It Must Be "State the Obvious" Day

I was sitting in front of the television watching ESPN, and when Sportscenter ended I decided to give the ladies some props and check out the NCAA Women's Softball Tournament. Everything was fine until a female announcer made this astute observation: "They call it softball, but the ball isn't soft."

Do they think I'm retarded? I immediately changed the channel to something that insults my intelligence a little less: It was a "Watch Guys Take One in the Ballbag" Edition of America's Funniest Home Videos.

I hope ESPN unleashes this brilliant announcer on every televised sport, just to see what she'll say.

"Footballs aren't really made of feet."

"Horses are terrible piano players."

"That sailboat isn't supposed to sink. Or be on fire."

"I think his four aces will beat a pair of threes. Uh, let me check..."

If they're going to let someone stupid appear on national television, my first choice would be Jessica Simpson.

Oh Insomnia, You Filthy Bitch-Whore

I thought about a few things last night, in lieu of sleep:

-There is a type of girl you can impress by eating a dozen deviled eggs one after another, but you don't want to date her.

-Right now the guy who came in twelfth on American Idol is having a three-way with two Brazilian supermodels while I'm trying to induce sleep by drinking Nyquil.

Actually, it isn't even real Nyquil; it's the generic Walgreen's version. But at least I've never had to pleasure Paula Abdul with an oversized rubber fist while Simon Cowell does push ups in the corner.

-There is one band that's worse than Hinder, but they only play a lounge in hell, and so far Hitler is the lone name on the guest list.

-I have an idea: Mail out a postcard with the question "Who Should Replace Rosie O'Donnell on The View?" Whoever takes time to answer the question and mail the postcard back, round them up and execute them in a massive pay-per-view event. Use the money earned to pay off the national debt.

-Okay, if execution is too harsh, then tickle them until they pee their pants.

-Men, if you wear jeans that look like this we're going to have to revoke your Guy Card. You'll be too busy debating "Who's better: Fall-Out Boy or Yellow Card?" to even notice.

-I won't see a movie in a theater unless it's rated R. It's the only way to weed out most of the obnoxious teens and tweeners who routinely turn movie houses into their own jailbait nightclub. "Hey, cover is only nine dollars! Let's party!" Fuck those little cretins, fuck their loud cell phone conversations and most of all fuck their witless banter throughout the entirety of the film. Damn, I'm an old bastard.

Let's talk about a blog I hate

-I don't believe I've ever called out a blog for being a steaming pile of horse shit, but I'm not getting any younger (or less fat) so now's as good a time as any. I am not a fan of this little slice of internet fluff. I understand that the "posts" are sent in by readers, which sort of makes it Post Secret for people who don't have any angst, but that doesn't make it any less abysmal. It's almost like a focus group of people who hate me got together to devise the one blog that would anger me most of all.

"Let's see, he hates pseudo-cute pictures of cats."

"And he isn't too fond of unfunny captions, either; so let's combine the two."

"Oh, and have the captions be written in some sort of slangy retard gibberish. He loathes that shit."

Well...mission accomplished, fuckers! All their blog needs is a Hair Metal soundtrack and guest opinions by Ann Coulter to make me go on a multi-state wounding spree. (I'm not a murderer, but I've always wanted to go on wounding spree across the Midwest and South. "He came out of nowhere and hit me in the leg. I'll probably have a bruise tomorrow.")

I really don't get the appeal of this thing. Yes, I know people love animals, in some cases more than they love other human beings; but I love pizza, and if someone put moron-speak captions under pictures of pie, I would be equally unamused.

The Bar Non-Meme

I'm going to name my favorite places to drink, but this doesn't count as a meme because I wasn't tagged by anyone and I don't intend to do any tagging of my own. I'm just going to name my favorite places to partake of alcoholic beverages.

The Back Door Bar and Grille is NOT a gay bar; no self-respecting gay person would be caught dead in the dump. It used to be the smokiest place on Earth, but they spent $100,000 on a ventilation system to make it only the fourth smokiest place on Earth. Money well spent, if you ask me. If you order a Maker's and coke here, be prepared for at least a four finger pour of bourbon; and you won't be charged a lot for it, either. The infamous "Back Door Pour" has wrecked the livers of a generation of Louisvillians.

I've mentioned the Cumberland Brews brewpub about a million times on this blog, but no list of my favorite bars would be complete without it. It's a small place with great beer and delicious food. There are four (4) tables outside, and I get there every Sunday at 12:45pm to secure one before they open for business.






I'm not a big chain guy, but I have to add the Buffalo Wild Wings in the St. Matthew's neighborhood of Louisville. Why? Because this is the home of the Thursday Wing and Beer Night, when I meet a group of friends, old and new, to get the weekend started a little early. Frankly, this isn't as nice as some of the newer B-Dubs locations in town (the men's room ALWAYS has an overpowering smell that just has to be the Devil's urine), but I go there for the company, not the atmosphere.

