I H-A-T-E the J-E-T-S

Stubbing my toe sucks. It really fucking hurts. I have big feet and I’m clumsy, so I’m prone to a weekly toe stub and I hate it.

Not as much as I hate “Meter Maids,” though. I hope any asshole who signs up for that job gets diagnosed with multiple malignant tumors on Christmas Eve. Every time I get an unjust parking ticket my blood pressure raises by about 30 points and then I get sad because I know I’m too lazy and disorganized to ever protest them in court. You won this time, parking enforcement officer. And you’ll win next time too.

But I’d rather get a parking ticket every day in February than have to ever watch the New England Patriots win another Super Bowl. They’ve dominated the AFC East for a decade now and I can’t fracking stand it. On Saturdays, before I go to bed, I pray that Tom Brady will tear his Achilles on tomorrow’s opening drive. Wes Welker is a traitorous bastard, and I root for him to develop an addiction to pain killers. I refuse to call their obnoxious, hoodie-wearing curmudgeon of a coach anything other than Bill Bellicheat. When Teddy Bruschi almost died a few years ago, I naturally assumed that the team had bartered with Satan, their souls for a few rings, and I thought finally the bill had come in the mail.

Yeah, I hate the Patriots.

But I don’t root for them to lose every football game. Twice each year I disregard every ounce of common sense in my noggin and root for the Patriots to win. To humiliate, even.

You see, while I utterly loathe the Patriots and their smug, bandwagoning fans, the vitriol I reserve for them pales in comparison to that reserved for the New York Jets.

J-E-T-S, Jets. The most hated noun in my entire vocabulary.

The worst team in any sport, by far. The most obnoxiously obtuse fans ever conceived in dirty test tubes.

I don’t just root for them to lose every weekend, I root for ground beneath the stadium to crack and for the Earth to swallow them whole.

But not before that fat slob Rex Ryan chokes on one of his semen filled Twinkies on the sidelines. Not before the Department of Homeland Security sends Mark Sanchez back to South America for throwing six interceptions in a half. And certainly not before the 110th Airborne carpet bombs the ever-loving shit of of “Revis Island.”

Only after all that am I truly comfortable with their team bus to drive off a cliff and crash and burn in the depths of that special Hell for child rapists and people who listen to loud music on the bus.

You’ve never hated anything in your life as much as I hate the New York Jets.

If God made an appearance in my bedroom and said, “Hey brah, you have two options for next season. The Dolphins can go 14-2 next season and get swept by the Jets, or they can go 2-14 next season with their only wins coming against the Jets,” well, I’d pick door number two every time. Seriously.

Sweeping them last year felt unbelievably good. Like getting fellated by a unicorn on a bed made of cotton candy. I barely cared that, through the luckiest series of scheduling breaks ever, they went to the AFC Championship game and the Dolphins didn’t even make the playoffs. I’m not kidding. Beating the Jets in 2008 – the final game of the season, to advance to the playoffs, and to potentially end Zombie Favre’s career – was absolutely epic. Glorious, in fact.

So I’m sorry, you’re not going to get too many well considered “keys to victory” this week. I am too consumed by the fires of my hatred.

I can tell you this, though. I’ll be watching that game Sunday night. And hopefully some sniveling, excuse making, sad sack Jets fans will be around too. I love watching them backtrack after a game; it’ll be interesting to see what kind of excuses they come up with.

Let me leave you with these conclusions for tomorrow evening:

1. Jake Long dominates Jason Taylor the entire game, causing him to reconsider a career in dancing.
2. Chad Henne throws for two first-half touchdowns on Antonio Cromartie and the rest of their overrated secondary.
3. Ronnie Browns run the ball straight up the Jets’ asses, right through the hole that Kris Jenkins used to fill.
4. Rex Ryan eats an entire pepperoni pizza at halftime.
5. Miami continues to dominate in the second half.
6. The announcers reference that fucking Monday Night Football game with the 4th quarter comeback.
7. Vontae Davis grabs two second half interceptions.
8. Miami wins, 32 - 9.
9. The Jets fans blame the injuries and absences and still try and make a case for being the better team.
10. I sleep like a fucking baby.

The Morning After: Dolphins 14, Vikings 10

Holy crap was that a great game -- hard fought from start to finish.

Miami's first play from scrimmage was nice. A 46 yard toss down-field from Chad Henne to Brandon Marshall. A few nice runs later, and the Dolphins faced 1st-and-Goal. Minnesota's D held strong for a few plays but, on 3rd Down, Henne finally punched one right into the hands of Brian Hartline.

That first drive looked so good, I never would have suspected Miami's offense would be shut out for the rest of the game.

So, the Dolphins took an early lead (as I suspected they might) and spent rest of the game daring Brett Favre to do his worst. He literally did.

The Vikings sustained several lengthy drives but Miami's defense kicked into overdrive each time they were pinned back in their own Red Zone.

The Dolphin defense was outstanding really. They forced four turnovers and allowed Minnesota to score only once. And even that touchdown was ¡Qué mala suerte! as it only happened because Ricky Williams fumbled on his own goal-line.

It was a classic "bend but don't break" defensive effort.

In the second quarter, Zombie Favre threw a nice pass to Percy Harvin at the one yard-line. It should have been a completion and probably should have tied the game at seven. But Harvin bobbled it, thank the Gods, and Vontae Davis secured the Dolphin defense's first interception of the season. (There would be more.)

V.D. made a great play but, three feet from their own goal-line, Miami's offense wasn't in the clear. In hostile territory and against a tenacious Viking front line, Ronnie Brown took the hand-off in his own end zone and exploded through a gap in the line of scrimmage. What might have been a safety was instead a 51 yard gain thanks to Brown's quickness and the offensive line's power.

Franchise LT Jake Long manhandled Jared Allen the entire game; the rest of the big fellas on Miami's o-line gave one heck of an effort too.

They really deserve props for beating down one of the best defensive fronts in front of their own crowd. I don't even remember a false start penalty called against them which is surprising considering the hostility of the Metrodome. Henne had plenty of time in the pocket (though he was sacked twice) and the line opened up some big holes for Dolphin rushers early.

It was a bi-polar day for Miami's rushing attack, dominant early on but pathetic in the second half. The first fumble, by Williams, was easily converted into a touchdown by Adrian Peterson. Brown fumbled with only a few minutes left to play and it nearly cost the Dolphins the game. (Lousaka Polite was unstoppable, of course, but what's new?)

When Minnesota recovered that second fumble, I really thought the game was over. As a Dolphin fan, I'm so used to melt downs in the 4th Quarter (see the Indianapolis and New Orleans games in 2010 and the Houston and first NYJ game in 2009), It seemed a foregone conclusion that our Defense would buckle after that momentum killing turnover.

Boy was it good to be wrong! I was instead treated to an absolutely delightful goal-line stand. It was 1st-and-Goal from the four yard-line. The Vikings had four chances to score the game winning touchdown from just a few yards out but couldn't seem to convert. Everyone knew Peterson was going to run it in on 4th-and-Goal but the world found out what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable Karlos Dansby, who crushed Peterson at the point of impact and forced a turnover on downs ("number twenty-one" assisted on the tackle). Yeah, Dansby looks to be worth every dollar.

Miami's entire defense looks stellar so far this season. I don't know whether to credit the new schemes of Mike Nolan or the new personnel of Jeff Ireland but this group of guys is playing a different (and better) style of ball than they have in past years. Maybe Coach Sparano is a better, skinnier motivator these days. The defense is physical as Hell -- the front line beat the crap out of the Favre, Peterson, and the Vikings big men -- but they seem quicker too.

The secondary dropped some sure-fire interceptions against Buffalo in Week One but they must have bought some new gloves. Second-year CB Davis is playing at a Pro Bowl level and Jason Allen has magically morphed into an ass-kicking ball-hawk. (Yes, that Jason Allen.)

Sean Smith even looked good in his limited appearances yesterday. That got me thinking (uh-oh), what if Smith didn't regress during training camp? What if Allen has just stepped up his game that much under Mike Nolan's tutelage? It's almost impossible to fathom after what we've seen from him in the past but Allen's performance yesterday cannot be denied. He picked off Hall of Famer Brett Favre three time (one was called back by an unrelated penalty) and was, by a wide margin, the game's most valuable player. After all these years of struggling, it's great to see Allen finding his groove.

The whole defense is refreshing, really. It's such a nice change of pace to count the linebacking corps as an asset for instead of a detriment. Cameron Wake continues his inprobable, but now inevitable, rise to stardom; he was fierce all afternoon, most notably when he stripped Favre in the end zone (Koa Misi recovered for the Dolphins first defensive TD in awhile).

Vikings' stud RB Peterson rushed for 145 yards and made some spectacular plays but he's a top two back in the league and won't ever be shut down entirely. He got his stats but the Dolphin defense stopped him in the crucial situations.

Special teams was solid; Brandon Fields was back to his old form.

I'm less enthusiastic about how Miami's offense performed, but they have faced some pretty stiff competition this season (and it doesn't look to get easier against the Jets this Sunday night).

