fishingnotcatching

SWEET HOME CHICAGO

2008-09-22T20:49:00.000-07:00

My name is Joe Pendleton, and I'm an awful flyer. That's right, an awful flyer. Any hint of turbulence has me in a cold sweat, has me grabbing the hand of the person next to me, has me thinking I'll never see my wife Brenda and my kids Kurt and Georgia ever again.

I'm pretty much a pussy when it comes to air travel. That being said, I find it virtually impossible to sleep on a plane and have plenty of time to think about lots of shit. Well, flying home from Chicago Sunday night on United Flight 330, I had plenty to think about. You see, the previous 52 hours were a whirlwind in the Windy City. From seeing the Cubs clinch the NL Central in public, to seeing Brian Griese throw a football 67 times in person to seeing a midget dance on a bar while pouring shots into Bachelorettes' mouths, I had plenty to reflect on.

So, despite sleeping approximately 9 of the 52 hours, I just put the I-pod at full blast, ignored the cries of release from the chili-cheese fries sitting in my gut and let my mind wonder about what I just been through. Here's a glimps into my brain - which was operating at half capicity on the flight.

-- Minneapolis might be an awful city: On our trip, about 90% of the people we met on the trip were down from the Twin Cities (including a dame who spent $240 on a pair of jeans). Down, meaning they drove 7 hours or trained it about 12 hours to get there. Seems like nobody flies there. So I start thinking why would you make that trip just for Chicago? Then it dawns on me, when you think of Minneapolis, you think of two things: A big mall and a huge bridge collapse. Ok, maybe the Vikings, maybe the movie Fargo, but that's about it. For those folks, 7 hours is nothing. We met one cat at Soldier Field so bored in Minnesota, that he paid $110 for a football ticket and didn't know the difference between a football and a plate of nachos. When I told him - in the 20 seconds he wasn't talking - I was from New Jersey, he asked if I was a Patriots fan? When he spotted on the out of town scoreboard that the Giants were down 10-6 in the first quarter, he said, "looks like your Giants are gonna go down today." Nice guy, but just wouldn't clam up. The seven hours in the car back to Minny with that cat must be unbearable.

-- People in the Midwest are nice - Too nice. Like our clueless NFL friend, everyone from Chicago to Minnesota is very friendly, and very chatty. Perfect example came when Slim Steve went to get a pretzel at Wrigley Field, only to find the stand he went to were out of them. The woman behind the counter explained that someone had gone to get more, and then she went on a 15-minute diatribe on how they had run out of pretzels in the first place. About 40 seconds into the diatribe, Steve said the pretzel wasn't that important to him and walked away.

-- Chicago is the Bachelorette Party Capital of the World: I challenge you to walk through the streets of Chicago on any Saturday night and not find some dame having her last fling before getting hitched. You could go into a White Castle and there will be about 10 dames in there, one of them wearing a veil and other embarrassing shit. It's unreal. And these parties are dumb. They turn into mini-scavenger hunts. Yes, the bride to be has to collect stuff on her trip. Want to know how wild one party was that we ran into? The dame had to get from a strange man - a sock. Yes, a sock. Boy, those friends of her thought of everything. I mean this dame's fiance probably has about 10 strippers sitting on his grill and she's out collecting socks. WHOA BOY. It's a huge thing in Chicago, though. One place we were at, we must've seen about 4-5 bachelorette parties going on, with most of the attendees wearing their "I need a man" dress. A few bachelorettes did get wild, jumping on a bar to dance while the house midget (that's him in the green shirt) poured shots of something down their throats. Speaking of shots, to get into the spirit of things, yours truly did something called a Jagrbomb with a few brides-to-be.

-- There aren't many ugly dames in Chicago. Either that or the ugly ones stay home: It's pretty nutty, actually. The ratio of hot chicks to ugly ones is wider than the girl-to-guy ratio at James Madison U. Of course, me and the other cats were there to watch baseball and football, not midwest dames in high heels and tight dresses walking around.

-- There's a dog in Chicago that is livng my dream life. We ran into a pooch that lives with an attractive single woman who takes the dog to bars in a gym bag. Think about it. The dog lives with a hot dame, is carried to and from bars in a bag, and has the ability to lick his own nuts. Some guys have all the luck.

