Pro Bowls are Dumb

Eli Manning, Cam Newton, and Tony Romo are all ahead of Matt Stafford as Pro Bowl Alternates.

Matt Stafford
385-604 (63.7)
4518 yards
36 TD - 14 INT
And, for what it's worth, 10-5

Eli Manning
335-556 (60.3)
4587 yards
26 TD - 16 INT
8-7

Cam Newton
295-492 (60.0)
3893 yards
20 TD - 16 INT
6-9
(To be fair: 674 rushing yards, 14 TD)

Tony Romo
317-485 (65.4)
3895 yards
29 TD - 9 INT
8-7

Pro Bowls are dumb.

Live-Blogging a Church Service!

I mean, I'm not technically live blogging this shit, but I took extensive notes on the service tonight so that I could share them with you. I hope you're ready, because shit is about to get real. This is going to be, by far, my best contribution to the blog thus far. It is also the post that I hope our father never sees.

(Note: All times are approximate, as I don't wear a watch and did not take my cell phone. I also drank two bottles of wine with Randall between the service and now.)

11:01 p.m. - The service begins with a prayer. I am immediately taken aback by the superlatives used. I mean, I guess if you're an all-powerful god, it's to be expected, but lines like "you make this holy night radiant with your splendor," are tough for me to take.

11:02 p.m. - The first song of the night. I don't know that I ever realized how terrible of a singer our mother is. I have never claimed to be a good singer, but I mask my lack of ability by singing quietly and without much passion. Our mother, on the other hand, sings fairly loudly and absolutely refuses to sing the notes on the page. Instead, she tries to sing some sort of weird harmony that never matches. It's brutal.

11:10 p.m. - For the first time, the crowd (congregation) is asked to recite lines in unison. Is there anything more terrifying than a large crowd saying the same words in monotone? Honestly, just throw some inflection in there or you sound like a cult.

11:14 p.m. - RANDALLWATCH! Randall has his first speaking part of the day and he absolutely crushes it. He really made Isaiah 9:2-7 his bitch. Some parts of this reading sound like Spartacus lines ("You have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor. Every warrior's boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire."),while others sound like self-appointed titles for Kim Jong Il ("Wonderful Counselor" and "Everlasting Father."). On a side note, these predictions seem to focus quite a bit on Jesus's political implications. "...And the government will be on his shoulders...He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom." I don't seem to remember that happening.

11:19 p.m. - This song is really taking advantage of artistic license. "Who with the Father ever art and Holy Spirit, one." That is not English.

11:22 p.m. - I had a note in here to talk about serious religious issues, but I don't want to do that anymore. My main question was why Jesus dying helped anyone. Was there some back-alley bet with Satan about whether or not God could get his son to die? And the winner got humanity? Seriously, I need to know, my biggest problem with Christianity is that I don't understand why Jesus's life and death helped anyone out.

11:26 p.m. - RANDALLWATCH! After cruising through most of the first gospel reading, our father stumbles over the last sentence, "because there was no room at the inn." How will he bounce back?! Further notes on the reading: Caesar Augustus was a bold dude. "That all the world should be taxed?" Ballsy. Although America, the greatest country ever, would not have stood for this. No taxation without representation, Caesar! Also, was it a wise decision to drag a woman that is nine months pregnant across a desert? Theory: Jesus was a premature baby.

11:32 p.m. - At this point, it becomes a giant thank you to Jesus for coming to Earth as a baby in a manger. WHY?! Wouldn't it have been better if Jesus had come to Earth as a conquering angel like Tim Tebow? "You chose to be born an infant in time - praise be to you!" What am I missing? If Jesus came down, wrecked some people's shit with a flaming sword and than asked me to believe in him, you can bet your ass he would have my support.

11:35 p.m. - Randall bounces back with a strong performance in the second gospel reading. The program says "pleaser be seated" right before the reading, but the congregation, having done this before, knows that you stand for the gospel. No one sits. Also, they keep talking about the shepherds leaving to see Jesus. What about their sheep? Did anyone stay behind? Or did they just decide to fuck their careers?

11:38 p.m. - "Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart." WTF, Mary? You just gave birth to the savior of humanity and you're not pumped about this? What are you pondering? Get excited. Also, was there a reason Mary was chosen? Is this ever discussed? Was there a lottery? Were ping pong balls involved in this process?

11:40 p.m. - The line "Your eternal Word leaped down from heaven in the silent watches of the night," solves the abortion question. Life doesn't begin until your soul shoots down from heaven in the middle of the night during birth.

11:42 p.m. - A Ronald Hauser original carol.

11:45 p.m. - CELEBRATION MOTHERFUCKING HANDBELL CHOIR. It's not a church service at Immanuel until you get some hot handbell action. This happens during the voluntary, as I am sitting with mother and our grandmother, I realize there is a legit chance that I'll have to wave off the plate guy, I check my wallet and notice that I have $1. I fold it so that you can't see what it is before putting it in the tray. Side note: the big picture at the front of the church has Jesus looking very feminine,

11:50 p.m. - My worst, and most blasphemous thought of the night. The reverend says, "He comes to us quietly, with little fanfare," is read, and in my mind, is immediately followed by "like a rapist in the night." That's right. I think tahat Jesus "comes to us quietly, without fanfare, like a rapist in the night," I have a hard time not laughing for the rest of the service.

11:53 p.m. - More praise is lavished upon baby Jesus. I have to imagine that this was some kind of Look Who's Talking situation.

11:59 p.m. - The last reading is finished. The service is over. Or is it?! MORE HANDBELL ACTION IN YOUR MOUTH! MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!

Playoffs

I'm truly sorry that you couldn't be here for this Lions season. PLAYOFFS.

Christmas comes early

It's Christmas Eve. I was feeling pretty homesick this morning, especially since we were leaving the comfort of our friend Ismael's home to stay with a stranger in Bethlehem.

As luck would have it, that stranger is a gorgeous Palestinian news reporter. Score. Merry Christmas to me.

-Dogg

Pride

I'm in the Championship Game in both my work league ($450) and the Six Corners league ($350). In one league, I have Ryan Mathews and in the other I have Antonio Gates.

You'd better believe that I benched both of them. LIONS.

Recepticon.

"'Somebody threw a beer bottle at me, I heard,' [Burleson] said.

At least it wasn't full.

'No,' Burleson said. 'If it was full, I might have chugged it.'"

I'm giving this a "rampant alcoholism" tag for the fun of it.

I Sound Like You

I'll comment on your shit soon, but here's a brief little sample of what I wrote on Yammer (our company's internal Facebook), while trying to convince the rest of my team to spend our team money to take a limo to Medieval Times:

How much do you love honor?
How much do you love glory?
How often have you dreamed of being a king/queen?

All of these things can be yours, if you vote for a limousine to Medieval Times for our Sophos spiff! It will be an epic adventure (surely not for the faint of heart!), including (but not limited to): knights, dragons(?), mead and luxurie$.

How can you turn it down?! For a mere pittance, a luxurious chariot fit for royalty would pick us up from work and drive us to a land of enchanment known as Medieval Times, where our champion would fight for the glory of our house. There, we would gorge ourselves on the greatest haunches of roast meat that anyone can ask for. We will yell at other knights (or knaves, if you know what I mean!), and cheer our honorable man-at-arms on to ultimate victory (and we'll probably get like a dessert or something). You know you want to

I just had a horrible realization.

The Lions game on Christmas Eve will begin at 11:15 local time here. That is shortly after Midnight Mass begins at the Church of the Nativity. Katie's friend really pulled some strings to get us tickets (i.e., his uncle is the archbishop of Jerusalem).

