Showing posts with label growing a beard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growing a beard. Show all posts

4.13.2011

Wednesday's Geeked Over Playoffs...

Tonight, out long national nightmare concludes. The Stanley Cup Playoffs finally begin. In it's honor, I have begun the PLAYOFF BEARD, the most venerable of Lord Stanley's traditions...


Max Talbot, of my beloved Penguins, rockin' a great playoff beard...


My efforts aren't quite as impressive; however, I am only 7 days into my Playoff Beard...


Not too shabby. Not too shabby at all...



But, this morning I'd like to share with you two of my other favorite things about the Stanley Cup playoffs, one so happens to be of the musical variety, the other, awesomeness....


FIRST, the Penguins Goal Horn....



BWAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH



SECOND, there's nothing like listening to the Blackhawks' iconic "Chelsea Dagger", particularly when it comes at the expense of the choking  perpetually choking Vancouver Canucks.



Schadenfreude never gets old...


Anyway, have fun kids and let's hope for a helluva' lot of fun over the next few weeks!
.d.s



12.16.2010

Stumped by what to wear: Men, too, have this problem.

I'm seriously out of my realm here in the style department; let that be said first thing out of the gate. On the weekends, when I ordinarily go do physical activities, shop, and generally get caught up on the business of life, you will see me in a white/black/gray tee shirt, shorts and sandals. (Remember, it's 84 degrees and sunny every day, and this apartment -like many- doesn't have an air conditioner).

During work days, it's usually a dress aloha shirt/Polo and slacks or chinos, or traditional mainland business wear (Court days, sadly, are the only ones in which that I wear a tie (and I have a serious tie fetish. Besides, this isn't Honolulu or the East Coast where that sort of thing is de rigueur,  It's much more like the reservations I lived and worked on: People in full suits, besides being sweaty and uncomfortable, are viewed very suspiciously. Or, worse, as a Republican. And, trust me, we simply do not have Republicans on my Island (and that's also a shame...not the Republican part, but the lack of suit-wearing...I also have a suit fetish. Well-tailored, black or charcoal double-breasted ones, in fact).



 I see I'm not alone in that. BTW: I own that tie. Red ties are classic, powerful, and butch, dammit. This American Eagle shiny pastel shit has absolutely neutered the classic, clean, masculine suit.


So, Hawaii is the land of comfort and utility. But, there's one occasion that I wish to do this up right: My wedding. Yes, yes, Der Schatten is off the market (and has been for several years; although, the Fetching Frau Schatten may possibly share if you're a curvy brunette rocking the Black No. 1 <-- just one of many reasons I dig her).



Rest in Peace, Peter. Don't look at the Green Light...

 

Anyway, we're looking for suits to wear. I think the consensus opinion, as of this moment, at least,  is to rock the Morning Dress. Morning Dress looks a bit steam-punkish, as well it should. For over 200 years it has been the formal dress wear of the Royals. And, if you like jagged lines, and all the accoutrement and formal trappings, this is definitely your bag: Top hat, tails, gloves, cane, vest, etc.


Does this tie make me look like a doucher?
 

What I do not like about the traditional morning suit, however, is the heavy reliance on light gray. While I like gray, and it tends to look good on me, the above morning suit, for instance, is about as dark as morning suit slacks every get. In most cases, the color scheme for the vest and pants are reversed. While it is formal in Britain, I do not look good in, nor do I like, light-colored trousers.

Which brings me to my next option: The Morning Dress Tuxedo. There is literally very little that I don't like about this look, except for one very important fact: It is not only ridiculously formal, it will also likely be hot as shit to wear, while stand in the sun, on black sand and lava rocks, for an hour.



Awesome. 


Finally, it should be noted that of all the colors in the universe of clothing, perhaps the one that looks the best are brown-tones. I have a natural brown/dark yellow undertone, so I can pull off interesting colors, such as cream and pale yellows; golds and tans and browns, very well. Being the vane prick that I am, perhaps something in the earth-tones would be just as effective?

