girthy

latest signs from The Fall...

2011-04-10T12:24:00.003-04:00

long time, people. don't spit up your coffee/beverage of choice:

who doesn't love Arizona, microcosm and flashpoint of Empire? well, us--but, still, welcome to your new Brady backyard:
“It’s easier to have fake grass,” Mr. Hague said, looking over his deep green, perfectly trimmed yard. “You don’t have to worry about it. It doesn’t fade.”

FOMO is fuckin' funny--especially when you have FOGO:
My problem is emblematic of the digital era. It’s known as FOMO, or "fear of missing out," and refers to the blend of anxiety, inadequacy and irritation that can flare up while skimming social media like Facebook, Twitter, Foursquare and Instagram.

the angel of meat

2010-04-29T10:25:00.003-04:00

we need to start saving up for some fine-ass art. or maybe we can strike it rich and be a wealthy patron.

either way--"paintings about children, god, and USDA grade A beef"--this brilliant fellow must surely be a Girthy reader:

and goes well with steak.

she walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs

2010-04-12T12:34:00.002-04:00

metaphorically speaking, these are like excellent analogies.

as discuss!

look da fuck out, lilly--it's a muthafuckin' flyin' BIDEMIC!

2010-03-25T11:05:00.005-04:00

life is a mystery.

every one must stand alone.

i hear you call my name...

and it is to watch this movie:

fave quotage:

Evan Husney, who now works for the independent distributor Severin Films, was also at Sundance in 2009, where he spotted Mr. Nguyen driving a beat-up sport utility vehicle decorated with a prop eagle and fake blood, and blaring bird noises from its stereo.

“On the side of his car,” Mr. Husney said, “he had spelled the name of his own movie wrong. He had spelled it ‘Bidemic,’ without the R.”

breaking the fourth wall with facebook

2010-03-05T12:26:00.002-05:00

'nuff said...

whiskeyfire is still fucking brilliant

2010-03-05T12:10:00.004-05:00

give the governor 'harrumph':

If you can't get Antonin Fucking Scalia to agree with you about how you're an oppressed Catholic in modern America, give it the fuck up, would be my advice.

such good stuff.

dred scott's got nothin' on me, muthafuckaz

2010-03-05T11:57:00.002-05:00

it's the times like these that make you stop and sadly admit that you've wasted your life by not doing... things like this:

depressing.

spring fever with the 'so-called regulars'

2010-03-04T12:42:00.005-05:00

in the footer lieth the brilliance:

The Mets sent only three so-called regular players to face the Braves, including first baseman Daniel Murphy, catcher Rod Barajas and center fielder Angel Pagan, and lost, 9-5, while committing four errors.

Eddie Kunz gave up four runs in a third of an inning, so his earned run average is 108.00.

do the other backup catchers get insulted by this sort of thing?

the final word: tough sheet, losers

2010-02-27T12:16:00.006-05:00

and... it's ovah.

the winner of the golden medal goes to SWEDENLAND! silver (or first loser) to CANADIA! and copper to CHINA. enjoy your penguin job, suissers.

now, as is our editorial privilege here at girthy, we bring you a direct cut/paste from the first (and apparently only) comment of our winning contestant, from yesterday's thread:

I felt the time was right to make my one and only appearance on this blog as I graciously accept my team's gold medal win. Please know, I appreciated your efforts during these Olympic games--alas, you all fell beneath the mighty Swedish hammer.

Sweden has contributed much to the world: ABBA, meatballs, Ace of Base, those yummy gummy fish. You might not be aware of this, but they are also the inventors of dynamite...or as I like to call her, Anette Norberg.

I salute you, worthy competitors, and await your virtual obeisance.

Betala bitches!
The Hammer

yeah.

so, on that immaculate grace note, see you fuckers in ~~four years (when we also begin DEATH POOL coverage of women's biathlon)~~ JUNE--for MUTHAFUCKIN' WORLD CUP FOOTBALLIN' ACTION FROM APARTHEID-LAND!

be girthy...

semifinally MEDAL ROUND OF DOOM (day 10 - 11 open thread)

2010-02-25T15:09:00.004-05:00

and it looks like it's Canadia vs. Swedenland for the GOLD (and silver)!

discuss the impending SOUTHSIDE vs. ELEANOR battle here... as well as the cutthroat bronze medal game between the DUKE vs. the 159...

get yo' medals on (day 9 open thread--off day)

2010-02-24T11:08:00.004-05:00

here in the blue-black gloaming of the limbo between round robin and medal round, let's take a brief moment to discuss...

also, here's the medal round schedule/teams.