Oh, and the outdoor patio is nice during those three weeks in the spring before it gets hot and those three weeks in the fall before it gets cold.


Every time I go to the Monkey Wrench I have a good time, but I think that has a lot to do with the Derby City Roller Girls always being there. Also, they get points off for closing at 2am instead of the Louisville standard 4am. It's a restaurant first and a bar second, but it's still a pretty damn good bar.

The Mag Bar is the prototypical hipster bar in town, but they're nice enough to let an uncool, non-tattooed guy like me join the fun for the strong cheap drinks and great jukebox.

El Mundo, one of my favorite places to eat, also makes my drinks list because of the awesome margaritas. I usually get an original on the rocks, but they have a blood orange frozen margarita that can't be beat.




I don't hang out a lot at Bourbons Bistro because it's a bit pricey. It's also primarily a restaurant; a highly regarded restaurant, I might add.

But I have to give them props for having the most extensive bourbon selection in the country. Over 130 bourbons are featured, some unavailable anywhere else in the city.

Sometimes I just want to sit and relax, and Riverbend Winery is the perfect place for that. Good appetizers, crepes for desert, and low key music make this the perfect place to chill out. It's located in an as-yet underdeveloped area of downtown, so the crowds aren't there yet. If it were in a trendier neighborhood you couldn't get in the place.



There are so many more places: The Outlook Inn, O'Shea's, the Pour Haus, Barret Bar, etc. Yeah, I'm a drunk.

Oh yeah, I did live in Las Vegas for almost four years, didn't I? For my favorite place to drink, I'm going to forgo the massive nightclubs on the Strip for the very nice Whiskey Bar inside the Green Valley Ranch casino in Henderson. It's kind of upscale and the drinks are pricey, but I always enjoyed siting outside on their patio. And one of the bartenders was not only the hottest woman I've ever seen in person, she could make a damn good Manhattan.

Like I said, I'm not tagging anyone. If you want to post your favorite bars, let us know in the comments.

Is this immature?

T-Shirt of an American Asshole

I was out this past weekend trying to get drunk and forget my many troubles when my buzz was mortally wounded by a supreme douche wearing this t-shirt.

I'm not even going to debate the war right now. Really, I'm not in the fucking mood. My only question for the guy wearing this t-shirt is this: "Why the fuck aren't you in Iraq, asshole?"

He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, so why didn't he volunteer to NOT BE A CHICKEN? Why was he showing his bravery by downing Bud Light at a bar in Louisville, KY? Wouldn't he and his courageousness better serve this country by dodging bullets in Baghdad?

People like him make me sick to my stomach. How dare this fucking scumbag mock someone's deeply held beliefs when he doesn't have the grapes to back up his own opinion. And what kind of brain dead buffoon equates bravery with demanding OTHER PEOPLE die on foreign soil?

To suggest that those who want peace, those who want our troops to stop coming home in body bags, are somehow cowards while you "support the troops" by doing body shots off of shapely female bar staffers is the very definition of hypocrisy; and deserves a shoe to the 'nads.

To summarize: Fuck that shirt. Fuck the company that sells it. Fuck everyone who wears it. And fuck Sean Hannity for using the shirt as a jizz rag while masturbating to a transcript of his horrid TV show.

Things I was reminded of when visiting Vegas

I spent last weekend in Las Vegas. For the uninitiated, I lived in the Vegas area for over three-and-a-half years. In that time I learned some things about Sin City. Some of those things were quite troubling and still scar me to this very day.

"He who forgets the past is doomed to repeat it." I forget who said that (maybe it was Schneider from One Day at a Time), but they were right for once. So here are a few things I won't soon forget:

Boobs
There may be a place on Earth where more women show more cleavage than in Las Vegas, but it's probably a place that has an alarming mortality rate and several strains of near-fatal dysentery. Whereas in Vegas, if you stay away from the high crime areas Northeast of the Strip, the only thing that'll die are your dreams.

Traffic
Every minute of every day on every road is the mall on the day after Thanksgiving. That's all you need to know.

Gambling
They don't build billion-dollar casinos by letting some biscuit-fed honky like me take any of their money. But I did discover something at the Bellagio: I can drink three free Maker's and Cokes, which would normally cost $10 each, in the time it takes me to piss away $2o playing video poker. See, so I'm up ten bucks, although the cost to my liver is probably immeasurable.

Gambling, Part 2
The slot machine is the Devil's surrogate. It does His nefarious bidding. Honestly, slot machines are crack for middle-aged and elderly white folk. Pretty soon, as more and more states allow gaming, the suburbs will be filled with strung-out crackers giving head for a roll of tokens.