Certainly the fumbles have to stop. It's a miracle the Vikings didn't capitalize on both of them, but you can bet the next team will.

The play-calling was, again, solid in the first half and lackluster in the second. I know everyone was terrified to run the ball and fumble again late in that fourth quarter, but it was difficult to watch the Dolphins try to unsuccessfully run out the clock out on those last few drives. Zombie Favre looked like shit, thankfully, so we could dodge a few more of those bullets than usual.

Henne was efficient (9/14, 114 yards, TD) and that was enough. It wasn't his fault the coaches never felt the need to take off his leash.

The Dolphins are undefeated and sit alone atop the AFC East but we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. They have a murderer's row of a schedule; their next three opponents (Jets, Patriots, @Packers) all made the playoffs in 2009.

Game Ball: Jason Allen. 7 tackles, 4 assists, and two INTs.
Honorable mention: Adrian Peterson, Jake Long, Vontae Davis.

Game Goat: Brett Favre. 22/36, 325 yards, 3 INTs, 1 fumble lost.
Honorable mention: Ricky Williams, Percy Harvin.

Quote of the Game: “Number twenty-one (Vontae Davis), I felt like, was one of the best corners in this league, especially that no one knows about. Number 32 (Jason Allen) is more physical and kind of a safety-type guy. I thought a back-shoulder throw against him with Bernard (Berrian) would be a right play. But just in general, twenty-one I was less apt to challenge.” ~ Brett "Zombie" Favre

Keys to Victory: Week Two, @ Minnesota

I'm absolutely psyched for Miami at Minnesota!

One reason is that it's actually going to be on TV. We can thank Zombie Favre and his loyal minions for that one. My liver, stomach, and wallet are greatly relieved to watch tomorrow morning's game from my home and not from a nearby sports bar. (To be quite honest, I still haven't found a good watering hole in Koreatown that has NFL Sunday Ticket -- feel free to point a couple out.)

Secondly, I stand to win a few bucks. Two of my co-workers at the bar are from Minnesota, and each of them bet me a crisp Jackson that their Vikings would win. Did I bet the spread? Hell no. Real fans bet on their teams to win, right? Right?

Yeah, I could lose $40 but I'm feeling pretty confident (HUBRIS ALERT), which brings us to what excites me the most...

The Dolphins have a great chance to win. It's not a foregone conclusion by any stretch of the imagination, but I genuinely like their chances.

These are their keys to success:

1) Run the ball. Run it early, run it often, run it well.
The Vikes are ferocious up front. If Chad "Check Down" Henne is going to have any breathing room in the pocket, the Fish really need to establish their running game. They need to alternate between power and speed, in my estimation. They have enough versatility in the backfield to do that. They need to keep the Vikings defense guessing, and only then will it open up the play-action for Henne and the receivers.

Ricky and Ronnie need to combine for about 150 yards tomorrow.

2)Zombie Favre must die!!!
Favre is a pompous dick, but he's a smart pompous dick. Giving him too much time on his feet in the pocket is a recipe for, well, something un-tasty. If the Dolphin D can't get to him, Favre will meticulously pick apart the secondary. He may not have a full stable of receivers but the man knows how to find the seams.

Thus, Favre needs to get knocked on his ass a few times early. I'm talking about all sorts of blitzing plays, of course, but also about continual penetration from our front three. Look for fill-in Tony McDaniel to pick up a sack or two. Likewise, we need the LBs to step up big once again.

3) O.C. Dan Henning can't be a pussy.
I'm confident the Dolphins can build a lead against the Vikings tomorrow, but I'm less than 100% convinced they can hold it for four quarters.

If we're up by 10 at half-time, and we come back from the break playing too conservatively, Favre will come back and beat us. Yes, he's a shell of a man, but he can facilitate point scoring in a hurry. If we get a lead, punt five times in the second half, and end up losing, I'm going to mail a turd sandwich to Henning, I swear to fucking God.

Alright, enough talking out of my ass. Go 'Phins!

The Morning After: Dolphins 15, Bills 10

It's the morning after, and I'm here to give you a sober and fairly objective look at the Miami Dolphins' 2010 debut performance.

This defensive battle brought us laughs, tears, and little bit of heartburn.

(My Mom always taught me to start with the bad news, so let's begin there.)

NO ES BUENO:
1. The Dolphins lack killer instincts. This is nothing new. For as long as I can remember, Miami has never been able to put other teams away. They won't blow out inferior opponents, they will (usually) just squeak by. This may not matter much against Trent Edwards -- who would have trouble scoring with a pocket full of pesos in a Mexican whorehouse -- but this accounts for several loses each year.

Remember the Indianapolis and New Orleans games last season? Remember how the Dolphins could have and should have beat each of those soon-to-be Super Bowl contestants? The problem was the Dolphins didn't know how to put them away. Sure, both of those offenses were phenomenal but Miami should have never let them back into the game.

The Dolphins have been unable to capitalize on momentum and good breaks for as long as I can remember being a fan. For over a decade they've absolutely anti-clutch when playing with the lead. In the dreadful Wannstedt era, the Dolphins would run up the middle on 1st and 2nd Down, run a five yard hitch on 3rd and 8, and punt the ball away. That insufferable style of play cost them victories every season.

These days they mix in some screens passes so it seems less predictably safe on paper but it's really just the same old ultra-conservative approach.

It's a bit clichéd but a team has to play to win. They can't bury their heads in the sand for the entire second half and merely hope to not lose.

Which brings us to my to my next concern....

2. The coaching staff makes worrisome Game Day decisions. I have no problem with the way the team is coached from Monday to Saturday. When they take the field, the players are focused and prepared. The staff does a great job in between games.

The problems come on Sunday. Atrocious clock management, an inability to make necessary package and personnel adjustments when defending against 3rd Downs, and absolutely horrific play-calling by the O.C. Dan Henning.

Can't we add one more assistant to the sidelines whose sole job is give clock management advise in the last few minutes of each half? Every game, Tony Sparano makes a clock gaffe; it's embarrassing.

3. Now in his third year, Chad "Check Down" Henne fails to impress. To be fair, he didn't have a bad game. He was mostly consistent; he didn't commit any turnovers. He did enough to win the game on the road in Week One. That really shouldn't be ignored.

But this is Henne's third season and he still hasn't given me any reason to scream "franchise quarterback!" from the rooftops. And that sucks.

More than that, we really need to figure this all out. Maybe he's our guy, maybe he's just a guy. It's not his fault if he's the latter but we would certainly have to adjust our strategy. If the last ten years have taught this team and its fans anything it's that stopgap quarterbacks will not allow a team to elevate above mediocrity.

The Dolphins need a franchise quarterback and we desperately need to figure out if Henne is that man before the season's end. That means we need to start asking him to do more than manage the game efficiently. We need him to make plays, take chances, test his skills, and succeed (or even falter) under pressure.

Sometimes checking down to a running back in the flat is the smart play. But not usually on third and long, and not this many times each game. Every time he risks nothing we learn nothing about his mettle or his physical abilities.

THINGS I LIKED:
1. It's a Dolphin win. They won their season opener in a hostile stadium against a divisional opponent. Maybe all of those previously mentioned negatives are a one time affair?

2. The defense looks superb. Sure, the cast of Jersey Shore could probably hold Trent Edwards to 150 passing yards, but we can't take anything away from the way Mike Nolan's defense dominated yesterday's game.

Linebacker play was great. How long has it been since we could say that? Miami's biggest free agent acquisition this off-season was Karlos Dansby; with 8 tackles and a sack, he was the opposite of disappointing. Rookie stand-in Koa Misi and second year fan-favorite Cameron Wake has sacks of their own as well. Again, it's too early to know for certain, but maybe our middle four won't be a sore spot this season? A boy can hope.

The secondary looked solid as well. Chris Clemons, for one, had five tackles (and a great time smashing faces). The unit doesn't earn a gold star, though, because they dropped several interception opportunities. That just won't cut it against a more resilient team.

The defense didn't force a single turnover, in fact, but at least...

3. The offense never gave up the ball. I'll take a zero turnover game every time I can get it on the road.

CONCLUSIONS:
Really, there are more questions than answers at this point in the season.

- Brandon Marshall had a solid debut, but will Henne and the O.C. allow him to become an impact player?
- Is Jared Odrick worthy of that first round pick? His name was only mentioned once, as far as I can remember, before his injury.
- What's up with the inconsistent kicking? Dan Carpenter missed a field goal and one kickoff went out of bounds; Brandon Fields had a game saving punt near the end but his early kicks were terrible.
- Will our "new" defense force enough turnovers?
- Can Jason Allen keep up the good work?

But, a win is a win and the Dolphins are exactly where they need to be after Week One. 1-0, tied for the lead in the AFC East, undefeated.

Six Idiotically Bold Predictions for the Upcoming NFL Season

We're only hours away from another exciting NFL season. Can you feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins?

(What's that you say, there was a game last night? Nonsense, the NFL would never schedule a game on a Thursday. Don't be silly. And don't ever start Percy Harvin on your fantasy team. One catch for 12 yards. Geez.)

