American Idle

So, upon my return Friday from an extremely peaceful, and beautiful, business trip to Vermont, I decided to rest up as I basked in the cool air from the A/C I had just installed. I had a long week, in high elevation, in a place that could be Charlottesville’s hotter older sister, and I was tired. Plus it was like a million degrees in Hoboken. I mean the type of heat where you see the haze rising from the city sidewalks like that of a BBQ grill and you just want to kill yourself. Hot like it was on the Naughty By Nature Feel Me Flow video. Still an underrated cut BTW. Albeit, I am the asshole who decided to drive back in on the Friday before Memorial Day weekend, but hey, that’s neither here nor there.

Anyways, as I flipped through the channels and watched the Twins lose another on my Blackberry, the dial landed on one of those, “Hey, Are you something-aged and too busy to hang out? Wellll, what are you waiting for? Mosey on over to this website where something-aged folk can peruse and immediately judge other something-aged folk.” Well, not exactly, but you get the picture. Anyways, it got me thinking. Are we all presently living in a society where people are soooo busy working that they don’t have the time to simply go out and enjoy life? At first glance that would seem the case. But keep digging into that nebulus of a rectum and by golly you’ll find that golden dingleberry of truth after all. The true reason we are all steadfastedly running around like kids who just banged their head’s on  the wall in P.E. is quite simple, because we have to. There’s so garsh darn many of us now, and with the population growing everyday like penis’s at a Levitra pill party, your loss is even moreso someone else’s gain. My solution is do as some of us do. Work your tired job simply so you can rock out at night on what you really like to do, alongside your best friend. If you’re not doing that, then well, you my dead-on-the-inside friend, are presently missing out. And you would also be a key figure in the inspiration of this peice.

As I watched the tube I also happened across a series of commercials. Ads. Propaganda, if you will. Analyzation once again crept its curious head and I started to breakdown just what it was I was watching. Through all the local lawyer advertisements (NJ-creepy Bruce S. Gates/VA-stern Lowell “the Hammer” Stanley) and Tech school nursing nonsense that is regurgitated on unsuspecting malcontents, I fished out two shining examples that in my eye, epitomized what I fear America may be turning into. In a world that is slowly starting to celebrate the ideal that everyone should do as little as possible in order to get by, this laziness has reared it’s noggin nationally and I am disappointed. Why? Because we’ve basically told on ourselves. Here’s how:

1. T-Mobile biting an Apple

Remeber this. Now watch this. Hmmmm. Hey wait a minute, somethings amiss! So I could just chalk this up to T-Mobile being the Khloe Kardashian of the big three cell networks, but screw that. Mrs. P had nothing to do with this. This was just sheer and utter laziness. Your first mistake was getting this fake, Jay wait for it, Anne Hathaway looking, random ass girl as a spokesperson. Your second. Getting that Asher Roth/Twista hybrid white guy to rap some weird NBA rap that although quick, was rather juvenile. Your third. Being T-Mobile. Just get Catherine Zeta Jones’ ass out of rehab and get back to what you do best. Being second tier. Like Zeta-Jones will always be to my sweet Salma.

*I could have also mentioned Lady Gaga rehashing Express Yourself, but I have to believe that Madonna not speaking on it has something to do with some sort of monetary compensation. I just think, I mean, my finace’ just thinks they sound too similar. Yeah, Gladys thinks that.

2. Cetain Dri. Making woman more materialistic with every swipe of the armpit

Never has a commercial made women take a step backwards more than this. This put women so far back, I swear I just saw Eve walk into the garden. I mean, why on earth would this complete embodiment of a slut be at this classy of a shindig? I know what you’re thinking. That was my first guess as well. Prostitute. I know, but ironically  not this time. That’s right. It was so she could show how to do as little as possible, in this case be “attractive” around rich people,  in order to “succeed”. I mean she’s already got the used up, Fiona Apple in her Criminal video look going for her, so why not go for the gusto. This is exactly the message I’d want my daughter to see. And of course this guy MUST be a doctor. Why? Because he’s wearing spectacles, that’s why. Head nod. Tactical. Wink. Does that then make me a doctor? Nice. Dunn, M.D.? No thanks. I’ve always preferred ESQ. anyways. I mean, you GOTTA love this exchange:

“Don’t tell me YOU’RE a Doctor?!”

