Icehouse hasn't been around too much. I apologize for this. I've been a little swamped with some stuff, like riding my fucking bike from Houston to Austin.
Anyway.
Here's some pictures to fill in some space here.
The Foo Fighters support the Grizzlies.
Fans just can't let Tony forget about Eva.
A little old school, but it bears reminding that Jason Williams wore this shirt to the White House.
Lamar Odom pops bottles.
And finally, Chris Kaman put a suppressor on his .22.
The NFL draft is right around the corner, which explains the increased visibility of Mel Kiper and Todd McShay (again refer to the Todd theory)
Personally I hate the fact that they now have the first rounds on Thursday and Friday. Since the age of 12 I've been used to wasting an entire weekend staring at the TV staring at names coming across the ticker. The draft actually comes at a perfect time in the year, it's like "Ok spring is here but I need one more weekend to do absolutely nothing, THEN I'll go outside and do stuff." Honestly, the laziest weekend I had was in college. My roommate and I watched the entire draft, leaving only to buy booze, feasting on leftover wings from a sorority car wash. If that's not being worthless to the world I don't know what is. Basically, the draft is awesome and people who bitch about the draft and the combine, are (1) Idiots (2) Not real football fans. That's right I said it. If you do not throw a weekend of your life away just to see who gets taken in the 3rd round YOU ARE AH NAWT A TRUE FAN OF THE GAME!!!
Point is, drafts are awesome. KSK really cornered the market with their Friday mock drafts, so I'm stealing their schtick, but today's shit storm will deal with drafts.
If you could participate in any draft in the world (real or fake) what would you choose?
My choice comes from an old high school debate, and something I've wanted to do for many years.
That's right, a draft to assemble a hooters franchise.
Our idea was to hold combines, interviews, and eventually a draft, to form our own hooters franchise. obviously the looks are important, but we also wanted to hold Hula Hoop tests (40 time) examine film on how waitresses could flirt with creepy old guys (film) and hold interviews that included what degree they were pursuing. (wonderlic)
In lunch we even had a full list of tests and rules, and may or may not have concocted a plan to open a fruit stand at the local farmers market called "Melons" using high school girls as employees.
So that was our carefully crafted business plan idea, let's hear your drafting fantasies.
In efforts to better understand how best to live, our resident backwoodsman Booker Pogue sat down with the chaw-spitting tater-basher. Below are some of the most interesting tidbits.
"I'll have a natty heavy please."
"You hearda this one? It's like Pearl, if they made it in a bath tub. Found a tooth in a bottle couple weeks ago."
"What do you mean you don't have schlitz on draft?!"
"I don't trust boneless wings. If you can't choke on em and die, I don't see the point in eating em."
"Tell your mom to stop calling me."
"Did you know bald eagle was high in cholesterol?"
"You like this underwear? I killed and skinned this possum myself."
"I used to use boar's blood for all my protein shakes before I discovered biodiesel."
"Sting ray barbs will get the plaque out of your teeth, but you don't want to rub your eyes after using one. I don't know why I did it twice"
"I used to carry my bounty hunter's license in Montana til they banned the use of hatchets. sort of lost its appeal after that.
"Lotta people use crampons when climbing glaciers. Pretty expensive pair of long toenails if you ask me."
But it does bring up a good question. What other suits/probes/ and investigations can we bring against sports organizations, and individuals?
I have one, why are NCAA teams allowed to over-sign players to scholarships? The SEC is notorious for this, and I can see some kid who was on good standing with the team and university bringing up a suit after losing his scholly for a fresh young recruit.
I know, I know, we're supposed to be covering sports NEWS and not OLDS. And this is maybe a week or more old. But damn. I've got say some things about this. Otherwise, I'm going to start pooping out of my weiner with an overwrought sense of denial.
Oh no! I had to WAIT PATIENTLY before an NFL team had the audacity to pick me! WHAT TREMENDOUS TRAGEDY. But they told him second or third round! LOS BASTARDOS! He had to walk by himself with a baseball bat, and then be walked like a golden retriever around the block by his parents. What heartache. What turmoil. What anstiness.
Not that I don't understand. I've waited on fairly important things before in my life, none of which are as big time as playing in the NFL, and I've been less than patient. It's no man's bag.
But a little perspective would be nice. "Wow, I've had a fairly successful career since getting drafted a little later than I and most every other person drafted would have liked to have been." You know what that is? UNDERFUGGINSTATMENT. Brady's gone on to have one of the best careers of anybody ever. Who cares is a bunch of other teams you've railed COUNTLESS TIMES in your career passed on you? PISS ON THEM WITH YOUR SMOKING HOT WIFE AND SUPER BOWL ACCOLADES IN OPPOSITE HANDS. When I first saw he cried, I thought it would be about the happiness that came from getting picked. NAY. It was "Oh, no, I had to wait a day to get picked. A whole day! I know, I was so P.O.ed too..." Please.