20 Eleanor plays the Duke
and
Southside Jimmy goes up against KC!

watch 'em live online, if it's not shown on the teevee (as both semifinals are simultaneously at the same time)!

i hate the fucking olympics (day 8 open thread)

2010-02-23T11:14:00.006-05:00

but at least i found out towards the end of the round robin round that you can watch embattled former US skip debbie mccormackrhymeswithsucksdick live--on your computer, over the interwebs. just go down to the LIVE! video shit on the right rail.

of course, being cursed with the worst US women's curling team ever has at least allowed me the excruciating joy of watching them on live TV as they flounder on the sheet, a beached, bleating seal, letting their competitors slowly bite huge chunks out of them--before their competitors spit out said chunks, because they taste like fat fucking loser.

yeah.

however, for those of you not cursed with having the US team, i guess it could be cool to watch every other match--LIVE. here's the link.

discuss...

a good bye (day 7 open thread)

2010-02-22T11:53:00.003-05:00

embattled US skip debbie mccormackpottinger gets a blessed day of respite, before finishing the round robin round later this week. more waffling and bad draw weight to come!

also, here's hoping she can heal up from all of colleen murphy's bite marks.

discuss...

fuck canadia (day 6 thread)

2010-02-21T12:57:00.002-05:00

as we begin the annexation of the 51st state that's not puerto rico or mexico, ta neige, canuckian women's curling team, fait des l'armes au soleil.

discuss (in your language of choice)...

fuck the scotch (day 5 open thread)

2010-02-20T11:01:00.002-05:00

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
va.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
VA.

EVA! fresh from pulling a Rasputin on ice, US skip debbie mccormack sent us here at girthy a celebratory screed... and wethinks it's for you, darlin':

no wo-man, EVA, is an Iland, intire of herselfe; every wo-man
is a peece of the North American Continent, Remember the Maine!;
if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe (this is you)
is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as
well as if a Manor of thy friends or of thine
owne were; any wo-mans death diminishes me,
because I am involved in Mankinde;
And therefore never send to know for whom
the hammer tolls; It tolls for thee.

MEDITATION XVII
Devotions upon Emergent Curling Occasions
Debbie McCormick

if you read it really, really (hard) fast, it sounds just like this.

which means, despite your precocious skills with the big hammer, your 19 years of scottish class and humor, and your cute little nose--you are about to be mccormack-ed. rhymes, with...

nyet with all that glasnost shit (day 4 open thread)

2010-02-19T11:24:00.004-05:00

so, things are going pretty much as expected. if you haven't been watching, here's a recap of the US team from our first 3 matches.

debbie mccormack would be, in this scenario, the stewardess, i believe.

on the plus side--hey, we're not the men's team! though, of course, men's curling isn't a real sport, anyway.

and on the other plus side--there are no giant sharks in fucking russia! fuck you, russia! they're all frozen, or hunted to extinction for their caviar.

on the somewhat negative side, there's a 50/50 chance some fucking Inuit throws a harpoon midway through brave US skip debbie mccormack's upper thorax before End 8. you'll know it's gonna happen if you start hearing seal calls.

let's bang denmark, baby (day 3 open thread)

2010-02-18T12:35:00.004-05:00

as of 12:35 ET, it's looking something like:

1: Sweden: 3 - 0
2: Canada: 2 - 0
2: Germany: 2 - 0
4: Russia: 1 - 1
4: GB: 1 - 1
4: Japan: 1 - 1
4: China: 1 - 1
8: US: 0 - 2
8: Denmark: 0 - 2
10: Suisse: 0 - 3

DID YOU KNOW: the danish team features this year's version of the Johnson Sisters? they're also 0 - 3 right now--and on a deadly collision course to smack face first into beefy-armed bitchy clique queen debbie mccormack, and her heathers-like team of catty stoners. look, out Danish Johnson Sisters; because just like an out-of-control luger, DEBBIE MCCORMACK'S UNI-CHIN AND WELL-BRUSHED LOCKS WILL STOP YOU LIKE A BRICK POLE!