“I, am.”


Advertisement gold.

So there you have it America. No, No. Don’t try and rebuttal this. You already did it to yourselves. And I could go further and mention how Dairy Queen should be cutting my man Mustafa a check because if these new ads for DQ aren’t a complete dopplganger of Old Spice’s then I ain’t whistle’n dixie. And dawg gone it I was born in Alabama. So shape up America, or if you not careful, we’ll all be Asia’s and half of Europe’s bitch soon yet. Are you ready for learning. And techno. Didn’t think so. Buck up America. Buck Up! 

So please help me to answer:                                                                                             What commercial more said, “Eh, I’ll do it tomorra.”


Better crazy hair – Coco Crisp or Tony Allen?

Today’s professional sports have become very corporate.  Players are encouraged not to express their own personalities and to fall in line with the norm.  This shows itself in many areas including press conferences – where players just talk in generic coach-speek, fashion – where players all have their own personal stylist to adhere with the league dress code, and with their hair – where “high and tight” is the norm and not just another way to describe 6’8″ Britney Griner’s vagina.

That’s why it is refreshing whenever an athlete like Brian Wilson or Scotty Hopson does something a little different and crazy.  All athletes are a little bit crazy in one way or another (or in the case of Ron Artest every way humanly possible), so why not show it with your hair?  Recently two athletes did just that. So who has the better crazy hair?

Tony Allen – Memphis Grizzlies

Tony Allen is known as a guy that is a little bit crazy – a tenacious defender who is an above average athlete but mostly gets along on heart, grit and grind – which is why this t-shirt exists and this one is about to.  I am a fan of Tony Allen because his success in the NBA has been above and beyond what his talent says it should have been.  You have to respect that.  But then he went and got his hair cut like this:

Yes, that is the Memphis Grizzlies logo  etched into the back of his head.  He took inspiration from the old school styles of Dennis Rodman and Anthony Mason and went to a whole other level with it.  The detail is amazing.  The white chalk outline!  The white chalk mouth! The glitter for eyeballs!  This dude is confident enough in his manhood to wear glitter in his hair! Amazing! Exclamation point!

Coco Crisp – Oakland A’s

This is another guy that I have always been a fan of.  Lets just get the obvious out the way – knowing damn well there is a cereal called Cocoa Krispies, he willing goes by the name Coco Crisp (actual full name is Covelli Loyce Crisp).  Add that to the fact that he started his career with my Indians and stole about 30 bases in half of a season for my fantasy baseball team last year and you have one my favorite baseball players even before this amazing hair was unleashed.  For years Coco sported really long braids.  A couple of weeks ago he took them out and this was the result:

Now that is an afro.  He has to have on like a size 30 cap to contain all of that hair.  He took inspiration from Oscar Gamble’s old school fro but went even bigger. I love how retro this is and how it matches perfectly with the A’s throwback jersey.

Both of these are great, but ultimately I have to give the edge to Coco because he has worn his hair like this for several games now and Tony Allen’s hair unfortunately never saw the court.

NBA Playoff Preview

Please note something very important below – neither Dunn or Jay think the first round will ever be completed.  When they e-mailed their picks to me both of them seemed to think that the first round was a best of five.  The NBA first round switched to a best of seven EIGHT YEARS AGO! 8!  This is what happens when you reach 30 – you only remember things the way they were when you were a child. You forget about the great Bulls/Celtics 7 game first round series from 2009 or the 8th seeded Warriors knocking off the top seeded Mavs in six games and instead you remember Dikembe Mutombo falling to the ground holding the ball above his head after his Nuggets beat the Sonics in a best of five way back in 1994.  Also, it apparently makes you not realize that the Lakers and OKC can’t meet until the Conference Finals.

