The RSBSians have spoken!
And y’all told us to open that bag up.
So we did.
And here’s what we’ve won…
Oakley’s newest Blender shades are the perfect mix for active lifestyles. Lightweight C-5 alloy is combined with O-Matter earstems and sure-grip Unobtainium for unrivaled comfort and durability. Slide these on with confidence whether enjoying your Crown Royal on the mountain or by the beach!
Whoa! Hot dang! They had me at Unobtainium!
The Pass the Crown gift exchange will go on until December 15th. In that time, any one of the 17 remaining internet superstars can decide to steal our gift, in which case, we would get theirs, so stay tuned for any necessary updates.
Once our final prize is announced we will don one dear reader as the Ultimate RSBS Fan (must be 21 or older) and he/she will take home the goods! Remember to email us a picture showing why you are the Ultimate RSBS Fan to RSBSblog@gmail.com.
Jeff, Allen, Johanna & the Interns
Also, don’t forget: if you like the snazzy embroidery on the signature Crown Royal bag, make sure you check out how you can personalize your very own! They make fantastic gifts. In fact, RSBS is thinking of getting one for new Cubs President Theo Epstein that reads: Whiskey… for when watching the Cubs 162 times a year is your job.
Today is the day we humbled bloggers at RSBS get to share with you, dear readers, the clue to what our Pass the Crown gift from Crown Royal may be! Remember, in this gift swap among the interwebs’ finest, one of our lucky readers will be the beneficiary of whatever RSBS receives! So far an iPad 2 has been revealed as well as a private party for up to 40 people hosted by Crown Royal in your home market and an Omaha Steaks All-American Combo.
The clue to our gift is…
So now we need your help. We have until 4 p.m. ET today (11/17) to let Crown Royal know if we are going to keep our bag and open our gift or if we’re gonna swipe one of those already revealed. Since one of you will be the beneficiary, we want to hear your voice! Comment, email us (RSBSblog@gmail.com) or holla back on Twitter (@RSBS). We’ll be tweeting about it with the #PassTheCrown hashtag.
Jeff, Allen, Johanna & the Interns
P.S. Like the embroidery work on that there CR bag? Then make sure to check out how to customize your own! They are available to adults (21+) on www.CrownRoyal.com for $9.95 and feature a max of 40 characters, making the perfect gift for the whiskey drinker in your life (if you’re like us, then you have a lot of those).
If there’s one thing the guys at RSBS have in common with the guys from Boardwalk Empire, it’s that we like our Canadian whiskey. And that we kind of resemble Steve Buscemi. But mainly it’s the whiskey.
So, when we got word of Crown Royal’s “Pass the Crown” promotion and found out that they wanted us to get involved, well, you can imagine our excitement. The best part is that we also get to reward one of our loyal readers. Yep, that’s right. You might get to share in our excitement!
The game works like your traditional Christmas party gift swap where the first person grabs a gift, opens it and then the next person can either pick another gift or take the one that the first person received. Our turn is this Thursday and we’ll be looking for you to tell us if we should steal one of the first three gifts or grab a new one from the middle. Of course, this all takes place in the virtual world of the blogosphere so tune in to RSBS and our Twitter feed (@RSBS) to let us know what you think we should do.
But here’s where it gets even more exciting. Whatever gift we end up with, one of our readers will get a matching version, including the possibility of a Crown Royal hosted happy hour! It only makes sense that a gift like this should go to RSBS‘s biggest fan so send pictures showing why you’re our biggest fan to firstname.lastname@example.org and we’ll decide sometime around Christmas who wins. Since the contest is sponsored by Crown Royal, though, you need to be 21 or older to win.
It may feel like Prohibition all over again the way the economy looks but at RSBS, we’ve imported the fun from our neighbors to the north. There’s plenty for you, too, so make sure play along with us.
A couple of years ago a guy in Canada made the international news when he killed a fellow bus passenger for seemingly no reason at all. Even that probably wouldn’t have been enough except that he proceeded to cut the dead man’s head off and hold it up for everyone else to see.
Thankfully, this type of crazy remains relatively rare. Sure, we get the occasional nut job like Jose Offerman but he’s the exception rather than rule. And, to be fair, he didn’t cut anyone’s head off either.
Here in the US we also get our fair share of far-out nuts. These stories run the gamut from the tragic (Timothy McVeigh and the Columbine Killers) to the macabre (Jeffery Dahmer and John Wayne Gacy). However, every once in a while a story hits the wires that just can’t be categorized. For instance, Richard Elwood Sanden.
