still on the drugs, Chyna Phillips of Wilson Phillips fame, who used to be great looking but now resembles Skelator, and magician Criss Angel. The kids and I all yell "MIND FREAK!" at the same time. We may be spending too much time together.

9:35- Kids, we're down to the final five! They are:

Mexico- Gee, no shit.

Phillipines- If this keeps up, she may be charging 10 buck to love you long time.

Ukraine- If she wins, she's going to have to confess to Trump that not only is she not 22, she has kids that are 22.

Jamaica- Hungry Butt Slutterfly is still here. The boys sing Buffalo Soldiers as she walks to her spot. Reminds me just how much reggae sucks, and what a bad experience I had in Jamaica.

Hannah Australia- She was also Miss Congeniality, which normally is the Kiss of Death for beauty contestants. We'll see if she can break the jinx.

That's five, which means that my "girl" Miss Ireland is history. I'm disappointed, and I feel so...dirty.

9:45- Time for the final question. This is the only place that Mexico can mess this thing up, and she has to go first.

She gets the question from American figure skater Evan Lysacek, who has slicked back hair and looks like Gay Superman.

See?

He asks about whether unfiltered internet use should be allowed. She doesn't speak English, so she launches into a long answer that lasts around 30 seconds. The interpreter then steps in and says, "she says the parents should teach good values". I don't know what happened to the other part of her answer- only the interpreter and 98% of the workers in Vegas know what she said. Dammit, why can't the whole world speak American?

(Writer's note- If the internet ever gets filtered, I'm out of business.)

Australia- Nicky Taylor asks if religious clothing should be banned in schools, and Hannah gives a very well thought out response about personal freedoms. I'd say she has a good chance to win after that answer, but alas, still no boobies.

Jamaica- Someone named Tamryn Hall asks about whether she agrees with the death penalty. She says she's against it, unless it happens to be an American that doesn't buy her beads and shit. Okay, I made that last part up.

Ukraine- Jane Seymour, who is still knockout gorgeous at age 59, asks whether the new scanners at airports show too much of the travelers body. Ukraine seems relaxed, probably because she and Jane are the same age. She says she doesn't mind, but that's easy for her to say- she has a nice body. Personally, I don't want to see an image of my chubby ass on a video screen, but that's just me.

Phillipines- Billy Baldwin snaps out of his coma long enough to ask her what was her biggest mistake. Sam says "Other than being born in the Phillipines?". She said she's never really made a big mistake- comes across really arrogant. Bye, now...

9:55- We're ready to announce the final winners, and then Natalie Morales can take Bret Michaels backstage and hit him with a chair until he has another stroke. Bret Michaels was a very bad idea, Trump. Don't ever do that again.

Drumroll, please...

4th runnerup: Phillipines- snotty answer about never making a mistake killed her. She'll have to keep her price at five buck.

3rd runnerup: Ukraine- she overachieved. I don't think she should have been in the top 10. She has a good shot at being Miss AARP, though.

2nd runnerup: Australia- I was hoping she would do better. But alas...you know the rest.

That leaves Jamaica and Mexico. I'm not a fan of either country, so I officially don't give a shit anymore. But the boys have liked Mexico since the original Parade of Nations, so let's see if they called it right...

Yep, it's Mexico. I guess Mike and Sam have bragging rights until next year. Actually, Mike called both Miss USA and Miss Universe correctly- I think he's the first in our family to do the double. That makes him either a great judge of beauty, or a giant poof. I think it's the latter.

So there you go, boys and girls. Thanks once again for spending some time with us warped bastards. I think this is the most fun I've ever had for one of our "family nights"- I hope I was able to convey the carnage that is our basement during a pageant.

Oh- just one more thing...

CAMEL HOOF!

My Favorite Movie Line

Now every time you see someone from South Africa, you can say it too!

Dawgs Open New Season With Win

The Dawgs I team got a flying start to the new EAHL season last tuesday night, when they doubled up a very good Dr. 5 Hole squad, 6-3. If the game was any indication of the talent level of this winter's league, this should be one exciting season.

After taking the summer off, Tyson Dale and Daniel Pham celebrated a successful return to the team, with Dale scoring two goals, and linemate Pham chipping in with one. Shaun Hollis, who this week joined another team to expand his hockey experience, also scored, while defensemen Rick Zimmat and Tito Pijanowski banged in one apiece.


Pham, left with Dale

After surrendering a goal on his first shot, goalie Al Sterner settled down a little bit, giving up just two more for the rest of the game. He got a solid effort from his defense, along with a terrific backchecking effort from the forwards, who limited quality shots from a really fast Dr. 5 Hole squad. Sterner is nursing an ankle injury that has sidelined him for the past month, and it showed in his early performance.



Sterner- 1st period

5 Hole opened the scoring around four minutes into the contest, and then doubled the lead halfway through the period, when Sterner was beaten on a screen shot from the top of the right circle. It was looking pretty bleak for the good guys, but Hollis was able to cut the lead in half before the end of the frame, so it was just 2-1 heading to the second.

It appeared that the Dawgs flipped a switch during the intermission, because they came out flying in the second. Pijanowski, aka the "Polish Prince", tied the contest early in the period, shocking everybody by leaving his defensive position and cashing in from in front of the opposing net.