On one hand, I have the once-in-a-lifetime chance to experience a Christmas Eve ceremony in Bethlehem, at the site of Christ's birth. On the other hand, the Lions can clinch a playoff spot for the first time this millenium. Will there ever be a more ridiculous/hilarious instance of a man checking his watch during church?

AM I GOING TO HAVE TO BIG-TIME THE ARCHBISHOP OF JERUSALEM?!

My friend Ismael went to school in Colorado. He's a Broncos fan. Even Muslims believe in Tebow!

Ndamukong Suh Beats Fans

There is an article about a New York Jets fan being beaten outside the stadium. This is an excerpt:

"New York Jets fan James Mohr, 28, was hospitalized and had to undergo surgery following a brutal beating by several Kansas City Chiefs fans who attended the game at MetLife Stadium. The assault on Mohr, a physical education teacher in New York City, came after the Jets' 37-10 win."

Terrible, right? But why am I posting this? Oh, because of what following IMMEDIATELY after that sentence:

"[Related: Remorse isn't part of Ndamukong Suh's playbook]"

So, yeah. Suh will beat fans into a coma and not care about it, apparently.

Runnin' Train

For comedy's sake, it's a shame that the Lions waived Brandon McDonald.

In reality, it really doesn't matter, because the only time he saw the field, he got burned and injured himself.

But let us never forget what brought him to the attention of the nation:
""Yessss, another piece of p**** fa da Browns secondary to run a train on. . . NoHomo . . . Let's Goooo!!!! ITS TRU."

I am in terrible drinking shape.

David,

After hearing your tales of debauchery in NOLA, I couldn't resist the urge to hit the sauce a bit myself. And, since last night I had a Skype date set with Logan and Abbie for 2 a.m. Brazil time, I had plenty of time to kill, and a full bottle of cachaca. So, for about four hours, I sat in my room, alternating between reading and playing Secret of Mana, all while drinking coffee mugs full of this Brazilian moonshine. By the time 2 a.m. rolled around, I was good and thoroughly drunk. This was confusing to me, as I'd only consumed about half my bottle. Then I realized that a.) I've been drunk only twice in the past two-plus months and b.) my diet for the day consisted of granola and bananas.

When I went into the main part of the pousada to get ready for my date, I was alarmed to discover that there was no Internet access. The late-shift worker directed me to the lobby computer, where I stared at Skype and tried to figure out how to use it. After 15 minutes, I managed to log in (by this point, my ability to type was almost nonexistent) and could not figure out what was going on for the life of me. This, of course, prompted strings of vulgarity, which of course prompted the late-shift worker to ask me what was wrong (I think). As he only spoke Portuguese, the next five minutes consisted of my pointing at the screen and making angry grunts and occasionally saying "nice fucking Internet," all while he stared at me, totally confused. In the end, technology defeated me, and I stumbled back to my room. I then proceeded to have another cup of cachaca, which I pounded in anger. Then, I laid down, which was a terrible mistake. I'm not sure for how long I'd been asleep when the need to vomit struck. So I jumped up and proceeded to try to open our door to the lawn, which was locked (you need a key to open it--I was obviously past the point of rational thought). So, I stood there like half-moaning "Please just open!" when Katie finally woke up and asked what I was doing. I told her of my intentions. She said "the bathroom is behind you, you know." I responded "...Oh. Yeah."

I got out of bed at 2 p.m. today.

Adam Martin Disinvite from Future Cabin Trips

Yesterday at Kelly's, Martin contended that Cypress Hill was the band responsible for Cowboys from Hell.

The immediate reaction centered around how upset you would be by this.

Upon further review...

My Lions blog from last night is one of the most rambling pieces of nonsense ever written.

Lions/Saints: 2nd Half

(1st half found below)

They just announced that Madonna will be the Super Bowl halftime performer. How many lumberjacks to I have to fuck to get GWAR to play at the Super Bowl? (Answer: at least 100,000. Probably all double anal.) Incidentally, Matt Leinart is sporting an amazing mustache. Why couldn't he have gone to Seattle, gotten the band back together with ol' Pete, and been the first mustachioed Super Bowl-winning QB in I don't know how many years? Well, other than the fact that he's not very good at football.

2nd half

• Another good run by Kevin Smith. He is like half the speed of Jahvid Best, which makes you wonder how bad Best's vision actually is, that I guy that slow makes entirely better runs than him.
• Nate Burleson and Calvin Johnson have to be the best stiff-arming combination of WRs in the NFL. Remember that great TD against Tampa last year? Oh, wait, nevermind. Nate grabbed the facemask. C'mon, man.
• Kevin Smith is just limping all over the place. He just straight fell down in the open field. How is he more productive than Jahvid Best (side question: how many yards would Best be gaining tonight).
• And...now Kevin Smith is officially out. 80 total yards. Lots of effort.
  
• Hyundai (maybe it was Honda) just had an advertisement with some middle-class white guys rapping about the assorted features (that I assume come standard) with the car. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Oh, yes I am. It was awful.
• Jeff Backus is starting his 173rd straight game. I don't care how you feel about him (I go back and forth, honestly), but that is awesome. Congrats, Jeff.
• Maurice Morris runs headfirst into the pile like he's the Module from TMNT, and he's going to drill through. It works, sort of, I guess.
• 3rd and 1 becomes 3rd and 16 because Titus Young throws a goddamn punch after the whistle. Field goal attempt. Again: C'mon, man. 24-10. Now, in one of life's great ironies, Dominic Raiola is yelling at Titus Young for making a stupid mistake in anger. I think Brett Favre used to criticize Aaron Rodgers for making dumb throws, too. (Just kidding; he criticized him for sending dick pics.)
  
• New show on NBC: Who's Still Standing?, a quiz show where a wrong answer gets you dropped through the floor. "Where do they go? Who cares!" (I hope it's into a pit of broken glass and medical waste.)
• I just realized that most of these commercials are probably old news to you. But, since I no longer watch television (or at least, American television), at least 80 percent of these ads are brand new to me. It's like the Super Bowl!
• Amari Spievey was just called "one of the fastest safeties in the game." I don't think that's even close to true. His lack of speed was highlighted as a reason for his conversion from CB. He's probably an average-speed S.
• Eric Wright should've just had an INT, possibly for six. Now the Leos have the ball on the 10 after the punt. So many small opportunities, so many small wastes.
  
• My host's son is watching the game with me now. It is very hard to explain football to someone who doesn't watch it, and speaks almost no English.
• Jeff Backus has the lowest winning percentage of any NFL player in history (.269 [min: 130 games]).
• Rashied Davis just had a huge catch. I was positive it was going the other way, and he got drilled. Best catch of the game.
• Great catch by Nate Burleson. Push off, Nate Burleson. C'mon, man. Nate, I love you! Stop doing this to me!
• Lions: 7 penalties, 58 yards. Saints: 0 penalties.
• 3rd and 14. Megatron is open, and underthrown. That is a motherfucking touchdown, Matthew. Does it seem like that's happened a lot?
  
• Illegal contact on the Saints. 1st down. What an absolute gift.
• Al and Cris discuss that the Lions might need to address the OL, and then describe Stephen Peterman as "the most consistent of their linemen." Look, just say you don't know anything about the Lions, and leave it at that, man.
  