Honestly, I’m not even really sure where to start on this one. And I’m not even really sure why I’m bringing it up except to spread the horror a little wider in hopes that my own will dissipate. I mean seriously, who uses telephone dating services? That’s why the internet was created.
….Oh, you’re horrified for other reasons? Oh, yeah, ok. I guess I can see where you’re coming from. That part is pretty bad, too. But seriously, I didn’t even know that telephone dating services still existed or that anyone used them.
And so in this Podcast…
Jeff and his Cub-lovin’ pal Johanna Mahmud put their heads together to find out what’s wrong with Joe Buck’s face… they also talk about a slew of other important stuff, including (but not limited to) Andre Dawson being a bad@ss, why everyone hates Cleveland, Pete Hill of the Negro Leagues, Matt Capps’ ginormous noggin, the Lou
Piniella Mailbag and much,
much more… all to make you laughy time!
P.S. Language definitely rated R on this one. We let ourselves go a bit… but it’s a lot of fun (trust us).
to the RSBS Podcast by clicking *HERE*
via iTunes by clicking *HERE*
thanks to Keith Carmack — our engineer, director, editor and
all-around sound guru. His Undercast
podcast is a must-listen (listen to it!). It’s available on iTunes and
is posted regularly at Undercard
Recorded Saturday, July 24, 2010
The best thing about being from Michigan is that you never know what’s coming next and, as a result, you always have something to look forward to. Michigan football goes down the crapper but Michigan State basketball makes two impressive and improbable runs in successive years. The Lions are consistently terrible but the Red Wings are consistently good. The Pistons miss the playoffs after a terrible season but the Tigers are quietly putting together a decent season on the backs of a bunch of young guys.
And if there’s one guy who personifies the ups and downs of the state, it’s former Detroit mayor, Kwame Kilpatrick. The guy just goes from one extreme to the other.
Detroit may not be the city it used to be but you still have to have some clout to become mayor. Believing that same clout will then keep you out of trouble for cheating on your wife? That’s Kwame.
Losing your job but then managing to avoid jail and landing a plum job that requires nothing but showing up to work makes for an impressive second act. Pissing off the court by violating probation and getting yourself thrown in jail for five years? That’s Kwame.
And who knows what comes next? We could hope for economic recovery but that’s so blase. Me, I want to see the former mayor flee to Canada and become a grizzly bear wrestling champion under an assumed name. The Michigan Wolverine. That’s Kwame.
Happy “Health-Care-Less” Friday!
(Image courtesy of BuzzFeed)
On Friday I fulfilled a lifelong personal dream!
I got to meet Larry Walker!!!
Actually, that’s a lie. I didn’t meet Larry Walker; but I did meet a very nice Canadian couple wandering the streets of Chicago looking for restaurant suggestions. The man’s name was Larry. And since all Canadians look alike, I think we can assume there isn’t much difference between the two.
All fooling aside, let it be known that Canadians are awesome! Awesome as in “awe” inspiring. They’re so friendly. They have funny accents. And they speak French!
Larry and his wife were so excited to talk to a real life US American (me) that once they got to talkin’, they started revealing all sorts of dark Canadian secrets — information I certainly shouldn’t be privy to. Oh well. Part of being a US American is not shying away from free enterprise. I’m sure Larry and his wife will understand. So here’s what I learned:
There Are No Death Panels
“We do have to wait in line sometimes for our x-rays and such,” said Larry, “but they certainly don’t make us wait in line during life threatening circumstances. And if you’re well off like we are, you can go to your own doctor on your own time if you want. The Canadian system of health care is great.”
Terrance & Phillip Characterizations Are More Accurate Than One Would Think
“We eat a lot of the same things Americans eat,” said Larry’s wife, “but the lower temperatures seem to wreak havoc on our bowels. We try to avoid Mexican food all together.”
Not All Canadians Live In Igloos
“My brother still lives in one,” said Larry, “but he’s a moose hunter and moose hunters are… well, they’re just a bit off, eh?”
Canadians Think US Americans Are Silly
“George W. Bush? Really? You guys voted for him… twice!” said Larry’s wife. “That’s silly to us. And you’re always scared. Fearful. No one’s going to blow up the Sears Tower. Chicago isn’t important on the world map. That’s like saying they’ll blow up the Stade Olympique. Why would anyone do that? Yet so many of you Americans are convinced your local Wal-Mart is the next target. Haha.”
I asked them: “What do you think of when you hear the name Joe Carter?”