and that's cold, bitches, cold... because on the ice no one can hear you scream.

on second thought, fuck the entire axis (day 2 thread)

2010-02-17T10:50:00.003-05:00

here's the open comments thread for day 2 of the THE DEATH POOL.

we here at girthy also pre-celebrate the expected US firebombing of the german she-curling team, much like dresden mixed with a bit of shock & awe--albeit on ice. stay tuned as bitchy-looking US skip debbie mcormack bravely pilots our hopes and dreams straight down the muthafuckin' rhine, before dropping a stone into an unprotected 3-meter exhaust port in the side of the Berlin Wall.

god bless afuckingmerica!

discuss...

japan fucking sucks (day 1 thread)

2010-02-16T17:03:00.003-05:00

here's the day 1 open thread to comment on...

"fuck the japanese!"

"who said that?"

"harry s. truman, 1945!"

EDITED: "girthy, 2010, following the popping of US skip debbie mcormack's colossal shit balloon."

sssssssssssssssss. slow-like.

discuss...

let's (almost) get it started (uh-huh)

2010-02-15T10:42:00.004-05:00

o hai! been awhile. thank god for dead presidents.

The Official 2010 She-Curling Death* Pool

Winner: 120 "Stones"
Loser: 60 "Stones"
3rd Place: 20 "Stones"
20 Stones per Team Entry

TEAMS--UPDATED WITH PARTICIPANTS:

Canada -- Jimmy
China -- Duke of Pools
Denmark -- Mike Nelson
Great Britain -- Andy Debes
Germany -- 1211 Minerva
Japan -- 159 Malts
Russia -- Vig
Switzerland -- KC
Sweden -- Liz
USA -- Joe (arrgh)

STANDINGS >>

TV Schedule:
QUALIFYING (ROUND ROBIN)
2/16 5:00pm – 8:00pm ET CNBC (24/771)
2/17 12:00pm – 3:00pm ET USA (38/738)
2/18 2:30am – 5:00am ET CNBC (24/771)
2/18 3:00am – 6:00am ET MSNBC (23/723)
2/18 5:00pm – 8:00pm ET CNBC (24/771)
2/19 12:00pm – 3:00pm ET USA (38/738)
2/19 10:00pm – 1:00am ET CNBC (24/771)
2/20 5:00pm – 8:00pm ET CNBC (24/771)
2/21 12:00pm – 3:00pm ET MSNBC (23/723)
2/21 10:00pm – 1:00am ET CNBC (24/771)
2/22 3:00am – 5:30am ET MSNBC (23/723)
2/22 5:00pm – 8:00pm ET CNBC (24/771)
2/23 12:00pm – 3:00pm ET USA (38/738)
2/23 10:00pm – 1:00am ET MSNBC (23/723)
2/24 3:00am – 5:30am ET MSNBC (23/723)

POTENTIAL TIEBREAKER ROUND:
2/24 5:00pm – 8:00pm ET MSNBC (23/723)

MEDAL ROUND:
Semis:
2/25 12:00pm – 3:00pm ET USA (38/738)

Bronze: Winner receives 20 Stones)
2/26 12:00pm – 3:00pm ET USA (38/738)

Gold: (Winner receives 120 Stones | Loser receives 60 Stones)
2/26 6:00pm – 9:00pm ET CNBC (24/771)

* ALL stones will IMMEDIATELY be awarded to the first team to kill an opponent during a match; this team will be declared the WINNER. Means of death can include any (though stoning is obviously preferred). In the event the death is that of a team member or spectator, this prize will not be awarded in full; however, in this case the 20-Stone 3rd Place Award will instead be vacated, and awarded to the killing team.

all hail, the one-shot

2010-02-15T10:38:00.001-05:00

“My ‘first draft’ is IT,” Mr. Francis revealed in his autobiography, noting that he never rewrote. “I’ve tried once or twice, but I haven’t the mental stamina and I feel all the time that although what I’m attempting may be different, it won’t be better and may very well be worse, because my heart isn’t in it.”

