Enjoy the holiday folks. Rickey will be back at your service in the year 2008. Now go make with the merriment and whatnot. You know, like this fellow:
*Pedarests are hilarious.
Yesterday, Rickey decided to type in a Google query for “Rickey Henderson,” and he noticed that this site popped up as the fourth result after the Wiki page, the MLB page, and the Baseball-Reference page. This of course made us wonder: will Rickey's star ever stop rising?
Not to toot our own horn, but we actually came in AHEAD of the ESPN statistics page for Rickey. Gadzooks, we’re beating the self proclaimed “World Wide Leader in Sports”! And even better, we know remarkably little about professional sports! (Seriously gang, Alyssa Milano’s Dodgers Blog is a more reliable source of baseball commentary than this site). Nonetheless, from all early indications, 2007 appears to have been a rather good first year for us here at RwR. Possibly too good.
See, the real life Rickey Henderson does seem like the kind of self absorbed fellow who would Google his own name for fun… What if Rickey were to stumble upon this site? Would he be flattered? We’re guessing he’d wonder what a bellicose white guy with a blossoming drinking problem was hoping to gain by impersonating him. And then he’d demand his cut of the revenue (of which there is none).
So before a mob of angry lawyers shuts us down, we figured we’d have a little more fun at Rickey’s expense. You know, really fly this plane into the mountain. Thanks for the folks at JibJab, we’ve come up with the perfect holiday message from Rickey. Behold, Rickey Henderson stars in “It’s a Wonderful Life!”
In keeping with the recent theme of things around here, Rickey would now like to delve into the musical aspect of Christmas. We don't know about you, but Rickey would sooner nail his penis to a structure fire than listen to Mariah Carey's rendition of "All I want for Christmas is You" one more time. But hey, that's just us. So here are some of Rickey's picks for a well rounded X-mas playlist. Those considering themselves to be festive hosts will pay attention to the following selections very carefully.
To kick things off, one of Rickey's absolute favorite Christmas songs is Tom Waits' fantastic "Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis". Like any other Tom Waits song, it's gravelly, soulful, and about the less fortunate.
On the other end of the spectrum is "Christmas Time (Don't Let The Bells End)" by The Darkness. This is essentially a balls out rock opera Christmas song. And it's a perfect accompaniment to your holiday binge drinking. Rickey strongly recommends this song as well.
Remember listening to those Adam Sandler comedy albums in the 9th grade? No? Was that just Rickey? Well fuck us in the goatass then. Anyway, Norm McDonald turned in his own comedy album recently. Check out Norm's take on "The Twelve Days of Christmas" sometime. It's pretty damned funny, and we get the feeling that poor Norm needs the money.
Look, you need an old timey cheesy generic Christmas song to throw into your playlist, right? So why not go with Johnny Cash's take on "Blue Christmas"? It's perfect for when Marty McFly travels back to the year 1955 and attends the Enchantment Under the Sea!
The Eels have a fun little ditty entitled "Christmas is Going to the Dogs." 50% of Eels songs are jubilant, and the other 50% are great for slitting your wrists in a bathtub to. This song falls into that first category. Definitely look it up sometime. Woof, woof, you inglorious bastids.
For cringe value alone, absolutely nothing beats Neil Diamond's "You Make it Feel Like Christmas". Ever wondered what the godfather of unabashed sentimentality would sound like on his very own Christmas album? Wonder no longer! Behold, massively maudlin lyrics:
Lovers in love,
Yeah that's what we'll be!
I reach for that star out there in space
'Cause you make it feel like Christmassssssssss!
Curious what Christmas is like over on the
Left East Coast? Well then, The Raveonettes' "The Christmas Song" is totally for you. Yep, that's from The O.C. Christmas album (welcome to the O.C., bitch). Holiday surfing rhythms abound after the jump!
And then there's Al Green's "What Christmas Means to Me." We like a holiday song that cuts straight to the chase. Sure, Sinatra's rendition of "Let it Snow" coyly hints at it, but we tip our caps to Al Green for clearing up any possible confusion: Christmas is all about the fucking. Indeed, let's get it on baby.
Eartha Kitt's "Santa Baby" is a fabulous feminist addition to your x-mas festivities. Watch your male guests' testicles retreat into their abdomens as this incredibly emasculating Christmas ditty blasts out your speakers!