Also, nice jab at the noble and venerable profession of insurance sales. I'm glad that you can afford to purchase your various belongings, STRAIGHT CASH, and have them wrecked or stolen with little to no effect on your vast wealth. Other people need insurance, and need good, solid, hardworking, and trustworthy Americans to sell it to them. Plus, for all of the tears you just shed at the possibility of NOT getting drafted, you'd think you might have the presence of mind to be like "You know, that was ALMOST me, maybe not kick insurance salesmen with my cleat."
Screw this guy, his sassy hair, and his veneers. THEMS FAKE YO.
If you want to make it up to me, let me see your wife without you.
SOOOOooooo today begins the second leg of the quarterfinals. Last week, Rooney scored the only goal in Manchester 1-0 Chelsea. Chelsea can advance, they'll just need to score 2 and keep Man U out of their net. This will be quite difficult, however, as they are playing at Old Trafford and have Torres up front who totally sucks these days.
Elsewhere in the universe, Shakhtar Donetsk will continue to act like a lamb being sacrificed in reverence to FC Barcelona. Their pathetic offering will not slake Barca's bloodlust.
So anyway, watch the game today, use the comments as an open thread. WHEEEE.
In our final segment of Lattimer ran out of ideas writer shit storm we have a submission from Stovall.
I'll keep it simple
Athletes who look like rock stars. No, not the "Albert Pujols looks like a god" type of rockstar, More of the "The catcher from Angels in the Outfield* looks literally like Meatloaf.
HAHA just kidding. Icehouse is ready for this weeekend. BIGTIME. This is actually a pretty sweet time of the year, sports-wise. Baseball is still new and exciting. The Masters is happening, plus the Champions League is now coming down to it. If you missed this past week's game, you missed a lot of blowouts.
But, there were a shitload of wacky goals. Stankovic.
High School Dunk Contest. Ballislife is the shiznit.
The description of this video is "huckfest carnage." Fuck yeah it is.
WHHHOOOOAAAAAAAAAA EJECT.
Snooki's finishing move was awesome. Sorry for the shit-tastic video, but it's worth watching.
Sabonis made the hall of fame this year. ARVYDAS SABONIS. So, Icehouse presents this clip of Sabonis highlights, set to "November Rain."
As difficult as it is, I genuinely try to lay off NBA players for their mode of dress. For one, I feel like they have enough professional image issues to deal with that are out of their hands ( a racially motivated dress code; a despotic, union-busting commissioner who thinks he's a mobster and says stuff like this; Ron Artest*) that there's no need to pile on admonishment about personal taste. But, just as often, I'm simply at a loss for words when confronted with the utter lack of sartorial consciousness on display by some of the world's best athletes. Fortunately, the dude behind the completely hilarious and endearingly nsfw blog Victory Light has both the vocabulary and lack of tact required to speak my mind for me.
Below are a few choice snaps from his take on some of Mr. Kardashian's and Mr. Pierce's less flattering moments. And, shout out to ALL CAPS. 2011 IS ALL ABOUT ALL CAPS.
*I love/respect Ron Artest.
THIS NIGGAS BLAZER LOOKS LIKE HE DUG UP A DEAD BARBERSHOP QUARTET GUY AND WAS LIKE "THIS IS HOT...I THINK THE HAT IS TOO MUCH THOUGH"
WHAT IS THIS OUTFIT B? ARE YOU GOING TO A JOB INTERVIEW AT A BASEBALL GAME WHERE YOU HAVE TO PLAY BASKETBALL AND RAP? YOU LOOK LIKE A MANAGER AT APPLEBEES THAT JUST GOT OFF WORK AND HALFWAY CHANGED.
HOOOOOOOBOY. HOOOOBOY. HOW YOU LIKE IT, HOW YOU LIKE IT, HOW YOU LIKE IT?
Looks like everyone not named Zack got lined up and rolled out on a STRETCHER this year in the GRH NCAA Brackakke. I emerged victorious, vanquishing my foes with wit, wisdom, and mental dexterity hitherto UNSEEN in modern bracketology. The near misses...the upsets...the close calls. Describes some games in the tournament, but couldn't be further from describing the GRH brackets against me. It was me in a landslide.
Hold up, Harvard called. They need someone to speak at the commencement ceremony for their renowned Comm. V. Schmidlapp School of Bracketology. Hope I can make it when I'm not using my knowledge to teach computers how to moonwalk in VEGAS.
I don't think anybody is surprised. I'm full of nothing but basketball prowess. I didn't even have to watch any basketball games this year, I JUST KNEW. I knew where to pick my spots and how I needed to proceed in my quest to become the most vaunted bracketoleger, perhaps methinks, OF ALL TIME.
How many correct Final Four picks? One. Kentucky. How much in the field? Zero. I WIN!!!