Smug doesn't do justice to this guy's face...
My biggest concern with the brown suit, however, is that it's not quite formal enough. And, let's face it, unless you drop $600, the chance that a brown suit will look cheap is very very high. The margin for error in brown is razor thin, and you ride the knife's edge between beautiful and cheap looking. Also, I do not think this will match. Everything in the wedding is monochromatic: Black and white. Classic. Timeless. Appropriate enough for the visitors, yet with enough wiggle room to really trick it out.

So many choices; so little time (March 12th). One thing is certain, though: On March 13, 2011, our paychecks will be larger (c'mon, how could you think that two lawyers wouldn't consider the financial impact of signing the social contract? Benefits and tax breaks, as well as homebuyer credits and lowered consolidated student loan payments, are as good a reason to get married as any!).

So, what sayeth the blogerrati? Traditional? Traditional tux? Brown?



-d.s.



5.24.2010

Your teeth are not tough...

 Bobby Clarke; Philadelphia Flyers great, Hall of Famer, Stanley Cup winner, and poster child for all toothless hockey players throughout the ages.



We mythologize about how tough hockey players are, and the toothless hockey player has become iconographic in those (largely White, cold) countries where the game is loved. But, dentifrice-be-damned, all of those frozen rubber discs smashing into the mouth at 100 mph takes its toll; mentally and certainly physically.



Ian LaPierre with another day at the office. Bonus points for the New Jersey fans cheering inadvertent violence and a shitload of blood.



Today, Yahoo's hockey blog Puck Daddy linked to an older story from the Globe and Mail about the dental horrors associated with the game. It is a fascinating read, and really goes to show that no matter how tough and manly these guys are, at the end of the day they are human: They fear the pain, they are scared when they get hit in the face, they are in a great deal of pain, and, yes, they regret the sacrifice. The whole article is worth reading, but here are some choice nuggets (emphasis added:

Tkachuk’s injury is an extreme example of the damage that sticks and pucks inflict on players’ mouths, but even minor blows can create a mess. Roughly half of the players in the league are missing at least some teeth, according to team dentists, with those 30 and over more likely to have had restorative work done.

Root canals are common, even for star players. (Tkachuk has had seven.). And because the inner areas of human teeth have the highest density of nerve endings in the body, catastrophic injuries can be more anguishing than broken limbs or torn ligaments. 

As a result, the team dentist is vital, and 19 NHL clubs list one or more on their website. The Chicago Blackhawks have four. On average, dentists have to evaluate a player every two or three games and do significant work about once a month.Some newer arenas even have a small dental suite in them.

Perhaps the busiest dentist in recent years has been the Washington Capitals’ Thomas Lenz, who helped repair former captain Chris Clark’s broken palate bone in 2006 – “it was basically sitting in the back of his throat when I got to him” – in one of the more horrific dental injuries.



All in all, a fascinating, if not painful, story and well worth the read.



I repeat, you are not manly.





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5.13.2010

Oh noez! Down go the flightless, Antarctic birds...

The only thing that makes Penguins sadder than global warming is losing in the second round of the playoffs.



Alas, and alack, my beloved Penguins lost last night 5-2, to the Montreal Canadiens (Les Habitants), thus losing the series 4 games to 3. It is the first time in 3 years the Pens aren't advancing to the Cup Finals. And I am a very mopey Shadow today.



Montreal, probably celebrating another stupid Penguins turnover that led to an easy goal.



As much as I want to curse Matt Cooke for taking stupid penalties, or Malkin and Crosby for disappearing, for Leopold, Dupuis, Talbot, Kennedy and Staal for going MIA, Gonchar for his tissue-soft defense, I have to give ultimate praise to the Habs who played their ass off: Gill and Subban, who shut down our scoring line; Cammaleri, who was unstoppable; and Halak, who made great save after great save.

Which, of course, brings me to my greatest criticism. Our flaky goalie, Mark-Andre Fleury. This kid is an enigma, and you never know what you're going to get. Are you getting the Game 5 Fleury who stoned everything in his path? Maybe. However, during this series, you were more apt to see the softest, pansiest goals that just squibbled in because of his lack of concentration; including three more last night. 



Pictured: Wide open Fleury, with a slow-rolling puck that defied physics and got behind him...