-- Cubs fans hate White Sox fans: To me, the relationship between Yankee fans and Mets fans is a practical lovefest compared to the animosity in Chicago. I saw more anti-Sox shirts outside Wrigley than I saw pro-Cubs shirts. It's unreal. If the White Sox ever beat the Cubs in the World Series, I predict there will be a few murders that night. I'm not kidding. It's vicious. Speaking of the Cubs, seeing them clinch in person was quite cool, and a part of me would really love to see them go all the way. However, with the Mets possibly facing them in the first round, I want to see them fail. But if you hang around Cubs fans for a while, you really start to feel sorry for them. Even during the clinching celebration, I got the feeling that some of them already knew that the season, like it always does, will end badly. Speaking of Wrigley, all of you who remember my favorite 7-11 list, well, let's just say I walked into Wrigley with a Double Gulp of Diet Pepsi.

-- I'm a loser: Yes, that's right, a loser. Of the 42 hours I was awake, the fate of the Mets was somewhere in my brain about 40 of them. Even while watching a great Bears-Bucs game in person, I couldn't stop thinking about what was going on in Atlanta, what the Brewers were doing and how the Mets are gonna blow it again. On Friday night in a bar loaded with Chicago women, I spent more time watching the ESPN crawl for a Mets score. Two of the dudes in our group labeled me as gay for this behavior. Maybe they are right, but I think loser is more appropriate.

-- I'm old. Want to be depressed? Go into a bar filled with cats/dames in their 20s and watch them dance to songs from the mid-80s. At first, the concept is pretty cool, but then you realize these kids think of these songs as oldies. At about 4 a.m. on Saturday, Glory Days started blasting over the speakers at my favorite place in Chicago, and all these kids were into it, but I realized most of them weren't even born when Born in the USA came out. I like to think I'm young at heart - my screaming Highway to Hell at 4:30 a.m. that same morning is proof of that - but let's face it, I'm an old fuck, at least in the eyes of the yuppie 2o-somethings at this place. I thought knowing all the words to Rick Astley's never gonna give you up was cool, others didn't. Speaking of this bar, the DJ proved to me something I've know for years. Billy Joel is a ripoff artist. At one point of the night, the DJ played R.E.M.'s "It's the End of the World as We Know It," and then followed it right up with "We Didn't Start the Fire," which I've been saying for years is a ripoff of REM. Of course, about 15 beers in I wasn't praising the DJ for this back-to-back play, I was ripping him for playing the Joel song in the first place. If it wasn't for the 20-year-dames getting into the song, I would've left.

I can't believe it, we've already landed. What a smooth flight, I guess I have nothing else to think

about until . . . I get into the car and listen to the end of the Yankee game on the radio. A few quick thoughts. Quick, I promise.

-- John Steling is a bafoon. He seemed more interested in the line score than the goings on at the Stadium after the final out.

-- Derek Jeter's speech was a joke. Could the cat look any more uncomfortable and scripted making that speech? Real original DJ, praise the fans. It's funny, he kept saying how great Yankee fans were, yet didn't mention that the organization will be squeezing every penny out of those people when the new stadium opens next year. I mean, $850 for a baseball ticket isn't that out of line. Good Riddance Yankee Stadium. Good Riddance Yankees for that matter.

-- Mets are in big trouble. What kills me about the Mets, is if they don't make it this year, people will talk about how they collapsed again. Of course, no one will mention they were 7.5 out when Willie got the ax in June. No one will mention they made a nice run with the shittiest bullpen in baseball (thanks Omar), no one will mention how the Braves laid down to the Phillies yet played the Mets tough this week. Last year was a collapse. Epic. The worst in baseball history. This year, they will be falling short. It's just as painful, but let's not compare it to last year. That being said, with six games left and a 1-game lead, I think they'll make it. Johan will start two of the six games, so if they can win both of them, they just have to split the other four games to go 4-2 over the last six, meaning the Brewers would have to go 5-1 to tie them and 6-0 to beat them out. That being said, if they lose tonight with Johan on the hill, they might be done. Speaking of Willie, he sure seems to be embracing his past life as a Yankee. As someone said today, if he had shown the same fire he did sliding into second base Sunday night when he was leading the Mets, he might still be the manager.

That's enough venting for now. I'll check back whenever the Mets are eliminated/clinch for my thoughts on the Mets.

SUMMERTIME BLUES

2008-09-09T10:25:00.000-07:00

Well, after taking the summer off, I'm back and have to say, quite fired up. Little Kurt (kindegarten) and Georgia (3rd grade) are back in school, and I actually have some time to blog again.

I was gonna rant about how awful the Rams are, or gloat in how awful the Yankees are, but, believe it or not, a few lists have my blood boiling, which, I know, is what the lists are supposed to do.

Actually, two lists - which both deal with my favorite decade (the 80s) have my ire at an all-time high. The first was produced by Entertainment Weekly a few weeks ago. It listed the top 25 comedies from the last 25 years. Here's the link:

A few thoughts:

-- How the fuck is Naked Gun No. 24. NO 24????? Are you shitting me. It should at least be in the top 10, and, should be in the top 5. Just seeing OJ get his ass kicked the entire film make it a top 5er.