A new NFL season also means a new litany of idiotically bold predictions. So let's get that nonsense out of the way before we dive into discussing the Week One particulars, shall we?

IBP #1: Tom Brady stays healthy all year and the New England Patriots don't win the AFC East. It'll be a coin toss between the J-E-T-S and the Miami Dolphins, may the fattest coach prevail!

IBP #2: The Minnesota Vikings don't make it to the post-season. And with that, Zombie Favre is finally vanquished once and for all.

IBP #3: The Kansas City Chiefs win the AFC West, thanks to SS Eric Berry (a.k.a. your 2010 Rookie-of-the-Year) who will draw more than a few Ed Reed comparisons.

IBP #4: Tony Romo and the mighty Dallas Cowmen actually find a bit of playoff success before getting destroyed in the NFC title match.

IBP #5: The Houston Texans make the playoffs for the first time in franchise history. Okay, that isn't bold. What if I told you the Schaub-Johnson Express takes them all the way to the AFC Championship game before derailing? Is that bold enough for you?

IBP #6: Aaron Rodgers throws four touchdowns passes against the Tennessee Titans in Super Bowl XLV. The Packers win and Rodgers is the SB MVP. Chris Johnson doesn't lose sleep, though, because he earns an MVP trophy of his own (e.g. the regular season one).

Strange Things Are Afoot at the Circle-K

RUKUS Magazine's September issue has gone live.

This month I get real heavy with Iron Maiden's The Final Frontier. It's a little bit old school and a little bit Progressive.

Readall the gory details:

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(We can't very well mention Iron Maiden without linking this clip from Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, can we?)

Boulder's On Fire, Better Throw Her in the Water

Just a micro-update today...

The Bad News: Boulder, CO is on fire. I hope all my old friends and colleagues are safe. I especially hope the flames don't spread to the campus and, more specifically, to the University of Colorado's office of debt collections. If all records of my outstanding student loans were burned to ashes, I just don't know what I'd do.

The Good News: The Colorado Buffaloes (1-0) are on fire too! Well, if one dominating performance against lowly CSU counts. Maybe this season won't feel quite as long as last year's.

More soon!

And now some titular Brian Eno!

Everbody Relax, I'm Here

The new stickers for my license plate came in the mail today!

TLF graciously loaned me her Scion six nights a week to drive to work but the arrangement was far from ideal for each of us. For a variety of reasons (e.g. I live in the sprawl capital of the U.S.), I am so very relieved that my hoopdie is once again fit for public consumption.

In other news, The U destroyed FAMU 45-0 last night. I know this is tantamount to a scrimmage game for the ‘Canes, but Jacory Harris looks may have a beastly fall campaign. I can hardly wait to watch them exact revenge upon OSU (a.k.a. the Cheating Cheaters of Cheatville) next Saturday. The Buckeyes are my least favorite college football team that doesn’t rhyme with “mortar shame.”

I should be more pumped up for CU/CSU tomorrow morning, but I just can’t get that excited about the Buffs until they fire Dan Hawkins. Out of a cannon, preferably.

I don't even think the game will be nationally televised. ::sadface::

And the Miami Dolphins, what's up with this lackluster looking squad? Is it time to panic? Not just yet. Say it with me, "the preseason does not matter."

Week 1 at Ralph Wilson Stadium will matter, however. And this season's success is dependent entirely upon Chad Henne's growth at quarterback. He has a solid running corp, a stud left tackle, last year’s most prolific wide receiver, and absolutely no excuses. If he can’t make the leap now, I'd wager he never will.

At the moment I’m cautiously optimistic. We can revisit my mood again after next weekend.

Setting down the pigskin, I haven’t written nearly enough these past few days. I missed a deadline for an album review and couldn’t in good conscience devote much time to my personal projects before making good on my external commitment. I finally sent out the review this morning, though, and I expect to spend most of tomorrow working tinkering with the current script. After I get my hairs cut.

While we’re on the subject of things long overdue, I just put a placeholder up at travisreilly.com. I haven’t decided whether or not to link that site to this one but stay tuned.

So kiddies, when some wild-eyed eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that:

"Fuck ‘em up, fuck ‘em up, go CU!”

Bureaucracy: Frustrating to Deal With, Hard to Spell

Back in December of Aught-Nine, when I was only two months into this West Coast experiment, I was pulled over by the LAPD while cruising around town with my friend Wam.

This is an accurate transcript of the events that followed, at least as best as I can recall them:

CHiPs: Do you know why I pulled you over, punk?
Me: No, Sir. I was driving safely and at a reasonable speed.
CHiPs: Don't back-sass me. What you were doing is driving while talking into your fancy-schmanz portable phone box.
Me: Oh? I'm sorry officer; I didn't realize I was breaking any laws. I know ignorance is not a valid defense but I just moved to California and I still have an out-of-state license, that's why I don't know all of the traffic laws. Otherwise I never would have accepted a collect call from my Grandmother in the hospital. Please have mercy on my soul.
CHiPs: Warnings are for women and retards. Here's a ticket. Suck it up like the man you'll never be.

Just like that, I became indentured to the state of California. At least when you owe Tony Soprano money, he gives you the option of breaking some legs to shave points off your debt.

Yes, I broke the law and I should have paid my $50 ticket. I knew that at the time; it's not like I considered fighting it in court. Sometimes you just get sidetracked by life. I put the ticket in with some other bills and tickets, not fully understanding the qualitative difference between parking tickets and moving violations. When I finally paid those parking tickets off and I could type in my DL number and no infractions came up, I thought I was in the free and clear.

Nope. Apparently moving violations are paid from a completely separate website.

I was looking into finally getting a California driver license yesterday and that's when I found out I was trekking through Feces Canyon without shoes. You can probably guess that the ticket was never paid and interest accrued. A lot of interest. I let an earlier parking ticket get out of control before paying it and it went from $45 to $135 -- so if this moving violation was also going to triple, I would have to scrounge up $150 buckaroos to switch over my license.

I typed my driver's license number into the new website, it gave me the old citation number to type in the next field. That's when the waiter served me a warm bowl of steaming dogshit and forgot to bring the napkins.

I owed $875 dollars. On a $50 cell phone ticket. What the motherfucking fuckity fuck?!?!??

Worse yet, I was docked for a failure to appear in court and my CA driving record was in a "hold" status. I don't know what that means exactly, especially since I was still using my (seemingly?) valid CO license, but it reminded me of having a financial stop on my university account preventing me of registering for classes until I paid the bill.

There was a big difference, however; the University of Colorado never sought to arrest me for a failure to pay. I suspect that, in the past four or five months, had I been pulled over by the police for any reason at all, I would have been arrested for driving with a suspended license and/or failure to appear in court.

That would have sucked a great big uncircumcised monkey cock.

I found all this out last night right before I was about to drive for work. The reason I was looking into all this is because I was trying to fix my registration. I (hopefully) took care of re-registering the vehicle in Florida but I don't anticipate the stickers arriving for a few days. I was fully prepared to get pulled over with expired tags, show the officers the receipts and such and hope they let me be on my way or, at the very worst, receive a fix-it ticket that I could easily take care of once the registration paperwork was processed.

Suddenly I was faced with driving to work with expired tags, a suspended license, and a possible bench warrant. That changed everything, of course. I've been known to do some dumb shit, but I wasn't going to drive into West Hollywood with expired tags at night hoping one of the 28,313 on-duty cops in the area wasn't going to notice me and haul me into the Big House.

This mental math was done at about 9:40 p.m. My shift starts at 10:00. Since buses take all fucking night to get anywhere, my only real options were begging for a ride or take a cab. I don't have any friends so I called a cabbie.

The dude was quick, actually. No one at work noticed my slight tardiness. But that was $35 ($10 for a quick-ride tip) I'll never get back.

This also left me stranded at work but, mercifully, one of my coworkers was sweet enough to hang around the bar for an extra hour after she got cut to drive my car-less ass home.

My girlfriend was pissed off at me for a whole assortment of reasons. The chief one I can empathize with is this: I've been borrowing her car 5 times a week for the past month. There's a good chance that, if I would have been pulled over, I would have not only been thrown in the slammer but her car may have been impounded. She trusted me with her car and now she thinks perhaps she shouldn't have.

I don't think that's what pissed her off the most, though. She's mad because it's yet another entry in the "Immature and Unreliable BF" database. I'm sure that's disappointing for her and I hate that but sometimes I wish she'd be a little more supportive of me in my failures.

When she fucks up, I feel like I'm unconditionally supportive. "You drove home drunk and ran over an Oriental family? Don't worry boo, they were probably asking for it anyway. I'll help you hide the bodies." Whereas when I fuck up sometimes I feel like she piles on.

I fuck up thrice as often as her. And I'm probably succumbing to some psychological fallacy here wherein I think I'm always magnanimous, regardless of the truth. I might be way off here, but that is how I feel.

When I talked to her this morning, however, she sounded more optimistic. That helped.

Today's plan was to call the collection agency that was now handling my ticket and try and negotiate a settlement. That didn't go over so well.