• Touchdown, MoMo. Seven points. Let's see what Brees does here. Scheffler had some words with the Saints defender after his big catch. What do you think his TD celebration would be against NOLA? He already half-Tebowed, so praying is out. Do you think he'd act like he was carrying a cross (or doing something similarly holy), and then have one of his teammates murder him (thus making him a martyr), after which he would somehow mimic an ascent to Heaven?
  
• Cris just claimed that he had Greg Landry's football card (he was the Lions' last Pro Bowl QB). Unless you're prepared to launch into an extensive discussion of your theoretical card collection, I'm just calling bullshit. Show me the card, Cris.
• How long do you think it is until KVB gets replaced on the defensive line? LoJack and my nigga Willie Young are ready now. Vanden Bosch is a big reason for the resurgence, and I love him, but he is getting older, and he was never the best athlete to begin with.
• Stefan Logan just threw the ball at an opposing player. Is this a joke? What a crazy fucking thing to do. I'm not even that mad about it; it's so ridiculous it's kind of awesome, especially since Nate just caught a 46-yarder.
• 3rd and 12. Tipped at the line of scrimmage. Goddamn it. You have to at least gain some goddamn yards there, guys. Come on. Jason Hanson's 55-yard attempt is wide left. And, you take a gift from Nate (that should have been a touchdown, anyway), and just poop all over it. You just pooped everywhere. The ribbon is dripping with feces.
• Why is there a Pearl Harbor exhibit in New Orleans?
• I've been hearing Aaron Berry's name a lot tonight, and not in a bad way. Cris Collinsworth is saying the Lions drafted Spievey with the intention of converting him. I'm almost positive that's false.
• 3rd and 7 converted to Jimmy Graham. 1st down, 14 yard completion to Graham (wide open). Coverage is breaking down, here. They're in FG range. That FG block and the miss are really big right now.
• Our pass rush is goddamn pathetic right now. There is nothing. Cliff and KVB are invisible. After Fairley's injury, the interior hasn't collapsed a single pocket that I can think of.
  
• Touchdown, Saints. GOD MOTHERFUCKING DAMN IT. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.
• This commercial is advertising the new Droid as being self-aware. How is this acceptable? The apocalypse is among us, and we're packaging it, selling it, and laughing about it. Of course it's "too powerful to fall into the wrong hands." It's too powerful to exist! Skynet is among us! (Side note: the other night in Sao Paulo, I watched a movie called "The Brotha from Another Planet" starring the guy that played Miles Bennett Dyson, along with a who's-who of B-list black actors. It was riveting.)
• Small featurette highlighting the Lions' dumb mistakes. I am having an aneurysm.
• The Saints are just giving the Leos everything underneath. Not surprisingly. 8:30 left.
• Another push-off by Nate. His wily veteran tricks are really hurting us tonight.
• Blitz by the Saints, and MoMo drops the fucking pass. Are you kidding me, man. Are you kidding me. That was going 30 yards minimum.
• 4th and 13. Here we go. I am slowly slipping into the throws of depression. You are punting?! Are you losing your shit completely right now? Why the fuck are you punting?!
• The Lions jump off. Cris Collinsworth launches into a tirade about how the Lions don't have championship experience and the Saints do, and how calmly Brees got his five yards. The Lions don't have discipline, what have you. The referee then says the Lions got back onside. Collinsworth, trapped, refuses to agree with the ref.
• Collinsworth did just give The Ballhawk some props, so there's that.
• 3rd push-off by Nate. This is just inexcusable. Put Rashied Davis in or something.
• Personal foul by The Perfect TE. Something has to be done about this.
• 4th down. INT. Game. Thanks for playing. God damn it, they're so much better than this.
  

Lions/Saints: 1st Half

As I'm sure you're already blackout by this point, I'll try to keep a running blog of this game for you. What a role reversal!

• As I'm sure you already know, the Falcons, Giants, and Bears all lost today. This game is goddamn huge for the Leos.
  
• End-around to Titus Young for 10 on the Lions' first offensive play. Are they replacing Nate Burleson?!
• 3rd and 14: Kevin Smith, with the brilliant tip of the screen pass, which is dropped by Jon Vilma. Lady Luck is on our side tonight, baby! New Orleans ball.
• We often talk about how Suh has no fat on his body, which is surprising for a defensive tackle. Nick Fairley, by contrast, looks fat in every way, shape, and form. He has the fattest-looking face I've ever seen in a helmet. (Maybe not as much as Grady Jackson, though.)
• Amari Spievey can fucking stick. He may not be able to cover for shit (jury's out on that one), but damn, that guy lowers the shoulder.
• Eric Wright just saved a touchdown. Almost had a pick. What a solid pickup. (Martin Mayhew, ladies and gentlemen.)
• After a crucial 3rd-down encroachment gives them a short down and easy 1st down, Nick Fairley comes up big, and they force a FG. 3-0, Saints. Not a bad effort by the defense so far. Not great pressure, though, which has to worry you, with Chris fucking Harris starting at safety.
• Do you think Mercedes-Benz is sour over the fact that almost no one knows they're associated with the Superdome? Honestly, has anyone ever referred to it as the "Mercedes-Benz Superdome" in a non-professional setting? Meanwhile, Ford is obviously inseparable from Ford Field. You think Ford, you think of Calvin Johnson's huge rhinoceros penis. You think of Matthew Stafford donning a button-down flannel and taking you for a picnic on the beach, his long, luscious curls blowing in the wind as he opens a bottle of wine and tells you his true feelings for you...I mean, you know what I mean. That is name recognition at its finest!
• Big gain to Calvin negated by illegal formation (Titus Young). Jesus Christ, man. You are a fucking professional football player. Nevermind, he just made a third-down conversion. Forgiveness is yours.
  
• They really keep talking about Stafford's health. I wish they would stop doing that. Do you think Shaun Hill taught Stafford to throw without his index finger? You know I love that Shaun Hill can do that. It's one of my favorite facts about him. I mean, if you give Stafford some gritty veteran gamesmanship on top of that cannon for an arm, mad scientist-like football IQ, and those delightful golden locks, that you want to just run your hands through and bury your face in. What do you think his hair smells like? Bananas? Leather? Chocolate? I bet it's mangos.
  
• JESUS CHRIST. Third-down conversion negated by a holding call on Kevin Smith, who gets back to the 40 on the next play to force a punt. (The punt, meanwhile, is downed inside the five. Ben Graham, you are earning Nick Harris' jersey!)
• Al and Cris are talking about the smart play of John Wendling on that punt. He got pushed out of bounds, and wisely didn't touch the ball first. What a gamer! Are we talking repeat Pro Bowl bids?!
  
• Nick Fairley is all over the place, but I'm pretty sure he will suffer a heart attack after his 23rd play of the game. (Odds of that are unofficially set at 13:1). End of the 1st.

2nd Quarter:

• On the preview for The Adventures of Tintin, a young boy is knocked out cold with an oar. This is portrayed comically. How does this jibe with the NFL's emphasis on reducing concussions?
• War Horse. A movie about a horse's journey. Sadly, it is not set in medieval Europe, so my level of interest is slightly less than it is for The Adventures of Tintin. Perhaps you get the inner monologue of the horse? What would that even be? "These oats taste like shit. Man, I hope I don't get shot. God, I'm running again?!"
• 3rd and 4: Lions lose a great field position opportunity by Brees completing a bomb to Meachem. Not bad coverage by Berry. Not that it matters. First down near midfield.
• One of the referees has been injured and taken out of the game. One would expect this benefit a team that enjoys taking penalties as much as the Lions. But sadly, this has not affected the number of penalties.
• Nick Fairley has been taken to the locker room. Are you shitting me. They're looking at his foot. Give me a fucking break. There is no pressure coming, even from the DEs.
  