...from the obit of one dick francis.

we heartily agree. fuck you, alternate takes!

GOD BLESS AMERICA

2009-05-14T10:51:00.003-04:00

some things are worth posting about...

a modern day amazing grace and chuck this is not. though both had the three-finger boy scout salute going on...

this week's best blog post fucking ever

2008-12-12T12:03:00.003-05:00

as a follow-up to the Big Doo post below, virtual hat's off to the always epic Posting n' Toasting, with this virtuoso performance/tour de force/ass-kick of an analysis:

Luol Deng may or may not be a dementor.

so true. also, as always, all hail clyde, and bemoan the sad loss of his online dictionary.

i hate these fucking people

2008-12-12T11:44:00.004-05:00

“It’s literally like running next to a cheetah,” Chambers [sic]aid.

yeah. we get that shit a lot, too.

alternate title for this post: honey, i love you so much that i called the fucking nytimes.

we hope someone calls the nytimes for our next birthday present. yes, we want someone to pay Bon Iver to watch Old School and drink Guinness with us.

the garbage barge that is chris duhon

2008-12-09T10:08:00.004-05:00

so, here's an email we just sent over to the fine fellows at Blog A Bull, a hilarious hoops blog (in the vein of the king of them all, The WizzNutzz)... who had warned everyone last year when they threw a virtual "Someone Signed Chris Duhon Party!" much like how NYC residents cheered when some poor rural area down South decides that their open territory is more valuable as landfill.

it's a profile of FRIGGIN' CHRIS DUHON by Howard Beck that you get the feeling was written like 3 weeks ago. it's also a case study in how statistics lie, and how a writer can sometimes goes into a story with a pre-conceived notion... which apparently leads him to imply that duhon is having a better season than rose, and is better than anyone you have ever had at PG in the last 3 years.

yeah. go read it.

for instance, duhon's getting 8 assists/game... because the knicks have 2 healthy guards, and because duhon dribbles for 18 seconds per possession on average! yes, the knicks have a high-octane offense... that gives up the 2nd most ppg in the friggin' league! their transition defense is a chinese fire drill.

and yeah, Big Doo's getting a career-high PPG in a career-high minutes... shooting 41pct from the friggin' field! and i'd say he does that "pull-up 3 from the top of the key with 16 seconds left on the shot clock with no one guarding him" thing at least 3 times a game; they usually hit the side of the rim.

like you guys promised... HE IS EVERYTHING YOU SAID HE COULD BE.

but i guess since he's apparently not about to "go to his car/get his second gun/come back and shoot everybody" kind of nuts (like recent knicks backcourt choices), he's gotta be the second coming of clyde, at least to one Howard B(l)ech.

anyway, great blog and stuff. and no, i'm not a knicks fan. jesus.

we'll update this later after derrick rose shits on him.

holy whiskeyfire ftmfw

2008-10-23T14:40:00.003-04:00

go read the best blog post ever. now.

we're adding this dude to our officially supported sidebar links. welcome to the hallmark of true distinction, monsieur/madame fire (also, great backstory). you're a made blog, now.

and that's for the mother fucking win.

i am sooooo caught up in life

2008-10-23T11:43:00.002-04:00

weirdest trash talk ever... with a backup on the bench (albeit it was Big Shot Eddy—check out Lucky bringin' the karma foul back to his kid about 21 secs in). i think this will be the year stephon marbury Alien head-bites an opponent, and then flings poo on the court. i look forward to that in hi-def.

from the times...

Marbury celebrated his first start with some solid play and a vicious verbal duel with House while House was sitting on the bench. It lasted several minutes and several possessions.

After Marbury drew a foul on Kendrick Perkins and hit two free throws, he turned and screamed at House, from midcourt: “You’re a bum!”

When play returned to the Celtics’ side of the court, House chirped, “Don’t worry about me. You better worry about Ray Allen,” whom Marbury was guarding. Marbury shot back, “You’re nothing!” then added, “You’re caught up in basketball. Get caught up in life.”

natural selection

2008-09-28T10:16:00.007-04:00

don't worry. you, too, can raise a holier-than-thou child... literally. just make sure he's (NOTE: must be a He, like jesus was, cuz girls are the devil, silly!) been officially run through the catholic dog and pony show, with documentation, mind you.

hey, welcome to Chaminade.