-- How is Clueless even on the list? Clueless? Gag me with a spoon.

-- Tropic Thunder No. 17 - Enuff said.

-- Beverly Hills Cop is No. 3, National Lampoon's Vacation is No. 2, Ghostbusters is No. 1.
Let's review: Trading Places - which is ten times funnier than Bev. Cop is No. 15. Vacation, which I admit belongs on the list (but not at No. 2), is funny, but Fletch could be Chevy's funnies film from that era.

Ghostbusters is the funniest movie from the last 25 years? Are you fucking kidding me? Funny? Yes. No. 1? no way.

Before it get to the most glaring omission, I present some films that should also be on the list.

One Crazy Summer: John Cusack, Bobcat, Demi Moore, and Neidermayer all in the same film. Classic.

Better Off Dead: Another Cusack classic.

Revenge of the Nerds: Are you telling me Napoleon Dynamite is funnier that this?

Team America: World Police: It's exclusion is what nearly caused me to have a stroke. It is unquestionably the funniest movie over the last 25 years, and possibly ever made. Watch it and try not to piss your pants. I dare you.
Marianettes shitting on each other during sex isn't funny?
Puppets vomiting after getting loaded?
That's not funny?
Maybe the impending death of Kim Jong Ill will raise awareness of this classic. Until then, I will no longer recognize EW as a publication.

The other list was on VH-1, which ranked the top 100 songs of the 1980s.

Here are the top 3
3. Hungry Like the Wolf - Duran, Duran
2. Pour Some Sugar on Me - Def Leppard
1. Livin' on a Prayer - Barack Jovi

I must say, if I was making this list, only No. 3 would make the list and would probably be somewhere in the 20s.

No. 2 is, in my opinion, a piece of shit. First of all, it's Def Leppard - which actually produced some decent rock in the early 80s - selling out with a total pop piece of shit. Second of all, they ripped off the title from the Archie's Sugar, Sugar, which by the way, is 10 times better. The list and song reminded me off a joke Mrs. Lad once told me. "What has 9 arms and sucks." Answer: Def Leppard.

As for No. 1: I must say I like this tune, but because it reminds me of a time at TSC when the Meister Brau flowed and the women were looser than Paris Hilton on crack.

My problems with the song are this: It's a poor man's (I know, he's not poor, just ask Obama) attempt at a Springsteen ripoff. You know, cat down on his luck, union on strike, but he loves his women and his guitar. Classic Bruce. The former Sayreville Bomber/St. Joe's Falcon tried again a few years later with "Born to Be My Baby." It's the same song.

Second, it's not even the best song on the album Slippery When Wet. That, or course, is Social Disease. Anyway, good song, but top song of the 80s, no way.

Here's my top 3:
3. Come on Eileen -Dexy's Midnight Runners
2. Der Kommisar - After the Fire
1. She's a Beauty - The Tubes

Speaking of lists, with Labor Day over, I will present in about a week my list of the 5 best and worst days of the summer of 2008. This list is the brainchild of Mrs. Slim Steve, who was there for one of the worst days, when we had to pack up the beach house and come back to reality.

Other big news: In the next month or so, I will be launching a new web site. I bought one of those web site for dummies book and am fired up to do it. only problem is, I'm not sure what the content will be.

Right now, the candidates are:
Guys Named Keith - will list and explore famous and not so famous dudes named keith
The Beer Count - Will chronicle all of my drinking events
The Worst Mets - Will explore every awful player in Met history (there's a bunch)
Halt Fraser - Will explore why Brendan Fraser is actually a celebrity and examine ways to make it stop.
THE TSC - I will possibly chronicle my college years in a book form. Maybe a new chapter or so every month. Could be the groundwork for a major hollywood film.

If you have any thoughts or views on this, feel free to weigh in.

Well, that's all for now. Big Chicago trip coming up next week.

Get ready for the summer list and expect weekly blog entries starting in late Sept.

2008-07-01T08:21:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official, we are now the laziest country on the planet, and we have our friends at Verizon to thank for it.

Yesterday, I took the two Pendleton kids to see Wall-E, and of course, before the film started, we were bombarded with commercial after commercial.

Most were of the annoying Coke and Pepsi variety, but then one popped on for a new gagdet from Verizon that basciallly can identify any song playing and immediately download it for you. For example, you're walking down the street and some dude in a car is playing a song you like, but have never heard before. All you need to do is stick out the little device, which will tell you the name of the song, and then will download it from Verizon.com ASAP. I agree it's pretty cool, but I mean how fucking lazy are we getting? Usually in that situation you may actually have a conversation with another human and find out the title of the song, or may have to go home and try to find it online. You know, actually make some sort of effort. Pretty soon, we will just have to think about taking a crap and it will done for us. (Now, that would be cool).