Larry and his wife looked at each other and said, in unison, “Touch ’em all, Joe!”
How can we not love Canadians? Seriously.
Hate me ‘cuz I get all international on you, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right: Canadians are people too.
Your mind is comprised of two
parts dung and one part wretch!
How dare you, sir, intercept
mail not intended for your ham-glazed grub-grubbing barnacle-encrusted
excuses for hands, and then proceed to not only consume said parcel,
but also reveal yourself as a virtuoso practitioner of the common club-footed
idiot’s box traced word waltz!
To start: The fruit your
colon passed with patriotic pleasantry is not called the ‘bananella.’
I haven’t the faintest idea what a ‘bananella’ is. I have
consulted several of the most amenable meta-linguisticists and word-alchemists
in my stable of resources, and, without fail, all have concluded that
the word ‘bananella’ does not exist. Therefore, it is either
an attempted nonsensical addition to the contemporary word canon (which
is already quite full, I can assure you), or it is just your latest
exercise in rump-rousting dipsh*ttery. My vote is for the latter.
QUIGLEY! THE FRUIT IN
QUESTION IS CALLED A ‘BANANALLA’ NOT A ‘BANANELLA’! PLEASE
SHOW SOME RESPECT TO TAFT AND HIS GLORIOUS ACQUISITION, THE PHILIPPINES!!!
THAT LAND WILL BE A FEATHER IN YANKEE DOODLE’S CAMP AD INFINITUM!!!
And please refrain from your
mail malarkey! That flagon (as a bunching of bananallas is known)
was not intended for you, but rather for your delightful wife, Hermilina.
Haven’t you hoodwinked her enough in this lifetime, you stagnant pond
of a man? You’ve already relieved her of her freedom to live,
love and ride her beloved bare-backs… why must you also stand between
her and fruit? Let the lass have some God-forsaken fruit, man!
But enough of all things personal!
Your ignorance took a break
from his paternity leave and certainly made a valid statement of fact — namely, that Cobb and his Bengalese brethren have taken a commanding
hold of league American, and they are most certainly out-performing
the goodfellow Lajoie and his Ohioans. For the record, we are in partial agreement: The Canuck
Lajoie is not of this country, and despite his good nature,
nevertheless should be kept at arm’s length. The land of Canada is
vast and mysterious, and my podiatric pedestals would rather take their
tickels from a Kaiser or Pharaoh, from this Moon’s day right up until
the Sun’s next! Many a seemingly kind and girthy red, northern face
has smiled at me claiming neighborly well-wishes, when the whole time I
was looking at the chompers of a scurvy-eyed gift horse!
That said, while the Detroiters
seem to be a lock to waggle the pennant American (hopefully they will
be able to hoist it a few times before Cobb uses it to rid his posterior
of residual defecate), they will nonetheless fall hard in the
World Series, at the hands of Chicago’s dear Orphans, the mighty child
bears, the blessed Cubs themselves.
To gaze upon America’s team
is to gaze upon a manifest destiny so bright in outlook, even blind
men have been seen turning away from the glare! The reigning World
Champions, while locked in a heated race with the swashbucklers of Penn’s
Woods’ Pitt-City, boast a far-superior club, and once they get their
ducks in order… head for the hills, dear opponent! Between
Mordecai Brown’s three fingered witchery, and Ed Ruelbach’s quiet
dominance, this club is poised to win championship after championship
for years to come. Cobb certainly will wish he was returned to
the stalk after facing one of the aforementioned mound dwellers —
same as last October.
The Chicago Cubs will win it
all once again!
What say you, Dingbat?
PS. How insightful was Frank
Chance’s sale of the quack Doc Marshall to the Superbas of Manhattan’s
armpit? Leave it up to Chance, say I! Leave it up to Chance!
PPS. Steal any more fruit bound
for the unappreciated beauty you call wife, and I will cut you nice
– – –
‘Alabaster’ Eastman Thune
Former editor of the “Follies and Whatnots” section of the Chicago Inter-Ocean.
“Alabaster” is known for coining the popular quip: “An Irishman and
his whiskey are like the Father Sky and his Sun – you are guaranteed
that the latter will show up in the former each day of God’s blessed
For more on the nature of Ninemen’s Morris, please click *HERE*
Produced, shot and edited by Atonal Studios.
Special thanks to Theo Roll.
Very special thanks to Youppi, the vaguely effeminate mascot of the late great Montreal Expos for giving hope to French Canadians worldwide… okay, maybe not worldwide, but you get the idea.
(For best playback results, watch in High Quality)