Perron’s Picks

First Round

Bulls over Pacers – 4-0
The Pacers actually have a very promising, very young, and very white team, but the Bulls go hard every game and will not let up at all. Sadly – this is going to be a thrashing.  Does anyone know if Reggie Miller has a son?  How about Cheryl Miller? I would settle for Reggie’s nephew to save the franchise. Everyone knows Cheryl is really just Reggie wearing a wig anyway.

Magic over Hawks – 4-0
The Hawks have given up on the season yet again.  With all of the crazy off-season drama last year and the greatest collection of free-agents ever you know who got teh largest contract of all of them?  Lebron? Wade? Bosh? Amare? No x 4.  It was Joe Johnson.  That’s why you are the Hawks.

Heat over Sixers – 4-1
The Heat are the opposite of the Bulls – they like to take a game off here and there. This should be a sweep but it won’t be.  Because the Heat are Like a Bosh:

Celtics over Knicks – 4-3
I badly want to pick the Knicks but they can’t win on the road.  Neither can the Celts. This will go seven and the C’s will blow them out in game 7 after everyone gets excited about how the Knicks are back, then promptly forget about them until they sign Deron Williams in July.

Spurs over Grizzlies – 4-2
The Grizz will make it interesting, but ultimately some random guy the Spurs got from the D League will step up and everyone will wonder where he came from.

OKC over Denver – 4-2
Denver is super deep and will give the Thunder some trouble, then Kendrick Perkins will set a pick so hard that the Birdman’s neck tattoos turn black and white.

Lakers over Hornets – 4-0
The Hornets fate was sealed when David West was lost for the year.

Blazers over Mavs – 4-2
Here is the first round upset.  Portland is simply playing way better basketball than Dallas right now.  Hopefully the nation can finally see Lamarcus Aldridge play – dude is a beast.

Second Round

Bulls over Magic – 4-1
The Bulls don’t take games off so they will roll once again – or else Thibodeau might kill them because he is the NBA’s version of Frank Martin.

Heat over Celtics – 4-3
Let me reiterate – the Celtics can’t win on the road.

Lakers over Blazers – 4-2
The Lakers got themselves into the easy half of the West bracket.

OKC over Spurs – 4-2
Changing of the guard out West.  The Spurs big three will officially be dead after this.  And Tony Parker might actually be dead if he runs into one of Kendrick Perkins picks.

Conference Finals

Heat over Bulls – 4-3
The Heatles will put it all together by this point.  Lebron is still the greatest player on the planet and should win MVP again.  The team he was on this year won 11 more games than last year.  The team he left won 42 fewer.  In addition to being the best player alive, I’d say he is pretty valuable.  Rose will win the MVP and recieve the award sometime during this series. Lebron will not like this.

OKC over Lakers – 4-3
Before the season I picked OKC and the Heat to meet in the finals. I’m sticking with it.


OKC over Heat – 4-3
This I am switching up.  OKC is too physical with Perkins and Westbrook.  Lebron and Wade are both physical but Bosh will cower the first time Perkins hit him with an elbow and he runs into one of those signature picks.

Dunn’s Picks
West First Round
Lakers over Hornets
Bottom line the Lakers are extremely lucky to have gotten this match up. CP3 by himself equals a sweep.

Thunder over Nuggets
A lot of people seem to think because the ex-Melo’s are rolling this is somehow gonna extend into a playoff series win. I think opposite. The Thunder are deep and stole the C’s mojo when the Celts made the worst trade ever.

Spurs over Grizzles
I’m just gonna give you the “c’mon son” face.

Mavs over Blazers
If the Blazer trainers weren’t on a personal mission to completely sabotage what should have already been a great career for Brandon Roy, the Smokers would prevail. But the docs are, and I don’t bet against my brethren. Viva Deutschland!

East First Round
Bulls over Pacers
If Granger puts on my authentic 31 jersey and somehow morphs into Miller Time then we might make one game close. Might. Probably not.

Heat over Non-Iversons
Wrong AI means no chance. I’m not sure three AI’s, a Thr-Iverson if you will, could help this team win the series. Well that might be a stretch, but you catch my drift.

Magic over Hawks
The Hawks only play half the time so I only see them winning half the games. Plus Howard’s first five tech series will give the Hawks a game or two. Hey Dwight, calm down buddy. You’re not Shaq.

