Did you know that “the Situation” from Jersey Shore might make more than $5 million this year? Have you heard that Snookie from the same show had a NY Times best-selling book? And just in case it wasn’t already clear that the NY/NJ area is going to hell, did you read about the NYC based political strategist who recently managed to place herself at the center of a “too fat to fly” controversy?
I understand what’s going on with the Jersey Shore kids. We have a fascination with things that disgust us and they definitely fall into that category. More than that, self-promotion is a time-honored American trait so why not take advantage of your 15 minutes of fame before it ends. Sadly, the fat lady falls into both of these categories, too.
I know, I’m as shocked as you that an overweight weight-loss blogger would somehow manage to find herself smack dab in the middle of a weight-based controversy. It’s almost unthinkable. Granted, it is America and I give her props on the self-promotion. But as someone who flies somewhat frequently and who has sat next to people who clearly needed to purchase two seats, I don’t feel the least bit sorry for her.
You can make the argument that as long as the person fits between the two armrests they should be able to fly. However, when you suck in, you can usually fit yourself anywhere for a limited amount of time. I can think of a few times I’ve been seated next to someone who “fit” between the armrests but as the flight continued and their paunch began to drift, the armrest magically began levitating. We paid the same price for the ticket. You should not be taking up half of my seat.
Here’s my take on it, Ms. weight-loss blogger. I’m happy you’re losing weight and I hope you continue. I’m sorry if Southwest announced a little too loudly that you needed to buy an additional ticket to make up for your girth (although not really). I also don’t mind that you’re attempting to make a little moolah off the whole deal. But I also really hope I never have to sit next to you on a plane, at least not until you’ve got that heft down under 2 C’s. The Jersey Shore kids may be annoying but at least they don’t spill into my seat.
1. Reinstate the All-Star Game as an exhibition game with no World Series home field implications
2. Get Charlie Sheen to go away
3. Figure out what the hell Brian Wilson’s beard is actually made of.
If we can do all of the above, then I would really be impressed.
And the world will thank us.
Hate me ‘cuz you can, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
They just… haven’t been the same.
And now with the Madoff fallout hindering the club financially, I expect we will be hearing a lot of vitriolic critiques, like the one above on Ollie. Oh Ollie…
I don’t feel sorry for him.
Still, rather than sling crud at those who cannot defend themselves, we at RSBS prefer to just hit below the belt every once in a while. As long as we draw a laugh out of ya, all is fair.
Hate me, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
*Oh yeah, if you’re not already, follow us on Twitter yo!
When Eliot Spitzer left the political arena in a blaze of infamy, New York laughed at the “reformer’s” comeuppance. When Rudy Giuliani showed his true colors by announcing his intended divorce during a press conference, New York barely payed attention. And when David Paterson showed that he knew how to get around even better than the other two guys, New York couldn’t have been surprised.
In fact, if history is any guide, New York shouldn’t really be surprised by any of these events. The only thing that has changed is that it’s no longer as easy to escape from politically perilous pursuits as it used to be. Grover Cleveland fathered an illegitimate child by a New York socialite but still got himself elected President. And a recent discovery shows just how easy it was for 18th century New Yorkers to experience similar carnal delights.
So, I’ve decided that for this upcoming season, I am going to give all New York ballplayers a free pass when it comes to sexual shenanigans. Sure, they aren’t politicians but they’re world ambassadors for the game so they deserve the same concessions as the true politicos. Beside that, I think it’s what Grover Cleveland would want me to do.
That was a pretty lame pun… one that has probably been done a bazillion times already.
But I don’t care, because it justly proves my point — literally and figuratively — that people with money, people with power, people with clout (like New York governor David Paterson) often get whatever they want, whenever they want it; and you and I Joe Plumbers never hear about it.
NOT THIS TIME!!!
So, as the good gov’nuh pays out his $62K fine (which, is roughly how much Alex Rodriguez makes every three innings) for stickin’ the taxpayer with the cost of his World Series tickets, let us remember that, indeed, even the rich don’t always get what they want.