Soon after that, Pham and Dale each put in their first of the night, and what was once a deficit was quickly a two goal lead. Meanwhile, the Dawgs defense did a nice job holding Dr. 5 Hole scoreless in the second, which didn't seem possible after their fast start. So the Dawgs went to the third up 4-2, but the lead in no way felt safe considering the quality of the opponent.

But the Dawgs made things a little more comfortable, when Dale got his second of the game with around 10 minutes remaining. But 5 Hole struck back with four minutes left, when Sterner was beaten by a sniper to the top corner of the net.

But 52 year old defenseman Rick Zimmat put the game out of range with two minutes remaining, when he ripped a shot from the circle that deflected off of the 5 Hole goalie's stick and into the corner of the cage.

The Dawgs will now try to add to their good start tonight, when they take on a brand new EAHL team called The Nooks. Game time is set for 9:30.

In other Dawgs news:

The Dawgs welcomed two new players to the squad this week. The first is former Ozone player Michael Slutzky, whose last name is Russian for "dirty whore". The second is Brandon Pham, the younger brother of Dawgs veteran Daniel. This is not the first time that the Pham brothers have played on the same team:


Daniel, right

This week Dawgs forward Brad Stabio introduced his young son Oliver to the family tradition of wearing a really stupid hat. Oliver was just overjoyed at the prospect:


"Does this mean I'm a homo too, dad?"

This week Dawgs forward Shaun Hollis announced that we will now also be playing for the Purple Cobras in the EAHL C-3 league. He scored two goals in his first game against Dawgs II, and because of that success, then announced he would be playing in one additional league where he was certain to excel:


Click to enlarge

Dawgs center Josh Adams points to the spot where he really likes having sex:


Don't even have to knock-just go right in the back door

Dawgs captain Marty Richardson announced this week that he has taken over coaching a seven year old girl's soccer team. He may need to rethink his choice of game attire.

Little Ball of Hate, Jr.

So I was watching my oldest kid Mike playing in a pre-season soccer scrimmage last Saturday afternoon. He's 15, and a sophomore at Arvada West High School. During play, the goalie on his team went up for a ball, got control of it, and then got upended by a Smoky Hills player who came in late trying to get a head on it. It was a borderline dirty play, because goalies are so vulnerable when they're up in the air. Plus it was just a scrimmage, so kids shouldn't be anywhere near colliding with goalies under the circumstances. Here's a great picture of it:


Didn't end well

Our keeper went down hard, and got pretty shaken up. He stayed on the ground for some time, while our coach came out to check on him. Apparently while they were all waiting, one of their players said something like "Stop being gay, get up and play soccer".

Well, Mike happened to be close enough to hear the remark, and went over to have a little discussion with their guy. Of course, I was on the sidelines, well out of earshot, so I didn't have any idea what was going on.

I looked over, and it appeared at first that they were just having a regular conversation. Then Mike stepped a little closer to the Smoky Hill guy, and stuck his finger in his face. Next thing you know, they were nose to nose and needed to be pulled apart by some teammates. Well, that's not quite right. The other kid was about six inches taller than Mike. It was more like nose to throat.

Play started a couple of minutes later, and it turned out that the same two players were going for a loose ball near my sideline. They were running side by side, and right when they got to the ball, Mike dipped his shoulder and blasted the Smoky Hill kid with a perfectly legal bump, sending him stumbling out of the play. I don't think the kid was expecting the hit, and it pissed him right off.

The ball went upfield, and Mike challenged another one their players for the ball. It was a taller, blond kid with a great big Jew-Fro. Just as the kid kicked the ball away, Mike came in, stuck a shoulder into his chest, and then gave him a great two-handed shove. The guy he originally had a problem with came running up and said "Don't push him again! You wanna go?". I guess that's a challenge for a fight.

Mike said, "Yeah, let's go, dickfuck". The Smoky Hill kid said, "What are you, four feet tall?" Mike smiled and calmly replied, "Yeah, four feet. No problem- let's go." Then they got separated again, the Smoky Hill coach took his player out of the game, and they were done for the rest of the scrimmage.

Now, please don't get the idea that I'm telling you all this because I'm proud of his actions out there (though I have to admit I'm a little impressed by the creativity of the word dickfuck) . Honestly, I'm pretty pleased that he stuck up for his teammate, and that he won't shy away from physical play. At this level, sometimes you need to bang a little bit, and the timid kids aren't going to last very long. But I don't want him to come out talking shit every game unless he's provoked, or he's standing up for one of his buddies.

Here's why I'm relating the story to you. Because for the first time last Saturday, I watched him play, and I saw me. You see, when I was a younger man, I was what the hockey players like to call a "Little Ball of Hate".

What is that? Well, that's a term given to a guy with a smaller size that needs to show that he's not afraid to play with the big boys. You come to the game angry, and stay that way until it's over. You're not intimidated, and you're not shy about getting physical and talking trash. Sometimes you get your ass kicked, but you'd rather have that happen than back down from a confrontation.

You little guys out there know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you?

And that's what I saw in Mike last Saturday. His body is very similar to what mine was when I was his age. He's actually a little taller than I was at the time (5'3" vs. around 5'1"), but the small frame he has is built like a brick shithouse. He has a low center of gravity, and thick legs, so he's pretty hard to move. He's not little- he's short. And there is a huge difference between those two things. Here he is:


Good lookin' kid, eh? Takes after his mom

As I watched him during his little episode Saturday, I got a flashback from around 35 years ago, when I was playing soccer for Pomona High School. I was a sophomore, just like Mike, and it was the only season I've ever played that I wasn't a goalie. The keeper we had was a senior, and much, much better than me, so I played sweeper, which is the last line of defense.

