Friday, November 30, 2007

Just in Case You'd Forgotten How Geeky Rickey Is...

You know what the best part of a week long head cold is? It grants you the freedom to say things like “Sorry sweetie, but I can’t possibly wash the dishes in my weakened state, so I’m just going to ride this cold out on the couch with a nonstop Halo marathon.” Dating a nurse has its bonuses: the primary one is they she goes into nurse mode and is totally cool whenever Rickey gets sick and lazy. Indeed, we scored.

And while relaxing on the sofa and using only his opposable thumbs and lesser brain functions, Rickey decided to experiment with the snapshot function in Halo 3 that we previously mentioned. Behold, spectacular photographic evidence of Rickey blowing shit up! (We know, you're probably wondering: "and this betters humanity how exactly?" Look, baby steps people. Rickey will discuss our crippling dependence on foreign oil tomorrow).

But today, take a gander at the pretty pictures! Look, strange alien worlds! Bombast! Explosions! Large codpieces! And all in glorious high resolution!

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So maybe it’s a little geeky, but we figure that if Rickey is going to share some pictures of his hobbies with you folks, those pictures should feature vivid explosions. Is there anything that fireballs can’t improve? We’re gonna say “no.” Look for an upcoming post featuring Rickey’s other hobby (drinking) with some fireballs photoshopped in for good measure. Look, it’s more interesting than posting pictures of one’s dog.

Sadly, if Rickey put as much time into actual photography as he did into this silliness, he’d probably be the next Ansel Adams by now. But hey, it frankly doesn’t matter whether he’s using a free floating camera in a virtual environment or a canon powershot in the real world. We think that Rickey definitely has a photographer’s eye. And that brings us to the following conversation that Rickey had a few nights ago while chatting with a Halo buddy.

Rickey: “Hey dude, want to play a game?”

Anonymous Xbox Live Dude: “Uh, no, something has come up. I’m busy right now.”

Rickey: “Doing what?”

Anonymous Xbox Live Dude: “I’m working on something.”

Rickey: [slight pause] “Care to elaborate?”

Anonymous Xbox Live Dude: “Something big.”

Rickey: “Alright then, good luck with that. Later.”

And then, a few hours later in the evening, Rickey receives the following image from the same guy:

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Apparently, what you're looking at is a recreation of the Iwo Jima Memorial within the Halo universe. The guy rounded up a bunch of friends online, had them arrange themselves in just the right poses, then took a hi-res snapshot of it to share with the world. Well that’s one way to show your patriotism we suppose. Screw boring old 35mm film, imagine if Clint Eastwood had chosen this tableau to work with for “Flags of our Fathers”?

And if that wasn’t terrifying enough, take a gander at this:

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Yep, the poor bastard arranged all the weapons on the level to spell out his marriage intentions. Now that is unfortunate. Somewhere, the hairs on the back of Ms. Henderson’s neck just stood up ever so slightly…

Update: we've just been informed that a Halo themed cosplay wedding is strictly off limits. No word on the possibiliy of having Mr. Met ordain the ceremony however.

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Thursday, November 29, 2007

Maybe it’s the cocktail of cold medicines (yep, still sick) coursing through Rickey’s veins that’s making him feel giddy in the head, but today we figure we’ll blow the doors off this site and share a few pointers with you aspiring bloggers out there. Some of you may be wondering what it takes to become a wildly successful blogger. Well, we’ll tell you: its anger. Unbridled anger. Combine that unfathomably deep anger with a little bit of free time and you, friend, have the makings of a fine blog. Of course, there are a few other details to be aware of, some of which we’ll share today with you in:

Rickey’s Rules COMMANDMENTS OF BLOGGING

1) Try to begin every blog post with a funny picture. Like the one below, for example.

So give this thrilling new pictograph craze a shot—toss up that hilarious picture you’ve got stored on your computer of a squirrel fellating himself. (That fella needs his moment in the spotlight!) A funny picture is a good indication to your readers that you are at least going to attempt to be humorous today.

2) When registering your blog’s domain name, try to avoid misspelling it. In our haste to share our lives with anonymous internet folks, we misspelled Rickey Henderson’s first name. Oops. The unintentional humor skyrockets when you type in the proper spelling with an ‘e’ and are taken to the original blog which contains only a post of Rickey rambling about his dog. We mean come on, what kind of douchebag inaugurates his blog by talking about a Samoyed and then creates a duplicate site with the incorrect spelling? We’re convinced that Blogger hasn’t deleted that site primarily to mock Rickey’s rookie mistakes. Fuck.

3) If you’re feeling like your blog could use a little more publicity, try submitting a column to a Blog Carnival every now and then. Granted, the administrator might not publish it, but nothing beats receiving emails that state “While your article on Shawn Green was rather amusing, I fail to see how it fits in with the Kosher Cooking Carnival. Also, there is far too much cursing in your post to justify publishing it on a family-oriented website.”

4) We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again: respect the lolcat, for it is the blogging equivalent of bread & circuses. See, in the real world, cats generally suck. But in the internet world, a picture of cat poking its head in a cookie jar with a caption reading “I'M IN UR JARZ, EATIN UR COOKEEZ!!!” is pure comedy gold (Jerry).

5) Write lists. Feeling lazy? Having trouble stringing together thoughts and ideas into a cohesive narrative structure? Well then, lists are definitely for you. Be they bullet points, numbered, or lettered, a list is possibly the least creatively demanding way of being funny. We use lists whenever possible. We also talk like Venom from the Spiderman comics, so really, you should be taking all this with a grain of salt.

6) When a blogger posts on your website, you must return the favor. Yep, it sucks and it’s a complete pain in the ass for Rickey to do it, but he does it nonetheless because he begrudgingly respects you. At this point, we’d almost welcome fewer comments if it prevented us from having to go over to some jackass’s site and posting about how their latest column written by a fictional monkey general from the Napoleonic War was a goddamned riot. Because guess what cupcake? It was not.

7) Colorful language is the hallmark of a well rounded blog. We try to spend as much time crafting prosaic sentences as we do carefully determining where to use our next f-bomb. Rickey is nothing if not a Renaissance man.

8) Remember to provide links. Links are fun! Wheee! *note: most readers will never ever clink on the links, so all that time spent finding genuinely funny material will go by the wayside 9 times out of 10. And for added comedic effect, be sure to include a picture of some sausage links! Or maybe some dude in leather using some chain links for autoerotic asphyxiation. It’s your call—either one is hilarious in their own way.

9) Blog constantly. Doesn’t matter if it’s funny or not. If you’re out there frequently posting on your blog like a coked up jackrabbit, the people will come. Oh yes, the people will come—they won’t even know why. Much like the disgraced 1919 White Sox emerging onto Kevin Costner’s baseball diamond in “Field of Dreams.” We’re not even kidding with that analogy: judging by the recent Google searches that have led people to this site, you have done something seriously wrong if you’ve ended up here. Seriously, which one of you lunatics keeps searching for "naked horse cult" or "masturbatorium gulag"?

10) Try not to pigeon hole yourself by impersonating a famous sports figure and then proceeding to impose upon them a personality that is eccentric, pompous, and bombastic. It tends to alienate and befuddle newcomers just a bit. D’oh. Hey look, after almost a year, we’ve totally nailed Rickey’s third person manner of speaking, so at least there’s that. And now we’re working on the editorial voice. How’s THAT for comedy?!

11) Need a bit more oomph in your witty little jokes? Worried that your readers might not understand what you’re trying to emphasize? Meet Rickey’s friend, the italic button. He’s witty, subtle, and vaguely Italian! Best of all he’s not nearly as brash and coarse as his German brother, the bold button.