Knicks over Celtics
I can’t believe I typed that. I am just seeing an older and older Celtic team. Moving on.

West Semi’s
Lakers over Mavs
I really don’t care who wins. But, I would bet a nice chunk on the Mavs imploding.  4-2

Thunder over Spurs
One is just too old. The other is the future. Guess who prevails? 4-2

West Finals
Lakers over Thunder
Barely. And Odom gets sodomized by Durant. Literally. In front of Mrs. Piggy. 4-2

East Semi’s
Bulls over Knicks
This ain’t MJ against Pat. Get serious. But, same outcome.

Heat over Magic
Dwight Howard and his arsenal of shooters might as well have cap guns against the Big 3. Too much firepower, for the Heat

East Finals
Heat over Bulls
I will not be another person that deny’s the destiny of this team. I wanted the Pats to go undefeated and fucking Eli and company ruined it. I love the Heat’s team and I want LBJ to get a ring.

Heat over Lakers
Artest won’t have some miraculous game this time around. Go Heat!!!!

Jay’s Picks
West First Round
Lakers over Hornets – 3-1
I can’t wait to see the stripes, aka Kobe’s “fucking faggot” brigade,” give him
a de facto suspension in game 1 whistling him for every push off and crybaby
face. Lakers still role. Kourtney Kardashian still ugly.

Thunder over Nuggets – 3-2
Having no stars is the new having big stars. Amazing how every once in a while
the NBA teaches you how it actually does count to be a “team” that “listens” to
its “Hall of Fame coach.” Thunder are still too good for the Fighting George

Spurs over Grizzlies – 3-0
Grizzlies went undefeated in the preseason. I then picked them to make the
playoffs as the No. 8 seed. Let’s go ahead and cut predictions of miraculous
Grizzle feats while we’re ahead.

Mavericks over Blazers – 3-1
I like the Mavs, but I like the Mavs every year. I’m going to go ahead and
predict right now that one of my predictions of the Mavs winning a series will
be wrong. Dirk is soft as strudel.

East First Round
Bulls over Pacers – 3-0
Here’s the team I should be picking to come out of the East.

Celtics over Knicks – 3-1
Here’s the team I will be picking to come out of the East. Let me explain –
While Man was given the great gift of reason while walking this earth, he was
also given to thinking he’s way more awesome than anyone if he says something
before anyone else says it’s going to happen. Why do you think we love
Nostradamus so much. The world loves a good prophet. Now, since I called
Lakers-Celts one mo’ gin some seven months ago, and both teams are in decent
enough position to make a run at the finals, I am tied by man-pride to stick
with that preseason prediction even though every fiber of my being knows the
gray-haired, dangle-testicled, gout-having, arthritis-ridden, prostate-swollen,
finicky-colon-having Celts are in no shape to make a run past the Heat or the
Bulls (much less both). As for this series, remember what I said about Denver?
Melo is the new Iverson (love you Chuck) – team cancer.

Heat over Sixers – 3-0
The Sixers talents will be lost somewhere in the airport on the way to South

Magic over Hawks – 3-2
Poor Hawks. Always good enough to roll through the two-thirds of the East that
is pathetically bad. Never QUITE good enough when the real competition starts.

West Semis
Thunder over Spurs – 4-3

In preparation for the most exciting seven game series in years in the next round, the Thunder will win the most boring seven game series in years. Not a single game will be decided by less than eight points.

Lakers over Mavs – 4-2
It’s just inevitable, like Kardashians on TV. The Lakers will march to the finals. Just get over it.

East Semis
Bulls over Magic – 4-2
Man, the Bulls have an easy road to the East Finals. Yes, the Magii are pretty
tough in the playoffs, but isn’t Gilbert Arenas still on this roster? My
apologies to ‘Melo. The biggest cancer in the NBA lives in Disneyland.