During a game against Columbine (yep, that Columbine), our goalie Steve picked up a ball in our penalty area. Back at that time, a keeper could roll the ball along the ground in that area, and then pick it back up again, gaining ground for the punt upfield. The rule's changed since then- now once it's on the ground, you can't pick it up- you have to play it with your feet.

So Stever rolled the ball, and right as he picked it back up, a lanky Columbine player ran over and banged into him pretty hard. Steve punted the ball upfield, and as we jogged together, I told the guy that he had better not run into my goalie again. Then the fucker laughed at me. Looking back, I can't really blame him- shit, he was about 9 inches taller than me. But at the time, your little pal got what my dad calls "the ol' red-ass". Somehow, some way, I was going to get a chunk of that dickhole. The only thing that could have made me madder was if he had patted my head.

Then about five minutes later, the exact same thing happened. Steve picked up the ball, and this time the kid came into him hard. Cleated Stever right above his shin guard. I guess the ref didn't see it, because he didn't call anything. Steve kind of winced, but shook it off and hit the punt back upfield. The Columbine guy smiled at me as he ran by.

Again, back in the old days, there were only two referees in soccer. One on each sideline, where linemen stand today. There was no middle ref like they have now. That's a lot of field for two guys to patrol, and they couldn't watch everything.

At least, that's what I was hoping.

Stever punted the ball way up in the air, and I took a quick glance to make sure Mr. Referee was following the flight of the ball. I saw the Columbine jagoff about 15 yards in front of me, standing with his back turned. Big mistake, son. I took off, and was at ramming speed when I got to him.

Because of our height difference, I stuck my shoulder right in the middle of his back, and actually heard the air go out of the cocksucker when I hit him. His neck snapped back, and I got to hear what 170 pounds of shit sounds like when it hits the ground. In retrospect, I probably could have really hurt him, but I didn't give a flying fuck at the time. I was The Little Ball of Hate, and he had hit my goalie twice. And laughed at me. So, you know...fuck him.

The ref came running over, and the kid hadn't regained his breath yet. He just rolled back and forth, and pointed at me. The ref said, "What happened?" I said, "The ball was up in the air, and we just ran into each other. We hit pretty hard- my shoulder must have got him somewhere. That really hurt- he's a lot bigger than me. But I think I'm okay." I rubbed my shoulder and bent over a little to sell it better.

By that time, the other kid had gotten his breath back. "He cheap shotted me from behind! Red card! Red card!"

I shrugged. "We just ran into each other. Look how much bigger he is than me. I'm not stupid." He was still on the ground, so I stuck out my hand to help him up. "You okay, buddy?" Believe it or not, he didn't take my hand. The ref said, "Let's just play soccer, guys", and ran back to the sideline.

As the ref took his place, the Columbine guy said, "I'm going to kick your ass". I said "You think that hurt? Come near my goalie again, and I'm going for your fuckin' knees."

So that was pretty much the way I was through high school and young adulthood. Well, actually it was until my thirties, when I finally grew up a little bit and knocked that shit off. But I always played hard, just with a little bit of chippiness. And I always ran my mouth, especially if I was provoked.

In other words, I was just the kind of guy that I love to hate these days. But dammit, I was good at it. I could turn a phrase with the best of them- I had hundreds of ways of questioning a guy's sexuality. Wait...I still do that, but not when I'm playing anymore. Just when I'm busting balls in the locker room, or on this blogsite.

It's a lot different now. I've been around so long, I know most of the guys I play with and against, and we're pretty cordial. Shit, the closest I ever get to nasty anymore is when I'm sitting on the front porch, yelling at the local hooligans to get off my lawn while I whittle.

Looking back, I'm not very proud of my behavior during those years. And like I said before, I don't want Mike or any of my kids to be like that as a regular thing. But when it's necessary- when one of my guys needs to stand up for himself or a teammate, or if play gets a little nasty, I don't want any of them to be afraid to get their nose dirty. Like Keanu Reeves says in The Replacements, "Pain heals...chicks dig scars...glory...lasts forever" (goddamn, I love a good Keanu Reeves reference).

And when you're our size, sometimes the only way to survive is to morph into the Little Ball of Hate. Or Little Ball of Hate, Jr.

Dawgs Nate "Crutch It" Akell Does the Electric Slide

Joined by a lovely Cindy Richardson and later by the groom and fellow Dawg Danny Packard. If Nate had a funny little hat, he'd look just like Bobo the Dancing Bear.

He's The Reason I'm Like This

I get asked two questions pretty often by my friends, teammates, and the handful of people that look in occasionally on this blogsite.

What the fuck is wrong with you? And how did you get this way?

Those are actually pretty fair questions. Everyone knows that goalies are a strange breed to begin with. We step in front of hard rubber pucks flying toward our bodies at a high rate of speed. Sometimes we get hit in places that aren't protected very well, and it hurts like a bitch. But we'd rather get hurt than fish the goddamn puck out of the net. At least I would.

And I've been a goalie in one sport or another for around 37 years, so that just multiplies the level of crazy. I think it's healthy that I at least realize that there is something wrong with me. I see the world a little differently than most people. And hopefully I express that in a way that gives you a chuckle every once in awhile.