Buffets
Are there any more beautiful words in the English language than "all-you-can-eat"? Not if you're a fat guy, there aren't. Having lived in Vegas, and being a fat guy and all, I've seen a few buffets in my time. Now, please forgive me, for I'm about to make a SWEEPING RACIAL GENERALIZATION. I usually avoid the SRG because I know most of them are completely false. For instance, my friend Wu is a black guy who can't dance. However, and I say this without hesitation, ASIANS LOVE BUFFETS. There, I said it and I'm glad I said it! If I could open a buffet that also sold Ralph Lauren clothing, I'd be rich; and I'd have the Asians to thank for my wealth.

A post inspired by Ubie's blog

An anonymous commenter on my friend Ubermilf's blog suggested her next post be about how "pencils are good to write with."

First of all, ouch. Mr. or Ms. Anonymous is going to poke out an eye with that rapier wit. Also, since Ubie responded by calling him/her a pussy, I surmised it would be up to me to answer the call for a pencil post.

Yes, I concur, "pencils are good to write with"; even when ending a sentence in a preposition. They come in especially handy when writing the obituary of anonymous negative commenters. With the pencil's convenient built-in eraser, you can make sure the obit is easy to read with nice small words so his/her semi-retarded and wholly retarded friends and family don't accidentally pay their respects at the wrong pauper's grave.

Then Ubie did a post about horrid Country and Western clothes and I immediately thought about country music legend and leisure suit enthusiast Conway Twitty.

Okay, quick poll: Which Conway Twitty do you prefer?

Young Hair Helmet Conway...























OR.....

Older Man-Perm Conway?




















You decide. It's too close to call as far as I'm concerned.

Vegass Revisited

I'm going to Las Vegas for a friend's wedding. Wish me luck.

And who knew Beelzebub was so fuckin' hot? I'd deal with eternal damnation to get some of that.

"Get in front of thee, Satan. And bend over."

The Restaurant Meme

My friend Andi recently did a very cool restaurant meme, and even though she didn't tag me directly (breaking my heart in the process) I've taken it upon myself to do it anyway. So there.

The rules:1. Add a direct link to your post below the name of the person who tagged you (or in my case, the person who completely ignored you).

Include the city/state and country you’re in.
Nicole (Sydney, Australia)
velverse (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)
LB (San Giovanni in Marignano, Italy)
Selba (Jakarta, Indonesia)
Olivia (London, England)
ML (Utah, USA)
Lotus (Toronto, Canada)
tanabata (Saitama, Japan)
Andi (Dallas [ish], Texas, United States)
Todd (Louisville, Kentucky, United States)

2. List out your top 5 favorite places to eat at your location.

3. Tag 5 other people (preferably from other countries/states) and let them know they’ve been tagged.

Okay, here are my Top Five. I'm not saying these are the five best restaurants in town; they're just the ones I enjoy the most.







Good Tex-Mex food is almost non-existent in this town, but El Mundo does "upscale" Mexican food in a very downscale atmosphere. Their fine menu is complimented by their selection of daily specials (I get the rock shrimp burrito when it's available). They also have the city's best guacamole and only use 100% blue agave tequila in their margaritas.








I never had Cuban food until I moved back to Louisville and friends kept telling me about Havana Rumba . I can't believe I went so long without experiencing the culinary bliss of lechon asado or a delicious Cubano sandwich served with sweet potato fries. For dessert, I recommend three or four of their signature mojitos.








If you're ever in Louisville and want to find Lynn's Paradise Cafe, just look for the giant red coffee pot. This is probably the weirdest place you'll ever eat unless you've been to Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch, and it's mercifully free of skin-bleached pedophiles.

But I don't go there for the atmosphere; I go there for the breakfasts. They have the best biscuits and gravy on earth, and Lynn's Bourbon Ball French Toast was recently featured on the Food Network. However, the thing I like best about Lynn's is their sponsorship of the annual Ugly Lamp Contest at the Kentucky State Fair. That's what I call giving back to the community.





No mention of food would be complete without a shout out to the perfect meal, pizza. The best pizza I've ever had comes from Impellizeri's. They're opening in a new location and don't have their website up yet, so here's a picture of the pizza itself. A photo doesn't do justice to this masterpiece, though. It's the most flavorful pizza I've ever eaten. I challenge anyone, even my friends from Chicago, to find a better pie.










For my fifth and final restaurant, I'm traveling thirty miles east of Louisville to Shelbyville, KY, for a Sunday buffet so good...uh...so good I'd set foot in Shelbyville just to eat there.

The Science Hill Inn buffet is a feast of crispy fried chicken, country ham, mashed potatoes, beef brisket, shrimp and grits, cornbread, biscuits, and assorted casseroles and salads. This doesn't remind me of how I ate as a kid - I'm a city boy - but every single item on the buffet is prepared to perfection. Probably the best fried chicken I've ever had.
After all that, there's a choice of desserts, but if you don't get the biscuit bread pudding with Maker's Mark bourbon sauce you're a fucking tool.