Rickey really enjoys playing "2000 Miles" by the Pretenders during the holidays.. There's talk of snow, missing a loved one, and an arduous trek home. Call him sentimental, but Rickey loves that sort of thing. Screw you cynical schmucks--it's a very touching song.
The Who turn in a nifty little song fittingly entitled "Christmas" which Rickey also enjoys an awful lot. Although there's a lot of talk directed to some "Tommy" person whose identity we're not entirely certain of...
And there you have it, those are Rickey's recommendations for a solid Christmas playlist. Discuss.
Is it just Rickey or does the practice of decorating a Christmas tree seem a little gay to anyone? And no, we don’t mean that in a derogatory way or anything, it’s just that the nancing around a tree and festooning it with shiny objects just seems a little… gay. That’s all we’re saying. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And not that Rickey is above reproach on the issue (Rickey watches “Pushing Daisies,” for christsakes…)
See, when it comes time to break out the glittery tree ornaments and flamboyant lights, Rickey transforms into quite the raging homosexual. But that’s ok, because as far as we can tell, that’s what the whole holiday spirit is all about… Going gonzo for garland.
Correct us if we’re mistaken, but Christmas wasn’t always a sparkly frivolous holiday. According to the original version of the Christmas fable, Santa Claus was essentially a winged demon who terrorized Serbian Villagers by sneaking down their chimneys and then proceeding to rape, steal, and generally terrorize Baltic townspeople. Kind of like Cthulhu. If we remember correctly, he kind of looked like this:
*Note: your recollection of Christmas lore may differ slightly from Rickey’s.
And then somehow, religious institutions and various corporations got their hands on the holiday and transformed it into what it is today: sparkly, jubilant, and absolutely fabulous. Call us crazy, but we kind of like the old timey version a little better—it added a bit of excitement to the month of December.
But lest you mistake Rickey for a Grinch, we can assure you that despite Rickey’s occasional rants, he does rather enjoy the Christmas holiday in it’s current iteration. Yep, we’re big hypocrites like that. What happens is that Rickey starts off the month of December being completely uninterested in Christmas, but then, kind of like in "Highlander," he consumes the festivity of others in order to get into the holiday spirit. And then before we even know it, Rickey inexplicably finds himself making sweet sweet love to a Douglas Fir.
Anyhow, in case you were interested, behold, Rickey’s remarkably non-heterosexual Christmas tree!
Huzzah for Snowflake Ornaments!
And look, balls!
We said to ourselves: you know what this tree needs? A fucking dragonfly, that’s what!
And a glittery butterfly! Look for a unicorn next year!
And penguins! Gay penguins! You know, the kind that James Dobson warned us about!
And last but certainly not least:
Rickey is in the process of wrapping up 2007 and gearing up for a fantastic new year of blogging that some of you will hopefully tag along for …assuming all the talk of beards, alcohol consumption, and ellipses haven’t scared everyone away. But first, some holiday housekeeping. Over the past few weeks Rickey has been closely monitoring the specific key word searches that lead poor unsuspecting fools to RwR. Here are a few that caught Rickey’s eye:
mark messier nude (hold the phone just a second there…)
healthy buffalo tenders (yeah, ours? Not so much…)
man beard (shit yes, we’re like #9!)
martha and charles logan fanfiction (Rickey only writes BSG fanfiction thank you very much)
yul bryner leather gloves (apparently someone’s going for the creepiness hat trick)
ms henderson dolls (Hello, merchandizing! Ok, sweetie, time to start sewing. Rickey needs more web revenue.)
growing beard stimulating (well if by “stimulating” you mean alienating to loved ones, then yes it is)
rickey Schroeder (apparently misspelling his name takes you here. Huh.)
why does my sled always run on one cylinder when warmed up (how the shit would Rickey know?)
"Fabulous goatee" (indeed)
Ladies of the Masturbatorium (it’s like Playboy’s “Women of the Big 10,” but for psychopaths!)
What? We’re a week away from Christmas and Rickey, his head swirling with visions of sugar plums, elves, and angry creditors, is absolutely entitled to mail it in from time to time. Look for a post tomorrow showcasing Rickey's fabulously festive Christmas tree (of doom).