The second question is easy. I know how I got this way. I know exactly why I'm a strange little fucker. Kids, for those of you that regularly read this trash, you might notice that I sometimes reference phrases and expressions from my dad.

I've kept him in the basement long enough- I think it's time that I introduce you to Lee Sterner.

Dad turned 80 a couple of weeks ago. You know you're getting old when you can write that your dad turned 80. Shit, 80 is how old your grandparents are supposed to be. But no, my very own father is now an octogenarian. And for all you hockey players out there, that doesn't mean that he has eight arms, okay? I know that was a pretty big word-I'll try to limit those.

So my older brother Dale and I gathered up our families here in Denver, and we took the five hour trip up to Casper, Wyoming to celebrate the important milestone. There are not many things that will make me willingly drive into Wyoming, because it is a complete shithole. I can say that with some certainty because I spent quite a bit of my youth there. But this was kind of a biggie, because we were celebrating a birthday that Dale and I never thought in a million years would happen.

You see, my dad (everyone just calls him Sterner, including my brother and me) hasn't exactly been the picture of health during his 80 years on Earth. He had his first heart attack at age 27, possibly as a result of his three packs per day habit of unfiltered Pall Mall cigarettes. Or maybe it was the gallons of whiskey that he drank. Or possibly it was from eating red meat with every meal. Shit, back in the 50's and 60's, that's just what everybody did. Whatever the reason, he's had a bad ticker forever. And when you throw in losing most of his stomach to an ulcer when he was 35, and a pesky case of diabetes that was diagnosed at age 40, you can see why we're kind of surprised he's still with us.

To his credit, he stopped smoking cold turkey when he was around 40, and he controls his diabetes with diet- he doesn't have to shoot insulin anymore. But he never stopped drinking- he still throws down a bunch of Wild Turkey and Diet 7-Ups every day. It never seems to phase him, and I've never seen him wake up with a hangover. When it comes to booze, he's a force of nature.

Now that I've given you some background on his physical side, let me tell you all a little about the personality characteristics that make up my dad. And once I've finished, you should be able to better understand why I am the way I am.

Sterner is what you can conservatively call a "character". He likes everybody, and everybody likes him. He's fiercely loyal, but if you fuck him over one time, he'll hold a grudge for the rest of his life. I inherited that trait- I can hold a grudge with the best of them.

You know he likes you if he gives you shit. And if he really likes you, he'll give you no end of shit. It's kind of a guage. If he doesn't give you a hard time, that's when you know you're in trouble. And I'm exactly like that. Hell, just look at my blog when I write game stories about my Dawgs team. Luckily, I like everyone on the squad, so I'm an equal opportunity ball buster. I try to take turns, but there are a few guys, like my man Marty, that I like so much I pound on them almost every week.

And if you look up the definition of "dirty old man", you will find a picture of my dad. Over the years, I have been amazed at what he can say to a woman and get away with, all because as he puts it, "I'm all cute and cuddly and shit". Here are a few examples:

Sterner makes jerky almost every day. Even at his age, he's still an avid hunter up there (I never got the hunting gene-not real big on watching things die), so he makes it from elk, antelope, deer, goose, and the odd gopher, I think. He always takes the jerky out to his country club in Casper to share with his friends and the waitresses. It's very good- they all look forward to him bringing it out. And every time, and I mean every time, he asks the girls if they want to gnaw on his "old, dried up meat". And God bless 'em, the girls play along and laugh every time.

Then later, he'll offer one of them some more. And if they make the mistake of saying "No thanks, I just had a piece", he'll always say, "I don't care about your sex life- do you want some jerky, or not?"

One of the girls will ask, "How're you doing today, Sterner?" And he'll always say "Without. You want to go someplace and change that?" And they always just laugh, shake their head and walk away.

Last time I visited him, a lady at the club told him that she was having a foot problem. He didn't even skip a beat before he looked at her and said, "I wish I had a foot problem. Even eight inches would be nice." Again, she just laughed and called him a sick puppy. I remember saying, "Sterner, someday one of these girls is going to knock you on your ass." He once again brought out his standard line, "Nah- I'm all cute and cuddly and shit".

He just has that certain charm, where he doesn't come across like a pervert- just a funny, harmless, and loveably dirty old man. And I honest to God believe that if he wasn't married, even at 80 he could parlay that charm into getting women into bed. He is that fuckin' smooth.

I asked him one time, back in the old days when I was single, for advice on how to get with girls. He told me "Boy (he still calls me boy, even at 51), it's just a numbers game. You ask the question often enough, someone is going to say yes." I responded, "Doesn't that get you rejected a lot?" He didn't even blink before he said "Who gives a shit? Like I always say-joke 'em if they can't take a fuck."

Here's the other part. Even at 80, he's sharp as a friggin' tack. He still does taxes for people (he's a retired CPA), including mine, and there is not one sign that his mind is ever wandering. He's getting a little hard of hearing, but the marbles are still in place.

My dad has a set of expressions, I call them "Sternerisms", that he uses all the time. And I literally mean all the time. You absolutely know that when a certain situation comes up, he's going to say the same thing, like the "dried up old meat" line. Here are some of those:

Every time he sees my wife Annie, he gets real close to her and says, "I don't care who you're married to- I still like you." He's been saying the same thing to her for 16 years.

Every phone conversation I have with him, the last thing he says is "Make sure you give the kids a big hug squeeze for me". Not hug and squeeze. Hug squeeze.