What's ironic - and usually this word is used incorrectly, but in this case I think it's actually irony - is that Wall-E is (spoiler alert) all about the human race becoming so lazy and so computer-reliant everyone becomes extremely fat and lazy to the point that they can no longer walk. Hmmmm.

Since I've used the "spoiler alert" phrase up there, I'm actually disgusted in myself that I did. It's one of many new catch phrases that make me sick. The others: Walk-off home run; "no worries," are just a few more.

Speaking of vomit-inducing thoughts, how about those Mets? They really, really, really blow. Joe Reyes' head is up his arse, D. Wright hasn't had a big hit all season and Johan Santana, well, let's just say if he could pitch as well as he sells out his teammates, he'd be in line for 20 wins. Last night's 7-1 loss to the Cards was the last time (I know I've said this before, but I really mean it this time) that I will go out of my way to watch them when I don't have to (ie. work). If they don't give a shit, why should I?

Not much else to report right now. Possible Six Flags trip with the kids next week, and hopefully my first ride on Kinga Ka. Of course, if I lose my hat on the ride, I'll let it go, instead of losing my lid.

One final thing, here are two great, yet different Web-sites to check out.

straightcashhomey.net/

fatalfarm.com

The first one is self-explanatory, the second one is pretty whacky, but check out the TV themes, especially the Happy Days one and the Ducktales one.

Happy July 4th. Celebrate your freedom by eating and drinking to the point of puking.

GONNA CRY NOW

2008-06-18T10:35:00.000-07:00

Well, I'll admit it's been way too long since my last post. A lot has happened that I should be weighing in on.

The deaths of Harvey Korman, Charlie Jones and of course, the biggest TV star in all of the land, Tim Russert, and Willie Randolph's career.

We'll get to that later.

The inspiration for this entry was a trip to Philly on Monday night with three former employees of the Macromedia empire. We went to see the fightin' Phils and the Red Sox battle it out. The game was OK.

Ryan Howard hit two pop flys that landed about 30 rows back. Bartolo Colon - who makes me look as skinny as a heroin addict - hurt himself swinging a bat, and J.D. Drew - a man who one of my pals described as "not giving a shit about anything," was booed everytime up.

However, the highlight of the game was sitting next to and doing schtick with former Celtic great Chris Ford. Cool guy. Wouldn't let me buy him a beer and was up for plenty of schtick. Not many people know this, but I was a huge Celtics fan in high school. Of course, once I got a bit smarter, I realized the NBA was a complete bore and was tuned out. We did make one mistake when we sat down, as we first thought Ford was Red Sox great Jerry Remy (r.), but he quickly corrected us.

As for postgame schtick, we had a couple of tastes in the parking lot (about 30 less than I had the last time I was in the Comcast/FU Center parking lot) and then we headed into South Philly for the Pat's/Geno's cheesesteak run. Unable to decide which one I wanted, I had one from each place. I didn't want to offend my Philly friend on the way home, but I started thinking about how overrated the whole Philly cheesesteak thing is. I mean, it's cheese and steak. How hard is that? I banged out a Steakum sandwhich in my kitchen a few weeks ago that was just as good. I mean, I guess besides a broken bell, they have nothing else to hang their hat on, so we'll give it to them.

Anyway, with my arteries at Russert levels, we headed to the Philly museum of art and ran up the stairs that Sly Stallone did 32 years ago. This time, I did say that getting up those steps was overrated, as I was able to make it with about 7 beers and two cheesesteaks in my belly, but my friend reminded me that in the movie Rocky had already run about 20 miles before getting up there. I don't think I've run 20 miles in my life.

Of course, the capper of the night was listening the last win of Willie Randolph's Met career. I went home, went to sleep, got up around noon and found out the cat was history. I won't get into my full feelings on the Mets right now, but for all you Met fans out there, know this. For as long as you live, Jeff Wilpon will be running the Mets. Good luck.

A few other notes:

Russert coverage way overblown. I'm sure he was a good guy, and like he was supposed to do, asked the tough questions on Meet the Press. But honestly, who watches Meet the Press? I think the NHL got better ratings on NBC. I mean, if Mike Emerick checks out, will there be front page tributes and columns and hour-long TV features on him? While there should be, there won't be. And I'm sure more people watched Charlie Jones on NBC over the years than Russert, too. What's gonna happen when Wally Cronkite signs off for the last time?