Celtics over Heat – 4-2
Yeah, despite what I just wrote about the Cs, I honestly believe this right now.
More and more every second I type it. How is that possible? Did I not just see
the Heat destroy the Cs 100-77 when home court for this series was on the line?
Of course I didn’t. I watched the highlights. Look – the Heat are still such a
fragile collective ego that the grizzly ole nut sacked Cs will know all they
need to do is punch them in the mouth in game 1 and the Heat will fall into

West Finals

Lakers over Thunder – 4-3
Best series of the playoffs alert. I probably love Kevin Durant for no better
reason than Kobe continually tries to mind-fuck him, and he just responds by
balling on the Lakers like no other team. 

East Finals
Celts over Bulls – 4-3
So if the Baby Bulls took the Cs to the limit a couple of years ago when the
Celts were near their very best, how is this one going to work out? Well, one,
my man-pride requires me to make this pick. Two, Shaq. My entire premise for the
Cs making the Finals this year has been Shaq, and my entire reason for still
picking the Cs is the absurd bet Shaq is actually healthy for the playoffs.
Honestly, I still don’t think the Bulls are ready to run all the way to the
finals. They’re a year away.

Lakers over Celts – 4-2
I hate Kobe Bryant. Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. But here, the Shaq
juice runs dry for the thin-lipped, saggy-assed Cs. As much as I’m betting Shaq
helps in the East, he is actually the absolutely worst thing the Cs could have
done to prepare for another Lakers-Celtics finals match up. Kobe is going to be
so energized by asshole power, he’s going to average a tripe double in this
series – points, rebounds and points on absurdly difficult 19-ft turnaround
jumpers in double coverage when he had a teammate wide open under the rim. I
mean, seriously, Cs? You thought it was a good idea to give Kobe a chance to
prove once and for all he is better than Shaq?

LND Bracket Challenge

Join the LND Bracket Challenge

We all know the cliché.   The person that wins every office pool is always the receptionist that picked the games based on which team’s point guard has the cutest butt or the gay guy in IT that picked the games based on which teams center has the cutest butt.  Disclaimer: not all gay guys like large men. Are you tired of this happening all the time?  Are you ready for a bracket pool where the people who actually know something about college basketball have a real chance at winning?  Do you think the experts that watch all of the games are the ones that deserve to win?

Then look no further.  The LND staff are are the experts and we will crush you.

Join the LND Bracket Challenge


More pretentious: Microbrew or red wines

Let me just admit it: I love microbrews, and I love red wine.

I mean, I don’t know a note of lead pencil from bouquet of black cherry, and, no, I don’t taste the orange rhind finish in your bourbon barrel chocolate stout, but I love all that shit anyway. Why? It gets me lit the fuck up, and I look fancy drinking it. Drinking such esteemed beverages allows me to wear fine linen pants, say things like “Well, darling, I’m well enough into my cups that I am now three sheets into the wind. I believe I shall retire to my chambers,” and swirl my beverage around in a glass pretending it will make it taste better when really I just think it makes me look cool.

So, the point is, you can enjoy drinking microbrews and red wines until your heart’s content, but don’t lie to yourself — it’s still pretentious as fuck.

The debate here is which is MORE pretentious? Red wines, long crowned king of the bourgeoisie elite dating back to the glory days of old Europe, or microbrews, new upstart raising a rapidly ascending mismashed class of yuppies, hipsters and upper middle class up the social ladder on a surging frothy head scented with a tinge of shade grown Peruvian coffee beans.


Let’s just take Dogfish Head’s Palo Santo Marron as a microchosm for how pretentious microbrews have become.

A) Anytime the New York Times writes like a 2,000 word style feature on your beer, you know someone’s been ejaculating pretentia all over the walls.

B) When the story that NYT piece is about revolves around the journey of a small microbrew owner traveling to the wilds of Paraguay to lock up a source of an exotic wood known as Palo Santo, which means “holy tree,” so that said microbrew owner may construct a 10,000 gallon wooden barrel to brew an irreplicable libation that is dark as crude oil, strong as Dionysus’ urine and wild as Lindsey Lohan’s nightlife, you know that pretentia ejaculate is actually the foam left on your lip after every sip you take of this $10 12-ounce.