Ok, I'm hungry now. I'll tag Ubie, Kendra, Brooke, Steph, and Ms. Hellion.

Ms. Hellion is a friend of mine who also lives in Louisville, but I'm choosing her because I hope she picks Kashmir, a great Indian restaurant that almost made my list.

If you haven't been tagged feel free to either do this on your blog or leave a brief review of one of your favorite restaurants in the comments. I'd like to know where to eat in case I ever travel.

BROUGHT BACK BY OUTRAGE!!!

I wasn't going to post again until right before my Vegas mini-vacation this weekend, but something happened in my hometown last week that I feel I need to address.

OJ Simpson was in town for the Kentucky Derby. That's OJ at Churchill Downs, surrounded by a gaggle of douchey-looking frat types who seem thrilled to be in the presence of a man who almost cut his wife's fucking head off.

OJ was all around Louisville last week. He gave his Derby prediction to the local newspaper (his horse, Tiago, finished seventh, leading the ghost of Johnny Cochran to quip "His brains are scrambled, he shouldn't have gambled"). Later in the week he continued his painstaking search for the "real killers" of Ron and Nicole by playing a round of golf at an exclusive private course.

On top of that, a friend of mine saw him eating dinner at the new Basa Modern Vietnamese Restaurant. Another rumor had him feasting on nuevo-Latin cuisine at Seviche. Okay, now that pisses me off! I don't care about horse racing or golf, but it really bothers me that a man who owes Fred Goldman millions of dollars from a civil suit can waltz into my hometown and eat lavish meals that I can't afford! Hey, I'm no angel, and yes, I know if I want to be able to go to a restaurant and order macadamia encrusted sea bass with cranberry-scallion cous cous and passion fruit sauce I could apply myself and get a better-paying job, BUT AT LEAST I'M NOT A DOUBLE MURDERER!!!

Doesn't not being a double murderer count for anything these days? Shouldn't it get me a lousy half-order of the god damn rocoto chile-rubbed shrimp with horseradish chimichirri and jicima salsa?!? I'm sure OJ was popping those shrimp down his biscuit-hole like they were jellybeans. And not Jelly Bellys either, but those cheap kind you get at Walgreen's. Fuck him. He should choke on a shrimp and someone should cut it out of his throat with a giant butcher knife.

I realize OJ was found not guilty by twelve people who think DNA evidence is the devil's business, but I don't believe he should be afforded the same rights as non-killing citizenry. Every time that piece of shit sits down to an expensive meal or tees off at a country club golf course it's a slap in the face to the families of Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown. "Hey, look America! Fred Goldman has never received a penny from me and right now a Brazilian supermodel is rubbing Beluga caviar all over my taint."

At the very least, OJ Simpson should be denied a table at a popular restaurant during this city's busiest week. Is that too much to ask?

"Yes, we have a table for six available, but it's in the non-murderer section. Sorry."

"Yes, Mr. Simpson, we have you down for a nine a.m. tee time, but I'm afraid you'll have to use Nerf golf clubs. Yes that's right, golf clubs made of foam rubber. We can't have you losing your mind and bashing in the skulls of our valued customers."

He already got away with murder. Does he have to benefit from it?

Be back soon?

I'm just going to take a little break. I'll still be on IM and if you flash the Todd symbol into the night sky, I'll be there in mere seconds.

Later.

Okay, so I want to bang a right-wing political pundunt

I want to have crazy, drunken, dangerous sex with this woman. She's conservative commentator and former Republican speech writer Amy Holmes, and I fell in lust while disagreeing with almost everything she said on Bill Maher's show a few weeks ago.

I want to practice supply-side fuckanomics with this vixen. I want to demonstrate the trickle-down theory, if you know what I mean.

Oh, there would be downsides to a relationship with Amy Holmes. For one, I'd have to listen to her endless prattle about school vouchers and the repeal of the estate tax. And, dare I say, dating a black conservative from Washington, D.C. would probably mean at least one Fourth of July weekend at Clarence Thomas' house for a Nascar-themed cookout (where the phrase "Pass the potato salad, baby-killer" would be tossed at me repeatedly).

But it would be worth it, I tell you, at least until the inevitable BIG ARGUMENT:

Amy: "Honey, don't forget Saturday night we have that cocktail party at Trent Lott's house."

Me: "Trent Lott? Oh for fuck's sake..."

Amy: "Who listened to Al Franken for an hour and a half at that Correspondence Dinner last month, just to make you happy?"

Me: "Darling, if Trent Lott had his way you wouldn't have the right to vote."

And that would pretty much be the end of it.