As for Harvey Korman, I was pissed that nobody pointed out he was the voice of the great gazoo on the Flintstones. Dum Dums.

There's plenty of more to report, but I gotta go. School's out in a few days and all free time is out with it. Of course, that means more time for me and my kids, which I have to admit, is not a bad deal.

BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS

2008-05-04T22:24:00.000-07:00

Before I get started, not sure if any of you saw this, but this dude basically got a custom coffin made for himself which looks like a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. How hard core is that.

Here is the link to the story?

On to less important things:

Well, I've often wondered why most people in this country are overweight/out of shape/at risk for serious heart disease/fat as shit. Well, the answer is Dunkin' Donuts.

Last Saturday, in conjunction with a local charity, I stood in front of one of Pendletonville's 2 DDs collecting money for mentally handicapped kids.

Over the course of 4 hours, I collected tons of cash, and that's because the joint was extremely busy. As a matter of fact, between 10:40 a.m. and 11:40 a.m. I counted (I was bored) 105 people going in and coming out with some sort of product. 105 people in 1 hour. And it wasn't just coffee, it was donuts, muffins, drinks with about of pound of whip cream on it. Pretty much anything with oodles and oodles of sugar were being purchased.

One dude, who I must say is double my weight - and that's a lot - came out with 3 of those "Boxes of Joe" and 8 - that's right I said 8 - dozen donuts.

The highlight/lowlight was a woman who came out with two little kids (I would say about ages 8 and 5 and each on their way to about 120 pounds) and while she banged down a huge coffee, each kid scarfed down about 6-7 Munchins each. I nearly said something, but I kept my mouth shut, took the cash.

The highlight of the morning, however, was seeing the meal put together by some dude who obviously had consumed several tastes the night before. I mean , I've done the morning snickers bar with a Dr. Pepper to cure the hangover, but this took the cake.

While I stood outside the DD, this cat, looking like shit, wandered over and sat on a wooden flower bed in the parking lot and proceeded to pull out of a bag a sleeve of Saltines and the canned cheeze. Not cheez whiz, the other stuff in which you tilt the nozzle like a can of whip cream. Well, he pretty much bangs down the whole sleeve of crackers and cheese in no time. Next up, a Giant Hershey bar, which was gone in seconds. Then, of course, it was time for a large coffee and a smoke. Suddenly, the huge bowl of Cap'N Crunch I had that morning was looking healthy.

I told myself I should either become a cardiologist and open my own DD.

On other notes:

- The Ranger season came to a painful end (what else is new) today, so now I can focus 100% on the Mets, which, I'm sure will be another lesson in frustration, heartbreak and anger.

-- Hey Joker, I enjoyed your stadium photos. Nice job. Nice trip. I nearly got mugged outside Tiger Stadium back in the day by some hut-less character outside the local White Castle. Good times, good times. I was surprised, however, to see that a certain scribe still has the guts to show his face on a certain Big 10 campus.

I have plenty of other schtick to do - including a trip to the Jersey shore with the Pendleton kids last week - but can't concentrate right now because this Stars-Sharks game is still going. Right now, they just finished the third OT. Anyone who says hockey is boring, by the way, is an arse hole.

I promise I'll be back at the end of the week with more hijinks.

DORM DAZE 2

2008-04-14T00:23:00.000-07:00

Well, I've done it fans of FNC. I've found a way to show all of you my drunken pictures from college. Please, whatever you do, don't post them anywhere else, as they are quite embarrassing, but I figure my loyal fans deserve to see them. Check them out here. They are awesome.

After looking at the photos, keep reading below for my comments on each shot.

Congrats, you've just been Rickrolled. Yes, it's the new Internet phenomenom where people are tricking other people, into watching Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up Video." It's pretty sick, but apparently, that's what young kids these days are up to. Another part of Rickrolling is gathering a bunch of people in a public place and playing the song as loud as possible. There's also a Met connection, since some Rickrollers duped the Mets into having the song as one of their nominees for their 8th inning song.

The video, by the way, is tremendous. Astley's dancing is lame, his lip-synching is awesome, and the bartender dude is likely on crack, especially when he jumps into the chain-link fence.

DORM DAZE

2008-04-08T21:32:00.000-07:00

I have an ethics question for fans of FNC.

Is it ethical to post incriminating photos taken long before the Internet age on the Internet?

Interesting question, huh.

The reason I ask is because it recently came to my attention that the college alma mater of myself has an alumni page where members can post photos. The idea is for alum to post current photos of themselves and their kids and stuff like that. Well, one of my classmates has posted photos from back in the day. Several feature a drunken Joe Pendleton doing the following

1. licking his girlfriend's face while holding a can of Old Mildew.