Unless this was some Red Sox fan-fueled controversy that originated with ill intentions meant to disrupt and expose the Yankees’ front office and their ongoing lobbying interests (which may or may not involve the absolute destruction of Ted Williams’ frozen head).
Yeah, yeah, I know… it’s been over a year since Teddy’s head was even relevant, but just like they say: revenge is a dish best served cold.
Or, on a stick.
Hate me ‘cuz it’s Monday, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Billboards in New York City touted his valiant arrival. Buzzing baseball elite charged that he would revolutionize the Mets. Everyday fans scurried to find a suitable nickname for their new best player they’d never heard of.
It was the Spring of 2004 and if you asked me to speak some Japanese, even I probably would’ve said: Matsui-san. Kazuo Matsui-san.
Because I, too, joined the hype.
But why? Why was the baseball world so enamored with an import player whom no one knew anything about? Why did we allow his persona to be so pumped up with pomp, such expectation, sight unseen?
Indeed, Ichiro Suzuki changed the landscape of Major League Baseball — allowing for the mysteriously effective small-ball game to reinject itself into the big boppin’ steroidfest it had become. His mannerisms, his character, his magnetism — on and off the field — were a throwback to the baseball heroes of old. Marveled by his talent, we the US American public accepted and celebrated Ichiro for resurrecting respect in a league where little remained.
So I get it. I understand why we started to get excited about the Japanese baseball contention.
But, the fact is: for every Ichiro Suzuki there’s a Kosuke Fukudome, a So Taguchi, or worse, a Kaz Matsui. For every Hideo Nomo, a Kei Igawa, Hideki Irabu, Daisuke Matsuzaka.
And while it makes a good headline that the A’s and Twins are going out and bidding top dollar for the rights — yes, just the rights — to negotiate with Hisashi Iwakuma and Tsuyoshi Nishioka respectively, I still can’t help but feel sorry for the failure both are being set up for in the future.
American, Dominican, Venezuelan, Canadian, Japanese… there’s only one Ichiro.
And as proved by Kazuo Matsui’s silent saunter back home this offseason, expecting anything but is a guarantee for disappointment.
Hate me. Whatevs. Just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
One media-savvy New York minute prepped skipper to go.
And as long as Davey Johnson refuses to come out of retirement and lead the Mets back to respectability, it looks like new GM Alderson and company are gonna have a pretty big decision to make in the very near future. But like always, RSBS is here to help! In fact, we would like to see Mets fans smile every now and then, so we got the interns busy and boy did they come up with some mighty smart suggestions!
He’s a New Yorker. He’s got a lisp (which indicates ability to persevere… and succeed?). He hates smut and could really clean up the place (talkin’ about you, Ollie Perez, you waste of oxygen).
Then again, Rudy is a Yankees fan. So he’s probably a real a$$h0le.
Why not? The world’s greatest all-time distance runner just retired… while in New York! If anyone can endure such pain, such suffering, such mental anguish… oh, wait, he didn’t finish the New York Marathon? See! That’s why he’s perfect! He’ll fit right in with the Metropolitans and their penchant for pre-finish line collapses!
Remember that black cat that ran across the field during the opening night at Citi Field? Uh…. yeah. That was no accident, folks. That was the work of a witch. A non-masturbating, adamant teabagging, scary spell spewing witch. Holla!!!
Dude! Conan RULED New York back in the day… remember? Then he got the big show, moved to L.A. and got canned a few months in. Sounds a lot like Darryl Strawberry, doesn’t it? Yep. The connections are too great to ignore. So don’t.
I know he’s being interviewed for the job… and I know he’s sort of a lame duck skipper… but the man is ORANGE!!! Move over, Mr. Met, Clint and his biohazzard-proof skin are ’bout to back that a$s up right into yo clubhouse!
Hate me ‘cuz it’s Tuesday, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.