Saturday, October 31, 2009

Mad Dog's Tentacles Are Long...

His Street Cred Grows...
Mad Dog, sentenced to life in prison, is running a global criminal enterprise once more. Now, instead of cash, he's dealing in cigarettes, contraband, and a stable of prison bitches. But, you can't keep a Mad Dog on the porch. (Even when that porch has steel bars, sixteen foot walls, guard towers and razor tape.)

When Mad Dog learned that his former associate, Jeffry Picower was being pressured about the $7 billion he had made from Madoff-related investments, Mad Dog took matters into his own hands.

It's amazing what a couple of cartons of Newports will get you these days.

Jeffry Picower was found dead last weekend, at the bottom of his swimming pool.

A victim of a heart attack. (At least it looked like a heart attack.)

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Dynamic Douche-o

Batman and Robin?
I was talking to my friend, N., who said she pictured these chaps, attired in tights, sliding down the pole, to jump in the Batmobile. (Which, coincidentally, is shaped like a giant bat.) Then, racing off to fight crime and against good baseball commentary.

I can see it now: Commissioner Selig has the searchlight, which illuminates the skies over Gotham, with a beam in the shape of a baseball. This tells the Dynamic Douche-o that there is a baseball game to be broadcast, with all sorts of annoyingly stupid remarks to be made. For three hours and forty two minutes. On Fox.

"Holy Hardball, Batman! Joe Girardi is not making a pitching change."

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Tool Catalogue...

The Lifeguard Offers These Suggestions:

Regardless of your political orientation, sexual orientation, or point of origination, here are three basic rules to avoid being laughed at by The Lifeguard.

First, don't wear your hat backward. Not only does it look stupid (unless you are Jorge Posada, and you are on a baseball diamond), it...well...looks stupid. It looks even worse when the hat is over-sized, the brim is flat, and it covers the tops of the ears. Or, if you are the President of the United States.

Second, if you are over the age of 16, don't wear a Posada (for example) jersey. (Unless, of course, you are Jorge Posada.) This is another one of those douchey things that guys do (in hopes of impressing girls who are impressed by losers in replica jerseys). The only possible exception would be the guy who wears a New York Knights jersey, bearing the number 9. (Bonus points if you know which Knight wore number 9.)

Finally, don't piss me off.

That is all.

Friday, October 16, 2009


Last weekend, The Lifeguard journeyed to dear old Wake Forest to partake in the Homecoming festivities, see old friends, and make a few new ones. Oh, and to see the Demon Deacons beat Maryland.*

The beauty of the Wake Forest campus, even after twenty-two years, still brings a tear to my eye, especially given the fondness I have for my alma mater. And, truth be told, this trip meant more to me than any other. If only I could go back....

But, I can't.

*Sadly, The Lifeguard could not stay for the game; and, as such, missed the opportunity to see a Wake victory--a rarity when I was at university--and to roll The Quad.


Not Only Do I Hate The Fox Sports Broadcast Team...
Erick Aybar and Chone Figgins fail to communicate, allowing Hideki Matsui's infield fly ball drop, impotently, to the dirt in New Yankee Stadium. This allowed Matsui to rack up an infield hit--and an RBI--putting the dreaded Evil Empire up, 2-0, in the first inning.

This prompted me to consider a couple--actually, three--things:

First, how do you get "Sean" from Chone? What are they putting in the water in Leary, Georgia that makes mothers give their children ridiculous names? Where is Leary, Georgia?

Second, is it fair that Hideki Matsui's cousin scores the game? How in the name of sweet Jesus was that a motherhumping hit?

Finally, do they not know the "Rule of Nine" in Bani, Dominican Republic? Shouldn't you make that catch for $460,000.00 a year? Shouldn't you make that catch if you want to make more than $460,000.00 next year? Hell, my 11 year old makes that catch (most of the time) for free. (And, if he doesn't, at least he called it.) Oh, and I almost forgot...47 degrees at game time is not an excuse to wear the hood. There are people who go to see the Green Bay Packers play, in December, without their shirts. He's playing baseball, and the excitement of playing in the ALCS should keep him warm. (Plus, he might have been able to hear Figgins tell him to take it.)

