If I had my way, everyone would start their day watching this video. Or listening to this song. Graham and Damon are just wonderful in every way, on this one... though "Move Your Feet" certainly comes close. Regardless, one of my all-time faves, certain to be mentioned again before long.
From whence the title cometh? I had Starbucks this morning (networking event in the District-- suit and everything), and their Tall/Grande/Venti was better than their usual. I was pleasantly surprised, given my general rule of thumb concerning coffee: the pissier the place of origin, the better the coffee. Wawa? AM/PM? Dunkin' Donuts? Gas station on the side of I-95 at 4:00 a.m.? Bring. It. On. But gourmet coffee, or allegedly gourmet coffee? I'll pass, thanks.
But the thrust of this here thread title comes from my desire to speak about the T.O. thing. Enough, already. Blacks claim whites don't get it, whites claim blacks are making this into a Mandingo Cliche (!) unnecessarily... ENOUGH. It was needless, but it's behind us. If we're a strong enough nation to elect the right Presidential candidate, then surely we can get over this.
Uh... yeah. What's the deal with Affleck and Garner, again?
Watched my Eagles the other night lay the smack down on the Cowboys. And though Aikman, Smith and Irvin are gone (for the most part)... well, I still fancy me an old-fashioned Dallas ass-whippin'. How 'bout them Cowboys?!?
(And can someone tie Irvin' hands to the table? Enough already! Surprised with the level of insight he brings, frankly, but I can't hear half of it because his arms, hands and fingers are such a distraction. At least he wasn't wearing TJ's Rasberry Beretsuit from a few weeks back... even the Playmaker has his limits.)
Andy and I watched MNF together for the first time in over a decade-- and by the way, won't you please welcome this gentleman back into the States, after a 3-year stint in Turkey (and Afghanistan for three months)? Anyway, as T.O. transformed himself into Eric Heiden, Jesus Christ and then Kareem Abdul-Jabaar, respectively, we just laughed.
Sure, he's a prick. But he's our prick... and we Philadelphians are starving for a winner. We're willing to overlook the fact that he's got a higher on-field pulse than our beloved walrus-like coach. Who is starting to evolve, I think, but that's another character assassination for another time.
Haven't had Pringles in years. Maybe that should change.
Hoping my wife is well enough to go back to work tomorrow. She doesn't know I'm doing this, yet, and I keep thinking she's going to walk in and ask "WHY aren't you looking at porn like men left to themselves tend to do??? What is thi-- are you writing???"
I'll tell her at some point. For now, it's just an outlet, and a way to (possibly, theoretically) improve my writing. And tell you that Band Aid 20 is an abortion, put kindly.
Well, tonight, thank God it's them, instead of YOU.