12) Unless you’re running a blog paying homage to the unstoppable killing machine that is Jack Bauer, avoid using a black background with white text template. We cannot stress this strongly enough. There are several problems with this, the predominate one being unnecessary eye strain. Also, the black background & white text reminds your viewers of passé websites circa 1998 containing angry rants. Finally, you need to be aware that many of your blog’s readers may be viewing your site at work, and don’t want to get caught by their boss reading ominous black web sites that suggest they’re procuring guns, devil worshipping literature, or Castlevania walkthroughs. Not that Rickey is paranoid or anything…

13) You can never run out of material. In the world we inhabit, there are always new things to blog about. Try listening in on friends’ conversations and waiting for someone to say something funny. When they do, be sure to exclaim “by Jove, that sounds like something I could blog about!” and then scamper off to the nearest computer to do so.

14) Or maybe try to blog about blogging itself. Kind of like what we just did here. Hah, how freaking meta is that? Did we just blow your goddamned mind?

And that just about wraps things up. Yes, we realize that by sharing this proprietary information, Rickey has effectively handed away the keys to the kingdom. But frankly, any attempted facsimiles would lack the moxie, gumption, and hilarious f-bombs that can only be found here at RwR. Our apologies if this made not a damn lick of sense, but like we said earlier, Rickey is all hopped up on cold medicine. Kind of like Stephen King when he wrote “Dreamcatcher,” except that excuses only one of King's awful writings… Rickey has an entire portfolio of fierce irreverence to stand proudly upon.

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Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Your Wednesday YouTubery

Fundamental truth #167: ask any guy what musical instrument he wishes he could play and he’ll invariably tell you the guitar. This is because there’s a societal myth out there pertaining to women enjoying being wooed by guitar. Rickey has never had the opportunity to try this out, but perhaps once he obtains Guitar Hero III, he’ll test this theory on Ms. Henderson. (We hear that the ladies love being serenaded by the Halo theme). But in the meantime, we’ll ask our female readers this question: how many of you consider the gentlemen in the video below to be viable dating candidates?



Ah yes, the classical guitar: not quite rock n’ roll... not quite classical music... …just 100% jangly and awful. If you’re an aspiring musician who also happens to be asexual, well then, the classical guitar is most definitely up your alley. These guys don’t quite rock out but if you look closely, there’s definitely some most excellent head bobbing going on in this video.

We tip our caps to these rockers for making “Bohemian Rhapsody” sound even dorkier than the original Queen version. Rickey particularly enjoyed the guitar solo at the 3:10 mark, when Woo totally loses his shit and succumbs to a prolonged bout of head bobbing. We’re not certain whether that’s the least or the most animated Asian we’ve ever seen…And he does seem to be smirking an awful lot, doesn’t he? Care to take bets on the percentage of this band possessing English degrees? Rickey is guessing two thirds, but we could easily be looking at a triumvirate of Loyola English Lit majors here.

And for all those who would say that it’s easier to criticize than create, we’ll have you know that Rickey already has plans to start up his own classical guitar trio: “Wyld Scallions.”

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Monday, November 26, 2007

Rickey's Weekend Roundup

You know, the funny thing is that we were totally looking forward to this past weekend. But after two Thanksgiving dinners and three liver punishing nights of holiday drinking, Rickey’s immune system cried uncle and he’s now sick as a dog. ( We strongly suspect Avian flu). Rickey spent most of Sunday swaddled in a blanket and ambling around the apartment all hopped up on cough syrup and muttering things like “I’m retiring from drinking.” And in order to prevent some of the knowledge we gained this past weekend being lost to posterity, here’s a list of things Rickey learned over the Thanksgiving holiday:

1) Every year, right around Thanksgiving, comes the game that heralds the NY Giants’ intentions to totally quit on Tom Coughlin. You can set your watch by this.

2) Leaves still on the trees in late November is unnatural. Rickey does not approve of this recent development.

3) Thanksgiving guests who boast of their plans to open up a hot dog stand in New Jersey staffed by buxom ladies on rollerblades are always fun. Thanksgiving guests who do this and then suddenly pass out on a couch are even more fun.

4) Pumpkin cupcakes are the freaking balls. Seriously.

5) Guitar Hero III impresses but also terrifies Rickey. It’s freaking hard. Moreover, what’s the age statute of limitations on asking for videogames for Christmas with a straight face? 28? At what age does Rickey need to start requesting gifts like wallets and ties in order to appear more respectable?

6) The NYTimes’ Turkey Barley Risotto recipe is bar none the best way to make use of your leftover Turkey. (Rickey recommends adding carrots to the recipe however as well as doubling the shitake mushroom amount).

7) “The Mist” is simultaneously the scariest, funniest, and bleakest flick you’ll see all year. The entire movie is reminiscent of the “well that escalated quickly” scene from Anchorman, while at the same time it does a great job at making an audience scream out loud. And the ending? Well we won’t ruin it for you, but it’s far bleaker than the one in Stephen King’s book (Think “Night of the Living Dead”). Rickey enjoyed the movie, but felt it could’ve done without the weighty social commentary.

8) No matter how ill you are, calling out sick from work the Monday after a holiday weekend is never acceptable behavior. Sucks, but it’s true.

9) Blog posts containing a mock interview with Bryant Gumble and Tony Almeida are always amusing. What? You thought that the "24" nutcases are fazed by the fact that their show isn't returning until Fall, 2008? Think again.

10) Finally, the vodka cranberry is the drink of Lucifer himself. You’d think all the antioxidants in the cranberry juice would’ve helped strengthen Rickey’s immune system, but no...

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Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Rickey recognizes that you, the reader, can easily become overwhelmed by the Thanksgiving holiday. But not us. Never us. And that’s why we’re sharing the following list of do’s and don’ts with you in hopes of simplifying what can be a very hectic holiday. Please enjoy our first annual installment of:


Rickey’s Tips for Having a Keen Time This Thanksgiving

1) Start off the holiday right: with a warm nice bath in Iroquois blood. Look, either you’re on board with the idea of celebrating the white man’s theft of the land from Native Americans or you’re not. Sorry gang, but there’s no middle ground here.

2) If your friends and family are discussing what they’re most thankful for, it’s generally considered poor form to blurt out that you’re thankful for the Dallas Cowboys covering the spread.

3) However, nothing is as hilarious as suddenly and inexplicably yelling out bombastic football ads while at the dinner table: KITNA! FARVE! IT’S THANKSGIVING DAY FOOTBALL ON FOX!

4) The first person to use the word “tryptophan” at the dinner table will be required to eat the remainder of their meal in the coat closet. Yes, we all know what tryptophan is fucko, we know it's in turkey, and we know it makes us sleepy. We’ve heard it a bazillion goddamned times. Your expansive knowledge of date rape drugs is overwhelmingly impressive. Thanks for letting us know that your Vassar education is finally paying off.

5) Absolutely do not screw around with making your own cranberry sauce. Canned, gelatinous cranberry sauce is as much as integral part of Thanksgiving as the Turkey. 10 points if you can get it to vacate the can in perfect cylindrical form!

6) Think about creating your very own Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade drinking game. Rickey’s consists of:

  • Drinking whenever a parade balloon drifts dangerously close to pedestrians.
  • Drinking whenever the sudden, terrifying appearance of Willard Scott makes the cat flee the room in panic.
  • Drinking whenever the word “Macy's” is used.

7) Two Thanksgivings are better than one. Rickey’s family celebrates the holiday this Thursday and Ms. Henderson’s family celebrates it on Friday. You know damn well what the implications of this are. Rickey, ever the gastronomical opportunist, will be double dipping this week. We strongly advise you to look into doing the same.