The lady flat out told me that no one in her office was authorized to settle. She said I must pay the amount in full but that she was allowed to structure different payment plans. I asked her if she was authorized to allow me to pay one dollar every ten years. She did not laugh.

Her manager told me the same thing. "But I don't have $825!" I told him. He suggested I reschedule a court appointment. He transferred me to a clerk that was supposed to help me out.

Now I'm rescheduled to appear in court. If I ever live that long. The next available court date was April 4, 2010. Fuck L.A. Just fuck it.

God know how I'll remember to attend court next April, but at least that is taken care of for now. But what about my license? Is it still suspended? Is there a warrant out for my arrest? The clerk gave me a new number to call. The lady who answered that number was actually nice and surprisingly helpful. (I forgot to ask for her name or else I would include it here.)

She directed me to the Superior Court on Hill Street. I could walk-in, pay $10.00 and all the holds/warrants will be erased and that I wouldn't be hassled about payment until the court date next April.

So I took her advice. Being unable to drive a car, I took the metro. I had to transfer once but it actually did a good job of transporting me to where I needed to go (rarely is that the case with Los Angeles public transportation).

I passed through the metal detectors and entered the court house at around noon. I was peckish, and thirsty, but I decided to take care of all that later. Fuck Maslow, he don't know my hierarchy.

The line snaked around the entire building. Every single person there was miserable. Much like any bank or the Ralph's near the lady friend's house, there were a ton of different cashier windows where employees could help these wayward citizens but only a few of them were actually open for business.

I was in line for about two hours before making my way to one of the surly cashiers. The transaction itself was quite easy. I paid $10 to "buy an abstract" -- I'm not at all sure what that means -- and the holds/warrants will supposedly be taken off my record by the end of the business day.

We will see.

It wasn't the most terrible experience in the world but it sure was mildly soul-crushing. I felt like an extra from one of those working-class rage movies (Dog Day Afternoon, Falling Down).

I'll keep you posted on what happens next but the lesson here today is stay on top of your shit, kiddies. Only 20% of problems go away on their own. The rest will grow exponentially and eat your fucking brain.

Greg Camarillo Out, ASUS 1005HA Netbook In

Happy Thursday, kind readers.

What's that you say? The text reads differently today? As if the whole entry were typed out on a micro-keyboard designed for Oompa-Loompa hands? How creepily perceptive of you!

Today’s blog post is brought to you by way of my new ASUS “Netbook"; for $239 Tigerdirect was kind enough to send me this infantile little thing so that I could start blogging from The Coffee Bean like all these other SoCal cats.

This was no easy decision; I deliberated for a good twenty minutes on whether to buy a perfectly average laptop for $549 or this pathetically incompetent one for $239 and use the rest of the money in my checking account for, say, groceries. Oh well, 1 gig of RAM and Windows XP is good, right? Right? ::sadface::

Honestly, though, it feels good to make the responsible choice once in awhile. And three hundred dollars is a lot of money to a broke piece of shit like me.

Performance isn’t even that critical of a factor here. It was smart to go with the light and cheap alternative because I really don’t need to be gaming or rendering porn reels or watching Blu-Rays on this computer. I don’t have that kind of time. Until someone offers me 50k a year to suck at Starcraft 2, my (boring) adult needs for this computer are few:

1) Portability. The ASUS is a tad over two pounds, whereas the Gateway weighs as much as I did when I was born. And when we are talking battery life, weaker is generally better. I imagine this ASUS can last a lot longer unplugged.

2) Network connectivity. Is there any difference these days?

3) Low-end software compatibility. MS Office, Firefox/Flock, Final Draft, and foobar2000 are really the really vital ones. These will all work on a slow XP machine. Adobe Photoshop perhaps won’t run too smoothly, but we’ll see.

4) Intuitive keyboard/mouse. Okay, I’m actually worried about this one. These gigantic hands of mine were built for similarly gigantic keyboards. I suspect I’ll be mashing the wrong keys for awhile and my WPM will suffer until I’m acclimated to the new gear. Computers are only getting smaller, though. It probably isn’t a bad idea to start getting with the (tiny) times.

Once the money flows like the salmon of Capistrano you can be sure I’ll consider upgrading but for now I suspect this baby penis of a computer will suffice.

(In case you were wondering, I used much of the remaining checking account money to pay off an outstanding parking ticket from February that started at $50 and ended up costing me $133. Fuck you L.A. meter maids, I will have my revenge!)

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Three unrelated notes:

First, the incredibly wonderful folks at Shompton, LLC. helped me acquire travisreilly.com the other day. As of now, that and mmmtravis.com still redirect to this Blogspot hosted site but I’m working on some legitimate coding to help me move away from amateur hour.

Go to Shompton for all of your hosting, marketing, and design needs – you will not be disappointed.

Second, Greg Camarillo was traded to the Minnesota Vikings yesterday for veteran CB Benny Sapp. Thanks for the memories, Greg, but I wholeheartedly support this move. The Dolphins were looking a bit exposed in the backfield and some veteran leadership will really help. Camarillo had some amazing hands, but we are pretty flush at WR right now.

Third, I can’t wait to see Super, James Gunn’s newest project. SLiTHER was great and I’m expecting more from this effort.

My New Project

The flow is good these days (insert your own tampon joke here (insert your own “insert your own tampon joke here (insert your own “insert your own ‘insert your own -- Arggh! Must. Break. Meta. Loop.))). I’ve been writing as much as time allows.

Sadly, a few obstacles prevent me from maximizing my time spent working typing up a storm but most of those are short-term in nature (I’m looking at you unregistered vehicle, absence of laptop, and Grandma).

A few of the guys I work at the bar with know people who know people who know someone who is theoretically interested in finding screenplays on the cheap. And, well, I’d sell just about anything I own for a fifty dollar Subway gift card.

This has me working hard and fast, though, and that’s good. I’ve been working on a treatment/outline for a new horror flick for the past two weeks or so and I’m just about ready to start pounding it out for real and that's exciting.

It’s high concept with a low characters/locations count and those are two of the three most important ingredients to successfully selling your first screenplay. (The third is “not being a hack” and the jury is still deliberating on that one.)

More to come soon.

Pro Tip #37: Pooping is only a waste of time if you aren’t multitasking. Right up until it's time to wipe you could simultaneously write in your journal, work on a crossword puzzle, rehearse your next sales pitch, or call your Grandma. The possibilities are endless!

All the Leaves are Green, and the Sky is Blue

I’ve lived in California for nearly 10 months now. That’s pretty hard for me to comprehend.

I’ve never eaten un elote or a Dodger Dog, I have no idea how to get to Glendale without my GPS, I still haven’t even swum in the Pacific Ocean. In many ways, I do not feel like a very accomplished Los Angelino.

Yet, here I am.

And my life out here is slowly coming into focus. I’ve developed a bit of a daily routine, for one. I spend a ton of time with The Lady Friend (very good), eat Subway nearly every day for lunch (good), work nights Monday through Saturday (less good), and split the rest of my hours between pooping, sleeping, and writing.

I’m happy (and I’m beginning to notice an increase in my productivity). But I can’t shake this feeling that I’m simply not getting enough out of L.A. There is so much untapped culture, history, and general depravity within a few miles of my house, I feel guilty when my routine doesn't allow me to make better use of my surroundings.

Nevertheless, I love spending time with my keyboard and my girl. Those are two essential parts of my life. And, sadly, I need my job. Or any job, I suppose. I can try cutting sleep and pooping out of my schedule but that doesn’t seem like a long term solution.

What, then, will give?

Maybe I should better combine my passions. For example, taking my girlfriend to a Dodger game and writing about it after. When one activity can accomplish multiple goals one saves a bit of time. Maybe I should get a job at Subway! On second thought, meh.

Maybe I need to concentrate on organization. Buying a laptop will help. Writing in actual notebooks is comfortable and quaint, but a tad antiquated. And I'm never around my desktop computer enough to give my projects the care they require. I must join the tiny computer revolution, I suppose.

Going deeper than that, though, I just waste too much time. I’m constantly unfocused. My processes are muddled.

I need to implement a better system today. I’m making a few more industry contacts each day who are genuinely interested in reading my work which means I need to get some serious writing done. I need to produce some work that it is ready to read. I need to move quickly and finish everything I start.

Again, that's not the only entree on my plate.

As my relationship with TLF gets more serious, it will likely require additional time and attention. And money. My debt isn't just erasing itself. I need to find ways to work harder and more often and to spend less.

On a slightly less important note, the football and (later) basketball seasons are almost here.

Ugh, never enough time in a day.

---

Watch this clip from a wonderful film partially inspired by a California obsession:

My Mother is Not a Fish, Not Even Close

This week’s quote is pulled from the William Faulkner (supposed) classic The Sound and the Fury. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never read it.

---

“A fine dead sound we will swap Benjy's pasture for a fine dead sound.”

---

That vague excerpt from Western literary canon came at you a day late because I’ve been on the move all weekend and have had zero alone time with my keyboard.