2. Smooching some other dame on the cheek

3. Arm around some other dame while obviously not sober

4. Doing a drunken version of the Unicorn song (there are two of those).

Now, had these pix been taken within the last few years, I would have no problem with them hitting the world wide web, since I would've been well aware of the fact that these photos could hit a large audience in a short time. But at the time they were taken I figured only a few friends would see them. I've lodged a complaint with the poster, but he tells me those shots are innocent compared to the other ones he has of me, so I will just pipe down. Now before all you fans go scrambling to the web site, you need to be a graduate to get on there. So if you want to see them, stop by FNC World Headquarters some day and I will show you.

Speaking of college, on my last post JG said how much she loved the Hooters' Nervous Night album. It got me thinking about other albums that influenced my four years in college. So, without further ado, here's the list of my top 10 albums that got me through college. Please remember it was 1994-1988, and, as the photos will attest, I was young, drunk and stupid.

Now, these are not my favorite albums from the years 1984-1988, just the most influential from that time. Actually, my favorite album from that era - The Cult's Electric, did not come to my attention until 1989.

Without further ado, Here we go.

10. Genesis, Genesis OK, let's start with this statement. I hate Phil Collins. Hate Genesis. Did I mention I hate Genesis. However, there was something about this album I liked, and it's probably because one night me and some co-ed got very friendly in my dorm room while this album played quite loudly. My roomie had a nice stereo system and this CD. Everytime I hear any tunes from this album, it brings me back to that evening. Nothing like getting busy to "Illegal Alien." I got my first hickey that night, and of course, didn't realize it until the next day, when, while sitting in class, some dude behind me kept starting at me. When I took a stop in the can after class I spotted - for the first time - the golf-ball shaped red thing on my neck. Note: This photo not on web site - yet.

9. License to Ill, Beastie Boys: This album was the shit in the mid-80s, and my junior year, it was pretty much played once a day in my dorm room. "Girls" is one of my favorite tunes at the time. I didn't get any broads to this one, maybe the offensive lyrics had something to do with it.

8. Centerfield, John Fogerty: I got this free from the radio station - since they didn't play mainstream stuff, and it's actually a collector's item, since one of the songs - Vanz Cant Dance - had the name changed after the album's initial release. I still have a vinyl copy with the original, and not the changed tune. Of course the title track could get any baseball fan fired up.

7. 5150, Van Halen: My roomate, who's nickmane is Jimmy Jam, was a HUGE, HUGE Van Halen fan. I liked them, but not like he did. Anyway, he played this album every second he could. Perhaps my biggest memory of this album is in the summer of 1986 me and James Jam cut our own version of "Why Can't This Be Love," in one of those Boardwalk recording studios in Wildwood. I still have the tape. That will never see the alumni Web site.

6. Eat 'Em and Smith, David Lee Roth: Jim Jam's and his other partner in VH crime, Johnny Ace, were also DLRoth fans. So much that Mr. Ace spent 6 hours on Halloween 1986 making up his face to look just like the cover. That same October, on the same day Lenny Dykstra homered in Game 3 of the NLCS, me, Ace, Jam and others trekked to the Spectrum in Philly to see Diamond Dave in concert. Cinderella as the opening act. Great job.

5. Vital Signs, Survivor: Let's just say Old Joe was a pretty sentimental - and desperate cat - back in the day, pretty much falling in love with any dame that showed any interest in him. If I had a dollar for everytime I - in an inebriated state - sang "The Search is Over" to a dame, I'd have about 10 more bucks to my name. Of course, "High on You" and "Can't Hold Back" were party staples back in the day.

4. Raisin' Hell, Run DMC: If Jim Jam's stereo wasn't blasting the Beasties, it was kicking out this one. "You Be Illin" and "Walk This Way," must've been played about 300 times in the fall of 1986. Let the record state, however, that I never wore laceless adidas or a Kango hat.

3. Born in the USA, Bruce Springsteen: Every person in every dorm in every college in America had this casette in the fall of 1984 and with the Boss churing out single after single until about 1985, this one never got old. My fondest college memory of this album is getting loaded and lip-synching the end of "I'm Goin Down," where Bruce does all this "hey, a baba hey mow mow," shctick. I knew every word to every song of this album.

2. Nervous Night, Hooters: Since this band was from Philly, they were huge in South Jersey. My biggest regret is about a week before this album came out, they played the college rec center, but I blew it off. When I bought the cassette the next week, I was ticked that I missed it. I did see them with Squeeze at the Garden State Arts Center the summer of 1985, but was drunk and on the lawn, so I don't recall much except yelling, "They Were the Isrealites" at the top of my lungs. It was also on a constant loop in my brother's blue 1972 Nova, which made trips to the Jersey shore almost every weeekend. Love this album. And no, No. 1 .....

