And so in this Podcast brought to you by Lifestyles…
The proverbial (and literal) gloves come off in this verbal masquerade of utter ridiculousness and yes, injuries do occur (though mostly to Johanna and, since they are mental in nature, hardly noticed). Among the topics of conversation one will find: Jeff’s wandering Forever 21 eyes, Zack Greinke’s ribs, the difference between a half and a full nelson, Cameroonian baseball, Bud Selig-bashing take 47 and much, much more… all to make you smile, laugh and play!
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*Special thanks to our PodMaster Keith Carmack. Keith is all over the interwebz killin’ it. You should definitely check out his crew and their subsequently hilarious podcast at Undercard Films. And keep your eye out for what’s next. Dude’s makin’ a movie!
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Recorded Saturday, March 12, 2011
Although the Japanese no longer provide the same nightmare fodder that they did in the early 90’s, the Chinese have more than made up for the loss. Sure, most of the population still lives in abject poverty but the country’s economic might is ever increasing. More than that, with 1.2 billion people, how do we know they aren’t creating an army of Yao Ming-like super soldiers?
If you think I’m just fear-mongering, think again. The Chinese have developed a missile that can hit a moving aircraft carrier. And who has the aircraft carriers? Yeah, that’ll keep you up at night. Did I mention that there are 1.2 billion of them? Oh. Right. Sorry.
We should probably keep in mind that the Chinese aren’t the only Asian nation with a billion plus people at their disposal. And beyond taking over call centers and consulting companies, India has made a strong move into our national pastime with their exportation of Rinku and Dinesh as well. Ok, strong might be a bit of an overstatement since these guys haven’t even made it through the Pirates’ farm system. But you see my point.
However, if there’s one area where we should truly fear the Indians, it’s marriage. Not understanding the concept? I think this will make it very clear:
Repeat after me: I will not run away on my Indian girlfriend, I will not run away on my Indian girlfriend, I will not run away on my…..
Tired of the Barbara Boxer v. Carly Fiorina bad-hair-day feud? Are you sick of the back-and-forth budget battle between Senate democrats and republicans? Has your patience been tested with Joe Lieberman’s unending political bed-swapping?
I have a solution.
And I learned it from the Taiwanese.
It’s called… fist fighting; and though we at RSBS would never condone violence as a foolproof solution to conflict, we do admit that a quick, controlled and monitored brawl will go a long way in fixing an otherwise needless argument. Why do you think my nefarious and oft-rattled colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, has been so passive in his literary retorts lately? Uh… yeah. ‘Cuz he knows not to mess with these guns.
It worked for Nolan Ryan (not so much for Robin Ventura). It worked for Pedro Martinez (again, not so much for Don Zimmer). It worked for Carlos Zambr — wait, okay, maybe it doesn’t always work.
But, as was the case in Taiwan’s parliament session yesterday, it did provide plenty of laughs (not to mention plot lines for future Michael Bay films):
Still not convinced?
No? Okay, imagine Saxby Chambliss dueling to the death with Kristen Gillibrand… in jello! Think of what wonders that could do for our country! People might actually vote!
So yeah, go ahead and hate me, folks… just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
And so in this Podcast…
Jeff, Al & that rock-n-rollin-Cub-lovin’ sage Johanna Mahmud take on all things ‘Merica, including (but not limited to) Rinku and Dinesh, Carlos Zambrano, The Hills (seriously? that happened?), the All-Star Game, the Lou
Piniella Mailbag and much,
much more… all to make you laughy-laughy!
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 Monday, July 5, 2010
The RSBS interns are off playing with their tax-payer purchased stocking stuffers (hookers presumably), the hot stove has cooled to a Holliday simmer (would ya just make up your friggin’ mind) and sleigh bells are ring-ring-jinglin’ like the fat pockets of China’s national treasury…
So, my uber-nefarious colleague Mr. Krause and I would like to wish you and your loved ones a very happy holiday — whatever that means to you.
To me, it means once again pondering that age old question: Is the universe expanding? Or contracting?
Okay, so that’s two questions.