Every time he sees one of my brother's sons, he says, "Hey, look! Someone shit and put a green hat on it!" That expression changes, depending on what they're wearing that day.

Every time he introduces me to someone, he says, "This is my son Allen. Well, that's not quite true. Last time I saw his real father, he was running out the back door naked. He still owes me child support." That's a real crowd pleaser, that one.

When he sees a good looking woman at the golf course or in a restaurant, he always leans over to me and says "Wouldn't you like to try that on, and see if it fits?"

When he spots a skinny girl, he'll tell me, "Boy, you know what that is? That's called a "rib cracker". When you make love, you put it in soft, then listen to her ribs crack when you get a hard-on." Yep, that's my dad, ladies and gentlemen...

And every time he sees a tall girl, he says, "You know what's great about tall girls? Nose to nose, your toes are in it, and toes to toes, your nose is in it." I'm still not quite sure what that means, but that doesn't stop him from saying it.

There are also "golf Sternerisms"- expressions that he uses during every round he plays. Here are a few of the many:

When a guy makes a putt to beat him on a hole, he says, "You know what? You're like an erect penis. You have no conscience."

He'll hit a good drive, and someone will say "Nice ball, Sterner". And he'll immediately come back with, "Yeah, it's a Titleist. That is a good ball". After about 10 times, the other players will finally say "nice...uh...shot".

When a guy hits a putt that goes way past the hole, he'll say, "Hey, look! The gorilla hit one!" Every time.

Then if he leaves a putt short, he'll say, "What wrong, Alice? Did your tits get in the way?" It's always Alice, too.

If you have to go off into the bushes to take a piss, he'll always call after you, "Come back, boy! You're not taking enough club with you!"

When I get together with Sterner and my brother, we always play Gin Rummy. It's just something that we've done forever, and it brings out what I refer to as "tender family moments". Like everything he does, Sterner's very competitive at cards (more on that in a bit). He plays every day with his buddies at the country club, and has taken home hundreds and hundreds of dollars because he's so good. So when it goes badly, there are some more things that he says every time:

"Why, you lucky, unconscious prick."

"Boy, could you take the fuckin' horseshoe out of your ass before the next game?"

"Boy, I hope your dick falls off."

To be fair, I'm just as bad. A couple of years ago when we played, I actually called my father a "fuckhole". He laughed for 10 minutes- still tells all his friends about it. That's what I mean when I talk about "tender family moments".

Yeah, the Sterner family is pretty competitive. I'd like to think that I've gotten a little better about it as time has gone by, especially the last couple of years. I'm trying to set a decent example for my kids, but there's a fine line between being too competitive and not competitive enough. I always want my kids to play to win, just don't let it consume them if they happen to lose.

There is no such line with my dad. His whole philosophy was summed up at his 80th birhday party, when he saw me wearing my Dawg Nation t-shirt. On the back, it has our team motto, which includes "be modest in victory, and gracious in defeat". He walked up to me, and said "Boy, I just read the back of your shirt. If I've told you once, I've told you a million times. Show me a good loser, and I'll show you a loser."

He means that, too. I've never known anyone that hates to lose more than he does. And here's a story from his high school days that shows just how true that is.

He played football for Lewistown High School in Montana when he was a sophomore, even though he was 5'1" and weighed about 120 pounds. One day after practice, a senior farmboy lineman that was like 6'3" and 220 came into the locker room and snapped him hard with a wet towel. Left a big old welt on his back. You could do that shit back in 1945.

Sterner wasn't about to take that lying down, but he knew there was no way he could fight the bastard. So while the senior was in the shower, Sterner set fire to the clothes in his locker. Just stuffed everything in there, and torched all his shit. Needless to say, the senior wasn't a happy boy when he got out of the shower, and proceded to beat the living piss out of my dad.

Sterner couldn't let it go. He dragged his pummeled ass out to his car, and waited for the senior to come out of the locker room. When the guy walked into the parking lot, Sterner hit the fucker with his car. Didn't break any bones, but I guess it jacked him up quite a bit.

And the best part was that Sterner got away with it. The senior was too scared to press charges, because he thought my dad was fuckin' crazy enough to hunt him down and shoot him after he got out of jail. He was probably right. And for those of you that are calling bullshit right now, I'm sure this story is true- my aunt and my uncle told me the same accounts when I was a kid. I don't doubt it one tiny bit.

So besides small stature, competitiveness, ball busting our friends and the love for dirty jokes, I got at least one other thing from my dad. We both use humor as a defense mechanism. I can't tell you how many times I've cracked a joke when I've visited a friend in the hospital, or attended a wedding, or even when I've gone to a funeral. When shit gets heavy, I bust out the one liners. Sterner's the same way. It's just what we do.

Here's the best example. Back in 1986, the space shuttle Challenger exploded after it took off. It was one of saddest moments in American history. Shit, there there were a bunch of civilians on board, including schoolteacher Christa McAuliffe. I called Sterner up at work, because I knew he was a big fan of the space program. In fact, he's the most patrotic person I know.

So I got him on the phone, and said, "Dad, did you hear about the space shuttle exploding this afternoon?" It went dead silent for about 15 seconds, but I knew he was still there. I guess he hadn't heard yet. I'll never forget what he said next.

"Boy, you know what's the best part about that? Not one of those people owed me money."