• Cris Collinsworth just dropped a Gorgeous George reference, and then yelled at Al for "not keeping up."
• Touchdown, Mark Ingram. God fucking damn it. Fuck you, New Orleans. How the fuck is Fairley hurt again. GODDAMN IT.
• How can Eli Manning be expected to boost sales of anything, let alone high-end watches? Maybe pet food. Safety harnesses for children with special needs, perhaps. (Side note: Are those real?) Come on, though, tell me you see that face and think, "There's a sharply-dressed man with an eye for keen fashion. I want to emulate everything about his style."
• The bubble screen to Burleson was just stopped before it happened. There had to be a key the Saints found, because that was some precognition shit.
• Kevin Smith just converted a 3rd and 17 on a screen pass, somehow. Good patience by K. Smoove on that one. It's his best asset. And now he's pulled up lame. Sweet!
• Fairley is back. X-rays negative. His return is questionable.
  
• Stafford just got absolutely drilled on a short 3rd down failure(they wanted Scheffler, but the Saints again seemed to know exactly where they were going). That was one of the worst shots I've ever seen him take. He went airborne on it. Good Lord.
• The profile picture of Suh they're showing looks like a mug shot.
• 2nd and 1. Maybe you should look for a pass here. Nope. How about a 67-yard touchdown, with Eric Wright being awful at tackling. Forget what I said earlier. Jesus Christ, you fucking cocksuckers. Make a show of it, at least. God fucking damn it. GODDAMN IT ALL, you fucking fucks.
• I've had to take myself downstairs to prevent my silent swearing from waking our hosts. On the plus side, they've got this delicious tapioca pudding-style dessert that I am just absolutely destroying.
• Linehan is calling a lot of misdirection passes and bubble screens and shit. There will be a deep ball to Calvin soon if this keeps up. Meanwhile, Nate-O and MoMo are good on the short end.
• Touchdown, Kevin Smith. Still a really good story.
  
• The Saints just put like 45 guys on Calvin on the goal line. I think Sean Payton threw a crutch at him after the snap.
• Calvin Johnson is starting to enter small-time Brett Favre territory, where the smallest accomplishment merits the most fawning praise by the announcers. I love it, as I love Calvin with every fiber of my being. But, let's pull back a little bit, Cris Collinsworth. Stick to what you're good at: making obscure pro wrestling references. (For what it's worth, said reference was that the Saints WR pulled a "souffle" move on Eric Wright on the interference call. I don't even know what that fucking means.)
• Are there actual demons in the new Sherlock Holmes movie?!
• Bank of America took a risk on a small family with a hot dog cart. What loyalty. It took them months to give me a credit card.
  
• Touchdown, Lance Moore. Seriously, Lions. GET FUCKING REAL. Perfect throw by Breeze, and a great catch. But GOD DAMN IT, FUCK YOU, SAINTS.
• The "Mayhem" commercial just described a perfect Christmas tree as "like making love to a lumberjack." That sounds like it would be more sweaty and filled with huge pubic hair to me. I don't want my living room to smell like a fat man's hairy asshole.
• Holy shit. Titus Young just caught a ball down to the 20. What happened there? (Drew Stanton sighting number one.)
  
• Could've gotten The Perfect TE on the try for the end zone. Good play call. Had room, and you overthrow him. Bad throw, Matt. Come on. Need that against the Saints. And, Hanson's FG attempt is blocked. You have got to be fucking shitting me. How do you get no points out of a gift like that.
• This Web feed is brought to you by somewhere in Arkansas. Thanks, Arkansas.
  

Women in cults

As I wrote on my other blog, a lot of the volunteers (and participants) in this place are attractive. Can I pull a Mac from Sunny ("Charlie Gets an Abortion") and lie to convince a cult follower to have sex with me?!

You Know I Need It

1) I need you to buy me a pair of white pants. If nothing else, this is what I need to commemorate your trip.

2) Pulitzer, not Pullitzer. Just because the people you're around don't speak English doesn't mean you have to regress.

I am in a town run by a cult. And there are spies all around me.

Dave,

We've arrived at the small town based around Casa de Ignacio, where the faith healer and his ilk work their magic. You are required to wear all white to any sessions featuring these people. The first pair of white pants(!) I looked at was 38 Reais (about $24).

I really want to get deep into this and win a Pulitzer for my investigative journalism. As such, I am taking on a very spiritual and reverential appearance for all of my dealings this week. I'm fairly certain that the townsfolk are used to weed out skeptics, and I don't want to be exposed.

I'd tell you to pray for me, David, but there's enough prayer to go around here.

-Doggins

A Quick Thankgiving Recap

Here are some things that you missed by being a selfish asshole and nto being home for Thanksgiving:

1) This actually came the day after Thanksgiving, but I feel it was the most important event. Mother took everything (turkey, stuffing, potatoes, gravy) and, instead of making all of us pull out forty different containers to make some food, she put them together in one pan and made some sort of Thanksgiving leftover casserole. It was amazing, and to be honest, it was more or less an exact replication of your traditional Thanksgiving plate.

2) God damn it, Lions.

3) "Ben, I've got a friend that wants to take Pat Lynch home tonight, but we need to get Dave Tomke away from him first."

4) I got lost somewhere in the South End after attending a house party where I knew about two people. This came after the Green Hut had already closed. I ended up walking home while eating a 7-11 deli sandwich at about 4:30 a.m.

5) I stole your winter coat (which, technically, you stole from Kelly's). Thanks?

We Did It!

Your picture is up at www.tebowing.com. I think I won a free t-shirt.

Kevin Smith?!

I don't know if you're able to watch the game today, so please refer to the header of this post for a quick, two-word summary (halfway through the fourth).

I had your souvenir picked out, but it was quite expensive.

Traveling, Dave-style.

Hey, brother,

I know how your intimate knowledge of your own mortality and unreasonable fear of foreigners works against you exiting the borders of the good ol' U.S.A., but the other night, I had a truly Dave Tomke-esque travel experience.

I went out to meet the Brazilians I'd met earlier that day. They suggested I come meet them at their hostel for a few drinks. The name of said hostel was "Loki," so right away I had a good feeling about things.

First of all, the hostel itself if goddamn gigantic. I'm pretty sure it takes up damn near a city block. But, the bar in the hostel is what truly distinguishes it. Every night, the bartenders are different, as the hostel grants free room and board to any travelers who volunteer to tend bar for anywhere from one to seven nights (I believe there's an application process involved). But, the rules of the bar seem dependent on the bartenders that night. During my brief stay at Loki, the bartenders were pounding shots, grabbing random bar patrons (mostly women wearing short skirts) and having them dance up on the bar in front of me, and in once instance, vaulting over the bar to tackle some dude.

There were no rules, David. So, with a bit of bartending experience, you could come to Cusco and have the week of your life. Think about it.

Mispronunciation for comedic effect

The other morning at breakfast, I asked for "te (tea) de anis" by saying "te de anus."

No one laughed but me.

I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while, brother. I have one coming (probably tomorrow) with my thoughts on how the Inca civilization was so goddamn metal.

Alas, with Katie out doing her "spirituality" and "being a good person" thing, I have to go party with some Brazilians. Perhaps that can be a topic for another post, as well.

That was Quick

Timely Request

Hey bud,

I'll write a whole post on the Lions/Bears game, but in the meantime, you need to do something for me.

I was checking Tebowing.com and, no shit, this was the top post:
"Just realized that we’ve had image submissions from 7 of the 8 New Wonders of the World. We just need one from Machu Picchu!"