Being tied down to my desk is so 20th Century, I know. I’ve resisted the calls for long enough but I am finally looking at purchasing a cheapish laptop. I hate using those cheap and undersized keyboards for typing but I spend more time at my girlfriend’s house than at my own apartment and it’s just too hard to write often enough that way.

At least now I’ll be able to bond with all the other underemployed hacks leeching WiFi and iced tea refills at every coffee shop in Hollywood. Those days of not being taken seriously as a writer are certainly coming to a middle!

Also, as I’m never above a few sentences of shameless self-promotion...

The August issue of RUKUS magazine is online—skim through it and read my review of the new Korn album.

Please?

Everybody Hurts

Miami Dolphins training camp. Day six.

Kory Sheets is the second Dolphin in the past 24 hours and the third player in as many weeks to succumb to a season ending injury. Every team gets banged up, but this is getting a little ridiculous.

Few cared when Phillip Merling destroyed his Achilles tendon – he might as well have been run over by a bus rocking a “karma is a bitch” bumper sticker.

When 4th round acquisition A.J. Edds tore his ACL yesterday, the situation was glummer. Our linebacking corps has been terrible in pass coverage and he was supposed to make it at least a little better.

Today, running back and return specialist Sheets also went down for the count (the Achilles, again). He wasn’t the one player most likely to make or break the Dolphins season but he is a good spirited role player and the injury is shitty news for him and the team.

Every NFL team has its share of injuries during camp but this is a bit ridiculous. We’re six days in and the Dolphins are already three players light on the season. Ugh.

It can’t be as bad as last year, right? Right?

[Send Kory Sheets (@sheets24k) a "Get Well Soon" tweet.]

Photo by Marc Serota/Getty Images North America

There's nothing Dolphin safe about Tuna's practice regiment.

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Other great sources of Miami Dolphins information:

- Ethan Skolnick's "Season Ticket" @ Sun-Sentinel
- Armando Salguero's "Miami Dolphins in Depth" @ The Miami Herald
- Bleacher Report
- Fins Nation
- The Miami Dolphins Spotlight

Context is for Pussies

I woke up on a co-workers couch at about nine this morning, still a little buzzed from the Bud Lights and gin cocktails we drank until dawn.

(Drinking with two of my co-workers last night was a pretty good time. Both are struggling actors from the mid-West with a very genuine enthusiasm for their craft. Their optimism and persistence is rather infectious, actually.)

I came home, took a nap in my bright yellow work shirt, and didn’t’ wake up again until about two this afternoon. After bumming around on the computer for an hour or two, I walked to the Lady Friend’s house to feed her cat and ended up watching Terminator Salvation on HBO. Meh. It was as unmemorable as any movie I’ve seen this summer. (It’s telling that my favorite part was when some characters listened to Alice in Chains for about twelve seconds.)

Now I’m home, bumming around again. I’ll spend the rest of the evening pretending to try and write and probably end up finishing season one of the X-Files instead.

I can’t leave you without first quoting a vague or obscure passage from canonical literature I haven’t read. (Another lazy Sunday, another new tradition.)

This week, we look to the oval-faced Herman Melville for an excerpt from his other famous work, Billy Bud:

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“At the penultimate moment, his words, his only ones, words wholly unobstructed in the utterance were these — ‘God bless Captain Vere!’”

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Yeah, let that marinate in your brain for awhile.

Five Idiotically Bold Predictions for Your 2010 – 2011 Miami Heat

It’s an unfathomably interesting time to be a Miami Heat fan, especially considering how comparatively dreadful they've been these past few seasons. It's been a downward spiral since closing out Dallas in 2006.

Until now, these were the team’s three best moments since that victory parade a few years back:

3) Wade’s double-overtime, three-point buzzer beater when the Heat hosted the Bulls back in March of 2009.

2) "Winning" the second pick in the 2008 NBA Draft, thanks to a league worst 15-67 record.

1) Using that pick to draft Michael Beasley, an undersized power forward who ended up averaging 14.9 points and 5.9 rebounds per game over the course of his two seasons with the Miami Heat.

All but one of them occurred in the off-season and even the lone exception was merely a regular season victory that was ultimately insignificant. It’s been a really long time since the Heat accomplished anything important on the court. (Wade’s spectacular strip, steal, and game-winning running three were phenomenal, though, watch it again and pay close attention to Brad Miller’s precious reaction shot.)

The franchise was hurting in a pretty bad way as recently as only a month ago; thankfully, Heat fans, God has a condo in South Beach.

Unless you’re living under a coconut on a deserted island, you already know that the roster has undergone some unprecedented changes. And if you are living under that coconut, I applaud your wireless network provider for getting you to my website.

You can skip straight down to my bold predictions but first you probably want to read a recap of the Heat's more noteworthy transactions these past few months.

KEY LOSSES:

Michael Beasley is traded to Timberwolves. Look, I liked Beasley. I liked him a lot. And I hated how certain South Florida reporters whose names I won't utter bastardized him at every opportunity.

I certainly hope he develops into an All-Star type talent. Even if he does, I'd still trade him in a heartbeat to secure the Heat's current lineup. Yeah, we could have kept him instead of Miller but clearly that wasn't what Wade and Co. wanted. Oh well, I wish you luck in Minnesota. Too bad new GM David Kahn is already rehashing old dirt.

Jermaine O'Neal (and his three-inch vertical leap) sign with Celtics. Take your money and get the hell out, JO. You were terrible for us when it counted. If memory serves me correctly, you shot about 8% from the field in the playoffs and you never even knocked out any Pistons fans. I hope you make Boston worse (and I gleefully suspect you will).

KEY RETENTIONS:

Dwyane Wade re-signs with Heat. This is still the best news of the off-season for Heat fans. Thankfully, we won’t have to endure another season of Tito’s for back-up.

Dwyane Wade re-signs with Heat. It sounded so nice I had to type it twice. We're all so grateful he came back.

Udonis Haslem re-signs with Heat. He is not as talented as Beasley and I never liked how the past few seasons played out. Haslem got too many undeserved minutes in crunch time and I don’t think the numbers show him to be nearly as clutch as most of his supporters would argue (both in the Playoffs and in fourth quarters). I don’t even like the way he rebounds.

Still, I’m glad the Heat the heat resigned him and I will support him. He is not a bad person; in fact, he had other (possibly more lucrative) offers on the table and he chose to stay as a sixth man right here in the city he loves.

He also adds much to the team. Unlike any of the new additions, Haslem has a ring on his finger. He may not wow the new stars with his moves, but he can show them how to stay poised under pressure. And he really will be a pretty good sixth man.

KEY ADDITIONS:

LeBron James added in a sign-and-trade with Cavaliers. Let’s start with the ugly.

“The Decision” was a mockery of sports in general and the NBA in particular; it forever tarnished the reputations of Michael Wilbon and Jim Gray as news reporters and flatly destroyed ESPN’s hopes of being seen as a source of information rather than a product of consumption; it was an affront to the intelligence of fans everywhere and a dagger in the backs of any hopefully naive Ohioans*. It should have never happened and hopefully the agents, publicists, and better angels of tomorrow’s mega-stars will learn from James’ mistake and never, ever repeat it.

Forget all that though. James signed with Miami, WOO-HOO! Who gives a shit how he got here or why he did it? The Heat just became the most exciting NBA team to watch in my lifetime! And they may even win a few championships in the process...

stolen from The Internet

Is one of these old ladies Delonte West's grandmother?

Chris Bosh added in a sign-and trade with Raptors. I’ll be honest, I haven’t watched Bosh play much outside of the Olympics and the occasional Sports Center highlight. I know he’s good, I don’t know if he’s great. If there is any chance he can become great, however, it'll happen on this team. I’m really curious to see how his game play evolves.

Mike Miller is signed from Wizards. He will shoot 400% from three point range this season. I mean it. He is going to be so wide-open from behind the arc that each he jacks up the ball it’s going to go in four times. I don’t even know what that means but it's true.

All these moves are a few weeks old and the rest of the Heat roster is filling out rather quickly. It'll be interesting watching the point guard situation unfold; will James start at the one or will Erik Spoelstra stick with the likes of Mario Chalmers and Carlos Arroyo? Other than that, all the Heat really need are some warm bodies. And plenty of them will play for the veteran minimum if it means one last shot at a title.

CONCLUSIONS:

The Heat are immensely talented on paper, no one will deny that. But they will be under an unheard of amount of pressure from both critics and scorned fans. I think those off-court distractions will dissolve away with the tip-off of the opening game. And that's why opening day just cannot come quickly enough for Heat players and fans.

Now here are this season's idiotically bold predictions:

(Don't say you weren’t warned.)

#1 - If the "core four" stays healthy, the Miami Heat will win this coming NBA Championship and they will do rather easily. Okay, maybe the first one isn't that much of a stretch.

#2 - If healthy, the Heat will also surpass the Chicago Bulls single season record of 72 wins. I'm thinking 75 wins and only seven (very publicized) losses.

#3 - If healthy, the Miami Heat will sweep the entire post-season. Every series, including the NBA Finals. Yes, I realize no team has ever done that. But this Heat team, if healthy and focused, is absolutely that much more talented than every other squad in the league.