And, representative of a good many microbrews, just look at the glass the sad sap who took this picture was drinking Palo Santo Marron from. Anytime you are drinking brew from something that isn’t a bottle, a can, a standard pint, or something with a big fucking handle, you are pretentious. If you are drinking a ruddy chocolate-colored beer with a firm caramel head out of a glorified snifter, you are fucking absurdly pretentious. What? That perfectly cold 12-ounce bottle the beer was already in wasn’t letting the flavors ripen? Wow…

Might I also mention Dogfish, which I adore because I am secretely a pretentious beer fuck myself who just happens to have retained a taste for Natty Light in plus-48-ounce serving sizes, suggests you pair Palo Santo with chorizzo. And THAT my friends is the final nail in the coffin: If your beer even comes with a suggested pairing, you are covering yourself in ejaculated pretentia. Wanna know what you pair PBR with? …More PBR.

Red wine

For the first time in LND history, I am going to make the case for one side of a debate using solely photographic imagery to prove my point. I make my case:

Click here for a price check.

And finally…

I rest my case. Well, almost, one more thing. This “aroma wheel” actually exists…and wine drinkers actually use it to pretend they taste “wet dog” and “green bell pepper” in their vin du merdre.

So which is more pretentious? Too close to call in my book. What say you, earls of erudite inebriation?