School Motto: We are better than you.
School Fight Song: Onward Christian Soldiers, or #509 in the CBP
Students Pledge: To be more tolerant of other white people.
Famous Sponsors/Alumni: D'Amato, Suozzi, O'Reilly
Cost of Sponsor-/Alumni-Purchased Sports and Activities Complex: $20 million dollars
Cost of Your Soul: Fucking priceless!

on a serious note, ban Chaminade from competing against or interacting with any public school in this country. and certainly—obviously—here in a secular country, Chaminade should not be getting a fucking dime from the feds, directly, indirectly, infrastructurely—whatsofuckingever. right?

go peddle your crazy xenophobic bullshit somewhere else.

GTFO white boy, this shit ain't williams

2008-09-28T10:03:00.004-04:00

just to clarify, in case you missed it: tommy amaker is still a huge piece of shit.

eight is not even fucking close to enough

2008-09-26T11:05:00.013-04:00

i swear to fucking god this is real. i swear to fucking god this was in today's nytimes.

now, really, go read this in all its full glory, written from the nadir of the modern female sportswriter: think, vogue with a twist of mommy blogger.

but let me just cut, paste and, er, annotate the rules.

well, i have to at least start with the lede. it's fucking epic:

Few audibles are called in the Warner household. Keeping seven children on the same page requires a no-frills playbook.

sports journalist and pioneer Karen Crouse with some more of that hard-hitting language that makes her so tough, showing off all the football terms she's learned since the season began. sez here that Karen is not only proud of the fact that she's a mommy in a man's world, but has in the past seen a head doctor because hard-hitting readers occasionally sent her some hard-hitting feedback, saying things like "go write for the fucking gossip pages, mommy" as well as a certain timeless catchphrase that we're especially fond of here at girthy, and which, like everything, just sounds better in scottish.

now, back to the rules:

“Eight Rules for Being a Warner Daughter or Son.”

apparently the rule that periods should only end actual sentences when used in headlines or bullets is not one endorsed by the warner household. faith > grammar.

1. Everyone has to agree on which strangers’ meal to pay for when dining at a restaurant.

ZOMG, me too! it makes me feel so much better about myself. also, firenze sucks, but that's only because i sill have a grudge from when we used to race.

2. At dinner, share the favorite part of your day.

now, were i das warnerspawn, i'd prolly recount how i just made that homeless guy in the back booth grovel before letting me baptise and "faith heal" him in the bathroom, on account of me just promising to pay for his meal, as part of rule 1. plus, bonus points for saving a soul, too! demons out!

being a warner is fucking awesome.

3. Hold hands and pray before every meal.

make sure you've washed. homeless guy cooties > faith.

4. After ordering at a restaurant, be able to tell Mom the server’s eye color.

because not only do both superman AND jesus think it's ok to give the freaky bugeye to people, if He really loved you, you wouldn't be colorblind. or "starring" on fucking youtube in ripley's believe it or not. sinner.

5. Throw away your trash at the movie theater and stack plates for the server at restaurants.

i wonder if they have rules for some of life's other complex challenges, like "don't piss in your pants again, use the bathroom" or "don't automatically tell the gay people we see holding hands or making out that they are going to burn in hell, because they might just be siblings." see below.

6. Spend one hour at an art museum when on the road.

no more. no less. also, no feeding the warners after midnight and none of that hateful poop art.

7. Hold hands with a sibling for 10 minutes if you can’t get along.

what if you're just praying? does that shit stack?

8. If you can’t get along holding hands, sit cheek to cheek. (If you can’t get along cheek to cheek, then it’s lips to lips!)

as long as it's not gay, or incestuous, or both. cuz in 2008, now, that's just not ok. also, ohio is fucking awesome. (EDDY: was that song not evil when it originally debuted... back in 1995 or whenever? is ohio like soviet russia? do they still listen to 80s music? i mean, we do, but look at us.)

on a side note, KURT, IF YOU'RE STILL READING... should, during some future serendipitous visit to the local chain steakhouse, we ever see das warnerspawn approaching our carcass-strewn and empty-jello-plated, all-you-can-eat-salad-barred table, their holier than thou, cash-filled grubby digits outstretched, we will gladly accept your money.