We figure that it's poor form to run a caption contest without crowning someone a victor, so here go you. For the picture below, here's the winning caption:
"I don't care how you do it. Get that Pinocchio kid off of my dick. I'm getting splinters."
It's comforting to know that we here at RwR can always rely upon the vulgarity of strangers. Also, that quote totally reminds us of this. Enjoy the weekend gang. Rickey will return on Monday.
Lest you folks think that we’re not completely on board with this whole Christmas thing, there is one aspect of the holidays that Rickey is totally psyched for: egg nog. Rickey fucking loves egg nog. We cannot stress this enough. Rickey. Loves. Egg nog. Rickey could spend the duration of the holidays in the bathtub drinking egg nog and he’d be happy as a clam.
Ah heavenly egg nog. What we’re trying to say is that egg nog is totally delicious, and in no small part because it is also incredibly bad for you. Take a peek at these staggering nutriton facts. Holy shit, indeed. A four ounce serving of egg nog contains 230 calories and 7 grams of saturated fat (36% of your recommended daily intake). And that’s only four ounces… a mere half cup. Indeed, egg nog is one of those wondrous drinks that you can sip in front of a mirror and actually watch yourself gain weight. Seriously, last Christmas, Rickey was pretty sure he experienced chest pains after drinking several glasses of egg nog. (We blame the nutmeg however).
If last year was any indication of things to come, Rickey will probably consume an entire gallon of egg nog over the course of this Christmas holiday. Sweet fancy Moses, that's 128 fluid ounces....
Ok, for dignity's sake, let’s round down and assume that Rickey only consumes a mere 100 ounces of egg nog. By our math, that would still compute to 5,750 calories and 175 grams of saturated fat from drinking egg nog alone. And that’s not even counting the rest of the Christmas food that Rickey will eat this year. Or the alcohol that goes into the egg nog…
Bourbon & nutmeg? Oh fuck yes please.
You know what? For a variety of reasons, Rickey is rather grumpy today and doesn’t feel like attempting to be humorous. Or at least not “funny, ha ha” in the conventional sense (Rickey makes a point of effortlessly maintaining a wry comedic sensibility at all times). So let’s see you inglorious bastards give this whole “being funny” shtick a shot. Indeed, Rickey is challenging you, the reader, to put up your comedic dukes and think of an appropriately funny caption to a photo of Rickey’s choosing.
We’ll kick this off with a holiday-themed one:
Think up a witty little caption and leave it in the comments section below. Rickey will select the winning caption (there will be no voting on the matter) and mail the winner an assortment of smoked fish and black licorice. Or something equally fabulous.
As the Baseball Winter Meetings come to a close with a no notable additions to the Met roster, Rickey would like to applaud Omar Minaya’s bold new vision for the New York Mets: “sitting tight.” Why should the Metropolitans get all bent out of shape trying to acquire a snazzy ace starting pitcher when they’ve already got:
Pedro Martinez [injury prone]
El Duque [injury prone]
Oliver Perez [meltdown prone]
Mike Pelfrey [pacifier prone]
John Maine [cross dressing prone]
That’s a solid pitching lineup, yes? So what if your ace starting pitcher’s arm may physically detach from his body and sail over home plate? Seasoned veteran Johnny Estrada and/or Brian Schneider will be there to catch it! Argh, just freaking shoot us now, would you please? So far, the offseason has not been kind to a team’s fans that are giving serious consideration to purchasing the following t-shirt:
But hey, it could always be worse. Right now, the Steinbrenners could be running your baseball franchise (is it just Rickey, or do Hank Steinbrenner’s recent antics remind anyone of that old Onion Article: “Asshole Father Proud of Asshole Son”?) In search of further levity to help you Mets fans endure recent hot stove developments, Rickey presents you with the 14 Most Offbeat Clauses in Baseball Contracts. Our personal favorite:
Rollie Fingers, Oakland Athletics
"Former A’s owner Charlie Finley never thought of a gimmick he wouldn’t try, including a mechanical rabbit that delivered fresh balls to the umpire and hiring a 13-year-old MC Hammer as his “Executive V.P.” In 1972, Finley offered his players cash for growing a mustache by Father’s Day, thereby giving birth to reliever Fingers’ trademark handlebar ‘stache. The A’s went on to win the World Series that season, and Fingers’ contract for 1973 contained a $300 bonus for growing the mustache as well as $100 for the purchase of mustache wax."