Top 80’s MLB star

With Opening Day of the greatest sport in the history of sports less than a month away, it only seemed fitting to debate something about Americas past time. America’s past time? Some would say that would be better suited in explaining our countries penchant for putting its own in debt or engaging in International combat. What America most certainly is not doing is participating in an intense 9 on 9, firing rock solid weapons at each other. Or is it? No, no see unlike the former, we leave the latter to professionals. We here at LND, like to fancy ourselves as half hearted Americans. Men who care more about the New York Yankees than the original yankees (i.e. your fellow man). Men who would rather do long toss, than toss long grenades. Men who just might do a crowhop mid-stroll. Not that we don’t salute those engaged in combat, we just aren’t the types to do it ourselves.
When thinking of a new season of baseball, I always like to think about past greats. Seeing Prince Albert demand everything but a stake in Anheuser Busch in order to resign with the Cards showed me what amazing things All Star professionals can request. I mean, Pujols is arguably the greatest player of the past decade. He has set countless records with the numbers he’s put up these first years of his career and has become the standard of the modern great baseball player. Hopefully he never gets linked to the juice, because if so, the only hitters making it in to the Hall from my era are gonna be Biggio, Chipper, and Jete, and those mentioned below. Sad. 
In the 90’s it was Junior Griffey. From 1990-99 one would be hard-pressed to find any single player that could match his power, speed, defense, and all around baseball charm. I literally wanted to not only play like Griffey, but BE him. Hell, I wore his cleats playing baseball simply because he did. As a baseball nut, I had Griffey’s before I had Jordan’s. Name another soul on this planet in my generation that could say the same. Tough titty, cause you won’t find one.
What I could not determine though was who exactly was the best player from the 80’s? Who was the single player who constantly inflicted fear in opposing teams before even stepping in the batter’s box? Who had that combination of everything and still outdid themselves seemingly every game. I have just the candidates, but first, I’d like to eliminate those who lacked a key intangible, or just played too much in another decade. No need to try to squeeze someone in there who didn’t dominate the entire decade.
Here are those that didn’t make the cut and why:
Jose Canseco– for obvious reasons.
Andre Dawson/Ryne Sandberg– They eliminated each other by splitting votes. Sorry guys. Blame WGN for showing Cubs games.
Ozzie Smith- Baseball’s version of “The Wiz” could only defend and steal an occassional base. As fas as power goes, I think Kirk Douglas has a better chance getting hired as an auctioneer before Ozzie would have ever belted 20 homers in a season. (He had 28 in his career, total)
Wade Boggs- He had a chance based solely on his Chuck Norris like beard that he fashioned into a wearable mainstay. That was  of course until he latched onto the dynasty, lost the beard, sold his Red Socked soul to the devil, and subsequently rode off on his high horse, literally, after the Yanks ’96 title. Boggs+horse+Yankees= GTFOOH (Get the fuck out of here!)
Robin Yount- Sure he switched from one demanding position (SS) to another (CF) and got a gold glove at both. But just because you look like the prototypical 1980’s baseball player, complete with a mean ‘stache, that doesn’t make you the best. That, and I swear every time he came to bat I thought I was gonna hear Scarlet Begonias. Good song. Great player. In both cases though, not the reasons people cheered. (Touch of Grey will never be defeated and it has the best music video of all time!)
George Brett- Unfortunately, Pine. Tar.
Tony Gwynn/Cal Ripken- Played too much in the 90’s
Nolan Ryan- played too much in every decade
Kirby Puckett- He’s the G.O.A.T., but he played in the 90’s as well and because of him, killing El Presidente Martinez is the last item on my bucket list. Why? Because he took my hero out and it killed me. I’m not saying I was sitting in my room with Adam’s Song playing in the background, but I was pretty upset.  
So with the elimination of these greats, I ask you: Who was the best MLB player of the 1980’s?
Mike Schmidt
I had a tough time including him and not picking Robin Yount. I mean, they were basically the same player. Enormous power, excellent defense, and a ‘stache that rivaled Magnum’s. He got the upper hand though because he delivered a title to Philly. Something Yount could not do in Milwaukee. Plus I needed to shout out a Philly guy for my buddy Nate.
(and before some novelist cries that he played the entire decade of the ’70’s as well, to them I say, so what? My rules.) 
80’s credentials- Led MLB in homers (313), 6 Gold Gloves, 3 MVP’s, 8 x AllStar, 6 Silver Sluggers, 1980 World Series Title, solid mustache
Dale Murphy
Question. Who was the first NL Outfielder to win back to back MVP’s? I could give you a million guesses and you would have never come up with Dale Murphy. For this reason, and the fact that seeing him live at Fulton County at the age of 9 was my first MLB live experience, guaranteed his entry. (Although Ron Gant was the true star of that game, hitting two homers so far I think I found the balls at home in Alabama.)
80’s credentials- Back to Back MVP’s, 5 Gold Gloves, 7 x AllStar, 4 Silver Sluggers, and……… I saw him play.
Ricky Henderson
 Who was and still is the greatest leadoff hitter of all time? Yes, Ricky. He was faster than anyone before him and talked more trash than anyone since. He was the original collar popper. Nothing made a young Dunn happier than seeing him tee off, do that little hop while popping his collar, and seeing the opposing pitcher snarl in disbelief. Ricky defined so many things in the sport that he very well could still dominate today. And if you ask him, he should be. He is the alltime leader in like a dozen categories, but this neon filled decade was his true coming out party. Just ask a Jays fan about the ’89 ALCS. Oh you can’t because we don’t live in Canada. But I’m sure you catch my drift.
80’s credentials- 130 steals in 1982 (still a record that will never be broken and was more than 10 teams had total that year), .400 OB%, 8 x AllStar, 2 Silver Sluggers (he batted leadoff!), 1 Gold Glove, 1 World Series Title, uncouthed swagger and a mean curl to boot
So there you have it. You can choose to agree or disagree, but in the end, we are satisfied, because you are debating. Can’t you just smell the fresh-cut grass and damp leather. Ahh, baseball season is here.

Sh!t that makes you most f@cking angry

Shield your childrens’ eyes. Lead the elderly into the next room. Save the innocent now. LND is about to get profane. If you don’t like the potty mouth, then what the fuck are you doing reading Late Night Debates in the first place?

Why all the warnings? Because this LND staffer is having a baaaaaad fucking week. I just shat away $11,750 selling my old house (thanks for flooding the market with foreclosures, all you financial fucktards!), I got rear-ended by some New Jersey dickwagon and my dog ate a bunch of anti-inflamatories and had to get her stomach pumped full of charcoal to not die (for an additional cool $400) – and that was just Monday. And, to think, I’m going to Atlantic City this weekend. I’m sure that’s going to turn out well (To my friends: If I die at the hands of angry Eastern European strippers, avenge me.)

Before you offer me some cheese with all that whine, let me A) offer my pre-emptive “shut the fuck up” and B) concede that I understand there are plenty of folks who have it worse. I could be this guy. And you know what Mr. Tree Man is sitting there thinking? At least I’m not from Haiti.