1. Slippery When Wet, Bon Jovi: While the boys from Sayreville are not my favorite cup of tea, I do owe them plenty. You see, college dames loved, LOVED, this album and they loved JBJ. So this scenario played out often: Dame is partying, dame gets fired up over "You Give Love a Bad Name," and "Livin on a Prayer," dame is longing for Bon Jovi, dame realized Bon Jovi not stopping by party, dame realizes J. Pendleton and others at party are her best shot for a good time. You throw in the Jersey factor and this album was worth its weight in gold. Ironically, Social Disease is my favorite tune off this album.

Well, there you have it.

One final note on college, the web site photos has got me thinking about writing my college memoirs. I may start and run the forward on this site to see if I should continue.

A few other notes:

This is gonna be a long year for the Mets unless they get a lights out pitcher in the pen.

Rangers-Devs will go 7. Still have no clue who will win.

I'm getting very soft. On Friday and Saturday, I had a few tastes, and about an hour after the drinking stopped, I was ready for bed. Very soft.

That's it for now. Let's Go Rangers

IT'S IN THE A-HOLE

2008-03-31T09:53:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back from the weekend of golf. It was great. Thanks to mother nature, we only got in 34 holes. Due to cold temps, our first tee time was pushed back about two hours. And then our second tee time was pushed back 2 hours as well, so we played 16 in the morning and 18 in the afternoon. Believe me, it was enough. High winds, cool temps and shitty golf are not a good mix for wanting to keep playing. The weekend also included me nearly getting in my first bar fight - twice, but good timing and me actually thinking straight avoided that happening.

Anyway, instead of rehashing every bad shot, and every awful decision by me - both on and off the course - we are going to play a little game from the weekend, called, name the A-hole.

Yes, I will give you a few candidates from the people we ran into this weekend, and you, the readers of FNC will get to voice your opinion on who was the biggest A-hole we ran into.

THE STARTER: This is the dude who sort of runs the on-course stuff at the first course. Well, me and my brother Torry aren't at the course for 3 minutes and he quickly confiscates our beverage bag, telling us they are not allowed on the course. OK, if it's July 15, and there are 100s of people on the course, you don't want everyone bringing their own stuff out there. But we were literally the only two dudes on the course. Anyway, let's just say the only tip the dude got was to go home and have intercourse with himself. It gets worse. On about the 8th hole, I get a call from our third dude who's coming up and I warn him about bringing a bag near the starter. He's OK with that, but he gets snagged when the starter catches him loading beers into his golf bag in the parking lot and confiscates his bag. It gets even more worse. As we are back in the parking lot getting ready to head to our second T-time, we ask the dude if he can call the second place (which is all run by the same chain, so he works for them, too) and tell them we are a few minutes late, but are on our way. He says he can't. He then comes down to the parking lot and catches us putting tastes and ice into our golf bags. He gives us a dirty look and leaves. Of course, when we get to the second course, they say they didn't get a call about being on time for our tee-time, but did get a call about us being trouble makers and they will be keeping an eye on us. So therefore, tastes on the second course had to be had very secretly. Thanks starter dude, your a-hole candidate No. 1

2. THE WAITRESS: After our second round on Saturday, we were very tired, cold and hungry, so headed to a local restaurant, which, I believe is named after that Philly band that did "All You Zombies" and "And We Danced." Anyway, as we are walking into the joint we see one pretty hot waitress smack another hot waitress right in the arse. NICE. It then turns out she's our waitress, and when she comes to get our drink order, she pretty much says, "did you see me do that? She's my girlfriend." Ok, so in seconds she's established she's very dirty and likes to brag about her dirtiness. After taking our drink order, she walks to the bar and then slaps a male employee of the joint on his backside. Now we are confused, but encouraged. So then she comes back to take our food order and now she is really selling the name of the establishment, if you know what I mean. I believe Austin Powers called them "maching gun jumblees." Anyway, after practically falling all over us while taking our orders, one of the members of our group says to her, "hey, you smacked that girl's butt, you smacked that guy's butt, can you now smack his (pointing to me) butt." She, in a complete 180-degree turn attitude-wise, says "because I don't know him." And from that point on, she is a total beeyatch. Never really acknowledges us, never chats with us. Just sort of leaves us alone until it's settling up time. Basically, we called her bluff, and she folded like cheap house of cards, cheap being the most applicable term. That's candidate No. 2

