Cinco de Mayo

There ain't no holdin' the Mayo going on today!  Well, except maybe at Ted Nugent's house...

JUST HORSING AROUND
It's the first Saturday in May, thus it's Kentucky Derby day.  Great tradition, great spectacle and all, but ain't it just a tad warped that NBC does an hour-and-a-half pre-game show for something that barely lasts two minutes?  They had commercial breaks longer than the race was.  Churchill Downs certainly looks so elegant in all its equine splendor on TV, but most people would be as surprised as I was about where it's located.  I always pictured the track to be situated outside of the city somewhere in a country club-like setting, so imagine my shock during a recent trip to Lou-Ville when I found the place bordering a fairly seedy urban neighborhood.  To my Kansas City friends, picture the Leeds District and you'll get the idea.

As for the race itself, my pick to win, Stormello (based solely on his cool name) was actually in 4th place rounding the third turn then faded away like Ricky Martin's career.  A horse named Street Sense won the race, and his jockey was crying like Nancy Kerrigan when it was over.  Sorry, dude--there's no crying in horse racing!!  Meantime, I think they need to spice up horse racing a little to raise interest in the sport.  Apart from the obvious idea of topless female jockeys, there are other things they could try to make it a little more fun.  I say we make it a joint effort between horse and jockey—as soon as they cross the finish line, the jockeys should dismount and then run a full lap themselves...

WHATEVER!
The current Al-Quida second banana—Mukka-Lukka Al-So-and-So—is said to be mocking the Iraq war pull-out bill that was laid before Congress this week.  So?!?  Why the hell is this even newsworthy?  These towel-headed Allah-loving bastards are going to mock anything the U.S. does anyway, so why does the news media bother to even give these douche-bags the publicity they're looking for?  I say fuck them and the camels they rode in on...

KNOW WHEN TO SAY WHEN
I suspected this all along, but was hoping all the same that the cause of St. Louis Cardinals pitcher Josh Hancock's death this week was not alcohol-related, yet it indeed was.  Moreover, it was also marijuana-related and cell phone-related.  Okay, we ALL do dumb things, and I do my fair share of imbibing, to be sure, but I do so responsibly and I do NOT get behind the wheel when I know I'm too fucked-up to drive.  So, at the risk of sounding hypocritical and/or cold-hearted, I just have one word to say about the dearly departed:  DUMBASS.

CLASSIC MISHEARD LYRIC #29
"Travelin’ Man/Beautiful Loser"—BOB SEGER & THE SILVER BULLET BAND (1975) "A perfect lodger/a perfect guest."  Dopey me—I thought he said "A perfect logic/a perfect guess."  I don’t suppose Mr. Spock would have been too impressed with my logic there…

IF YOU EVER GET TOTALLY BORED...
...and want to have a little harmless fun, try watching a baseball game on TV sometime in front of a mirror.  You lose all orientation when the batter appears to start heading to third base after he hits the ball!  My guess is it's probably not unlike driving a car on the "wrong side" of the road in England for the first time.  It's even more fun during a game broadcast from Fenway Park in Boston with the Green Monster on the wrong side.  Yes—I know I need to get a life...

A TALE OF IN-DUH-VIDUALISM
I submitted the following the almighty Dilbert newsletter, but it has yet to be published:  A few years back at a previous employer, they had just installed a new phone system throughout the building, but encountered some problems early on, so our manager sent out a memo to everyone.  "If you have any problems making calls or if your phone doesn't work, please contact me at Extension A or Jackie at Extension B."  Dumb question, but if my phone doesn't work, how am I gonna contact anyone at Ext. A or B?!?  The appropriate question in this case wasn't "Who you gonna call?" but "How you gonna call?"

D'OH!
My beloved New Jersey Devils went down to defeat in the Stanley Cup Playoffs tonight at the hands of the Ottawa Senators, losing 3-2 in Game 5 of the best-of-seven series.  My devotion to the Devils was borne in part because the franchise began life as the Kansas City Scouts in 1974, then moved to Denver and became the Colorado Rockies (not to be confused with the current baseball squad of the same name) in '76, eventually settling in with Jimmy Hoffa in the swamps of Joysey 25 years ago in '82.  However, what really drew me to this team was how crappy they were for so long (not even making the playoffs until the early '90s) and how I love to root for an underdog, so I've been on their bandwagon from almost the get-go.  Three Stanley Cups in the last 12 years ain't nothing to sneeze at, either.  How many Stanley Cups have the overpaid New York Strangers snagged in the last 12 years, hmmm?  I also love the Devils because they have the coolest uniforms in the NHL as well as how their name pisses off overly-conservative über-Christians everywhere, plus Martin Brodeur is the baddest goaltender in hockey—a sure-shot Hall of Famer.  Better luck next year, gentlemen...