What I’m trying to say is I’m not here to whine. I’m here to be angry. I’m fucking angrier than a constipated Lewis Black stuck in a rehab clinic with a strict no hookers policy. I’m angrier than Lou Ferrigno in Hulk makeup at ComicCon being asked by a 12-year-old if he’s ever met the real Hulk, Eric Bana. I’m angrier than…Oh, what? You get the point? Fuck you! I’m angrier than Dick Cheney after … well, I’m just angrier than Dick Cheney. That’s pretty goddamn angry, people.

And when I’m this pissed off, I just want to get more pissed off thinking about shit that pisses me off the most. So harness the rage, kick a puppy and soak in my flooding tub of darkness, bitches. Here is just a sampling of the things that really grind my gears:

That a crazy asshole killed Auburn’s 130-year-old live oaks on Toomer’s Corner


The greatest tradition I have ever experienced this side of Christmas is what takes place in Auburn, Ala., at a little intersection in the prettiest little village on the plains called Toomer’s Corner following every victory of the Auburn Tigers football team. The masses descend to unleash thousands of rolls of toilet paper in celebration. It’s a uniquely college experience, it’s euphoric, it’s as inhibitionless as showing your titties at Mardi Gras. It will also be no more.

Some crazy Bear Bryant-worshipping fucknad from the backsticks of Buttrape, Alabama, decided to act on a 20-year-old grudge by dumping enough herbicide on the famous 130-year-old trees to kill ’em dead. If I could punish this redneck dipshit, I’d just desecrate his Bear Bryant sex doll. But I hope the authorities of Alabama just set him free because Auburn has almost as many batshit crazy banjo-playing, mother fucking, sister fingering, Deliverence-looking fans as Alabama and I imagine they have something a little less penitentiary and a little more penetration in mind for the Tide Tree Poisoner.

That Glen ‘Big Baby’ Davis is 6’9 and can’t dunk

Seriously, Big Baby? I am 6’3, white and sit at a desk all day, and I can throw down a volleyball on a regulation 10 foot rim. Your horrific attempt at a breakaway dunk is pathetic enough to just make me sad, but the fact that you are 6’9 makes that perhaps the most significant dunk fail in NBA history.

Big Baby is a fairly lovable guy. He cries when Kevin Garnett gets mad at him. He looks like Shrek. He seems like the kind of guy who would start giggling if you whispered the word “poop” in his ear. But this isn’t about Baby. This is about being a 6’9 professional basketball player with less ups than Stephen Hawking.

John Boehner’s crying rag

For fuck’s sake, man! You’re the fucking Speaker of the House of fucking Representatives! Man the fuck up and stop crying. You’re not winning hearts and votes with your fake ass routine. You just look like a walking advertisement for lithium. Every politician on the planet knows you save your big cry for the press conference after you get caught cheating on your wife, but this fucking douchebag is out there crying over votes to make Ronald Reagan’s birthday a national holiday. Man, I hate that fucking guy.

New Jersey

Fuck you for wasting 90 minutes of my life on the way from Philadelphia to New York, you peanut-in-a-piece-of-shit looking waste of space. The only thing worse than the industrial stink haze that hangs in your air like the smell of vagina in a hot room after sex is your people. To experience the giant hair, orange skin and grating voice of the average New Jerseyan is to understand why the state leads the nation in number of people committing suicide by throwing themselves in front of commuter trains.


Cell phones

Just because I own a cell phone does not mean I am obligated to talk to you when you call me. The only thing I hate more than cell phones – people that won’t stop playing with their phones when you’re around them. Oh, no, don’t mind me, iPhone guy. I’ll just sit here and rub soy sauce on my balls while you message 17 people who are also probably acting like assfaces and ignoring the real life people sitting next to them.


Unnecessary sequels

Just stop already. Fuck me!





When the store is sold out of delicious Totino’s frozen pizzas

Goddammit, I am actually getting angrier just thinking about this.








Want to vote on which of these things make you the most angry? Fuck you – I’m too mad to put up a poll. Put up your own fucking poll.

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