So anyway, that's my dad in a few brief paragraphs. I hope that helps explain a little bit why I am the twisted little fella that I am. Even though he's had a pretty good and productive life, I'll be absolutely the first person to admit that he's far from perfect. He drinks too much, makes way too many dirty jokes, is way too competitive, and bottles up all of his emotions.

Someday, when I grow up, I want to be just like him.

Family Night and the Spelling Bee III

So last Friday night my family sat down for one of our biggest events of the year- the Scripps Howard National Spelling Bee Finals. Or as we like to refer to it: The Running of the Dorks. This has become a nice family tradition for us- it kind of marks the beginning of the summer.

Much like the Miss USA beauty pageant (see story below), this is a terrific opportunity for us to make fun of the contestants and their families, and maybe try to learn something in the process. Okay, forget that last part- we don't give a shit if we learn anything. As long as there are doinks, we're all set.

If you've ever seen this contest before, this is what the military guys call a target rich environment in the nerd department. So, just like I did in June of 2009 and May of 2008 (archived on this site), I'm going to keep a running diary of our evening.

Oh, and just like I usually do before I begin, I want to confirm what you're thinking: my family and I are a bunch of assholes that need to find a hobby. Yeah, now tell me something I don't know. But like I said last year, when was the last time you sat in a room with your kids and laughed your ass off for two hours? It's been awhile, right?

So hang on to your gluteus maximi, kids (that's asses- see, you're already smarter)- here we go...

7:00- Welcome back to the Sterner basement fortress! Tonight we're once again joined by my lovely wife Annie, along with my two older boys Mike, 15, and Sam, 14. The two smaller kids have once again been chased out of the basement because the language gets a little colorful down here. They're upstairs watching a very special ICarly, where she gets inappropriately goosed by her older brother, who's like 35 in real life. I know this because my daughter has that show on 19 hours per day. I've renamed it IWannaKillCarly.

Hosting the spelling bee tonight will be (we all collectively cross our fingers and chant "Not Tom Bergeron...not Tom Bergeron): Chris Harrison from The Bachelor. I've never seen that show- even I have to draw the line somewhere. With him is a wonk named Paul Loeffler, who won the bee back in the 90's. We all agree that there is no friggin' way Paul has ever touched a girl, much less gotten his bean snapped.

And backstage interviewing the losers will be the very attractive Erin Andrews from ESPN and Dancing With the Stars. I watched the last four episodes of DWTS, and she is a whole lot of bueno. Just as last year, this will be the last time in their lives that the boy contestants will be anywhere near an attractive woman.

7:10- We've gotten through all the preliminary crap, and now it's time to meet this year's ten finalists. Again, like last year I'm going to assign a nickname to everyone, because there are a shitload of letters in these names, and my typing skills haven't improved one tiny bit. They are:

Shantanu Srivatsu (Fargo, ND)- Believe it or not, there are some Indian kids in the finals. Wow, that almost never happens. Shantanu's not a bad looking kid, but he has a giant gap in his front teeth. We'll call him "Picket Fence".

Anamika Veeramani (Cleveland, OH)- Anamika was here last year. Her eyes were really far apart then, and the gap hasn't closed since we saw her last. Once again, she'll be "E.T."

Joanna Ye (Carlisle, PA)- Pretty normal looking Asian girl, which as always means she has no shot of winning this contest. Normal around here almost always spells doom. Joanna's dad looks like Mr. Sulu from Star Trek, but I don't think it's him. Mostly because Mr. Sulu is 75 years old now, and likes having a big, hairy one stuffed in his butt. She'll be "Ye Haw".

Aditya Chemudupaty (Houston, TX)- See why I'm giving everyone nicknames? Holy shit, could you have some more letters in your name, Aditya? He has wire rimmed glasses, so Mike gives him the name, "Brown Harry Potter". Chip off the old block, my kid Mike.

Laura Newcombe (Toronto, ONT)- I didn't know they let Canadians in this thing. Shit, most of the Canadians I know are dumber than a bucket of hair (another one of my dad's sayings-always try to sneak one in). Despite her last name, Laura is Asian, so we're going to call her "Can-Asian".

Adrian Gunuwan (Arlington Heights, IL)- Yet another Asian kid, with an odd shaped head. The thing starts out really wide on top, and then narrows considerably as we get to his chin. We can't put our finger on what the shape looks like for a few minutes, and then it comes to us. Adrian will be called, "Candy Corn". Honest to God, that head should have three stripes on it.

Lanson Tang (Potomac, MD)- Holy cow, there are so many Asians here, it's like a blackjack dealer's convention. Lanson's a tiny little bastard, with a mouthful of braces. He has the easiest nickname of the night- the kids and I all yell it at the same time.

"POON-TANG!"

Goddamn, I love my kids.

Julianna Canabal-Rodriguez (Mayaguez, Puerto Rico)- I'm so happy right now, I just crapped a little bit in my Underoos. I announce- "Gentlemen, please start your Puerto Rican jokes!" She has to stay in the competition for awhile. She'll be the "P.R. Cannibal".

Andrew Grose (Sheboygan, WI)- Well, lookie here- it's a white kid! Andrew looks like a less cool Michael Cera, and he has his khakis hiked up way too high. The kids and I see where he's from, and we all start doing impressions of Professor Frink from The Simpsons, which is an impression of a young Jerry Lewis. It's tough to describe, but phonetically it's something like:

sha-BOY-gun!!

So that will be his name- Sheboygan! It's kind of addicting- you should try it. Say it with me:

Lay-dee! Do you know how to get to Sha-BOY-gun!