F^%$ing Evil Empire.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

And The Lifeguard Wept...

I Hate Norway!
Barack Hussein Obama, America's 44th President, who is also not a Muslim, won the 2009 Edition of the Nobel Peace Prize. Said one member of the committee, Olaf Knudsen, "We gave the award to President Obama because he hates America as much as we do. He is just like Jimmy Carter."

Yes, great. BHO gets a cool mill (after taxes), gets a medal, and guarantees himself a steady stream of invites from the likes of other America haters such as Robert Mugabe, Hugo Chavez, Raul Castro (and don't forget Fidel), and any other tin-pot dictator who laments America's (or the West's) pre-eminence in the world.

I mean, really...why BHO (except for the fact that he talks a good game)?

President Reagan defeated communism. President Bush 41 presided over the dismantling of the Berlin Wall (and formed a coalition of nations to kick Saddam Hussein's ass back to Baghdad). President Clinton got tons of ass. (Literally, tons of ass. I mean, really, did you see Monica Lewinsky?) President Bush 43 finished the job his father started, forming another coalition, enforcing 17 breached UN Resolutions, and driving a murdering, raping thug from power. Did any of these guys get the Nobel? Not a chance.

Instead, President Obama wins it.

If he were really that smart, really that patriotic, he'd have told the Nobel Committee that he didn't want their stinking medal. Instead, a president with nearly no accomplishments in nearly a year in office takes the medal, shits on America, and gives the post-American world something to cheer.

The sad part? There is no where to run. No where to hide.

For their efforts, The Nobel Committee wins the coveted "Dumbass of the Week" award. Unlike the Nobel Peace Prize, this award comes with absolutely nothing but The Lifeguard's scorn and ridicule.

Friday, October 09, 2009


jetBlows is more like it.
Cheap seats, 35 channels of DirecTV in the seat back in front of you, leather seats, no baggage fees. All good things, indeed.

However, cheap travel also brings with it a glorious collection of retards and nitwits that would, without jetBlue (and AirTran, et al.) be doggin' it.

As I boarded my flight this morning--a short hop from one Northeast airport to another Northeast airport--I endured (albeit with 35 channels of DirecTV in the seat back) the twentysomething couple next to me who attacked each others faces like a ravenous wolverines attacking a...well, whatever ravenous wolverines attack. I might have suggested that the two lust birds get a room; but, that seemed redundant since she had her own pillow.

Now, The Lifeguard is not one to judge anyone (well, yes, I am); but, who in the crikey fuck brings a pillow on a plane? (Especially one that quite clearly doesn't have a clean pillow case and the 3000 threadcount linens that The Lifeguard prefers.)

Across the aisle, the African couple, complete with native headdress and obviously fake gold jewelry, sat down to enjoy their repast of goat fritters and emu egg omelets. The smell--which is to say "stench"--of their sustenance polluted the cabin air for the duration of the short flight. I am rather certain that their carry-on bag contained the family chickens and a small collection of native herbs and plants (or, what passes for health care in Sub-Saharan Africa).

Finally, The Lifeguard was forced to endure the indignity of the day sans Starbucks (since The Lifeguard flat out refuses to drink Pike's Blend), or a tall glass, filled with ice, Grey Goose, and tomato juice.

Fuck, the flight for the next leg of my journey is now being called.

Although The Lifeguard is traveling, The Lifeguard is back.

Regular posting resumes today.

(And, as my friend J might ask: "Are ya busy?")

Thursday, October 08, 2009

It's been awhile...

The Lifeguard Has Been Doing His Part!
October, as y'all know, is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. (Frankly, The Lifeguard is aware of breasts twelve months a year, but that's another story.)
So, learn how to perform an exam, ladies. Have a mammogram. Call The Lifeguard. Whatever. Early detection is the key.
Next month, Colorectal Cancer Awareness Thursday. (Face it, the asshole is just not as appealing as a beautiful pair of breasts.)

Thursday, October 01, 2009

I was pissed....

They Gave Me A Rolex!
My next-door neighbours, a young lesbian couple, asked me what I wanted for my birthday.

I told them I wanted to watch.