8) Consider not cooking a Turkey this year. How about a swan instead? They’re bigger, so that means you’ll get more stuffing.

9) However, try to avoid going crazy with the poultry stuffing idea and create a Turducken (that would of course be a chicken stuffed inside a duck stuffed inside a turkey). Come on now folks… Imagine if aliens celebrated their Thanksgiving by stuffing a human inside a bear inside a elephant. That would just be unnecessary, right?

10) Most importantly, don’t get weird with the stuffing. Cornbread stuffing is stretching things far enough. If you venture into the realm of potato latke stuffing or oyster stuffing, then you, friend, are a jackass. You know what kind of stuffing Rickey likes? Normal fucking stuffing. The kind that comes in a plastic bag and says “Pepperidge” on it.

11) Think about working a prank into the Thanksgiving festivities. A little frivolity goes a long way to lighten things up on what could easily become a dreary snooze fest. For example, one of Ms. Henderson's family members enjoys hiding bird feathers in Ms. Henderson's books and other personal effects for Ms. Henderson to discover at a later date. It's a prank, see? So when the Avian Flu breaks out in Rickey's apartment, at least he'll know where it came from.

12) After eating, refrain from retreating to the sofa and unbuttoning your belt buckle. We’re not certain that even James Bond could make that maneuver look acceptable. Why not go for broke and remove your pants altogether? Or just eat nude in the first place?

13) Leftovers aren’t nearly as bad as you’d think. Try putting your leftover turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, gravy and mashed potatoes between two pieces of bread then eating it like a sandwich. Behold: Thanksgiving in sandwich form!

And with that, Rickey is off for the remainder of the week. Rickey will be back on Monday. Yes, we know, what will you do until then? Well, we don’t know really. But here are some suggestions:

Egan Foote tipped Rickey off to a terrific site that allows snarky miscreants to create their very own mock motivational posters. You know, this seems like the kind of thing folks could blog about...

Or you could research the fascinating world of wild Brooklyn parrots (no joke, they exist).

Then perhaps join the campaign to help Huey Lewis. In one of his many alarming parallels with Patrick Bateman, Rickey happens to love Huey's work. Best of all, this whole thing was started up by some lunatic who even sounds like Patrick Bateman in American Psycho:

It’s long been known by me that Huey Lewis is an under-appreciated and
misunderstood genius. Ballads like "Do You Believe in Love" and "The Power of
Love" are classics of the earworm genre. "Workin’ for a Livin’" spoke
timelessly of the working man’s plight, and the songs "Walkin' on a Thin
Line" and "Back in Time" addressed the serious issues of the struggles facing
Vietnam veterans and time travelers, respectively.

Intentional or not, that is some solid humor. And if you're still wanting for stimulation, maybe twiddle your thumbs for a bit. Monday will be here before you know it. Enjoy the holiday folks. Happy Thanksgiving.

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Tuesday, November 20, 2007

This Week in Media Malfeasance...

For reasons that currently escape us, Rickey watches NBC’s Today Show each morning for 30 minutes before driving to work. Possibly this is because it is the kind of low level sensory input we can handle from 7AM to 7:30AM. Possibly because we dig Al Roker’s comedic antics. Possibly because Rickey secretly has the hots for Anne Curry (seriously gang, news broads are strangely attractive--have you seen Soledad O’Brien?) The sum of all these elements combines into a morning news/entertainment venue that is shallow, bland, & uninteresting, yet strangely soothing at the same time. Much like oatmeal. If anyone out there knows of another morning news program more worthy of Rickey’s attention please please let Rickey know. Because we can only take one more installment of “Where in the World is Matt Lauer?” before clambering up a bell tower with a high powered rifle and a lengthy list of names.

Most of the subject matter the Today Show chooses to report on fits squarely into the category of “non-news.” And it is that trend of reporting on inconsequential human interest stories that Rickey would like too briefly rant about today. You know what we’re talking about: children trapped in wells, celebrity trials, tropical depressions, any time Tiki Barber appears in front of the camera. Rickey’s current front runner for the title of “Most Inane Non-News Story of the Year” is the coverage of the Thanksgiving rush. Don’t get us wrong, Rickey enjoys Thanksgiving a lot (he’ll probably write a column about it tomorrow) but a morning news story entitled “Your Countdown to the Thanksgiving Rush” seems to be just a tad on unnecessary side.

At what point did it become necessary for journalists to be dispatched to airports to report on angry travelers being herded from point A to point B? Do think Rickey gives a damn about the fat bastards in this country who fuel up their SUVs or take to the skies and travel to distant relatives’ houses to gorge themselves and spread their narcissistic unhappiness? Do we really need a camera stationed outside a Walmart in Iowa at 4AM the day after Thanksgiving so that we can witness a pack of jackasses competing to see who can poison their children first with Chinese toys this Christmas?

The price of oil was roughly $30 per barrel when the Bush Administration took office in January, 2001. Now it's up to $100 and climbing. It sure would be swell to hear people talk about what's causing that, wouldn't it? We’d like to see news programs cover stories like that rather than the ridiculous “pain at the pump!” segments featuring averge joe grinning sheepishly when he’s asked what he thinks about rising gas prices. You know, something a little more hard hitting than the usual network fluff. Something that might cause Midwesterners to think twice before piling their over stimulated 13 year old brats into an SUV and shuttling them to the mall to watch “Beowulf” in IMAX 3-D.

You know the adage about the population “getting the leaders that they deserve”? Well yes, that is what Rickey bitterly thought after the 2004 election, but it’s not entirely true. We, the American people, get the leaders that the media makes us too complacent to ask any serious questions about. We hear fluff news stories about how Mitt Romney is a wacky Mormon whose religious beliefs alienate voters, but how about a story reporting on how he’s a complete sleaze bag whose indecisiveness and willingness to sell out to the highest bidder totally eclipses John Kerry’s alleged flip flopping in 2004? The talking heads have no problem discussing Hillary Clinton’s “likability” ad nauseum, but how about a hard hitting piece discussing her crippling fear of being perceived as unpatriotic and how it could easily cost her and the Democratic Party the 2008 election? Or whether she’d repeal the Patriot Act if elected?

Hm, well, seeing that this has quickly devolved into a bitter political rant, Rickey will now wrap things up. Ugh, we were just a few sentences away from quoting Ben Franklin. We suppose that a blog that considers itself humorous (my God, it's become self-aware!) should probably operate within those guidelines and not discuss topics that make the reader want to shove their head in an oven. But news companies that consider themselves responsible should report on actual news. That’s all we’re saying. Rickey out.

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Monday, November 19, 2007

Rickey's Obligatory New Car Post

Bad news for Volvo enthusiasts everywhere: Rickey has relegated his 1991 Volvo 740GL to the great scrap yard in the sky. Indeed, as we speak, Odin and the other Norse Gods of War are taking Rickey’s former Volvo for a spin around the celestial block. Sorry Toasty Joe, Rickey has hopped off the Volvo bandwagon. Best of luck with your new Germanic chariot (which Rickey highly suspects was paid for with funds gained from a recent settlement with the Subway corporation).

Anyhow, having driven the car for 5 years until the odometer read 200,000+ miles, we feel that it was time for Rickey to move on to his next automotive love. While this decision was by no means made lightly, Rickey feels that it was indeed the proper one. If any of you newbies are wondering what exactly this monstrous car looked like, take a peek at the picture below (hint: it’s the vehicle that’s still standing upright).

Indeed, fortunately for you, the reader, it is probably thanks to this behemoth’s hefty weight that Rickey is still alive today. (Details on the event can be found hither). So Rickey is a little emotional about parting with it. But in the end, it was the Volvo’s auditory protestations that caused Rickey to cast it aside. As a rule, rectangular cars made from cast iron tend to be a little loud. Indeed, the aging automobile made an awful lot of sounds and noises, some of which Rickey will now share with you. Playing the role of “The Volvo” this evening will be Ms. Henderson’s German grandmother, Oma.