and we will spend it on porn, booze, drugs, whores and that much-anticipated matt leinart sex tape, featuring a horse, the USC cheerleding team and a midget wearing a mini-me mask.

by the way, i just wasted two hours of my life that i could have spent being productive. so fuck you, kurt warner, and your crazy christian balls. harrumph.

brenda would have fucking pwned saddam's face

2008-08-31T19:19:00.002-04:00

say it for me, jason, and say it LOUD:

And by God “Beverly Hills 90210” was the perfect escape from the bombing of Baghdad.

just... wow.

tremendous upside: who the fuck is bambi... and how dat bitch taste?

2008-08-25T11:13:00.003-04:00

it's hubie's phrase, really, it is. but hubie belongs to us all. and so should willie, who i remember reading about like... 4 years ago? 5? time flies when you're having* fun**.

“He’s got tremendous upside, but a lot of guys have tremendous upside,” Brandt said in a telephone interview. “A lot of them just never reach the top of it.”
...
Beyond football, Glenville State has been a cultural awakening for Williams. As he talks about playing horseshoes and eating venison, he smiles and flashes his eight gold-capped teeth.
“All I could think of was Bambi,” Williams said of eating venison. “But when I finally tasted it, it wasn’t that bad.”
Because Glenville’s lone McDonald’s closes at 11 on most nights, Williams has also started cooking on a George Foreman grill.
“I be feeling like George Foreman sometimes because I have that Foreman grill on fire,” he said. “You can throw throw anything on there.”
That includes French fries and family packs of steak that Williams cooks for teammates.
“We eat like real vikings,” he said.

enjoy the ephemera. and viva la willie, ad infinitum--you'll always be havin' wingspan unbelievable with us at girthy, brother.

ok, now that that shit's over...

2008-08-25T10:14:00.002-04:00

what happened? looks like we're around 210 b.c. these days, peeps, and girthy's missed the summer. too busy not watching the farce in the far east.

we just wear their t-shizz.

on the plus side of freedom: we did sit out the national anthem at the actually-in-reality-next-to-but-originally-billed-and-sold-(falsely)-as-the-LA$T-PLAY-@-$HEA... and then stood after it ended and out-cheered everyone else right after.

of course, our cheers were, "GO TORTURE!" and "TORTURE RULES! GO USA! GO TORTURE!" girthy got us some funny looks--but, people, these were fucking billy joel fans. like we used to be.

then we stood up again, later on... and left as soon as billy gave us this vital cue: "...and on guitar... jon mayer."

your bacon is always a wonderland.

olympicotting... let's get it started (ah-ha)

2008-04-30T12:55:00.004-04:00

been thinking about this one for a while. in lieu of the farce that the torch ceremony has become--a real microcosm of this entire chinese olympic joke--we at Girthy are boycotting this year's summer olympics.

much more to come, with links, rationale, and impassioned/batshit diatribes, but this o-cott will include:

not watching the sham coverage that is slated to air live in EST, so the athletes can tee it up at 11pm china-time, or whatever
not buying the products of the shitass corpo-whore sponsors
not listening to my collection of jon tesh discs, tapes and vinyls

on the plus side, there's no women's curling--we couldn't 'cott that shit.

oh, it's so awn...

2008-04-07T10:09:00.003-04:00

been a while, but we get caught in the gears of the machine more than most. hey--we're batshit, after all. speaking of which, look at what motivates us out of hibernation: The Top 10 Reasons to Cover the Women’s Final Four
by Harvey Araton of the Times.

'nuff said. that's motivating enough to start tearing up teh interwebz, all over again.

p.s. no, it's not because he misses the days of peach-bucket bingo and no dribbling, jumping, or overtly athletic movements. and if you think there's any of that, legitimately, in the women's game, then--no offense--you're just a fucking idiot.

p.p.s. happy birthday, bitches!

hi? ate? U.S.?