 The Vancouver Canucks lamented their shitty goal-tending by posting a Craigslist ad putting Luongo up for sale, I think, with minimal modification, it can be used here:

“Sulking, belligerent and grossly over-rated goaltender who can’t stop a beach ball, seeks new gig... Goalie will play for hair gel and $7.5 million. I will be golfing tomorrow and every day for quite some time. You can still reach me on my hotline: Mark 1-MAF-SUKD.”


Of course, no one accuses Mark of being a bad teammate, or a poison in the locker room, but he was vastly outplayed this series, and, like Tom Barrasso before him, you never know if you'll get brilliance (e.g., enough net-minding to win the Cup), or average, regular season performances. And, in the end, that's just not enough...especially when our best scorers decide that they want to take an entire series off and put too much pressure on MAF to be brilliant.


A young Mark-Andre Fleury prepares for his goalie practice...
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5.12.2010

Poor Canucks (poor Monkey): The Jeremiads

For those disinclined to the greatest playoff spectacle on Earth, the Stanley Cup, read no more. Otherwise, enjoy (?) the lamentations of Vancouver...

_________________

What a friggin' meltdown last night by the Vancouver Canucks, the MonkeyGirl's Second City, and her adopted NHL franchise. To call it a choke job, heartless, soft hockey would be not only too easy, but too kind by half.

And the fans, Jesus, they just cemented their status as the NHL's worst...nouveau riche d'bags with no real attachment to the game, much less the team.


Glad to see that the fans also can't hit a wide-open shot.


The meltdowns are in full-scale apocalypse mode this morning:


My thoughts on that beer and the money given to Luongo, what a waste. But now that the Canucks are done Sami Salo can rest his devastated testicles


i live in vancouver, i still remember we were calling out the hawks in first round playoff. I was think what happen if they beat us again. i guess we just got what we deserve. When our "home" team lost all 3 "home" games. I can't find a damn word to express my feeling.  


I'd like to see you stay until the end of that if it was your team. I couldn't even stay in the bar until the end of the 3rd, I got fed up waiting for my server and went straight up to the till so I could get out before the final horn. No words really to describe this right now. I suppose I should be happy that I can spend my evenings on the beach instead of inside watching TV. In every sense except hockey I'm glad I live in Vancouver. 


Call me a bandwagon or not true fan or whatever but I’m done being kicked in the balls rooting for my hapless teams.


Not his fault….SHG. SH f*^king G. I don’t care who is out there in front of him but handling a breakout like that is his goddamn business. My Luongo jersey is moving to a very deep and dark place for a very long time.


My thoughts on who's the biggest goatfucker tonite:
1: Pavol Demitra. You useless bag of no try antiwin
2: Bieksa before that fat cheap shot fuck injured Edler (although he was pretty good after)
3: Luongo for goal 4 and 5. Way to suck the life out of a comeback. Assmonkey
4: Alain Vigneault for not dressing the 7th defenseman knowing salo was half.


Unlike others who attempt to wish our adversaries well – I hope they suffer devastating injuries that ruin the rest of their short (and poorly paid) careers, develop rare and extremely serious diseases for which there is no cure (or at least have many attempts that continually fall short), and ultimately be given ice cream while in the hospital that gives them food poisoning that leads to surgery removing most of their intestines and leaves them with a colostomy bag for the rest of their lives.


Every single fucking season. This team does not elevate their play in the playoffs. Every season. 3 of those goals should not have been let in by Lu. Lu stops those like he is supposed to, and its 2-1. But I can’t even blame him for this loss. If it wasn’t for him it would be 8-1 by now. Ive said it before, and I’ll say it again. This team does not elevate their play during the playoffs. WHY? Is it only to torment me? Wellfed is the only one who showed up to play hockey today. Fuck our lives. Another year down the drain, because highly paid athletes that are supposed to have learned from last year, cannot wake the fuck up and play like they want it.


Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the years of this, but I’m no longer depressed. What has happened to me!?

Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Always repeat.
 


 Yep, pretty much like this...all series. Here's to next year...





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5.09.2010

Great moments in bandwaggoning....

I can say nothing greater than what Gallagher at the St. Louis Blues blog, St. Louis Game Time, said about bandwagon fans...

It's not often that you can pinpoint the exact moment that a guy leaps off of one bandwagon straight onto the awaiting deck of another bandwagon, but we did it tonight.