[Rickey steps on the accelerator] “Ach! Schnell? You want to schnell? Very well, I vill do this, but it is going to make people outside look at you funny. I’m built for practicality, not speed you know.”

[Rickey steps on the brakes] “Mmm, that’s nice. I veigh one metric ton. You are going to feel this.”

[Rickey reaches to hand crank his sunroof open] “Ya, dat is jammed. I just vanted you to know that.”

[Rickey makes a right turn] “Ach, what zee crap is this? I enjoy left turns only —could you just make three of those? No? Vell okey dokey, well here we go. By zee way, it is August and you are still driving on snow tires. Das is verboten you dummkopf.”

[Rickey reaches to adjust his seat at a stop light] “Ach, Lebensraum? You vant lebensraum? Do you not know what happened last time someone who owned German property desired dat? Fine, move the seat back to stretch your legs a vee bit, but do not complain to me when Tom Cruise and Bryan Singer arrive in your back yard to make a movie 60 years from now.”

Rickey never made it to Germany, so that may read more like French. Or possibly Count Chocula. Look, we tried goddamnit. Anyway, Rickey ditched the Volvo and decided to purchase something of equally proud Nordic descent: a Saab 9-3. It’s nice to finally drive a car that boasts things like cup holders, airbags, power steering, etc. And we’re pleased to report that it’s totally awesome. How awesome? Well they don’t manufacture the hatchback model Rickey owns anymore so we’re going to say very awesome. Screw the naysayers at GM—you idiots don’t know what trunk space is until you’ve fit enough food to feed Marlon Brando for a month into your vehicle.

True to all other Saab models, its design and handling are aircraft inspired, the ignition is located on the floor, the fuel gauge reads ‘F’ and ‘R,' and it drives like a freaking revelation. We’re still unsure as to what a variety of buttons on this Swedish mountain car’s instrumentation panel actually do, but once we figure out those nagging details, we’ll be sure to share them with you. So far Rickey’s favorite feature would have to be “Night Mode,” which shuts down all the lights in the vehicle except for the exterior lights and speedometer. There is nothing quite as exhilarating and hitting this stealth mode button at night and punching the gas. And best of all, it brings Rickey on step closer to his lifelong dream of being Batman.

Moreover, thanks to a driving a more fuel efficient vehicle, Rickey has made great strides in his quest to reduce his carbon footprint. (We tried trading fuel emissions with Rickey’s next door neighbor, but for some reason the guy wouldn’t listen). Congratulations, well wishes, and remarks of “please don’t crack the fucking engine block on this one like you did when you were 16” can be left in the comments section below.



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Thursday, November 15, 2007

Your Almighty Update

If the previous article wasn’t any indication, we here at RwR enjoy occasionally poking fun at Jesus freaks (if we could physically poke them in real life without any fear of karmic repercussions, we’d do that too). And since another misbegotten madman already has the market cornered on ridiculing crummy church signs, Rickey has decided to occasionally post about something even better: divine manifestations in the most unlikely of places.

As a rule, we appreciate it when God takes a break from his busy schedule to come down and speak to humanity. It’s a welcome change in one’s day. And since the burning bush shtick elicits kind of a “been there, done that” response from the masses nowadays, the Lord has apparently found new and unique ways of getting his across to mankind: in pancake form. Indeed, someone in Port St. Lucie, Florida has intercepted a message from God while cooking up flapjacks.


Quoth our modern day Moses, “I think the message is extremely clear that the world had better clean up its act.” Yep, because when the big fella upstairs wants to let humanity know he’s displeased with how things are running down here, he’ll absolutely dispatch his message in sweet sugary pancake form. Possibly buttermilk. And what are the recipients of God’s message doing with this Holy Pancake? Why selling it on ebay to turn a profit, of course. Because as we all know, Jesus' disciples spent a long time toiling over that section in the Bible which discusses the positive effects of free market capitalism. Here's the description of the wondrous pancake from the ebay ad:

“This is a spiritual, unusual and unique pancake that we believe to be holy and
depicts what looks to be Jesus and Mary. My brother said it looks
more like Moses and Elijah. What is your guess?? It was created
on November 5th by accident along with a batch of pancakes for breakfast.”
With no suspicions of any figures being in it, my mother flipped it over to do
the other side and discovered that these are obviously religious figures dressed
in the early desert garb that would have been worn at that time in Jeruselem.
Before she could stop herself, my mother was sprinkling chocolate powder when
she stopped immediately after noticing the obvious!! The pancake was too special
to serve, and so we offer it for your admiration and perhaps purchase. It should
have happened at Christmas, but close enough. This is being preserved safely
until purchase by being wrapped in saran and enclosed in a
temperature-controlled foam tray. If you would like to own this pancake, you may
feel free to bid. We created this Ebay ID just for this pancake! Thank you for
looking. The shipping is FREE. We never dreamed that something unusual would
happen to us. God bless those that took the time to look at our wondrous
pancake. We have decided to donate at least half of this to a worthy
cause. One of the family members has a rare movement disorder called
Dystonia. If you are hesitant because of the feedback (as this is a new ID) -
please check my main Ebay ID (beadz37) as that is mine as well. My feedback
there is over 80 and 100 percent positive. Thanks!”

Thoughts? Well for someone who could easily be the modern day Messiah, the recipient of this Holy Pancake is being remarkably cavalier about the whole thing. Why must we guess whether it is Moses or Elijah that is portrayed in this pancake? These are serious spiritual matters we’re talking about here, not a goddamned game show. Rickey especially enjoyed the part of the ad discussing “early desert garb that would have been worn at that time in Jerusalem.” Apparently all it takes is several years of Sunday school, Florida’s failing school systems, and an oddly shaped pancake to suddenly transform anyone into an expert Bible historian. Who knew?

Even more curious is how the seller refers to the pancake's creation as being accidental. Since when is divine will considered an accident? If you’re the religious type, isn’t it just a tad blasphemous to receive a message from God and then refer to it as a happy accident? But hey, at least they’re being Christian about the whole thing and offering free shipping. So there’s that.

And P.S.: Jesus, if you’re reading this, Rickey only responds to divine messages if they appear in quesadillas. As a rule, Rickey cannot be bothered with Biblical manifestations while eating breakfast at 7AM.

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Wednesday, November 14, 2007

What's Rickey Listening to on His Way to Work?

In this column, Rickey will periodically update you on what music is revolving in his car’s compact disc player as he navigates his way to the office. Some material may range from noteworthy to foot-stompingly awesome, while other material Rickey may have blindly downloaded and listened to for the first time this morning. It’s a mixed bag of good and bad which Rickey will listen to and report in on periodically. If being hip is your thing, then proceed onward and feel free to adjust your musical tastes to align with Rickey’s.

You know what’s fun? Getting all nostalgic and deciding to catch up with a 90’s alternative rock band only to be sorely disappointed. This is what happened to Rickey when he figured he’d see what Collective Soul is up to these days. Remember Collective Soul? They were a moderately popular band when Rickey was a teenager. Rickey clearly remembers standing in a music store at age 14, trying to decide whether to buy Live's "Throwing Copper" or Collective Soul's "Hints, Allegations, and Things Left Unsaid."

Rickey went with the Collective Soul album (hey look, at least he didn’t pick Toad the Wet Sprocket) and the rest is history. For the rest of the 1990's Rickey had to sit back and watch Live become successful and popular while Collective Soul became bland(er) and uninteresting. Clearly, Rickey had chosen poorly. Look, you know you’ve picked a seriously bad band to follow when you hear one of its singles (“Run”) playing on the soundtrack for a James Van Der Beek football movie.