#4 - The Heat will stay focused for every game during the regular season. At least for the first year. LeBron has too much riding on this “decision” to let up for a single game. He and Wade won’t allow his teammates to let up either.

The only big “if” here is the health of the key players.

If that prediction isn’t bold enough for you, here’s one more:

#5 - The Heat can withstand any single injury and still win the 2011 NBA Championship. If either James or Wade goes down with a season ending injury (God forbid), the Miami Heat will still win the NBA Championship.

Here’s the thing, a core of Wade, Bosh, and Miller, or James, Bosh, and Miller can still win it all.

The more favorable of those two really unfavorable scenarios is the one with a healthy Wade. He won it all before and he did it with less help. (Shaq circa 2006 and the rest of that unit was less talented than Bosh, Miller, etc.) The league is better than it was in 2006 but, well, so is Wade.

An injury to Wade would be the most devastating though still not necessarily crippling. I’m convinced that James might finally find that extra gear with Bosh and Miller to back him up. He would lead the Heat, as underdogs, through the playoffs and I suspect he would excel.

And what if someone other than James or Wade were to succumb to injury? No sweat. If Bosh, Miller, or one of the Titos goes down, Wade and James would still be the (fairly heavy) favorites with whatever table scraps they have left to work with.

I realize I’m putting out some really frightful ideas into the Universe; all this premature injury talk is like talking about a perfect game in the top of the sixth inning. I'm going to knock on some wood (for the next five hours straight).

Don’t forget to comment, especially if you’re one of those cry-babies from Cleveland (it’s a second-rate Hellmouth).

Until next time, Heat fans...

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NOTES:

*By the way, Cleveland, you fucking deserved "The Decision." Ohio State stole the 2003 Fiesa Bowl from the Miami Hurricanes. They cheated to win and now the whole region will deservedly suffer. Karma is a motherfucker.

Straight Men Are Gayer Than They Think

Today we’re going to talk about porn and sexuality. This will resonate more with heterosexual males but there’s a lesson here for everyone. I have no intentions of offending my sizable gay following—a bear needs cubs, after all—but I don’t understand you people so you’re going to have to do your own math.*

Porn is a multi-billion dollar industry. And, like any other successful enterprise not founded by Oprah, it is made for heterosexual males by heterosexual males.

While depraved internet coinsurers can find all types of salacious, subversive, and deviant content with a few clicks of the mouse, the vast majority of porno patrons are paying to watch Jack fuck Jill in the missionary position. Porn may be served in over 9,000 flavors but most men are happy with just a scoop of vanilla.

What types of porn do you watch most often? Answer honestly. I won’t pick on your lackluster imagination. If you’re like 79%** of self-professed heterosexual males, then you are watching some variation of “boy penetrates girl (in her vagina).

Here’s the M. Night Shyamalan style twist: Observing heterosexual intercourse is not necessarily a heterosexual action. I’d argue it’s not even that close. Your only interactions are with the DVD player and the hand lotion. If I watch Paul Bunyan cut down trees all afternoon, I’m not going to call my Mom and tell her I spent the day lumberjacking.

I can hear your feeble objections already, “but, but, I’m… identifying with the male in the video!” Sure. Prove it, homo. Maybe you’re relating more to the washed up starlet tickling his pickle and you don’t even know it. In either case, you’re merely a voyeur and not a participant.

Again, watching a heterosexual act does not necessarily equate to engaging in one. Consider that masturbation while fantasizing about women is heterosexual but if another man were to watch a video of you masturbating that would be, in fact, pretty damned gay.

Look, there’s no need to get defensive. I’m not calling you gay; I’m just saying that you could be straighter.



Given enough time and data, one could chart all forms of sexual expression from “absolute queer” to “ultra hetero.” And while fucking a woman is straight, masturbating to the video image of a man fucking a woman is closer to the middle of the spectrum (see graph s01). A precise charting requires complex mathematics, but a fairly simple algebraic equation*** can give us a pretty good estimation of any sexual encounter. We'll refer to resultant as the Hetero Quotient. Where d equals the number of dudes, c equals the number of chicks, and p is the total number of people involved…



Let’s apply that to some real world situations:

1) If Mikey roofies Sally at a bar, takes her home to his Grandma’s bathroom, violates each of her precious orifices, and chokes the life out of her before cutting her into tiny pieces, what is his Hetero Quotient?

For simplicity’s sake, let’s assume that Grandma was out playing bingo so we will assume that Sally is the only chick and Mikey is the only dude (giving us two total participants).

((1/1)+ 1)/2 = 2/2 = 1, or 100 percent.

One-hundred percent straight; way to go Mikey!

A second example:

2) Bob masturbates to Barely Breathing 3, a fine geriatric themed production starring Groucho Dix and Sugar Succulence. How straight is Bob?

There are two dudes, Groucho and Bob, and Sugar is the only chick. There are a total of three participants.

((1/2)+1)/3 = 1.5/3 = 0.5, or 50 percent.

Uh oh, Bob’s actions are only 50% straight.

Let’s try a longer problem (and pay close attention to the details):

3) Shane goes to Tijuana and pays five pesos to watch Victor Victoria bang Maria De Los Burros in a dirty old barn. Victor Victoria is a transvestite. He dresses like a woman, and he has pretty perky boobies too, but he packs heat down south. Shane is turned on but he’s also confused. Exactly how gay is this situation?

The tricky part in this example is whether to count Victor Victoria as a dude or as a chick? Well he/she/it is somewhere in between, I suppose. Not altogether womanly but not exactly a typical man. You can decide on your own value here, but for the sake of simple we’ll pretend Victor is half of each gender. That means we have 1.5 chicks and 1.5 dudes in Shane’s scenario. Let’s figure out his Hetero Quotient.

((1/1.5)+1.5/3 = 2.1667/3 = 0.7222, or 72 percent.

Shane’s actions are actually straighter than Bob’s.

Now we’re approaching the point of the lesson. Pornography comes in many shapes and sizes and one shouldn’t be afraid to experiment because the stuff you’re already looking at is probably gayer than you think.

The numbers don’t lie, folks; keep them in mind the next time you’re scouring the internet to make a deposit into the spank bank. Watching a she-male bone a(nother?) chick can be considerably less queer than that standard male/female fare already beginning to bore you. If you call yourself a straight man maybe it’s time to start acting like one.

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Notes:

*I offer no apologies or disclaimers to the fairer sex—and what would be the point? They won’t read this unless it’s reprinted in US Weekly.

**All statistics are based on a private sampling of the different personalities trapped in my head.

***The “simple equation” is surprisingly accurate but not always sufficient. Anything involving plants, for example, would yield confusing returns.

Lightning Round

Let's get through this as quick as we can, mmmkay?

- I moved to Los Angeles last October (that deserves it's own entry at some point); updates have been non-existent since then and I know you've missed me. Now I'm back to blogging, so you can dry those crying eyes.

- The Nougat is undergoing a large redesign. I'm moving to a more serious hosting solution soon. Feedback, as always, is appreciated.

- There's a ton of South Florida sports news to catch up on. Josh Johnson is having an incredible season! (And, oh yeah, LeBron James, Chris Bosh, and Brandon Marshall have all relocated to South Beach.)

- I'm now contributing at RUCKUS magazine. Get over to their site and check out my review of the new Ozzy Osbourne album.

- There are, as always, lots of films to discuss. I went to a screening of Life During Wartime / Q&A with Todd Solondz last night, I'll expand upon that later.

- My "real life" has taken a turn for the interesting. I'm in the longest relationship of my life (and happy about it) and I work at a bar with a mechanical bull.

- Don't forget to follow me on Twitter (@mmmtravis).

- More as I think of it!

A Boy and His Dog is exceedingly mediocre, but that’s hardly the point

(Allow me to start with a digression.)

A Boy and His Dog (L.Q. Jones, 1975) was described to me, first and foremost, as a cult film. What exactly does that term mean?

In lieu of research, I’ll refer to Wikipedia’s entry (as of July 14, 2010): Cult films have “a highly devoted but specific group of fans” but “fail to achieve fame outside a small fan base.” Meh. Other equally unsatisfying explanations exist here and here.

It may be more helpful to consider what a cult film is not. A cult film is not good. Not really. Not immediately, anyway. At least so far as traditional metrics are concerned (box office receipts, critical appraisal, etc.) Otherwise it would simply be another successful film.

Cult films are disliked or disregarded by most audiences but venerated by a passionate minority, by a few fringe dwellers eager to embrace those bizarre bits of celluloid residing upon the periphery of human experience.

stolen from The Internet

I wish I were reviewing the 1989 NES game A Boy and His Blob: Trouble on Blobolonia instead.

I wasn’t alive in 1975, but I can’t imagine any widespread celebration of A Boy and His Dog’s cinematic achievements. Yet, it does possess an endearing weirdness. By Wikipedia’s standards, at least, it should enjoy cult legitimacy.
Is that any sort of compliment, though? Is A Boy and His Dog a great film? Is it even a good one? Do I recommend watching it?