And what does he refer to exactly? The bandwagon fans that hop off and on the successive teams' dicks like a ten-cent whore on nickel night. For some reason, the most egregious attractors of bandwagon poseurs are the New York Yankees, the New England Patriots/Dallas Cowboys, and, of course, the Detroit Red Wings.

Alas, all good rides on the bandwagon come to an end. So, what happens when said Red Wings get knocked out of the playoffs by the long-underachieving San Jose Sharks?

Fortunately, it's so very very easy to hop the train mid-track when you have no emotional investment in the outcome.

To that end, voila.


 One of these things is not like the others. Vive el Bandwagon!







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Sunday loves the NHL playoffs


I've confessed this love before (see tags re: growing a beard), but, since I've abandoned cable to streaming-only, I've been able to watch more games. And, it has been glorious. 
In that vein, here are the Fratellis with "Chelsea Dagger", you probably know this better as the Chicago Blackhawks goal song. However, I much prefer, this early in the day, to watch hotties in burlesque finery than Jonathon Toews sweat.



Okay, you win...Here is siren-like 'Hawks horn.
BTW: Roberto Luongo still hears this in his nightmares.
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1.30.2010

Posters on the wall...

NB: This post is best viewed while listening to this....

 


Let's see, I've given you memories of school lunches, and shred musicians,  and even my childhood fantasies (here and here); so I think it's time to talk about posters. Like most kids, growing up I had a lot, a helluva' lot of posters on the wall. I'm not sure what got me thinking about these, but I'll show you mine if you show me yours:


 
Remember this? Those with a musical memory extending before 1992, knows that these guys at one point did not suck. I said it yesterday, and I'll say it again: I miss Cliff.




 

Pretty much the sweetest thing that Nintendo ever put out back in the day: certainly on par with Metroid, Kid Icarus and Zelda.





 
 Mock Lita Ford you want to...That is a sweet guitar; and she is an awesome musician. Besides, my love of big hair is well-documented at this point.





 
Old school Christina Applegate. This was my favorite one ever. And count the win here: eagle, big hair, tight leather, sideboob, snakes, torn jeans, JFL. I loved this, and it fueled my adolescent mind at all hours of the day. Come to think of it, I love it even more in retrospect!




 
 
Probably my favorite album for about 3 years...Sigh, too bad the Cavalera brothers split apart. In their defense, Soulfly is pretty sweet though.




 

The first time I heard this album, with stereo fully cranked, it was terrifying. Sheer absolute death metal, and one of the heaviest albums, start to finish, ever.





 
But THIS, this was my favorite band. Kinda heavy, kinda' goofy, comic books and Stephen King out yang, and proudest bearers of the the "thrash" label...between the billion posters, equally numerous t-shirts and all the CDs and concert releases, I kept these guys afloat in the Alabama demographic. But this was my favorite Anthrax album and poster.





 
I loved the Batman; still do. No superpowers, just superhuman grudge-holding; that's something we can all get behind. And, Frank Miller was, and remains, my god.



 
So, there you have it; these are the big ones I remember best. The 80s and 90s really did rock the hell out of the aughts, that's for damned sure. Excuse me now, while I go crank up "I am the law" and make my neighbors happy with me.





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1.12.2010

80s Childhood Fantasies: Part One

Even as a child, I had a healthy dose of adrenaline-driven heterosexuality. Fortunately, I was a pure child of the '80s, and, as everyone knows, the 80s had some of the best big-haired, blue-eyeshadowed, permed chicks, ever; sporting their overalls and red plaids, and bouffant pants with Swatch watches. Ahhh, warms my dark little heart.



I am pleased to report that, although my vision has weakened, I am not yet blinded...


But, where was a young lad to get his fix? I lived deep in the Appalachian Mountains, and, even when moving to Alabama, those first few years were largely spent in the boonies atop Lookout Mountain. Accordingly, there just weren't a lot of women around, particularly those that could provide the visual stimulation I needed. Like so many things in life, thank the gods for television...No matter what, the electric glow of sex was just one after school special away...

This is one of those things that's too horrifying to not share, so without further ado, I give you the 80s girls that got me through those formative years.