And on a final note, tomorrow is Rickey’s birthday. Against our better judgment, Rickey will be turning the ripe old age of 28. We know, you’re probably saying to yourself, “Wait a second, Rickey Henderson was born on December 25, 1958. Something is clearly amiss here. All this time I legitimately believed I was reading a blog written by the greatest base stealer of all time… You sir, have duped me!” Well, um, yeah, about that….
Hey look kids; you too can achieve peace of mind by securing your very own spot in heaven! Rickey always suspected that Heaven was essentially a country club, and now we’ve got concrete evidence to back it up. It’s the thrilling new website: Reserve a Spot in Heaven (dot com). Behold, a flowchart explaining the whole process:
If we’re reading this colorful diagram correctly, they’re essentially a friendly intermediary/banker between you and God. Mmmm, now that’s good sacrilege. Aren’t you comforted to know that you can continue living a sin filled life and simply buy your way into that heavenly firmament in the sky?
And as far as we can tell, this thing is legit (albeit very tongue-in-cheek). They’re taking payment via Visa, Mastercard, and PayPal. Rickey even found a link on PayPal’s website where the site owner is asking for some technical support. Um, sorry buddy, but Rickey kind of doubts that the help desk people over there can tell you whether or not St. Peter will accept PayPal.
Rickey enjoys this site because it’s wonderfully blasphemous and self aware of it (we hope) and is certain to rile up all the Christian nut jobs out there. We give this site about another week before Pat Robertson is on his soapbox calling for the Better Business Bureau to shut it down. Therefore, Rickey recommends that you go ahead and spend the $24.95 on your very own V.I.P. Pass to the Land of Milk & Honey. It’ll rile up the religious jackass demographic, and hey, it’s infinitely better than an eternity of endless suffering in the fiery abyss.
Best. Christmas Gift. Ever.
There are several basic varieties of schmucks in the world. For example, there’s the kind of schmuck who insists on announcing his presence in the men’s room by aiming directly for the urinal cake, making a much more audible noise than his neighbors in hopes of reaffirming his masculinity. This of course causes splash damage which is most likely why these schmucks always wear black pants (Rickey's more of a khaki man himself). Then there’s the kind of schmuck who insists on driving at night with both his regular lights and his fog lights turned on for no explicable reason whatever. Then there's the sort of schmuck who steals people's forks from the staff kitchen sink (by Rickey's count, that fucker has collected nearly an entire Lennox flatware set by now). And finally, there’s the penultimate schmuck: the schmuck who recommends things to people sight unseen.
Here at RwR, we don’t do that sort of thing. And we’re proud to say that we only do one of the three previously mentioned items. (Look, Rickey happens to think that a Saab 9.3 looks freaking awesome with the headlamps and fog lights on. We know, we're jackasses, and we're trying to get it under control. Recently, Rickey's even taken to wearing driving gloves as well as a leather coat and scarf. And now Rickey's shopping for aviator sunglasses. Yeah we have no idea what the fuck is going on... clearly this new car thing has gotten the better of Rickey). Ahem. Anyway, like we were saying, we may be schmucks, but we don't recommend things sight unseen. We like to try things out and weigh their merits before passing them along to you.
And it is that meticulous search for excellence which allows Rickey to recommend that you purchase the soundtrack to Todd Haynes’ Bob Dylan biopic “I’m Not There” as soon as humanly possibly. But don't take our word for it: you can listen to the complete album here.