But then of course Live also fell hard from grace and now in the year 2007 it is equally embarrassing for one to proclaim themselves to be fans of either band. But Rickey sheepishly stands behind his decision at the time: Collective Soul was arguably a fairly decent post-grunge singles act. We apologize to anyone whose sensibilities this offends. More importantly, there’s still a chance, however slim, that Collective Soul could get their shit together and become a decent modern rock band once again.

This is what motivated Rickey to give Collective Soul’s new album, “Afterwords,” a listening to during his drive to work this morning. And we’re sad to report that it’s completely godawful. Below are the lyrics from the first song Rickey played on the album:

You're all that I know
When the sun goes down
You're all that I know
When the sun comes
Rising like the devil in me
And when tomorrow wakes
It's sure to show
You're all that I know

And this is when alarm bells started sounding in the back of Rickey’s head. We’d like to think that when they sing “You’re all that I now/When the sun goes down” they’re talking to a woman, but we’ve got a creeping suspicion that they’re actually addressing the big man upstairs. Don’t believe us? Well then, read this:

Yeah you give up some days
When the tears they must flow
But God is always your strength

Um, yeah… Forget the trite lyrics and hackneyed rhythms—what really irks Rickey is that he was bamboozled into listening to a Christian rock band. Make no mistake, there is no other form of music more cringe worthy and insipid than a group of white guys singing the praises of the Lord in alternative rock format. And there is nothing worse than discovering that the band you enjoyed as a youth has devolved into writing songs that are intended to be heard during Christian Youth Group meetings.

Look, listening to Creed is one thing. Thanks to their music videos featuring candles, rosary beads, and Scott Stapp standing at the precipices of various ledges with arms outstretched in vaguely Jesus-like poses, we knew from day two what those pricks were up to. But Collective Soul? Come on now people. They were one of Rickey’s favorites, which makes this horrific discovery a complete suck punch for Rickey. As far as musical sucker punches go, discovering that a band you liked as a kid has devolved into a pop rock band with religious overtones, ranks up there with John and Yoko’s “Wedding Album,” “Two Virgins,” or “Life With the Lions” (take your pick).

What an awful, awful album. Thank God Rickey didn’t pay for it. But on the bright side, while pontificating about alt-rock atrocities, Rickey dreamt up a terrific new message board handle: “Better than Ezra but Less Than Jake”. So the morning wasn't a total loss anyway.

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Tuesday, November 13, 2007

This is where Rickey posts recommendations of noteworthy consumables, practices, and pastimes that have been deemed invaluable for the reader’s betterment. All products and pieces of advice listed herein have been Rickey tested and approved. Again, this is in no way shape or form a complete rip off of McSweeney’s (fa-la-la-la-la, lawyers, Rickey can’t hear you). Enjoy this week’s installment of

RICKEY RECOMMENDS:

Consuming an entire pizza on your own. C’mon, you can do it… Or maybe you can’t, but then so what? You’ve still got breakfast sitting in the fridge tomorrow morning. Everyone’s a winner!

Twin Peaks - The Definitive Gold Box Edition. Having been too young to watch this show when it originally aired on tv, Rickey is recommending it sight unseen. We’re fairly certain it’s worth the investment of time & money. Don’t bother telling Rickey how good an experience is in store for him. Rickey will watch this show and then tell you what your opinion about it should be.

Pregaming. Should you really be spending $7 per bottle of beer times 10 in one night? Rickey says no goddamnit. A few bottles of Labatt Blue before you commence an evening never hurt anyone. Hitting the ground running is what it’s all about people. Just don’t come crying to us when you’re hung over the next day and babbling rubbish about “retiring from drinking.” You know damn well that’s a pack of lies anyway.

Call of Duty 4. We’re tired of your run of the mill WWII shooters: been there, done that. And now that recent international affairs have become much more …shall we say, “interesting” in recent years, the time was ripe for Infinity Ward to make a modern shooter. And Rickey can report that this one does not pull any punches. We’re not sure what was more impressive: using the heat sensors of an AC130 gunship to eliminate a rogue Russian nationalist army, or scurrying around somewhere in the Middle East and trying pull off a long-distance sniper shot while correcting for wind, relative humidity, and the freaking Coriolis effect. Oh yeah, and there’s multiplayer too. The game is off the goddamned hook.

Electric Light Orchestra. Hey kids, tired of listening to music that makes you want to cry while in the shower? Everyone needs a few peppy bands in their musical portfolio and this is one of Rickey’s. While “Mr. Blue Sky,” “Hold on Tight” and “Don’t Bring me Down” are their more popular works, Rickey enjoys listening to “Showdown” most of all. Never has there been a song that is at once so ridiculous, so overly dramatic, and so totally fucking awesome at the same time (“It’s raining all over the world/Tonight, the longest night”). Every time Rickey hears this song, it pumps him up. It’s like his personal Rocky theme. And yes, we know it was used in “Kingpin”, a very underrated movie. We just saved ourselves from having to read about 10 messages telling us this. Score for us.

Finding a bookie. As of this writing, we’re still working on this one. Rickey feels that he knows just enough about the NFL (we hear good things about Tom Brady!) to give things a shot. How does one obtain a bookie anyway? By soliciting one online? This venture will seem much less appealing to Rickey when he has to sell large portions of his skin and/or marry a Ukrainian man to pay off his debts.

Pushing Daisies. Hey kids, do you like a little whimsy in your Wednesday night tv lineup? Well then give this show a shot—it’s really impossible not to enjoy. We’re petty sure that Digby, the main character’s pet golden retriever, can emote. And you theater going folks will be happy to hear that Kristen Chenoweth stars in it.

Not frequenting an eating establishment whose name begins with “Ye Olde.” It’s a recipe for disaster, just trust us on this one.

Owning your very own arcade machine featuring a beer dispenser. Rickey salutes you, Mr. "I Put A Kegerator into an Arcade Cabinet" Guy. You've found a way to bring two of Rickey’s loves into one place: drinking beer and playing games most people gave up when they were twelve. Bravo sir. Now who’s got $2,000 to loan Rickey?

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Friday, November 9, 2007

Your Weekly Mickey Rourke Update

Every now and then Rickey likes to post news of a celebrity scandal to appease the masses. We tend to shy away from the usual Britney Spears/Lindsey Lohan nonsense because frankly, it’s just kind of uninteresting and depressing. No, when we want awesome celebrity exploits, we look no further than the tragicomedy stylings of one Mickey Rourke. Indeed, this failed actor, boxer, and legendary Hollywood bad boy is a celebrity whose antics are truly worthy of mention.

For those who missed it, Mickey Rourke was arrested yesterday for drunkenly operating a (wait for it…. wait for it…) vespa. We will repeat that because it bears repeating: Mickey Rourke is still alive and was apparently charged with a DUI while driving a vespa. Why? We don't know, because he's an insane jackass we guess...

But frankly, what else should one expect from an actor whose last half-decent film featured Lisa Bonet dancing under a chicken blood shower? Rickey thought about it, and realized that Mickey Rourke is one of the rare people to rival Rod Stewart for greatest amount of talent squandered within one’s lifetime. And then Rickey took a stroll down memory lane to recall watching “Angel Heart,” a movie that arguably changed Rickey’s life.