2008-03-17T11:06:00.002-04:00

too disgusted with the state of the state to blog too much... new blood soon. enjoy your wars, bailouts and shams.

rome redux: the spatial difference allows me plenty of time to react

2008-02-12T11:32:00.000-05:00

it's the coffee/cocktail conundrum we all wrestle with (consciously or not) around the 11:30 mark each morning. just buckle, and stop all the denial.

so many great quotes in here, it's UNmazing. on a side note, we fell over after standing on our heads--not even our hands--in 47 seconds, roughly. on another side note, we wish the beautiful poetic soul of this language could seep just a little into some scant american cultural edifice this year, the better the Empire shine for it, however briefly:
“This isn’t the stuff of home runs, it’s about effectively harnessing the power from below to make contact with a strongly pitched ball and not be beaten by its strength.”
also, fuck the Cubs. we've hated you since you were in the NL East, and we attended Shea games in our youth--while people cheerily hung Cub-jerseyed teddy bears in effigy in the stands. yeah, we know you historically suck. and yeah, we know you now play in a wildcarded world, and not even in our division. but as you should know here at girthy, our hatred is never fleeting.
how to fix illegal immigration, once and for all--no jobs for anyone! and no carrots for you, silly humans.
you, uh, feel that stingin' in your chest, citizens? that's pride, fuckin' wicha. well, fuck pride. then, fuck it some more.
stock up on lollipops--lollipops for all! and ~~keep on keeping them bitches outta the dugouts~~!
hail not just the repubs, citizens. enjoy your spying.
for the record, stan van gundy is the East's version of PJ. just a douchebag. and for fuck's sake, who did redick bang that you're not playing him over the shlubbs you're starting?
somebody better go find the Empire a Hitler, and soon. uh, a new one, please.

wiibow hurts like hell

2008-02-11T17:05:00.000-05:00

after 3 mos. of shopping by multiple girthy-ites, we got us a wii.

now, all of us are in pain. and not blogging as much as we should, for our audience of 3.

on the plus side, our wii bowling averages are much, much better than they were when we were repeatedly losing at $5 a game at 4-1 odds to the kid down the street.

alll ur interwebs r belongz to me... forever

2008-02-11T10:13:00.000-05:00

and you wonder why we at girthy are so into pen names...

unshocking reason no. 4,356,891 why the Empire is fading

2008-02-10T11:37:00.000-05:00

ah, america. once so authentic, and revolutionary. now, revolting.

While critics of bringing children to bars are vocal, some parents have embraced the habit with gusto. In recent years, mothers in Manhattan and in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, gathered for Wednesday afternoon cocktail mixers called Tots and Tonic. One former attendee, Christen Clifford, a writer and actress who now lives in Jackson Heights, Queens, proudly recalled breast-feeding her son, Felix, at the bar before ordering a martini.

the solution, of course, is easy and easily applied: make bars be bars again. go there, and curse, spit, gamble, swear, fight, and smoke--or at least smell like smoke. hell, go outside, take a drag--relish it--come back, and blow that sweet secondhand cancer it in Felix's nipple-sucking, lactate-covered face.

when supermom starts screaming at you, gracelessly splashing her $12 martini in angry narcissistic froth, slowly turn to her, and tell her what she needs to be told: go wash your fucking hands and get me a cheese sandwich. though, admittedly, that's The Icepick's line.

then, calmly direct your attention back to the bartender and order "one of whatever this fucking baby is having."

pulp cruciFiction, or seppuku is for pussies

2008-02-10T11:27:00.000-05:00

bushido--it's not just for samurai any more. for instance, check out budding lord, savior and sword-slicing badass muthafucka, Jesus Christ-san. no, really.

much on the girthy table today... we'll post when we can.

rome redux: saturday edition

2008-02-09T12:25:00.001-05:00

today's notes and news from around our fading empire:

file under: "I Went To Paraguay And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt (and Waterboarding Internship)." no word as of yet if they've asked the Peace Corps kids to work for other agencies in addition to spying on Cubans and Venezuelans for the State Dept... i'm hoping a certain red-haired cousin comes home from South America with not just the newfound skill to construct palapa roofs and small aqueducts made of leftover plastic bags, but also an internship in torture (mothafucka) torture.
fuck all you Catholics, more. not only did you fuck up the last 9 prezzes, you're in line to fuck up the 10th, too. well, actually, you got Gore right--maybe someone should break the news to Brother Nino before he does it again.
Roger Clemens' performance-enhanced trophy wife now has a name. it's Debbie. it's taken me two days of reading news articles before seeing that in a lede 'graf. welcome to the world of people with names and identities, Debbie Clemens. you fucking cheater.
pausing our blogging to try performance-UNhancing drugs...
my life is more important than yours. i hope Bobo the Chihuahua bites this guy's lawyerly dick off, and pisses all over his 4 year old son. no, not really. well, ok, kinda. HEY. FUCKFACE. you don't like legal smoke, move to a fucking country where it's not legal to do whatever you want within the sacred graces of your home, like make international telephone calls and use email, browse the Web, order liquor online, and now... smoke cigarettes. oh, wait. my bad. btw, if you saw that chick on the street--what do you think her voice sounds like? just a guess.
a dog once bit my face... off. it hurt less than the movie. also, this dude's got a phat collage header on his site.

i am superman, and i sell SUVs

2008-02-09T01:30:00.001-05:00

enjoy R.E.M.'s cover of The Clique's 1969 "I Am Superman" on the Life's Rich Pageant album?

then you'll just LOVE the cover of it now running background to the new toyota sequoia ads.

fucking R.E.M. song from the album that had "Cuyahoga" and "Fall Into Me"... now being used to sell a Japanese SUV named after a California redwood tree. fuck me end of the fucking world.

really cool ball thing in the commercial, though.

roger clemens' wife is a cheating whore

2008-02-09T00:18:00.000-05:00

just saw this tidbit on the ticker, that bottom troller/feeder/scroller that can change lives in just the seconds it takes for some production jock to key in the text in a studio. in this case, here's what it so deftly said:

"Brian McNamee testified before Congress that he injected Roger Clemens' wife with HGH in 2003 with Clemens' permission before a SI cover shoot."

which of course, means only one thing: Roger Clemens' wife is a no-good, cheating fraud. a phony. a fake. a pure canard. a prevarication. a lie. here, let's use the SI link, too.

see, she's basically flat-out ruined everything it's ever meant to be an athlete's trophy wife in an SI swimsuit issue, and we're just fucking appalled. plus, she looks like she snapped that fucking bat over her leg in the next sequential. fuck you Bo Jackson, you big pussy--Roger Clemens' nameless wife could crush your fucking skull with her abs!

in protest, we're also re-canceling the SI subscription we originally let slide back in the early 90s, right before we stopped reading The Sporting News and right after we had a 4-month infatuation with ESPN: The Magazine before we realized what absolutely fatuous corporate bullshit it was. seriously, this is more depressing to us than our former subscription to Writer's Digest was--you have no idea how easy it is to write a short story or stealthily cloaked feel-good Jesus novel with a fucking dragon. /roar.

but we digress. that wife of Roger Clemens bitch is a cheater. no way she gets in the Hall of Fame now.

hide the white women

2008-02-08T23:54:00.000-05:00

so, we just got the call. "world domination," he says. "i'm serious about this shit."

"let's link."

oh, The Icepick cometh.

so, soon as we evolve our voice here and get us some uber sexy-like content, it's gonna be all "do you mind if we we dance wif yo dates?" on all teh webs.

and, yes, as much as we enjoyed our marital band during our sweet sixteen-like americanized nuptial orgy--wtf didn't we hire those dudes? i mean... Otis, my man.

viva la tortura del agua, the MMVIII version...

2008-02-08T15:59:00.000-05:00

those of you unfortunately on the longtime girthy news list know of our sincere, fond and long-term interest in torture (muthafucka) torture as an artistic outlet to express our patriotism--going back to the days of Freedom Shirts, our unholy American bathroom shrine, etc.

but did you also know the practice of waterboarding goes back to the spanish inquisition--well before Half Moore took it in GI Jane from Aragorn?

here's a nice archive to catch you up. more independent thought soon to follow...

inaugurally girthy

2008-02-08T14:29:00.000-05:00

briefly, some girthy rules:

caps are optional, and generally frowned upon. we usually cap proper nouns and real names. but not always.
headers are all lowercase.
teh internetz speak is allowed within context.
The Girth runs the show and is final arbiter of all things girthy.
if it's not girthy, then it's OT... gtfo.
we strongly encourage posts that are tl;dr.