Make this happen.

Haters will Hate

People are back to hating on the Lions. I am okay with this.
(In case you can't tell due to size, that's the "experts'" picks for the Lions/Bears game on Sunday.)

People are retarded.

Hey, brother.

So, Katie had some old photos of her trip to Kenya from four years ago. She just posted them on Facebook. The same people (for the most part, I assume) who were liking and commenting on her Costa Rica and Colombia statuses are now liking and commenting on these Kenya pictures. No one has bothered to ask how we departed South America and spent like two weeks in Africa, all in the span of 36 hours. To be honest, I'm not sure they even know that Colombia and Kenya are on two different continents.

People are retarded.

In the warrior's code, there's no surrender.

David,

I know you worry about me, so I must inform you that I am not yet in Peru. Our flight was overbooked, so Katie and I graciously accepted the airline's offer of a free hotel stay, a couple meals, and a $300 travel voucher (although it's only good for Latin America, for the most part).

I was holding my bowl of Cocoa Krispies (mistakenly labeled as "Rice Krispies"--get your shit together, Habitel) this morning and waiting for my made-to-order omelet when Survivor's "Burning Heart" came on the speakers. (I realize you probably already know this from Facebook.) Needless to say, I started doing pushups and glistening with sweat.

Our hotel room has wireless Internet. Why does it seem like hotels in the States don't, for the most part? Even our shitty Panama City hotel had WiFi. Perhaps the U.S. should have a brutal stretch of history with drug wars and civil conflict.

That's about it. I went to bed five hours ago, so I'm going to get more sleep.

-Doggins

My Sweet Boy!

These (and every other) are the days that I truly miss you.

We have a makeup game for kickball today (Sunday) at 3:15. Needless to say, we are having everyone over to our new apartment for brunch and drinks. Keehner, Vince and I started drinking immediately after waking up and were joined quickly by Ted and Martini (who had also been drinking since waking up). Then, Brandon's neighbors (Molly, Amanda and I'm assuming Jenny shortly) joined up. Tanitah joined the party and my sweet D.O. is on the way.

The reason I am writing this is because they are making fun of me for my three Conan posters. I don't understand. If a man doesn't have a poster for Conan: The Barbarian, Conan: The Destroyer and the Conan: The Barbarian re-make, is he truly a man? I think this is like the tree falling question.

Either way, I love you and I need you in my vision soon. Please cancel your trip.

Love,
Dave

I'm so sorry, brother.

Timmy Chang's record was broken tonight. I know the noose is already tied, but please don't step off the chair.

Correcting Your Shit Worldwide

Because I can't comment on your "normal" blog, I'm forced to do it here.

"Dolce Gabbana sunglasses," Chris? Dolce and Gabbana.

Be a real person.

Buenos dias, hermano.

I'm sitting here at the conference on international youth volunteerism. So far, it's been an opportunity for people to exchange e-mails and chat about their respective volunteer projects. As I don't have the latter, I graciously give out the former, particularly to any female Colombians that ask.

I will just say this: Colombian women know what's up. They are killing--and I mean killing--every other country's women so far. Not literally, of course, but they all range from reasonably attractive to gorgeous, and spend a good amount of time preparing their looks. American women are slobs by comparison. Tell Margeaux I said that. Step your game up, U.S. Of course, they all also speak with the accent I love so much. What a wonderful country.

As I have no business cards, phone number, or permanent address (not to mention no volunteer organization), networking is proving difficult here. So, I mostly work on my Spanish with pleasant Colombian folks and try to explain to them why Detroit is better than New York City. I've dropped at least 30 statements about the Lions en Espanol.

I'm coming to learn that apparently the ability to get along with crazy old dudes runs in our blood. I befriended a dude named Jaime (of course, his name was a selling point) yesterday. He's in his 60s, probably, and spent like 15 years in the U.S. Army in Panama, so I know he's loyal to the Stars and Stripes. Anyway, also obviously speaks some English. During one of our group breaks, another guy performs a hip-hop singing act (rather well, I would add) titled "Revolutionary Love." My companion Jaime says (and I can't mimic in text, but think of Jesus in The Big Lebowski) "Amor, eh? Someone es getting focked tonight!"

It was awesome.

Love,

Doggins

I'm So Sorry

Chris,

I know you were upset about missing the Lions this year. I can only imagine how much more upset will be when you find out that you will also be missing NICKELBACK'S PERFORMANCE AT HALFTIME OF THE THANKSGIVING GAME AGAINST THE PACKERS.

That's right. The Lions are finally relevant, playing an undefeated team, and motherfucking Nickelback will be there.

God damnit.

Don't Tell Me What to Do

First off, you don't get to tell me what to do. You, who betrayed and abandoned me, are the last person that should presume to do such a thing. But because I am a charitable and magnanimous man, I will ignore this affront and write something anyway. Because I want to, though, not because you told me to.

I am writing this from my newly-constructed business nook, which consists of a bookcase and a computer desk situated in the front of our apartment, where a bank of windows overlooks historic Josephinum Academy. It is pretty sweet, and I am very much enjoying it. I'm actually enjoying our apartment as a whole. The only downside is that my room is pretty small and I have to hunch to get into my closet, but that's the price I paid in order to lock down this sweet pad.

Ted, Brandon and Vince are all here now (I started writing this about an hour ago) and we have started writing a brand new movie script (following up the award-winning That's the Ticket!) entitled Year of the Witches (not to be confused with Nic Cage's Season of the Witch, although we're going to try and get Nic Cage involved). General premise is, once again, based on facts: Ted and I get cursed by the witches from Hocus Pocus at midnight on New Year's Eve, 2011. Then, we go through the entire year, constantly bumbling through misadventures due to the curse. And then we end it one year later? I'm not sure, we've haven't gotten past the basic premise.

We have cable and internet in our place now, and it's about a million times better than our old apartment, which is pretty awesome. I would keep writing, but with all of these boys over here now, I've got to let you go. We'll talk about Halloween in another post, if you're lucky.

I know you have the day off. Write something.

David,

As you know, the Lions definitively disproved the existence of God yesterday by humiliating Tim Tebow in Denver. One could argue that "maybe God is a Lions fan," but Jon Kitna is no longer the quarterback.

I know from the interwebs that you don't have work today. I assume you're going to do laundry, lay around hung over, and maybe eat some sort of microwavable food. Why not contribute something of value to society by writing on this blog? Sometimes, we are actually funny, and the commoners do so love to hear of your adventures.

-Dogg

I am a good person (part 2 of ?)!

My startling realization of the day: All these presentations of human trafficking are giving me way too much inspiration for Beast Warrior.

That is all.

For PR purposes, I won't go into last night.

But you'd better be ready for the first of (I imagine) many good stories I will tell at the next annual dude retreat. I miss you boys.

Congratulations on your first (right?) kickball home run. I'm swelling up with pride like a father whose son just took his first steps. If you keep practicing (and drinking excessively), perhaps someday you will reach the Chris Tomke level of achievement. My lifetime stats include three home runs. Boom. I am relishing the thought of kickball teams engaging in a bidding war for my services upon my (theoretical) return. Whoever doles out the most drinks and sexual favors will likely be victorious in gaining my skill and unbridled passion.

Side note, because I just thought of this: We were in Belize about 10 days ago, and were hanging out with some Jesuit volunteers. Good people. Anyway, during that time, one of the girls decides she's going to have the group create a haiku, unbeknowst to us. So, out of nowhere, she asks me to give her a five-syllable phrase. My immediate response is "One...two...BUCKLE IT!" I thought you would enjoy that.