Let's be honest now: any film that features Robert De Niro playing the devil and Mickey Rourke drowning someone in a vat of gumbo is clearly worth your time and money. Also, it's worth nothing that when this movie was released, it made a nation collectively gasp out loud: "sweet fancy moses, what is Denise Huxtable doing?" In summation, here’s what Rickey learned after watching “Angel Heart”:

1)That gumbo is tasty
2)Never to cross a voodoo woman
3) Never to engage in conversation with an eccentric couple walking by the ocean
4) That Mickey Rourke would one day attain permanent stardom and multiple Oscars

Arguably, we were wrong about that last point, but there’s still time for Rourke to get his shit together. Until then, we’re more than happy to report on any vespa/scooter/moped/llama DUI charges than Mickey Rourke may inflict upon himself.

And remember, if you see just one movie this year that falls into the classification of “film noir erotic mystery starring a seedy gumshoe with questionable morals,” well then definitely make “Angel Heart” your top choice.

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Thursday, November 8, 2007

Finger Jousting Update #2

Much to our dismay, Rickey was banned from posting in the WFJF forums, thereby reaffirming the fact that Julian Gluck lacks both dignity and a sense of humor. So frankly, we're kind of tired of the prick at the moment. If anyone has a video camera and is able to successfully challenge one of these sexually confused youngsters to a finger joust, please let us know, because there's a brilliant mockumentary in here somewhere. Meanwhile, in another part of town, Egan Foote continues his crusade to convince Mr. Gluck to joust him. Keep on fighting the good fight Egan. If it helps, Rickey is more than willing to assume the role of Doc, the trainer from "Punch-Out!!" should a duel occur.

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Beard Watch: Day 89

Some of you are perhaps wondering how that beard thing we mentioned earlier is going. Is Rickey still your go to guy for all things beard-related? Well, let’s put it this way: if you were to type in the phrase “how to convince your wife you need a beard” in Google, this very site pops up as the first result. (Seriously, as per Sitemeter, some lonely man actually ran that query and ended up on this site). So yes, we’re still your one stop shop for men seeking a new and unique way to scare children and alienate loved ones.

And so we celebrate 89 glorious days of beard ownership. Rickey did the math and that computes to 7,689,600 seconds spent without any meddlesome interference from the cheese eating surrender monkeys at the Gillette Corporation. About two months into this strange and savage journey, Rickey realized that a neatly trimmed beard is absolutely the way to go. This is because a neatly trimmed beard will garner its owner a much desired “rugged yet sophisticated” description from passers by, and that’s really what we were shooting for when we began this experiment. Along the way there have been challenges, primarily in the form of some parts of the beard wanting to grow faster than others. To this day, we still don’t know why Sir Mandrake in sector 14 insists on growing faster than his follicular peers. Perhaps some things are better left unexamined.

Granted, beard trimming is an annoyance, but in the end, the hassle is well worth the trouble. Most amateur beard growers out there will let their beards grow for a mere week before they panic and shave it off, and then immediately regret that decision. It's a vicious cycle people. Rickey says: damn the societal standards of decency. How are you ever going to front a sex-rock band if you’re weighed down by morals? Do you think Hemingway, Shackleton, and Red Green paused to consider the social repercussions of growing a beard? Not a chance—like true pioneers, they just went for it. To all you folks considering growing beards, Rickey advises you to really go for it. It’s up to you to stretch the boundaries of what your beard can do for you.

Best of all, with winter now upon us, Rickey has no need for a face muffler, or whatever it is you limp wristed & bare cheeked pedestrians use to keep your faces warm in the winter. No matter where you live in the world, a warm face is paramount, because in the end, what's important is your health. Like the fellow pictured on the left, Rickey is fully winterized. So bring it on, climate change. Rickey and his marvelous winter beard are ready for you.

And for those keeping score at home the transformation is now complete. As we write this, Rickey is in possession of the following items:

1 corduroy blazer
1 late model Volvo
1 copy, “Hound of the Baskervilles
1 pair glasses
1 bountiful man-beard

Is that tweedy enough for you? By our math, Rickey is just a trip to the pipe shop away from possessing tenure at the local community college. (A bottle of calvados gets him a chair at Smith!)

So in summation, we feel that we’ve really tested the limits of what a beard can do for a man. Rickey will be keeping the beard for the duration of the winter, and we’ll mark the coming of spring with the shaving of the beard. Expect a full-blown ballad lamenting the loss of the beard when that happens.

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Wednesday, November 7, 2007

In Which Rickey Loses His Tenuous Calm

Picture yourself driving home from work on a nice sunny autumn day. You’re whistling happily along with a tune on the radio. Good old Mr. Sun is smiling down upon you. Maybe there’s a bluebird on your shoulder. In other words, things are definitely looking rosy for you at the moment. And then you see something. Something so mindbogglingly aggravating that you almost crash your vehicle into a fire hydrant. On purpose.

You know that scene in the third (and greatest) Die Hard movie where Jeremy Irons blackmails Bruce Willis into walking around 125th street wearing a sign that says “I hate n____s” and a Harlem resident sees Bruce Willis wearing the sign and screams out “what the fuck?” Well that’s pretty much the reaction Rickey had a few weeks ago when he saw this picture blow (minus the racial overtones, of course).


So all together now Mets fans: What. The. Fuck. What kind of jackass does something like this? Ok, we get it, you’re a Yanks fan who is evidently quite proud to be an American, but does that really necessitate a vanity plate that reads “H8METS”? Does it? Survey says 'no,' you worthless troglodyte. Hm, Rickey wonders how this person feels about David Wright and Carlos Beltran being handed Gold Glove awards yesterday… Also, judging by the U.S. flag sticker, Rickey is putting the odds at 10:1 that this fuckhead voted Republican in 2004. In our experience, we find that being an asshole Yanks fan often coincides with being an asshole Republican.

Maybe we’re making a bigger deal of this than it really is. Maybe Rickey needs to take anger management classes. Whatever. The person who owns this car is quite possibly the biggest prick we’ve ever encountered and Rickey intends to seek revenge the way he best knows how: in blog form. Because ridiculing faceless strangers online is not only cathartic—it’s essentially what the Internet was created for in the first place.

First some background: the picture was taken a few nights ago just one block down from Rickey’s apartment. Yep, this asshole lives practically next door to Rickey. Like Ahab hunting the white whale, Rickey had furtively searched his neighborhood, waiting for the car’s reappearance so he could take photographic evidence of this asshole’s sheer assholitude. Local neighborhood maps riddled with red pins and concentric circles were posted on the walls of the apartment. For reasons we can't quite explain, Rickey even started referring to the living room as the "War Room." Determination paid off when finally, on Monday night, the nefarious Jeep Wrangler reappeared and Rickey ventured out to take the photo under cover of darkness.

We apologize for the slightly blurry nature of the image, but it’s difficult to hold a camera steady when your significant other is yelling Somone’s coming! Get back in the car!” Look, Rickey needed a wheelman for the job, and Ms. Henderson was as good a candidate as any—sorry to make you an accomplice sweetie. Until Monday night, Rickey had been unaware that NYS license plates have some kind of reflective coating that prevents flash photographs. So the getaway vehicle had to be pulled up behind this prick’s jeep to ensure proper lighting.

We realize that by posting this image, Rickey is venturing into murky legal waters. If one of Rickey’s lawyer buddies (of which he has roughly a bazillion) could let us know whether it’s legal to post photographs of New York State license plates on the Internet, that would be awesome. A simple “dude… posting pictures of licence plates… for personal amusement… within city limits… that ain’t legal dude” would suffice.

And now comes the hard part: deciding what to do about the fact that, for all intensive purposes, the sportsfan equivalent of Hitler lives a few doors down from Rickey. Currently, as we see it, our options range from:

A) Just letting it go

to

B) Knocking on this schmuck’s door, and stating “Hello, my name is Rickey and I'll be relentlessly kicking you in the genitals this evening while your wife and children look on in horror.”