The answers to these questions are unimportant because, face it, you only rented the movie so you could cross it off your list of unseen cult classics (but, if you must have them, my responses are “I don’t know,” “No,” “I guess,” and “Absolutely!”).

And I’m not here to pass judgment. I only rented the flick because (1) it stars Don Johnson and (2) the poster features a giant mushroom cloud and the tagline “a rather kinky tale of survival.” Yet, by Netflix’s estimation (Netflix absolutely sucks now, by the way), A Boy and His Dog has been collecting dust on my desk for well over six months. The apocalypse, The Don, and boobs—why shelve this DVD for so long?

(End digression.)

You might preemptively deduce what A Boy and His Dog is about. Vic (Don Johnson) is our titular boy and Blood is his faithful mutt companion—but, be warned, this isn’t a precursor to Free Willy. The story is set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland of 2024, sometime after a very nuclear World War IV which has destroyed most of humanity.

Blood is a genetically enhanced super-pooch, partial to popcorn and quoting Henry V. He uses telepathy to communicate with Vic, to teach him much about politics and little about ethics. Blood also tracks other survivors. This nicely compliments Vic’s only clear hobbies: marauding and rape.

A Boy and His Dog is essentially a two act film with a punch line tacked on for an epilogue.

The first act is the companion piece I anticipated peppered with the occasional subversive twist. Vic and Blood march from one desert alcove to the next. Blood provides Vic with wisdom and intel, Vic helps Blood find dinner– they are quite possibly the world’s last and strangest symbiotic pairing.

Sweet, the feature film adaptation of Fallout 3 starring Benji and a young Nash Bridges!

Eventually the duo stumbles upon a naked woman—and why shouldn’t they? The poster promised kink, after all. Vic’s attempts to rape the beautifully inexpressive Quilla (Susanne Benton) are delayed as the two hide from a nearby pack of mutants and then later foiled completely when she consents to give him what he was so set on forcefully taking.

The film switches gears as Vic abandons his dog in order to travel down Quilla’s mysterious rabbit hole (as it were)and into the town of Topeka, a sort of radioactive antithesis to Grover’s Corners.

Naturally, Quilla has her own angle. Topeka’s “city council” apprehends Vic upon arrival. (Rage!) And forces him to impregnate the settlement’s fertile young bachelorettes. (Everything went better than expected.) But the insemination will be an artificial one, and the ejaculate will be extracted through a catheter. (Rage, again!) I enjoyed this second act much less.

It's like Our Town without the Milk Man.

The film climaxes with Quilla and Vic escaping Topeka and returning to the surface. These sequences aren’t particularly thrilling and likely they weren’t meant to be.
By the film’s end, Vic is no longer a boy but a man. And in the final scenes Vic chooses between man’s best friend and his yearning for a different sort of companionship… but I’m getting ahead of myself, and certainly ahead of you. The finale is truly clever and I won’t spoil it for you.

While the wooden acting and shoddy production values cannot be overlooked, A Boy and His Dog combines a peculiar premise with some witty wordplay and the resultant is far from terrible. Not too far from terrible, though—this is a cult film you know.

*Donnie Wayne “Don” Johnson kicks an undeniably awesome amount of ass. From his portrayal of the Marlboro Man to a convincingly dickish pro golfer (in the most underrated golf movie of all time), he rarely disappoints. His raison d'être, of course, is Detective James "Sonny" Crockett from Miami Vice. If you didn’t already know this, turn off your computer and go join the fucking world already.

Don't Lose the Faith

I know updates have been sporadic at best—okay, that’s a lie, they’ve been non-existent—but lately my current nomadic lifestyle doesn’t easily lend itself to blogging.

Internet access isn’t even the problem; it’s the hardware I’m forced to use. The laptop (or netbook, or whatever) I’m presently typing on utilizes a keyboard roughly the size of my right hand. A grown man can’t type that way without accidentally mashing the wrong keys.

Even more frustrating is this damn scroll pad; if I look away from the screen for a microsecond I’ll inevitably accidentally brush against the pad, which will move my blinking cursor into the middle of my previous paragraph, and, well… I’ll stop complaining now.

I’ll try and post more.

Dolphins at Falcons: Week One preview

Most think this will be a high scoring game, but neither offense is really in sync yet and the scoreboard will reflect that.

The Dolphins defense will have five or six sacks total and two forced fumbles off those sacks (courtesy of Jason Taylor and Channing Crowder). Matt Ryan will throw two interceptions (Sean Smith is good for one of those, count on it).

Dan Carpenter's leg will be the difference maker; he will go 3 for 3, all from 40+.

The Dolphins’ only touchdown will be a three-yard Ricky Williams run set up by good field position after Matt Ryan turns the ball over inside of his own 30 yard line.

Miami 16.
Atlanta 10.

Not much I want to talk about around the rest of the NFL, but here’s my Lock of the Week: Houston Texans (-4.5) over the New York Jets.

Notre Dame sucks and so do you

Growing up, my favorite college football team was the University of Miami. I went to most of their home games in the Orange Bowl (it was a half an hour from my house) and they were the most consistently dominating team playing the game so it was pretty easy to become a huge fan.

Eventually, I went to (and many years later finally graduated from) the University of Colorado at Boulder*. The ‘Canes and the Buffs very rarely play each other, so I’m mercifully spared from choosing sides. The tie would go to CU, but it helps knowing that Miami would always kick their ass.

My third favorite? Well, that’s reserved for whichever team is playing Notre Dame. Yup, I’m an Irish Catholic and I hate the shit out of Notre Dame. (And I hate ABC for force-feeding me their games versus Navy instead of giving me ranked match-ups.)

Notre Dame is playing Michigan right now and I could give two shits. Yeah, every catholic in America roots for the Fighting Irish but they also drink the blood of their savior every Sunday. They aren’t to be trusted.

ABC inexplicably renews their broadcast deals with those non-conference nancy-boys regardless of performance or schedule. Actually, the Disney/ABC/ESPN mega-empire may be smarter than I originally thought. If you were a network and you had to pick your pony, why not affiliate yourself with the team whose fan base considers birth control to be a mortal sin? Even if the team sucks, the fans are will procreate so much that your base will never dry up. I see what you did there, Mickey Mouse.

Notre Dame, like USC, Michigan, and Florida, get so much media hype that almost every one of their NFL potentials gets drafted two rounds too early and ends up disappointing.

Who is the best current NFL player to graduate from Notre Dame?

Brady Quinn? Um, no, he hasn’t done shit yet (and I wager he never will).

Julius Jones? Nope, he sucks. He can’t stay healthy.

David Givens? He got his ring, but was only above average.

Ryan Grant? A solid starter, but he will never be a top ten back.

Justin Tuck? He’s good, and one of two current alumni with a Pro Bowl berth, but that pretty much is the result of playing on an already excellent New York Giants defense.

Give up? It’s Craig Hentrich. The punter for the Tennessee Titans. Yup, Notre Dame’s most prolific NFLer kicks the ball five times a game. Compare that to Miami or Florida State or OSU, all of which have great players all across the NFL at almost every position.

Notre Dame has no business being ranked after beating Nevada. Their QB1 Jimmy Clausen is no doubt going to be drafted a round or two sooner than he should. And I’ll say it—it’s going to happen because he’s white and he’s on ABC every Saturday.

Fuck the Fighting Irish, fuck the media, and fuck Charlie Weis.

P.S. – Michigan sucks too

* -- Colorado was humiliated and destroyed by the Toledo (Mud Hens?) last night. We shall never speak of it again.

Dolphins vs. Bucs game diary (08/27/09)

(This is the Dolphin diary I kept running during last night’s game at Tampa Bay. All the times are in mountain standard, so try and not get confused.)

PREGAME
5:57 p.m. Getting juiced on Eminem’s “Lose Yourself.” Sorry, unnatural supplements are needed to get pumped up for any preseason game featuring Tampa Bay.

6:00 Fox coverage begins. (And let me tell you, it’s no movie, there’s no Mekhi Phifer.)

6:01 Not sure what silly techno-punk song is playing over these opening highlights, but it’s sure to excite that large niche who loves both football and raves.

6:02 Joe Buck and Troy Aikman are tonight’s hosts. They’re going to be gold, I can feel it.

6:03 Aikman suggests, twice already, the Dolphins were better last year because Chad Pennington (a.k.a CP10) “quit beating himself.” Not going to touch that one.

6:05 Pam Oliver talks to first year head coach Raheem Morris; he’s 32 and used to be the cornerbacks coach. “This is the first year that it’s his first year,” Joe Buck reminds us. Oliver jabs Morris about refusing to name a starting QB.

6:07 Buck: “Um, we’ll just talk about the other stuff later…. We’re out of time.” Yup, time for kickoff.

1st QUARTER
6:08 Byron Leftwich completes the first pass of the game for seven yards. I thought he still played for Marshall.

6:10 Tony Sparano get’s his first camera coverage. He looks like Godzilla after ransacking the Art Deco District of Miami Beach.