You guys really need to start working with me on this shit.

Elizabeth Platz (Shelbina, MO)- One more white girl, and kids, she is really, really white. She has her blonde hair pulled back so far that she's sporting an "eight-head", and her teeth are pretty messed up. Elizabeth is about five years away from renting an apartment and living with 10 cats. It takes a few minutes, but we finally figure out who poor Lizzie looks like.

She's going to be called "Beetlejuice".


No shit- this is pretty close

Before we move on, I just wanted to mention one kid that didn't quite make the finals, but the kids and I wished to God that he had. We watched a little bit of the semifinals this afternoon, and there was this kid:




This is Nicholas B. Rushlow from Lancaster, Ohio. Boys and girls, this is one goofy little mother-ripper. Squeaky voice, fidgeted the whole time he was on stage, and just look at his hair. He would have been "Ginger Jew-Fro", and the jokes would have been just endless. We were just devastated when he went out. Oh well, maybe next year...

7:25- We're finally through with all the introductions, and it's time to spell some fuckin' words. As always, the moderator will be Dr. Jacques Bailey, who won the bee back in 1980 and is from here in Denver. I didn't know that until I Wikipedia'd his ass. With him is an unidentified priest who just silently sits there. Not sure what his function is, but it just opened a door to a whole new set of jokes. Here's one (I heard this recently):

What do priests and McDonalds have in common? They both stick their meat in ten year old buns. Ba-dum-bum. Thank you-I'm here all week.

You know, I'm not a Catholic, but I have to believe that they had a different legacy in mind than being known worldwide for their leaders molesting young boys. I'm almost sure I'm right on this. In case you're wondering, I'm a practicing Frisbeeterian. We believe that when you die, a smelly hippie throws your soul up on a roof, and it never comes down.

Anyway, they've changed the rules a bit so that the spellers can only ask three questions, like "Can you use it in a sentence?", or "What is the language of origin?".

Mike says, "The guys should use one of their questions to find out what a vagina looks like". Cracked me up. But come to think of it, I doubt that either Dr. Bailey or the priest dude knows the answer to that.

Okay- E.T., Picket Fence, and Ye Haw all get through their first words, and then PR Cannibal steps up. They stop everything for a moment, and run a little feature so that we can get to know PRC better. This is notoriously a giant Kiss of Death when they do this. They spend five minutes on the contestant, and then when they come back live, the speller chokes on the first word they get. Let's see if it happens again.

PRC loves to paddleboard in her native land of Puerto Rico, which basically is riding a big surfboard and steering with a pole. Sam says, "Hey, I'll bet that's how she got over to the U.S." She's also about two years away from having J-Lo's ass.

They return for her word, and sure enough, she completely butchers gyokuro, which is a Japanese green tea. This pisses off the whole room-we had so many more jokes. I had a whole West Side Story thing lined up, complete with dancing and choreography. Fuck-maybe next year.

She immediately bursts into tears, and collapses into the arms of her mom as she's leaving the stage. It's a very tender moment, until Mike says, "I'll bet that's going to be one sad float home." That one just killed me.

Next, Brown Harry Potter steps up, and he's wearing a wristwatch that is bigger than his whole head. Why do doinks wear such big watches? Is it so that they know exactly what time to masturbate while watching Battlestar Galactica? Well, he tanks huge on engysseismology (something about earthquakes). They keep showing his mom as he's struggling with the word, and she's getting more and more pissed as he tries to spell it. When the bell rings, signifying that he missed and he needs to immediately get his failed ass off the stage, she goes storming out of the auditorium with her sari in a bunch. You just know that he'll be going to bed without any curry tonight.

Next is Sheboygan, and he spells his word correctly. But as he turns around to head back to his seat, we notice that his khakis are riding all the way up his ass. I'll bet that priest just had a mild stroke when he saw that. We'll need to get him a drool bucket if the kid doesn't fix that problem.

CanAsian is next, and she goes out on confiserie, which is a French word meaning "candy store". She asked Dr. Bailey to use it in a sentence, and he said, "The French never bathe before they go to the confiserie, and they surrender on the way down there". Okay, I made that up. I just hate the fuckin' French.

Candy Corn gets his word right, and he speaks just like Keanu Reeves. I can't help but do a quote from my favorite guilty pleasure movie The Replacements, where Keanu plays a football quarterback. He looks around the huddle, and says, "Gentlemen, it has been an honor to share the field of battle with you". It may be the worst delivered line in the history of movies. I watch that piece of shit every time it's on.

Here comes PoonTang, and his voice is lower than James Earl Jones. No fuckin' way this kid is 14. It flashes on his bio that he aspires to be a game designer. Gee whiz, no shit? Whatever- Poony goes down on leishmanic (some kind of parasite), and he hits the road. He'll be touring with the Temptations this summer, doing the bass part in "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" (if you get that joke, you're really old).

Dr. Bailey says Beetlejuice's name three times, and she appears. You know, because that's what... happened in the movie. Jesus, do I have to explain everything? Try to keep up. It says her favorite book is the dictionary, and she and her brother have an extended Beanie Babies collection. Dear God, this girl is so screwed. She gets her word right, and sits down to contemplete her next 70 years of virginity.