We could go either way really. Rickey assumes the driver of this vehicle is a guy primarily because we’re not ready to accept the possibility that a member of the fairer sex is capable of being this much of a complete asshole. But to avoid being labeled sexist, we’ll admit that the possibility, however slim, does indeed exist. Nice car by the way cocksucker. Your Regan era Jeep Wrangler is undoubtedly the envy of 80’s high school students everywhere.

Rickey will keep you posted vis a vis what he decides to do. Frankly, we're of the mind that action must be taken, but if you feel like trying to convince Rickey to cease construction on the war crimes tribunal shack he plans on using on this fucker, you're welcome to do so in the comments section below.

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Tuesday, November 6, 2007

We Don't Mean to Alarm You, But Sean Combs Might Kill You if You Don't Vote Today

Just in case you were unaware, today, November 6th, is election day. More importantly, today is also a federal holiday, so Rickey gets to stay home from work and be a magnificently lazy bastard. Other than returning some videos and moseying on down to the local polling station, Rickey has very little on the docket for a rainy Tuesday. Best of all, the polling station resides right around the corner from Rickey's apartment, thereby providing Rickey with the enticing option of strolling into a Baptist Church to cast his vote wearing a bathrobe.

(And speaking of Baptists, can someone please explain to us what the deal is with the Mazda SUV commercial featuring a gospel choir singing jubilantly around it? We've heard of demographic marketing, but this is a little excessive, no? Can Rickey own one? Seriously, Rickey isn't even sure if he's allowed to test drive one of these cars without being required to pay reparations of some sort.)

Ahem. Anyway, ultimately Rickey doesn't have much in the way of advice to give you this election day other than go vote. Or don't if you're not feeling like it. Just don't come complaining to Rickey when your local county clerk seriously loses his shit and absconds to Hawaii with $50,000 of taxpayer money and a small marmot named Oscar. You, the individual voter, will have dropped the ball on that one, not Rickey. So go cast your ballot--it grants you the freedom to bitch and whine about politics.

Still in need of further election day guidance? Well then, proceed hither to read up on the party affiliations of some of your favorite superheroes. Because reading up on how Captain America is actually a Truman Democrat is well worth the mouse click.

Finally, for all those of you like Rickey searching for a way to turn election day into a drinking game, Wonkette has your needs covered.

Enjoy election day folks, and be proud of the fact that you live in America, a country in which, according to Lee Greenwood, "At you know you're free." So really, as Mr. Greenwood so masterfully reminds us, it could always be worse. You could be free and not even know it.

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Monday, November 5, 2007

In Which Rickey Uses the Internets to Spy on People

*Rule #101 of of blogging: no matter how big or important your snarky blog may have become, posting a picture of a lolcat is necessary from time to time. Respect the lolcat--it's the blogging equivalent of bread & circuses.

Hey kids, you know what’s fun? Using the internet to unabashedly spy on people. And thanks to the wonderful folks at Sitemeter, Rickey can do percisely that. No, we’re not talking about anything sketchy, so have no fear; Rickey isn’t hiding in the bushes outside your house with high powered binoculars or anything like that. Instead, we just like to periodically check up on exactly how people find their way to this website. The most intriguing of these ways is to look at specific key word searches that led folks right here to RwR.

Here’s how it works. Let’s say this site contained the use of the phrase or words “roaming monkey death squad” (it does). A keyword search in Google or Yahoo would yield this site as a possible match for one’s query. And like a moth to flame, a visitor would find themselves inexplicably drawn to this fierce playground of irreverence. Unfortunately, the people at Sitemeter only let us look back at the 100 most recent hits, so that means it only goes back a day or so. However, within those 100 referrals are some interesting keyword searches.

And now, for the first time ever, Rickey is sharing this proprietary information with you in the hope of: a) giving you a peek behind at the wizard behind the curtain, and b) pimping his previous writings. How very meta. So come along as we take a peek at the manner in which wayward souls find themselves stumbling upon Rickey's site. First, the image searches:

Someone searching for an image of Giada Laurentiis (hot, hot, hot… This did not prevent Rickey from deriding her food making abilities however.)

Someone searching for an image of Larry David (Every now and then we like to post a picture of him to remind folks how perfect he’d be for the role of The Vulture in Spiderman 4).

And now the keyword searches from Google and Yahoo:

  • chicken tender buffalo wings (And damned tasty ones too—we hope they tried Rickey’s recipe)

  • rickey henderson facts (Well, duh.)

  • mets emblem pumpkin (Ya think the guy is pissed we didn’t have instructions on how to carve a Mets themed pumpkin? Hm, now that we think about it, so are we.)

  • kyle brandt sky mall (Yeah, no clue. That one is just odd.)

  • endy chavez drag bunt (We’re the first site to pop up for that search. Awesome. Endy takes way too much shit from Mets fans.)

  • "He is Vigo" "Like the buzzing of flies" (Damn, that one takes us back.)

  • shawn green batting cage (Uh what? Was someone really looking for the same batting cage that Greenie uses?)

  • the bloody mary airplane (You know, we'd always wondered what the antithesis of Virgin Airlines would be...)

  • "Dick Cheney" "The New Yorker" "Jack-o-lantern" (Evidently they were searching for that recent New Yorker cover.)

  • Mets Brick Fanwalk (Try as you might, your inscription will never be as snarky as Rickey’s.)

And now on to the more puzzling and frightening search keywords:

  • naked riding cult horse (Pardon?)

  • Masturbatorium Gulag (What. The. Fuck. Well, if you’re going to end up in a gulag, we guess that one featuring a masturbatorium is probably the way to go.)

And finally, here’s the icing on the cake:

  • "Dorky Volvo" (This website is in the third goddamned page of results that pops up. And frankly, that’s far too close for comfort. This fucking stings. Evidently RwR is your one stop shop for all things tragically unhip about the Sweedish automotive industry. See, this why Rickey is saving up for a new car. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.)

And on that note, that concludes this installment. Rickey will make a habit of sharing this info with you from time to time because, well, it makes him giggle.

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Saturday, November 3, 2007

Finger Jousting Update #1

In the interest of impartiality, we feel compelled to share the following email with you. Rickey has few rules in life, but one of them is that whenever he receives an email with anyone entitled "The Lord of the Joust," that email must be shared with others. So, in the interests of impartiality, below is the email Rickey received concerning his recent expose on the underground world of finger jousting. Never let it be said that Rickey is not a fair & balanced blogger. Read on:

Dear Rickey Henderson:

I read your article, and it was pretty typical of the
kind I often see in blogs: slightly humorous and derisive. I was really
hoping for your article to be a good positive article like the kind more
often found in newspapers on us, because I was looking forward to adding
it to the media section of the website. Sadly, it wasn't as I thought it
would be. Usually, I spend a good deal of time writing witty
replies-like line-item vetoes-and drafting all sorts of rhetorical
devices to slay the opposing writers with literary might. However, yours
wasn't really offensive enough to start bringing up personal
achievements like the class presidency, air force auxiliary, full
scholarships, sports achievements, government work, etc; and your
writing was actually quite fluid. Your insult of my picture was a rather
low blow, but that is to be expected with a picture that looks like
that. However, I have to have one with that background with that pose,
and you should have seen how bad the other one was. I'm pretty tired
from a high school football game, and I've got to work on some AP
Calculus before wrestling practice tomorrow, so I won't try to write
anymore, and I don't really care about maintaining a professional tone
as with the majority of the emails I send. Congratulations on your
article, and I hope you manage to get a large amount of readers. I do
wish that it was more positive, so I could have helped your blog spread
with as much assistance as I could offer just like we try to help out
with charities like the Muscular Dystrophy Association and Children's
Miracle Network with what little funds this project makes. Thank you for
your time, and may the joust be with you!