Ironically enough, there’s only one song that Bob Dylan actually performs on this sprawling two disc album. The rest are all covers of Dylan’s songs, most of which we’re very happy to report are pretty damned good. It takes big spiky balls to cover a Bob Dylan song: try to imitate him and you reduce yourself to being a singer in a Dylan cover band. Visa versa, if you attempt to radically reinterpret one of his songs, you risk diluting the message and losing the edge of the original Dylan version of the song. So over the course of musical history, only a handful of musicians have managed to cover Bob Dylan without sounding like they’re doing bad karaoke imitations of Dylan. (Rickey still gets shivers thinking about that awful Dave Matthews Band rendition of “All Along the Watchtower”). But have no fear, there’s some actual music playing ability going on in this album. Here’s the track listing:
1. All Along The Watchtower - Eddie Vedder and The Million Dollar Basher
2. I'm Not There - Sonic Youth
3. Goin' To Acapulco - Jim James/Calexico
4. Tombstone Blues - Richie Havens
5. Ballad Of A Thin Man - Stephen Malkmus and The Million Dollar Bashers
6. Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again - Cat Power
7. Pressing On - John Doe
8. Fourth Time Around - Yo La Tengo
9. Dark Eyes - Iron & Wine/Calexico
10. Highway 61 Revisited - Karen O and The Million Dollar Bashers
11. One More Cup Of Coffee - Roger McGuinn/Calexico
12. Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll, The - Mason Jennings
13. Billy 1 - Los Lobos
14. Simple Twist Of Fate - Jeff Tweedy
15. Man In The Long Black Coat, The - Mark Lanegan
16. Senor (Tales Of Yankee Power) - Willie Nelson/Calexico
1. As I Went Out One Morning - Mira Billotte
2. Can't Leave Her Behind - Stephen Malkmus/Lee Ranaldo
3. Ring Them Bells - Sufjan Stevens
4. Just Like A Woman - Charlotte Gainsbourg
5. Mama You've Been On My Mind - Jack Johnson
6. I Wanna Be Your Lover - Yo La Tengo
7. You Ain't Goin Nowhere - Glen Hansard/Marketa Irglova
8. Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window? - The Hold Steady
9. Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues - Ramblin' Jack Elliott
10. Wicked Messenger - The Black Keys
11. Cold Iron Bound - Tom Verlaine and The Million Dollar Bashers
12. Times They Are A Changin', The - Mason Jennings
13. Maggie's Farm - Stephen Malkmus and The Million Dollar Bashers
14. When The Ship Comes In - Marcus Carl Franklin
15. Moonshiner - Bob Forrest
16. I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine - John Doe
17. Knockin' On Heaven's Door - Antony and The Johnstons
18. I'm Not There - Bob Dylan
Rickey’s not the type to name drop, but in case you hadn't noticed, there’s a whole helluva lot of musical talent at work here. Much more than you’d find than in your average baby-boomer nostalgia vanity project, wethinks. But to really enjoy it, you’ve got to be curious. You need to ask yourself, what would “I Wanna Be Your Lover” sound like if Yo La Tengo performed it? How would Karen O take on “Highway 61 Revisited”? What would Cat Power do with “Stuck Inside a Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again”? If you’re that kind of curious musical fellow then proceed directly to your local musical retailer, because you’ll definitely get a kick out of this album.
Be warned however, we’re talking about 34 tracks here, so it’s not all gold. For example, the Eddie Vedder version of “All Along the Watchtower” is pretty “meh,” but we absolutely recommend listening to Sonic Youth’s brilliant interpretation of “I’m Not There.” But in the end, nothing beats strumming guitars and harmonica solos, and Rickey's current faves on the album would have to be Bob Forrest's folksy "Moonshiner," (which is reminiscent of Johnny Cash's later work) or Mason Jenning's folksy rendition of "The Times They Are A-Changin'". But that's just Rickey--trust us, there's something for everyone on this two disc set.
Younger folk singers like Sufjan Stevens and Jack Johnson sort of fumble the ball with two Dylan songs, but its fun to listen to the old timey crooners emerge from their primordial gopher holes who show punks like Johnson and Stevens how folk music should be done. We’re talking Ramblin' Jack Elliott, John Doe, Jim James, Roger McGuinn, and oh yes, Willie Nelson. They all turn in great renditions and even better, Calexico backs some of 'em up. That alone is worth the price of admission. Definitely pick up the album—it’s a great listen and wonderfully eclectic.
Now if only Rickey could find someone to actually see the freaking movie with... None of Rickey’s buddies have expressed any interest so far and Rickey has a strict policy concerning going to the movies alone (he refuses to do it).
In case you were unaware, Hanukkah commences tonight at sundown. So hello, obligatory holiday themed post. Rickey is sometimes accused of being a “self-loathing Jew,” which is odd, because
a) Technically, Rickey isn’t Jewish. And,
b) Rickey totally loves himself (hey, what’s not to love?)