Yeah, I caught the Lions game. Regarding Stafford, it's true he hasn't looked great the last two weeks (not that I saw the SF game), he's definitely not getting any help from the line, and he's still not turning the ball over much. I think he'll be fine. If Recepticon doesn't drop that pass in the 4th quarter, maybe they come back and score, anyway.

I am sad to hear that my apartment has become a hub of feminine activity. What a sad state of affairs when the sounds of girlish gossip replace those of our historically insensitive battle-rapping. I don't want to talk about boys; I want to spit verses about how genocide is an appropriate solution to life's problems. However, regarding cooking and drinking fruity drinks, I did that kind of stuff all the time. I guess it was okay though, because I normally had metal blaring while I did it. Cooking a delicious meal: Way more masculine if "Raining Blood" is playing.

If my hosts have anything to say about it, the odds favor you being harmed more. Everyone is incredibly nice, and it's awesome getting free room and board and delicious meals, but they fret about us constantly. We are staying in the safest neighborhood around San Jose. Weird. I guess that comes with traveling with Katie, though. No one wants to be responsible for harm coming to Miss Michigan. Me, they're probably indifferent about.

On a side note, there are no guns out in the open in San Jose. How am I supposed to feel safe?!

Central America: Where the nature is beautiful, and the cities kind of suck. (Although San Jose is actually pretty cool.)

Love,

Dogg

Revelations

Holy shit! Did you know that Kip Winger played bass for Alice Cooper?!

Equal Parts Busy, Drunk and Lazy

I am so sorry that I worried you, my boy.

As the headline suggests, my time has been consumed by work, drink and general lounging (which is much more time-consuming than one might think). I will try my best to maintain some sort of consistent posting from here on, so that you don't have to worry about my safety. It really gets back to our discussion as to who is more likely to die (or come to serious bodily harm) during the next year: you (by traveling the world and being in generally dangerous situations) or me (by drinking more than is recommended or safe).

The Passion Tsunami lost 9-7 this past week, although if you take out the first inning (which you can't), it was like 7-4. Or something like that. Look, the score doesn't matter, because I kicked a goddamn home run. And I realize that if we had an official scorer, or this was baseball, it would have been scored a triple with an error, but THIS IS KICKBALL. HOME RUN. Unfortunately, our team continues its tradition of not knowing the rules or generally having a knowledge of sports, so we lost. You know I only play for the personal statistics, though. I'm holding out for a lucrative contract in the offseason, and if Brandon doesn't show me the money, I am out of there.

The Lions also lost, unfortunately. I think you saw the game against the Falcons, so I really don't need to go into much details. Stafford is back practicing, despite the injury, but he really needs to step his game up. Him and the offensive line have looked bad. So has the defensive line to be completely honest. They can't stop the run, and everytime they do, it's a penalty.

I visited your sweet Squeaks and Olmsted on Monday, just to verify that they are still alive. They are, but they also mourn for you. We all do. I also got a haircut while I was up there, and Colleen tried to give me a shot, but I didn't want one. Now that I think about it, your apartment seems much less dude-like without you. I mean, Squeaks and Olmsted were there, but they were outnumbered by females (not counting Brandon and I). Colleen, X were all there, doing distinctly feminine things (drinking fruity drinks, gossipping, cooking), and it really set me aback. I need Spartacus to start up so I can go there and just see dicks. So many dicks (and blood).

I got pretty ham-jammed on both Friday and Saturday evenings in the town of East Lansing. I don't know if you caught the Michigan State-Wisconsin game, but if not, you should do some research. When they caught that hail mary at the end of the game, shit got wild. I didn't go to State (as I hope you know), but I still partied like it. The shots were flowing, and thanks to our connect at the bar, I barely had to pay anything for them. Needless to say, I indulged. At the tailgate on Saturday, I came perilously close to fighting a girl. She poured a drink on my head for no reason (seriously, I didn't even say anything to her!) and then ran away. After that, I tried to fight her husband, but he was not up to the task, plus Arj didn't want me to. Arj is a man of peace, as you well know.

Anyway, my lunch break is up, so I should probably get back to work. Just know that I need you!

Dave

I do so hope for your safety.

My dearest David,

Have I angered you in some way? Have the Lions' losses so infuriated you that you are unable to communicate? It has been nearly a week since your last post, and I do so miss your hazy recollections of the previous night's escapades. Please write soon, for winter approaches, and I would like to know that you are not face down in a ditch somewhere (or, if you are, in which case I will at least have closure). My brain is far too focused from lack of partying, so I must party vicariously through you. I need you, brother.

I am speaking so much Spanish and seeing so many shapely Costa Rican women. Many of them are young mothers! Mamacitas!! I secretly hope that in private, our Spanish-speaking companions refer to me as "El Gringo Grande." I am a head taller than everyone. They wouldn't even know what to do with themselves if Dave Olmsted came down. He would be worshipped as a god. A god!

In other news, my diet of fresh fruits and vegetables (and lack of alcohol) has caused my daily bowel movements to become thrice-daily bowel movements, and they are all what famed character actor Chris Noth would describe as "religious, euphoric experiences." (He underwent the same thing in Turkey.)

How is the Passion Tsunami?! I must have word of your victories upon the field of battle. Send word by raven as soon as you can.

Love,

Dogg

A riddle

If you take three craps in the span of 90 minutes, but they're all large and solid, is it still considered diarrhea?

I am the storm god.

Hey, Brother,

Do you know that when you Google the name of this blog, the first results are lyrics to "Everything Zen" by Bush? I'm pretty sure you owned a Bush album at one point, because that band is awful, and you used to have awful taste in music (as opposed to me, who was rippin' it up to Godsmack and taking life to the max!).

Anyway. It has been raining almost the entire time I've been in Central America. Nowhere have the effects been felt more than in El Salvador, where we are now in the 10th (I believe) straight day of rain. As of yesterday, they'd gotten like 54 inches in the past eight days. Entire groups of people (i.e., the poor) have been forced to evacuate their homes due to the flooding. Our bus trip here took an extra two hours because of landslides closing down major roads. Clearly Central America has angered the gods. There must be a blood sacrifice, provided it's not me.

You'd really enjoy where I'm staying. It's in the U.S. compound, next to the American school (at which our hosts teaches). So, inside our little bubble, it's entirely Americans, except for the maids and janitors, which is a little bit ridiculous. The maid just woke me up to come do laundry. I don't even know how she got here, with the flooding. Thankfully, my Spanish is improving, by which I mean I'm no longer uncomfortable not knowing what the fuck anyone is saying. As long as you smile and kind of laugh after every broken sentence, Salvadoreans are totally cool with you! U.S.A.! U.S.A.!

That's all for now, brother. I may or may not be in Costa Rica tomorrow. We'll see how the gods decide.

-Doggins

Travel Drinking

My sweet boy,

I just got Internet for the first time in like three days. I had no idea how the Lions or Tigers did until about an hour ago. Man, ol' Jimmy really did fly off the handle, there.

We're now in San Salvador, which is like all other major Central American cities thus far: If you value your possessions and/or personal safety, don't go walking around. We've been on a bus for what seems like three days. On Thursday, we'll be riding another bus for 17 hours to Costa Rica, which I assume will be filled with beaches, rainforests, fruity drinks, and beautiful Central American asses covered in cocoa butter.

I'm very tired, and I'm crashing momentarily. I promise I'll write something with more wit and substance tomorrow morning. Heart!