Nicole Eggert: Charles in Charge



You could tell she was going to be hot from the git-go...

Sweet Summer Powell, one of the few blondes on this list, was one of the very few 80s television icons to just scream "three drinks, and I'll have a threesome". As a result, she always ranked very high in my mental dossier. Eggert, for those living in a cage, went on to take off a lot of her clothes about a decade later in Baywatch. For my money, I never understood what the hell she was doing with those dorks on Charles in Charge....


...and she damn sure was a hottie. 
Some decidedly NSFW pics are out there too, which only affirms what I maintained when I was 12: Three Drinks.
 


Linda Carter: Wonder Woman


By far the prettiest of the 80s luminaries...

Linda Carter was, is, and shall always be Wonder Woman. I don't mean that as in "she's associated with the character".  I mean that until the day that I day, I will believe in an Amazon, with an invisible jet, a kick-ass mind control lasso, and one stunningly beautiful brunette in a gold-red vinyl bathing suit. The 80s may have given us a lot of horseshit, but they also gave us Linda Carter roping guys close to her, talking tough, with her breasts defying gravity and the FCC censors...

 

Damn. Just damn.
 

 
Catherine Bach, Dukes of Hazzard


Jorts have never been this sexy...

If Wonder Woman was my dark dominatrix, and Summer was hoped-for college fling, then Daisy Duke was what I wanted my neighbors to look like. It required almost nothing for Catherine Bach to hoist her breasts up into a tied off flannel shirt and put on the least concealing denim shorts known to man. Interestingly enough, although I lived a scant 15 miles from North Georgia, no one I knew dressed this way...although, life would have been a damn-sight better if they had...



You gotta' think that she never got a ticket...ever.



Up next, Part Two, in which I shamelessly reveal those closer to my own age...



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12.17.2009

Admit it, Canada, y'all are rednecks too...


Our friends in Manitoba have their 'Necks....





The special Eastern Canadian subtype known as the Newfie...





The scary-ass, methheads & roughnecks in Alberta (with Bonus Mullet!!!...





The lovely hick ladies of the Canadian Midwest (a/k/a Saskatchewan)...





The Yukon's version of Piggly Wiggly...




 
 The French-speaking cretins in Quebec...





The larval 'Necks of Ontario...




The shitkickers and douchewads in New Brunswick (with Bonus Mullet!!!)....




The gestational mouth-breathers of British Columbia (with double-bonus Baby Mullet!!!)...



So, see Canada...you're a lot more like us than you admit it: You've got roughly the same educational attainment, the same degree of heavily-armed wood-dwelling recluses, a shit-load of mullets, trashy women, toothless miscreants and country cookin'. This works out well for both of us.

When we come to annex your oil, gas, timber and Megan Fox, we'll fit right in and get along in one big happy redneck family....The way we always should have been.




Just like Tommy & Pam...only hotter...and with a bigger dick


 

10.01.2009

Wednesday Punks-With-Passion: Dropkick Murphys



Wow. Dropkick Murphys did some growing up...marriage and commitment and responsibilities to those that you love and to whom you owe ubberima fidelis...I can't say as I disapprove. There's a point when boys become men, and that means handling your business...but growing up does not mean growing old.*





*This post brought to you by: ogling hotties, sitting in bathrobes and playing video games, eagerly awaiting Disney releases, and playing with your child's toys

5.15.2009

Gasp! A Hockey post?!

Sure, Game 7 was anti-climactic, but I don't know if I could handle another OT game.

I loooooove Hockey. I grew up in the South in the 80s and 90s, where hockey was a damned near unknown quantity. But, I fell in love with Mario Lemieux and the late 80's Pens,and have remained a Pens fan since (even the historically bad teams of 4-6 years ago!). Since that time, I have adored the speed of the game, the athleticism, the toughness, and the sheer aesthetic beauty of the sport. So, imagine my surprise, when I stumbled across this excellent vault article from SI detailing the many, clever ways in which folks have cheated and skirted the rule.

Now, carry on kids, and enjoy the three month war of attrition that is the Stanley Cup playoffs. Let's go Pens.

You know what, this would look nice held up over center ice at the Igloo.