And before you call Rickey a bigot for occasionally poking fun at Jews (specifically, Shawn Green) we’d like to point out that he does look rather Jewey, so everything is totally cool.
Rickey pokes fun at tribesmen/women because he takes issue with a whole laundry list of things: the Yenta Culture, the plain-jane holidays, the controlling of Hollywood, and the black pants. Not to mention those pesky horns. Perhaps we’d enjoy the holiday more if Rickey hadn’t received his fair share of crappy Hanukkah gifts as a kid: the savings bonds, the wooden tops, the 1986 commemorative coins, the Cross Pen sets... But that’s what we got. Not that Rickey’s a materialistic prick, but we just feel if you’re going to buy (or make) someone a gift, you damn well better put some thought & time into it. Otherwise, what’s the point? That’s the problem Hanukkah in its current form poses: it encourages a plethora of exceedingly crappy presents.
And don’t bother explaining the shtick about the magic lamp that stayed lit for eight days, because Rickey is well aware that the holiday was originally created to celebrate a military victory by the Jews over Hellenistic Civilization. And you know what? We kind of like Hellenistic Civilization. They gave us the Library of Alexandra, philosophy, mathematics, professional wrestling, and diners. Sorry gang, but Rickey has to side with the Greeks on this one. So pardon us if we’re not really on board with the whole Hanukkah thing at the moment. Some might argue that all this would provide a steep challenge for someone writing a Hanukkah themed post, but we’ll give it a shot the best we can.
Therefore, in no particular order, Rickey will list the things he enjoys about Hanukkah:
1) Latkes. Seriously, have you tried these things? They’re like kosher hash browns. And you have the option of putting either sour cream or applesauce on them. But not both. Never both.
2) Brisket. You know, tender, thin sliced, and hot out of the oven. Just like your Jewish grandmother used to make. Assuming your Jewish grandmother was hell-bent on slowly killing you with the fattiest meat known to mankind. But it certainly does taste good.
3) Kugel. We have no idea what Kugel is and we don’t care. It’s the fucking balls. By the way, are you noticing a trend here?
4) Chicken Livers. Yeah, we know, grossssssssss. Except they’re not, and you’re too much of a philistine to try ‘em.
5) Getting belligerently drunk on Manichewitz wine and attempting to answer the age old question of “how the fuck do you spell this ancient Khanukkah word?” before the night is out.
6) Gathering with family and friends for some much needed levity. Have you been to the mall lately? By Rickey’s count, there are about 75 million unhappy assholes running around right now, jockeying for prime parking spots in their humongous SUVs. Forget the Hanukkah ceremonies and the Maxwell House instructional pamphlets for a second. You’re meeting up as a group for some cheer and merriment. In our current day and age, that in itself is cause for celebration. It’s a mitzvah, people.
Rickey’s doing Hanukkah with Ms. Henderson’s family this Saturday evening (right after he picks up a Christmas tree) but has no idea how to properly celebrate the first few nights of the holiday. Therefore, Rickey will be inaugurating the first night of Hanukkah the only way he knows how: with massive gelt consumption and with a nonstop David Schwimmer movie marathon. We're talking all his best hits: from "The Pallbearer" to "Since You've Been Gone"!!!
And oh yes, gelt. What better way to enjoy The Festival of Lights than by eating candy that perpetuates Jewish stereotypes? Maybe we'll play some Monopoly later on in the evening and pull off the Jewish stereotype trifecta! (or "jewfecta," if you will). Furthermore, if we’re reading the Wall Street Journal correctly, the value of the U.S. Dollar has slid in recent years and is now extremely weak against gelt and other chocolate based forms of currency. (The greenback is trading like shit against the Mayan cocoa bean). Therefore, Rickey recommends gelt as the cornerstone of any strong investment portfolio*.
*h/t to Adam for the gelt/U.S. Dollar funny.
Against his better judgment, Rickey thought he’d wrap things up with a video of the latest addition to his apartment. Behold, Latke Larry! He sings! He dances! He kvetches! He kvells! Trust us, an animatronic Hanukkah doll voiced by Jerry Stiller gets old as quickly as you’d think it would. And this is why it will make for an excellent Hanukkah gift Saturday evening for some poor unsuspecting fool. Sing us out, Latke Larry!