In any case, it’s beer thirty… for at least 48 hours in a row, so Al and I are gonna carpe diem by taking a couple days off. Hopefully when we get back we’ll both have some great holiday stories to share that don’t involve waking up with no shoes under an overpass five miles off the Vegas strip with 35 cents in my pocket, a raging headache, blurred vision and a My Little Pony tattoo on my inner thigh.
Jeff & Allen
Baseball, Apple Pie & Lobster
While still behind the modern US American game in terms of global appeal, Japanese baseball does have a special place in the universe of our national pastime. Indeed it has evolved much beyond the infant and fundamentally challenged Chinese game and the linguistically worldly fella in me likes to think that even Japanese basebrawls tend to be a bit more aggressive than their Korean counterparts’ elusive yet intriguing pitcher’s mound chicken dance routine. Still, there is more to it than that.
During my first year in China, I had a Japanese roommate named Hayashi Nobuhide. Nobby — as we white devils called him because, well, it was easier to pronounce — was a rabid baseball fan. In fact, our friendship, which was predestined to be rocky due to 60 years of bad history, was solidified by our matched passion for the game.
Some of my fondest memories revolve around us getting up at 5am to watch the 1999 World Series during which he vehemently professed his equally tired hatred of the New York Yankees — for they were, to Nobby and his Japanese brethren, holistically representative of “all that’s bad with America” (his words, not mine, though most probably true, especially when considering the likes of Roger Clemens, Chuck Knoblauch and Tony Tarasco).
And that year, Nobby cheered on the Atlanta Braves just like any other rabid Japanese nationalist: while wearing a Seattle Mariners cap.
Ichiro! Ichiro! Ichiro!
“But what about Hideki Irabu?” I asked.
“**** that traitor! Go Ichiro!” he replied.
“But Ichiro’s not playing.”
“He should be! ICHIRO!!!”
To hear Nobby tell it, Ichiro Suzuki was more popular, more influential, more inspiring than Jesus Christ himself (not to mention having a better stylist). Everything about Ichiro, from his odd pregame warmups to his ritualized on-deck routine to his classic power pose at the plate was unequivocally all-things Japanese: systematic, graceful and proud.
Consider the fact that this undying allegiance came during the height of the steroid era, and I gotta admit, Nobby had a damn good point:
Sensationalized as the above may be, the truth remains: Ichiro is powerful.
And now, that power has multiplied. The Japanese gifts continue to grace diamonds all across US America. From Ichiro Suzuki to Takashi Saito to
Kaz Matsui Kosuke Fukudome Hiroki Kuroda, the game has plenty of room for Japanese imports.
If we’re lucky, maybe someday we can even borrow the Hiroshima Toyo mascot; ‘cuz nothin’ says powerhouse baseball like a wet, smelly Carp.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
There was a time when LaTroy Hawkins acted as a personal savior of mine; because I knew the minute he came into a ballgame wearing that Cubs uniform, the chances of them losing took an astronomical leap. While those days may be over — and the nomination of the world’s worst reliever has shifted to the awkwardly clumsy Kyle Farnsworth — I am happy to report that LaTroy Hawkins has given me yet another reason to worship him.
During Monday night’s game against the Cubs — as an Astro — Hawkins verbally and physically questioned the merits of homeplate umpire Mike Everitt, which eventually got him tossed. Since then, Hawkins has suffered from a severe case of logorrhea and has had no problem jawing out at Everitt. Now, Major League Baseball is investigating the incident.
“I have my own opinion, and he had his opinion,” he [Hawkins] said. “He [Everitt] thought I was showing him up. I saw Alex Rodriguez do way worse when I was in the American League. He undressed the umpire. Whatever he said, it was in his face. It’s America.”
You’re damn right, LaTroy! It is America! It’s US America and I don’t care who you are — Alex Rodriguez or not — one should never be allowed to undress the umpire. Who does this Rodriguez fella think he is anyway? Some pretty boy poster child for Details magazine? What a pompous sicko!
We applaud you, LaTroy, for saying what we were all thinking and going after the bad guys behind the plate.
And in the future, LaTroy, instead of getting into a war of words — a war that is rarely won by a journeyman reliever — you may want to follow the stellar example set by Chinese professional athletes and just pulverize your enemy:
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.