-Doggins

Hindsight

Things you should do between a Tigers ALCS night game and an undefeated Lions morning game:
          1) Sleep
          2) Drink fluids
          3) Eat something

Things you should not do between a Tigers ALCS night game and an undefeated Lions morning game:
          1) Go to Excalibur with Olmsted while Colleen is working until 4 a.m.

Details to follow after today's victory by the Lions.

My love of street food has dangerous consequences.

David,

I had a solid bowel movement today. It was the first such bowel movement I've had in five days.

That is all.

Go Tigers.

Love,

Chris

Tigers Lose - Ron Washington Also Loses

Because the Tigers losing wasn't enough shit in the first place:

Those words of praise probably don't resonate with Napoli as much as manager Ron Washington's tribute to his game. "Mike Napoli -- I call him a dirt bag, because that's the way he plays," Washington said.

Mike Napoli is actually good at baseball, so he should resent this.

Taking advantage of strangers' kindness and local products: Tips for the traveling drinker

David,

The Lions' 5-0 start has effectively shrunk my pants to child-size. Is there a greater human being in football than Calvin Johnson?! Probably not! Is there a greater defensive end in football than Willie Young?! Probably!

I'm glad to hear you celebrated the Lions victory among like-minded individuals, but I think that violates the spirit of Tomke sports antagonism. I suffered the insults of Bears fans for too long to barricade myself in a Detroit bar while the Lions dropped dick. So, instead, I left the country, where literally no one gives a shit about American football. (On a side note, I met some friendly Canadians who were avid Saskatchewan Roughriders fans.) Moving on...

Traveling on a budget is hard, particularly when you enjoy the food and drink as much as we do. However, when you're visiting a region in which rum is a local export, why not take advantage of the cut-rate prices? You're supporting local businesses, experiencing exotic local products, and if you have no standards regarding your mixer, you can get a buzz on for next to nothing!

Katie and I went out to Caye Caulker this past weekend. It's essentially an island getaway, and as some would call it, "touristy." When compared with Belize City, I assume "touristy" is synonymous with "clean," "safe," and unfortunately "expensive." Not to worry, though: Before boarding our water taxi, we had the foresight to buy our supplies in the city. So, we purchased a fifth of Traveler's Rum for the price of $11 BZ ($5.50 US), along with some packets of Tang ($0.58 BZ/0.29 US), and with the water taken from the surprisingly clean taps, we were off to the races (of drunkenness)!

Speaking of Tang, Central American countries have an uncanny fascination with the shit. We selected our packets from among a dozen or so different flavors (our selections: Mango, Strawberry-Orange), but the aforementioned Canadians told us that in Mexico, there are entire aisles with nothing but Tang. It's a cornucopia of artificial flavor!

Other than that, it definitely benefits you be around people who also drink, and are sympathetic to your budgetary issues. For instance, we're currently in the capital of Belmopan, staying with Katie's friends Joan and Andy (who are awesome people, incidentally). When we pulled up yesterday, Andy and his boys were drinking and playing Dominoes. Immediately upon saying hello, Andy offered me a beer. It was barely past noon, but who am I to turn down an offer of such generosity? That beer turned into another three or four, which then turned into a couple fifths of rum. Total cost: $0.

Anyway, I don't know what else to write here that I won't write in my other, more respectable blog. Go Lions.

-Doggins

5-0

My sweet, sweet boy:

Nights like last night are when I truly miss your presence. You would have been so passionate during the Lions game! And I am not willing to rule out that your passion would have single-handedly turned the tide in the Tigers/Rangers game.

We'll start off with a brief rundown of the Tigers game before moving onto what you must be waiting for. Really, all you need to know about the Tigers game is that, in a game tied 3-3 in the ninth inning with two outs, Gene Lamont held up Santiago at third (from first) on a double into the right-field corner by 2012 All-Star Don Kelly ("It's like they have a net out there!"). What gets me the most about this is that HE EFFECTIVELY TOOK HIS BEST HITTER OUT OF THE GAME by doing this. Cabrera was batting next, but they're obviously going to walk him with first open. If you send Santiago, he might score, and even if he doesn't, you're going to get Cabrera to bat in the ninth. But no, let's not give him a chance. Fuck you, Gene Lamont. The Tigers lost.

You know who didn't lose? THE LIONS. Because they don't ever lose. Seriously? Nine straight wins? Boner jamz.

I watched it with Brandon, Ted and Malinovich's crew at the Tin Lizzie. It was the first time I've watched a game at a "Lions bar," and I'm not going to lie, I had a great time. I was really hollerin' after every play (as was everyone). My passion reached true Chris Tomke-levels when I was standing on my chair at the bar leading Gridiron Heroes after Jahvid Best's 88-yard TD run (longer than any Barry Sanders run, oddly enough). The Tomke passion inspired the bartender to give me multiple free shots, including a Goldschlager to end the night, which I am still tasting today, unfortunately.

Seriously, though, it made me miss you, bud. I know how much you'd be enjoying this Lions run.

I greatly desire a hammock and a big fruity drink.

David,

First, let me clear up any confusion by saying that yes, I would without a doubt skip a kickball game (non-playoffs) to watch Game 5 of the Tigs-Yanks. Who thought I wouldn't? Ted? Dunkleman? I bet it was Dunkleman.

Katie has really been the star of the show this week in Belize, but last night was my time to shine. After pallin' around with the Department of Justice and learning about how the Belizean government and police are corrupt as the dickens (and boy howdy, they sure are!), we arrived back in Belize City. Abigail (our host) and her friends took us to the Bird's Isle Restaurant and Bar yesterday evening. They're all middle to upper-middle-aged women; Katie and I are by far the youngest. Up to this point, I've mostly been quiet, polite, and generally low-key, so they have no fucking clue what's about to hit them. When my first pelvic thrust pops in their direction, they know who the real performer is. After my stirring rendition of Rebel Yell, a group of shitfaced Navy guys (U.S.A.! U.S.A.!) gives me raucous applause and at least six high-fives. An Aussie makes a point to shake my hand.

Step your game up, Dave Olmsted, because I'm taking this shit international.

You'll find that a lot of Sam and Lillian's friends will be foreigners, and probably Asian. It's in your best interest to just break off contact altogether at this point.

Anyway, I'm kind of stuck in Belize City right now, which sucks. Can't really go out at night to explore, because it's poor as shit, and I'll probably get mouthraped by 20 dudes. So, I'm pretty much staying in and waiting to take a boat out to an island tomorrow, at which point I will lay on a hammock and drink some sort of rum-filled concoction. I guess I'm experiencing the "real Belize," but I would really enjoy the fake one at this point. America!

Robot Update

Just to piss you off, Chris: Erik Coleman is having a Twitter conversation with the Fox Sports Robot (Cleatus).

You're welcome.

Dave Olmsted has moved on

Dave Olmsted took me out on a date to Kelly's yesterday. It was romantic for about two hours until Sam and Lillian showed up with an international gang and ruined it. Of course, the only option at that point was to start doing shots and go to the Corners with Roderick (which I did).

The Tigers play tonight in Game 5 against the Yankees with Fister (hardly even know her!) on the mound against Ivan Nova. Passion Tsunami is a little upset that I am skipping our kickball game to watch it. I maintain that you would do the same thing and there was a little debate over it. So let's clear that up: would you skip kickball to watch an elimination game in the playoffs?