Laugh, monkeys, laugh! (We're convinced that given adequate time and funding, the lolcat could solve world hunger). Anyhow, Rickey was overjoyed to awaken this morning to icy road conditions and traces of snow on the ground. And no, that’s not sarcasm—we feel that fishtailing builds character. And so winter unofficially begins. While watching NBC’s Today Show, Rickey was subjected to an Al Roker news segment concerning an upcoming snow storm in the Midwest that he described as a “Double Barrel Backdoor Storm Front.” Ok, we’re not meteorologists or anything, but that’s got to be a made up phrase, right? Is this one of the perks of being a weatherman? That you get to completely fabricate meteorological terms and get away with it? Look, clearly Al Roker has a very demanding life being the nation's most visible weatherman, writing brilliant missives on the quirks of life and barbecue, acting as poster boy for the wonders of gastric bypass surgery, and maintaining a high-concept website. But this does not entitle the Rokester to simply make up meteorological terms just because Mother Nature has gone batshit crazy in recent years. This is where we draw the line. Al Roker’s reign of terror must be stopped.
(And while we’re whining, why does Anne Curry still insist on wearing clothes?) Anyhow, Rickey promptly flipped off the TV after the mention of the mythical “Double Barrel Backdoor Storm Front,” enjoyed his morning coffee and proceeded to drive to work. We’re not entirely certain why, but ever since Rickey quit smoking, Rickey finds himself standing a lot when he should be sitting. Particularly when in his office and on the phone. We have no idea why, but if the phone rings, Rickey will answer it and proceed to take the call standing up. The only thing missing from this picture is someone polishing Rickey’s loafers while he conducts business. Is this an unforeseen side effect of Rickey’s smoking cessation medication, Chantix? We were fine with the uncontrollable flatulence and the frequent night terrors involving fiery cobras, but this whole standing up thing seems a little excessive.
Some of you newbies might not be aware, but once upon a time, this site did start off as a Mets blog. Then shit got weird. So we feel obliged to briefly discuss (read: rant about) the fact that Lastings Milledge is no longer a member of the New York Metropolitans. Yep, they traded Milledge. We know, you’re probably saying, “so he was part of a blockbuster deal for Johan Santana, right?” Well no, not exactly... In the first of Omar Minaya’s many attempts to wave the white flag on the 2008 season before it even begins, ‘Midge was traded for Ryan Church and Brian Schneider. Yep, Omar tossed away the Mets’ best trading chip for a mediocre catcher and a so-so outfielder. You thought the Kazmir for Zombrano trade was ridiculous? Wrong. This fucking stings (pun intended) even worse. The only way any of this could possibly make sense is if Schneider is secretly Dominican.
And just so you’re not caught unaware, Rickey is warning you Mets fans now: Livian Hernandez is next. We’d advise jumping ship now but if you’re still following the Mets after their epic September clusterfuck, frankly, you’re well beyond our help. (Not that Rickey is jumping ship or anything. Whenever possible Rickey encourages people to give up on the Mets, primarily because a bandwagon exodus in 2008 means that it's easier to find good seats at Shea).
One more item for you folks to mull over: absinthe is now totally legal in the U.S. Apparently it has been for a few months now. We just thought you’d like to know that… Thank you very much, U.S. Food and Drug Administration! Tainted meats & produce still continue to sneak undetected past your watchful eye, but a 150 proof alleged hallucinogen passes muster with flying colors! Evidently the Green Fairy Lobby is stronger than anyone had previously suspected. Also, did you know that during the Dreyfus Affair in France in the 1890s, when the French right wingers considered Jews a threat to their rule, absinthe was denounced as a “tool of the Jews.”? True story. Indeed, we make a point of being aware of our libational cultural heritage here at RwR. So really, absinthe would make a great addition to your upcoming Hanukkah festivities. Right next to your Ford Model T and Mickey Mouse figurines! Because he’s feeling downright jewtacular, Rickey will delve further into Hanukkah tomorrow with a post inaugurating the first night of The Festival of Lights. Consider yourselves adequately warned.