Cordially,
Julian R. Gluck
The Lord of the Joust
President of the WFJF
www.FingerJoust.com

Thoughts? Well he's a bright young kid to say the least, but frankly all the boasting about his high school achievements kind of rubbed Rickey the wrong way. And Rickey doesn't enjoy being rubbed the wrong way. Moreover, we get the feeling that this is no more than a form letter that Julian Gluck has felt necessary to email out many, many times. Rickey knew many kids like you in his salad days Mr. Gluck, and rest assured, each and every one of them was deserving of repeated kicks to the genital region. To reiterate: your various accolades, while impressive, will always play second fiddle to the fact that you are known in certain circles as "The Lord of the Joust." Have fun living that down Mr Gluck, and be sure to call us when you've cured cancer. Until then, keep on pointing for that dream.

And for all those wanting to wish Mr. Gluck the best in all future endeavors, his email address is:

LordoftheJoust@NAMBLA.org
LordoftheJoust@fingerjoust.com

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Thursday, November 1, 2007

This Week in Completely Superfluous Sports

So you thought the world of competitive arm wrestling Sylvester Stallone masterfully depicted in “Over the Top” was the most ridiculous non-sport in existence? Well, think again. Thanks to the folks at Deadspin, Rickey has stumbled on to something far more unintentionally hilarious. Rickey proudly presents: finger jousting, a “sport” (and we use that term as loosely as possible) that is apparently so challenging, artful, demanding of physical prowess, and contest-worthy that it necessitated the establishment of an entity known as the World Finger Jousting Federation. (That’s the WFJF, for those in the know). We’ll give you a moment to check out their website and let all this sink in while Rickey grabs a glass of water and warms up region of his brain which governs his derriding abilities.

Ahhhhhh, and we’re back. You see, Rickey is a fan of Beirut. That's because if Rickey is going to play a silly game, he prefers that it includes drinking. Hardcore drinking. Remove the alcohol from the equation and you’re left with a goofy non-sport. And that leads us to finger jousting, quite possibly the oddest and most unnecessary sport ever devised by mankind. The whole operation is run by a misbegotten madman named Julian Gluck, President of the WFJF and “Lord of the Joust,” (a title guaranteed to make him a sure fire hit with the ladies). Take a peek at his picture below.

He’s like a young Bud Selig, only more asexual, if that’s even possible. If any of Rickey's buddies are reading this, Rickey is pretty sure that's Jeremy Strifler pictured above.

Anyway, how does this sport work you might ask? Picture the classic arcade game Joust featuring sexually confused teenagers rather than the standard ostriches and knights and you’re on the right track. The rules, written without any hint of irony, follow below:

"Finger jousting is a sport where two consenting players [*editors note: because non-consensual finger jousting is an entirely different kind of sport] square off in an attempt to prod their opponent with their lancing (right) index finger before the opposing player can. The competitors must keep their right hands locked in an arm wrestling fashion and not use are known as jousters, and the act of touching the other person’s body with the index finger is known as lancing. A player can lance anywhere except the lancing (right) arm. There are two different yet related forms of finger jousting. One is quick play and the other is point play. Quick play is typically used for leisurely matches and when time is short. Point play is used mostly in tournaments and practices for tournaments.

Traditionally, there are four equally important elements that form the basic skills of finger jousting. They are quickness, strength, technique, and tradition. A jouster who is skilled in each quadrant will be a well rounded player. Most of the time a jouster can not rely on one quadrant, though some competitors who are exceptional in one quadrant can be amazing finger jousters. The four quadrants were religiously taught in the past, but are slowly being replaced by the five elements of victory (EOVs). We at the WFJF still value the four quadrants for their historical significance from the Book of Phalanges and regard them as a fundamental part of finger jousting."

So if we’re reading this correctly, the folks at WFJF have combined the quasi sport of fencing with quasi sport of rock-paper-scissors to create the ultimate hybrid non-sport for geeks. What, Magic: The Gathering wasn’t socially marginalizing enough for these people? Bravo gentlemen—you’ve secured yourselves a lifetime guaranteed to be spent without any bothersome female interaction. Oh, and assuming that you somehow manage to actually survive high school, Rickey strongly advises against mentioning this finger jousting endeavor during job interviews later on in life.

For comedic purposes, we’d say that we’re eagerly looking forward to watching this sport on ESPN8 (the Ocho!) but frankly, if coverage of this were to make to merely local access tv, a scandal would break out that would eclipse the Jason Blair debacle. Much like the Darfur story, the world is simply not ready to accept the existence of things like this. But does that stop these folks from taking themselves seriously? No it does not. If you peruse the rules carefully, there’s actually a section entitled “Appendix A: Performance Enhancing Drugs.” We shit you not.

Rickey will give this finger jousting thing this much, they’ve got a well-oiled P.R. campaign. Witness this press release: “Along with having its first official member outside of the United States, the WFJF has also seen a rise in minority official memberships recently. This chain of events has been beneficial to the WFJF and the federation's aim of diversification and mass appeal.” Doing some demographic targeting already, huh? Rickey recommends learning how to walk before your run. Or point. Or whatever it is that you quasi athletes do.

And now onwards to the Finger Jousting Code of Conduct! Below are the strict guidelines laid forth by the WFJF that all finger jousters are expected to adhere to:

Respect - Always honor the outcome of a match. Without personal integrity the WFJF would cease to exist. Respect also includes not intentionally aiming for the groin. (What, did rampant groin poking occur during a match? Who does that?)

Decorum - Do not use profane or lewd speech before, during, or after the match. Remember every time a member jousts, he/she is acting as an ambassador of the WFJF. (Right, because it’s important that the folks watching you do this in a mall in LaGrange, Georgia not get the wrong impression about the world of finger jousting)

Indisturbance - Avoid disquieting surrounding bystanders and inanimate objects while leisure jousting. Do not engage in finger jousting matches at inappropriate settings or during inappropriate times. (So you’re suggesting that there’s actually an appropriate time or setting for this sort of behavior? And since when is "indisturbance" a real word?)

Manicure - Taking care of your fingernails is a sign of respect for your opponent and shows an interest in maintaining a healthy body. The diagrams below may be clicked on to show larger versions. (Sorry, but we’re not linking to any diagrams for fear that they would contain pictures of 7th Grade puberty manuals entitled “So Your Body is Changing”)

And if the above descriptions didn’t scare the bejesus out of you parents out there and send you running to your child’s room to frantically search for evidence of an underground finger jousting ring, there’s more. So much more. We think the pictures below speak for themselves.

You think these kids have any idea how much this is going to cost their parents in therapy bills? Is this how teenagers go insane? By waking up one morning and saying "hey, you know what's missing from my life? A color coordinated spandex outfit and a dude to wrestle with in the weirdest manner possible"?

Rickey would love to figure out a way to wager on finger jousting matches (for example, the over/under on "number of public weeping occurrences and other socially awkward moments during a tournament") but we kind of doubt there are many bookies out there who would take that kind of action. If the "sport" of finger jousting becomes the next Pokémon craze, Rickey is absolutely moving to Canada. Because trust us, this finger jousting thing will seem much less funny when the Grand Inquisitors of the Cult of the WFJF are burning heretics like Rickey in cages.

Now if you’ll excuse Rickey, he needs to make a phone call to his fraternity recommending that all future Phi Delt pledges be required to finger joust. No more alumni donations from Rickey until his demmands are met.

[Yep, Rickey has discovered that videos can be embedded on this site. We promise to try to use this newly found power for good. Enjoy.]

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