Aikman again rambles on about CP10 not beating himself.

6:11 Leftwich looks great so far. And his game is decent too.

6:14 Dolphins pull a Leon Lett. Patrick Cobbs blocks a punt (the kid does everything), Charlie Anderson tries to field it around the line of scrimmage, but he doesn’t even come close to catching it and the Buccaneers recover the ball and a fresh set of downs. Aikman won’t say it, but the Dolphins are beating themselves here.

6:15 Buck describes Leftwich’s incomplete pass over the middle as “too high and too hard for Kellen Winslow.” Bullshit, that boy is a soldier.

6:16 Cadillac Williams gets through to the secondary for a 19 yard run and a Bucs first down. Dolphins defense is asleep.

6:19 First and goal at the five yard line; the Dolphins defense needs a big play.

Kendall Langford strips Leftwich! The Bucs recover, but for a loss of twelve.

6:20 Third and Goal, Leftwich spends an eternity in the pocket looking for a receiver, but Sean Smith successfully defends his man. They have to settle for a field goal.

6:21 3 – 0 Bucs.

6:23 Back from commercials and boy did those Bud Lights look good. Fox treats us to a recap of the Dolphins remarkable 2008 season (sweet!). And finishes with the highlights from the despicable playoff game against Baltimore (boo!).

6:25 After a first down sack, Joe Buck describes CP10 as “wrapped up in the arms of Jimmy Wilkerson.”

6:26 Brian Hartline makes a great 38-yard third down catch, but the refs flag him for offensive interference. You know you want to say it Aikman, the Dolphins are beating themselves.

6:28 Bad news: we’re punting. Good news: more commercials!

6:31 Aikman “Leftwich has never felt this healthy going into a season.” Without hesitation, Buck, “..and on his back and rolling around is Leftwich.”

6:31 “It’s Thursday, and it’s third and nine.” Joe Buck sure is informative.

6:34 Bucs convert two third downs in a row. Leftwich threads needles when it counts and the Dolphins secondary looks powerless to stop him.

6:37 Crowder makes a great open-field tackle, finally forcing the Bucs to attempt another field goal.

Total Yards - Bucs: 115, Dolphins: 13.

2nd QUARTER
6:40 Field goal is good, 6-0 Buccaneers.

6:42 Buck calling the kickoff return, “…and Ginn runs into his own blocker before going out of bounds.” Yeah, that pretty much sums up Ginn’s career so far.

6:47 The Dolphins punt. Again. They have more punt blocks than first downs so far tonight.

6:48 Buck and Aikman are all over the Michael Vick update. Apparently he’s back in the league.

6:51 A good defensive series for the Fins as the Bucs go three and out.

6:52 Devone Bess catches the punt and immediately runs backward. Anyone else miss Chris Williams?

6:57 The Dolphins came to play the Bucs, but it’s the Tampa Bay Lighting giving them trouble at the moment. The refs suspend play because of severe weather; players head to the locker rooms.

Buck on the delay: “We’re going to make this fun. I mean, you’re going to enjoy it, okay?”

7:02 After about five minutes of watching (which yes, is worse than listening) Aikman and Buck talk, my brain tells me it’s about to explode. I empathize.

7:04 I can’t take another second, I’m switching over to Police Women of Broward County, at least I’m still blogging about South Florida. This blonde cop is super hot, by the way.

7:11 Switching back and forth, Oliver interviews Sparano during the delay. “[We] want to try and eliminate mistakes right now,” he says.

7:12 Buck talks about Bill Parcells for a bit and suggests Coach Sparano wasn’t the “sexy” hire. Clearly, Joe has never seen him rocking a speedo on South Beach.

7:13 Aikman: “Bill Parcells casts a big shadow.” Aikman has thrown Buck an alley-oop there, but Buck refuses to slam it down.

7:27 I’m really, really bored. The delay is stretching over a half-an-hour and the highlight, so far, has been Buck’s improvised commentary. I wish I were joking.

7:28 Oliver interviews Leftwich. He’s likeable and sharp, but he’s entering year seven and has done absolutely nothing in this league.

7:38 The players warm up (again) as Buck and Aikman take us to a commercial. Oh look, they’re selling Plan B. I’m suddenly get the feeling this diary should have aborted an hour ago.

7:41 And we’re back to football! CP10 throws incomplete pass to Hartline and the Fins are forced to punt. Man, was that worth the wait or what?

7:46 Jason Taylor knocks Luke McCown on his ass near the goal line, though he gets off a wobbly pass anyway. Sean Smith and Yeremiah Bell blow the coverage, but get off lightly because the receiver was bobbling it out of bounds.

7:47 First challenge flag of the night. Goodie, another delay!

7:50 After another four minutes of no football, the play stands.

7:51 A penalty before the snap. In the past hour and fifteen minutes, there have literally only been four plays.

7:52 Ernest Graham sheds roughly a plethora of tackles on his way to a huge gain. The Dolphins’ defense is somehow getting worse.

7:55 In reference to drafting Matt Ryan, Aikman says: “hindsight is easy to look at.” Thanks, guy.

7:56 Paul Solai records the Dolphins’ first sack of the game.

7:57 Back-to-back sacks, courtesy of a Nathan Jones outside blitz. Finally, 13 hours into the game, the defense has arrived.

8:01 The Dolphins go three-and-out again. Their offense may finish out the half with only 36 total yards.

8:04 At least the Dolphin-D sucks less.

8:08 Good news: the Bucs are punting! Bad news: the Dolphins are forced to receive. Yup, botch the return and fumble it again. Amazingly enough, the Bucs are unable to recover. This is an evenly matched battle of sheer incompetence, folks.

8:13 Finally, the offense steps up as CP10 connects with Hartline for 17 yards and a first down.

8:14 Davone Bess makes an exceptional catch; unfortunately, he makes it out of bounds.

Aikman: “Pennington floated that one a bit.” Yeah, and Joseph Stalin was kind of a dick.

8:15 Ted Ginn Jr. and his family make a nice grab; that’s two first downs in the same drive and I;m genuinely excited. The 2000 Rams we are not.

8:20 CP10 throws it out of the end zone. Dan Carpenter nails a short field goal with four seconds left in the half.

8:22 Buck laments entering the half: “Sorry for all the talk. It’s what we do.” I don’t even have a joke here.

3rd QUARTER
8:35 Ricky Williams is alive. He picks up eleven yards on two running plays.

8:37 CP10 throws a 55-yard bomb to Hartline. They’ve been on the same page all night. First-and-goal from the five!

8:42 CP10 rolls around forever, getting deeper and deeper into the pocket. Finally, throwing across his body, he finds a wide open Anthony Fasano in the corner of the end zone. Touchdown! All right, Miami.
Carpenter puts it through the uprights and the Dolphins lead 10-6.

8:53 Buck thinks McCown looks better than Leftwich. I think Buck is sniffing glue during commercials.

8:54 Buccaneers opening day QBs since 2004: Brad Johnson, Brian Griese, Chris Simms, and Jeff Garcia (twice). Not exactly Murderer’s Row.

8:58 There’s 7:24 left in the third when Chad Henne gets behind center for the Dolphins. His first pass is incomplete.

8:59 Henne is god at this three-and-out thing too!

9:02 Rookie Josh Freeman takes over for the Bucs at QB. His first pass is incomplete with Smith only inches away from intercepting it.

4th QUARTER
9:11 The Dolphins’ MVP so far is Brandon Fields. When the punter is your only game changer, it’s never a good sign.

9:15 Henne may be the Dolphins’ quarterback of the future, but he’s only the lukewarm backup of the present.

9:18 I was wrong, the MVP so far for the Dolphins is the head referee. He gives us another first down and I secretly hope we can sign him to a one-year contract.

9:21 After three more disastrous plays, the refs bail us out again with a fourth down penalty. You guys are so nice!

9:24Last week’s golden boy, Lex Hilliard, fumbles the ball after an awkward pitch from Henne. Bucs recover.

9:28 Backup LB Erik Walden makes a really impressive shoestring sack on 3rd down.

9:35 Greg Camarillo catches a well thrown pass from Henne on the sideline, and somehow manages to stay in bounds as two cornerbacks whiff on the tackle. Camarillo is one of the slower receivers I can recall, but 40 yards of this 55 yard reception is YAC. It’s a late nominee for Dolphin play-of-the-game.

9:41 Henne lays a golden turd, throwing a terrible interception in the red zone. This game is physically painful. It’s like someone rammed a catheter up my soul.

9:48 Aikman: “Hey Joe, do you have any more of that gum?”

Buck: “That's none of your damn business and I'll thank you to stay out of my personal affairs.”

9:50 Total punts so far: 15.

9:51 Vontae Davis gets away with some pass interfering, but there’s no call and the Bucs turn the ball over on downs. Hey, at least it isn’t a punt.

9:57 Mercifully, there’s only a few minutes left in the game. After what feels like 6 more punts from each side, the Bucs decide to let the clock run out.

10:02 Game over. The Dolphins are 3-0 in the preseason (hooray!), and I’ll never get this four hours of my life back (boo!).