7:50- Back from commercial, and they're showing all the spellers out on a little field day. I'll bet the SPF300 sunscreen was flowing that day- shit, half of those kids have never been outdoors. They're all wearing t-shirts with one letter on them, and they keep getting together to form words. Believe it or not, the kids and I had some suggestions for them:

HATE MY PARENTS

KILL ME NOW

PRIEST TOUCHED ME

7:55- So we're down to six. Picket Fence quickly spells his word again- he looks very confident. He's probably the favorite right now. E.T.'s pretty good too, plus she has the experience of having been there last year.

Uh oh, there goes YeHaw. She misses tailleur (woman's tailored suit), which pisses off her dad, Not Gay Mr. Sulu. He gives her that look, where he wishes he had a son instead of a daughter. Mike notices, and launches right into the Asian accent.

"Don't talk to me again until you doctor!" I spend the next two minutes crying in my easy chair.

Dammit, Sheboygan's out! He crapped the bed on aquinaldo, which is Puerto Rican Christmas music. No shit- that's really what it is. I have a quick conniption, because too many jokes enter my head at the same time.

Disappointed, he turns to leave the stage, and sure as hell, he still has that hungry ass going with his khakis. When he gets a few steps away, you hear this clanking sound. He turns to notice that the priest has thrown his hotel room key on the stage. This night might not end well for she-BOY-gan!

8:05- Everyone else got their word right, so we're down to four. They're dropping a lot faster than last year- I think they only lost one speller through three rounds in 2009. Looks like it's time to stretch things a bit to make sure they fill the two hours. Here comes a feature on Candy Corn.

The first thing he does on the feature is make a funny face, and Mike says that's what he looks like when he's jackin' off. The best thing on my TV is the ability to pause live shows, and I have to do that for a minute. Busted me up again.

They finish the piece (an Asian kid that likes math-stop the presses!), and right on cue, he misses his next word. Leaves out an "r" in terribilita (describing the awesomeness of Michaelangelo- the painter, not the Mutant Ninja Turtle). I think I'd pass if ABC wanted to do a feature on me- they might as well use the Grim Reaper as the reporter.

Beetlejuice comes back up, and they show her dad and her brother on the other side of the stage. They appear to be wearing matching capri pants (or they're just hiked up really high), and both are sporting sandals with socks. Bitchin'!

Beetlejuice smiles nervously, which is a bad idea. Her teeth look like she might possibly have scurvy. She gets the word rhytidome, which is the outer bark of trees. She asks Dr. Bailey to use it in a sentence. He says, "Your teeth look like you've been chewing on rhytidome". Even that doesn't help, and she bombs out in third place. Next stop- the Humane Society to pick up her cats.

8:15- Alrighty, kids, we're down to our last two spellers! I'll bet the ABC producers are having a little panic attack, because there are still 45 minutes left, and this is live TV. They probably have Erin Andrews changing into her Dancing With the Stars outfit right now (which is a terrific idea, by the way), and she'll be doing the Highland Fling with Dr. Bailey if this thing ends quickly.

So the survivors are Shantanu Srivatsu (Picket Fence), and Anamika Veeramani (ET). Standing together up on the stage, I'm half expecting them to break out in the song "Tally Ho" from Slumdog Millionaire. I come to the conclusion that I might possibly watch way too many movies.

(While we have a moment, can I just go off on a little bit of a tangent? Have you actually seen Slumdog Millionaire? Don't get me wrong- it's a very good movie, and probably deserved to win the Academy Award. And while it ended nicely, I spent the first hour and a half fighting the urge to blow my fucking brains out. Damn, if I want to be depressed, I'll just look in the mirror before I step into the shower, thank you very much. I don't want to spend $10 to feel like shit for three days. Okay, back to the spelling bee. Thanks for listening.)

They hold serve for a few words, but then Picket Fence opens the door when he misses ochidore, which is some kind of crab. Come to think of it, I got a case of the ochidores from a girl one time. I knew I'd seen that word before...

Now E.T. needs to spell her word, and then one more, and she will be the winner. She has no problem with juvia, which is the tree that yields Brazil nuts. Seems like a pretty easy word, under the circumstances.

Okay, here comes the final word: it's stromuhr. That's a meter that measures the flow of blood through arteries. See, if nothing else, you enhanced your vocabulary tonight. And not just with new swear words. You're welcome.

E.T's dad has a big smile on his face- looks like they've seen the word before. Oh, and did I mention that E.T. wants to be a cardiovascular surgeon? What a fuckin' break. She checks the word origin to make sure, then rattles it off easily to win the whole enchilada. That's a $30,000 enchilada, by the way.

The strange thing is that E.T. doesn't smile. Not even once. Makes you wonder whether she really wanted to do this, or if dad pounded on her to compete. I ask the boys their opinion. They talk it over and decide unanimously that they don't give a shit. I'm glad we cleared that up.

8:30- They return from one more commercial, and they're ready to present the trophy to E.T. Just like last year, the trophy is handed over by Dr. Richard Boehne, and just like last year, the kids and I wonder if the poor bastard had to go through life with people calling him "Dick Bone". We never got a good answer on that one.

So that's it for another year, boys and girls. This year was little bit disappointing, because so many contestants flamed out quickly, before we could really develop a nice running dialogue for them. But we still had a great time as usual, and look forward to the Miss Universe Pageant in August, where we'll all get together and crack on some international skank. Be sure to come back for that.

Now, if you'll excuse us, ABC is filling the other half hour with an episode of "Wipeout". People falling down for a half hour- that's about our speed.