Teams don't matter as much though. You've GOTTA find the hot hand in the deck. Who's coming into the tournament looking good? Jimmer Fredette? A pale, mormony excuse of a basketball player. What about Butler's Matt Howard? He's tall, isn't he? But no, everybody, YOURS TRULY, knew Kemba Walker was about to run a train on this tournament. His shots were the ones you had to SEE TO BELIEVE. In him, I put my faith, believing he'd drag his team, kicking and scream, to at least the championship game. And he did.
Of course, I thought Kemba Walker played for Pitt, and had them in the championship game. But again, no matter. I WIN!!!
I'd like to take a moment and thank all of the people I so savagely destroyed in the process of getting mine. Lattimer: Wasn't expecting a lot out of you, but you brought out the vigor I knew you'd have. You losing was a constant source of inspiration for me, both on and off the court. No really, I was laughing to myself about it later, helped me sleep. Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse. You have, by far, the most basketball expertise of anyone I know, outside, of course, of myself. You came in dead last. The writing is on the wall, the stars are aligned in the western skies; you will be a great bracketeer one day. NOT TODAY, GRASSHOPPER. NOT. TO. DAY. And the rest of you unimportant flunkies whose name either escaped me or never dwelled in my august brain region: Enjoy the smell. Waft in my vapors. Take in my aura as it glides past you, seemingly effortless, but with purpose and power. You will all fall before me one day anyway. Enjoy your bipedal, upright view for the time being.
And let's score more than 60 points next year. Our brackets all sucked.
The best part is that they really did troll us all. We were all suckered into watching... whatever that was. Some people will claim that superior defensive play was on display last night. Those people are horrendously wrong. True, both teams are better defensively than other teams, but holy shit was that just an exhibition in bricklaying.
Butler sucks. I was all about them last year because of Duke haterade, but this year was the same shit, just a year older and minus Gordon Hayward. So no, I don't give a shit about Butler or the underdog or any of that nonsense. You tiptoed and bumblefucked your way through the weakest possible bracket lineup to another championship game, then shot 12 for fucking 64 from the field. Butler might as well have their bulldog mascot (who is actually pretty cool) come out and take a shit on midcourt.
12 shots made. Out of 64 attempts. That's 18%. Here are some other things that are 18%: -18% of Americans think the sun revolves around the Earth -18% of Kentucky nursing homes abuse their residents -18% of Americans think Congress is doing a good job -18% of Florida homes are vacant Source
Moving on, I'd like to point out that UConn women lost to Notre Dame in the final four. So after all the hoopla about how this is the greatest chick team ever or something, they lose and all the glory goes to the men's team. So sad. And Hilarious. Hilariously sad.
Finally, UConn is facing NCAA punishments for recruiting improprieties. Jim Calhoun himself has to sit out the first three Big East games next year. He'll probably still collect that salary, though.
So yeah. The bad guys won. I'm happy about it. You should be too.
Anyway, the clip does bring out an interesting question. How would comic book characters fare in athletic competition?
The answer is that they would obviously be badass and set all sorts of records, but which sport would really fit their outrageous abilities. Obviously there are some natural fits such as Aquaman (Yo Vinny that shit is dope) and The Flash. But I honestly have no clue where I would put the X-Men. They would just kill everyone, right? I know what your thinking, and yes, there is no wrong answer to this shit storm. Spiderman playing golf? I mean...sure, that makes sense.
But yeah, any comic book hero or villan, and if you pick a team sport please give a position.
My Selection; THE HULK at Noseguard for football.
Perfect attitude and size. He can not only soak up, but also defeat double teams to allow my superhero linebackers to roam freely and kill the ball carrier. Literally.
"Oh but Lattimer how will you make him THE HULK and not Bruce Banner?"
Icehouse is at the office. Lame. All I know is Julio Borbon, you are a fuckstick. Way to get an error on the first play of the season.
ANYWAY. Let's have some fun.
First up, style tips from Zaza Pachulia.
Also, this happened.
I know next to nothing about cricket, but this movie looks awesome.
The first couple of minutes of this is sad and I didn't like when they show Shane's helmet cam about to take off, because I knew what happened next and I didn't want to see it. But, the latter half of the video is an amazing tribute, hilarious and all around totally badass.
Bossaball? Bossaball.
I am just plain happy that Ochocinco tried out for Sporting KC.
That's what I got for you today. For me, it's back to business.
As difficult as it is, I genuinely try to lay off NBA players for their mode of dress. For one, I feel like they have enough professional image issues to deal with that are out of their hands ( a racially motivated dress code; a despotic, union-busting commissioner who thinks he's a mobster and says stuff like this; Ron Artest*) that there's no need to pile on admonishment about personal taste. But, just as often, I'm simply at a loss for words when confronted with the utter lack of sartorial consciousness on display by some of the world's best athletes. Fortunately, the dude behind the completely hilarious and endearingly nsfw blog Victory Light has both the vocabulary and lack of tact required to speak my mind for me. 
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