Nachofest is this weekend, too. Ted and I tried to book the Governor's Suite at the Marriott in downtown East Lansing (the most luxurious room in all of East Lansing!), but unfortunately, it was already booked (probably by the governor). Keehner and I have discussed having a velvet rope section with a couch for our VIP keg this year and I fully support this. I had Keehner text one of the dudes that now runs Nachofest about getting me a party package and the response was, "We already have one for him. #obvious." This may be my last one if Joe can't make it. Once it gets down to me and Arj, it's time for me to bow out gracefully. Everyone knows that Arj will be the last man standing in anything related to being in the vicinity of East Lansing. He's like Charlie from It's Always Sunny.

This entire post seems choppy and not very put together. Oh well, I'm on my lunch break at work. Suck it, Grynchy.

I'm sure we'll discuss this topic more in the coming days, but Lions vs. Bears on Monday Night Football is going to be full of arguments, alcohol and possibly (probably?) jail time. It's going to be out of control.

Finaly note: I think Katie left her phone on the charger at Brandon's, as there is a phone there whose owner we cannot track down. Plus it's locked. Can you confirm this?

Love,
Dave

I am a good person! (Pt. 1 of ?)

Hey, David,

Funny you should mention all the important conversations I'm supposedly having. This evening, Katie sat on a panel of four women to discuss human trafficking live on Belizean television. As expected, it was a laugh riot. I sat in the studio taking notes during the 90-minute show. The following are excerpts from my notebook, almost entirely verbatim:

-2 minutes to showtime. Katie apologizes for the length of her skirt. Cameraman insists it is not a problem. Cameraman is male.

-Katie mistakenly declares that Bay City is an hour and a half north of Detroit (two hours).

-Virginia (host) declares that they will now be accepting phone-in questions. I pray there is a Belizean version of Matt Kelly out there. My prayers will no doubt go unanswered.

-During her description of the Partners chapter, Abigail mentions cultural exchanges between countries, specifically music. She says "Steel Pan" went to America. I fully expected her to say "Steel Panther." I am disappointed when this is not so.

-Apparently going to a strip club can suport human trafficking. Cue brief discussion of men who implicitly support human trafficking by going to titty bars. Clearly, they have never been to the Vu, where I only accept dances from younger sisters of guys I went to high school with.

-The show will not be filming next Monday, due to a holiday. Apparently the Lions' first Monday Night Football game in a decade (or, possibly Cheryl's birthday) counts as a national holiday in Central American countries.

-Commercial break: "Belize annual Park-Fest! Bring the entire family! Prizes! Bouncy castle! Beer-drinking contest! The after-party keeps it goin' at 11:00!"

And, that's a wrap!

Conversations You Missed

Here are a couple samples of important conversations that you're missing out on while you're probably talking about irrelevant things like "human trafficking" and "global issues."

Kristen (via text): "I think I've deciphered from your voicemail that you're my brother, that I don't have to listen to Ben, it's too late (?) and you miss Chris. Not sure what all that means, but I appreciate your call."

Ted: "Us destroying our bodies is the only way the Lions will ever win!"
Me: "I just threw up."
Ted: "It is our burden. The white man's burden."

Me: "I love you, bud!"
Ben: "Stop calling me 'bud.'"

No way are you having such deep and meaningful conversations in Belize.

Drunken Lions Recap - Week 4

Chris,

Let me start off by saying that the Flash Taco burrito that I am eating is simply delicious. I am not exactly sure how the Lions won today (I'll get to that later), as I followed up the win by going to Passine's and then back to the Corners for more drinks. The Monday night game between the Lions and Bears should be wild.

Also, I'm watching Taken right now, and it's still awesome. I hope you don't get sold into sexual slavery like Liam Neeson's daughter. OR DO I?

So, the Lions sucked dick to start the game. Stafford was flat-out bad. No question. At halftime, the Lions were down by a score of 27-3. (Just keep in mind that none of this was official, because I tried once again, to do a shot every time the Lions recorded a first down). Seriously? Fuck you, Famke Jannsen! You're good looking, but let Liam Neeson give his fucking daughter a present. Fuck you, too, STUART. Just because you're fucking Liam Neeson's ex-wife doesn't mean you are her father. God damnit. People these days.

The Lions came back with two pick-sixes. Bobby Carpenter had the first (I don't know if it was credited to him, as he fumbled it in the endzone and Eric Wright picked it up.) and South Padre had the second. So with the score 27-17 (?), the Lions scored the next two touchdowns in traditional fashion: CALVIN MOTHERFUCKING JOHNSON. Two more touchdowns, bud. The first one was in triple coverage. He's so god damned good. I am drunk.

I love you.

Dave

Day 1: The Internet in foreign countries is of adequate speed.

My dearest David,

After three stops and about eight hours of flying, I've arrived in Belize. More specifically, Belize City (Population: 70,000). Before I go into what will certainly confirm your views on foreign countries, I'd like to share a few notes from my journey this morning.

International flights beat the shit out of domestic ones. My experience thus far only consists of Taca International (catch phrase: "Another on-time flight with Taca!"), but let's count the ways in which this flight topped its American domestic counterparts:

1. Tons of Central and South American dudes with mustaches wearing cowboy hats. Pretty much speaks for itself. But seriously, I thought I was on a plane with about 24 Latin Burt Reynolds impersonators.

2. Hot flight attendants. (Read: Not gay men [although the male flight attendants were certainly comely enough, from a hetero perspective] or elderly women). Maybe this is just a Latin thing; I'll have to gather more data.

3. Airline food. I didn't realize this actually still existed, but I was treated to a delightful breakfast of spongy hotcakes with hot apples, a cup of strawberry yogurt, two muffins, and a Bloody Mary to wash it down. Not bad.

4. Every time we arrived at a stop, the pilot would come over the PA and announce our arrival (not unusual), followed by "Thank you for flying with Tacaaaaaaaaaa..." with an elongated whisper at the end (unusual).


Side note: What's going on with the Lions? I only have stat updates at the moment, but this is brutal so far.

Anyway, back to Belize. Katie has just entered my room to express concern that the contents of this blog could be damaging to our travels (in Central/South America, at least) due to the possibly high levels of vulgarity/offensive content. Well, I haven't used much profanity thus far, but I think I speak for both of us when I say FUCK THAT FUCKING SHIT. I'll Google myself when this post is done to see if I show up (as a precaution, I've changed my name to Doggfrey).

Belize City seems cool enough, but I have no doubt you'd be uncomfortable, due to your noted distrust of non-whites. I'll have more info on that as my stay continues. Katie has to be interviewed for TV and go to social events at the American Embassy and shit. And, as her greasy-haired male companion, I have to film everything. The things I do for cheap travel.

Are you at Duffy's? And the obvious follow-up is: Are you blackout already?

-Doggins

First of Many

Chris,

You haven't even been gone for 12 hours and I've already had the first instance of me trying to contact you. Jim Schwartz just tweeted that he's listening to Cowboys from Hell on the bus ride to the game today. I had my phone out and the text half-written before I caught myself.

Point of the story: LIONS. I will write my drunken recap when I wake up after the game.

Dave

Five Days Until Departure

Dear Chris,

I can only hope that our time together was long enough for my extreme xenophobia to affect you. You are going to be traveling the world for a year, and you know how much I hate other countries. My only ask to you is that you constantly remind them how much better you, and by extension, your country, are when compared to them.

It also wouldn't hurt to throw a couple drunken "USA, USA," chants in there for Brandon. I'm sure that he would appreciate it.

Finally, I just want you to realize that you are going to miss a Lions Superbowl. Are you sure that you don't want to reconsider this trip? You still have five days.

Sincerely,
Your brother