NO. 3: THE BRIDESMAID: So Saturday night we are in the bar at our hotel hanging out, revitalized from our trip to the hottub and the outdoor heated pool. There's nobody there except for these four dames - mids 20's - sitting there having a drink. As it turns out, one dame is getting married in a few weeks, so this is her bachlorette party. Looking to start some schtick, I wander over to their group and say "so who's getting married?" And they point to the dame who is. Without anything original to say, I give her the "big mistake," line. In seconds, they are all over me, ripping me for saying something so insensitive, and questioning if I'm married and how could i say that and blah, blah, blah. After trying to explain it was just a joke, I ask the one dame who is really hammering me if she's married and she's say no. So I then start ripping her for ripping me, since she has no experience on whether or not marriage is a mistake or not. I wander out of the joint, saying "doesn't anyone have a sense of humor around here."\

NO. 4: JOE PENDLETON: Yes, I'm nominating myself for the hell I put my brothers through Friday night. It seems when I have a few cocktails, I start acting like an a-hole. Not on purpose, rather just out of stupidy. So anyway, we get to our hotel room and I get under the covers and put my I-Pod in. You see, my brother snores quite loudly, so I figured the I-pod would help that. Of course, I'm now loaded and want to carry on a drunken rehash of the evening. So I remove the earpiece from the I-pod, ask my brother a question, and then before he can answer, I put the earpiece back in. So he's answering, but not getting a response from me, since I can't hear him. So then, I take the earpiece out, say, what did you say, and put the earpiece back in. Again, I wasn't trying to be an asre, I was just loaded. As for my other brother, let's just say I made insentive comments about his lady friend in front of him - and her. Before you vote, just know this went on for about 2o minutes. I final piece of evidence, on my way to my brother's joint, I spilled a XL iced coffee all over my car and still haven't cleaned it up.

OK, there you have it. I know all of you will vote from me, just to bust my onions, but please, be fair. The four potential a-holes on the list deserve that.

A few other notes: I started growing a goatee this week. not sure why. Mrs. Pendleton is gonna give it a few day's growth before making her decision on whether I should keep it or not. I don't feel strongly either way.

Back to candidate No. 2. I have to apologize to Slim Steve and Bill K. A few years ago, while on a trip to Penn State, we argued about the quality of the food at that establishment. I said it was good, they said it was awful. Well, it turns out, they are right, sort of. You see, my experience in eating Hooters food came from my many trips to the Hooters in FLorida and the one in the Inner Harbor in Baltimore at a time when there were not many around. But since that chain has expanded to the middle of nowhere in Pa. and NJ, it's clear the quality of food has sunk, too.

Well, it didn't take too long for the Met season to hit the crapper, now did it. That's OK, right now the only team I'm focused on is the good team that plays at MSG. Speaking of the Mets, how fat and old did Keith Hernandez get over the winter?

Today marks the 1-month anniversary of my father's passing. I can't believe it's only been a month. It seems like he has been gone years, and let me tell you, it's not getting any easier.

Well, that's it for now. THanks for reading and voting. By the way, once the voting is completed, I will reveal my pick.

Dictionary word of the week

ASS: (n) 1. a horselike beast of burden; a donkey; 2. a stupid person, a fool

54 HOLES AND NOTHING'S ON

2008-03-19T19:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, believe it or not, a second post within a week's time. Hard to believe. Well, I'm wound up over a few things, and with Mrs. Pendleton hogging the TV to watch Top Chef, I have some time. So here goes.

I think I'd be pretty pissed off right now if I was former Conn. Governor John Rowand. Think about it, he had to resign his gig because he had some state workers put in a hot tub. A hot tub. Sure, it's a resignable offense, but when you consider what's going on in two nearby states, it's nothing.

First you have Jim McGreevey, who not only gave his gay lover a state job, he made him the head of homeland security for the state. Hot tub, smot tub. And then it comes out this week, that old Jimmy M was having threesomes with his wife and another dude, but it never crossed his wife's mind that he was gay. So here he is, pretty much getting it on with another guy in front of her and she think he's doing her a favor.

Then you have Mr. Spitzer. This cat is "hooking" up with high-end prostitutes while at the same time putting prostitution rings out of business. What a card. And he knows how to pick him, judging from "Kristen's" girls gone wild performance.

And then there's this david Patterson guy. He not only cheats on his cheating wife several times, he has the balls to tell the whole world about it so he doesn't get the boot. So let's review.

One guy quits because he's gay and his gay lover is in charge of protecting everyone in the state.

Another quits because he's sleeping with hot and wild 22 year olds

another cheats on his wife "several times" and keeps his job

Rowland has to resign over a hot tub. Doesn't seem fair.

A few other things:

Can people stop watching American Idol? PLEASE. I don't care if it's on TV, I'm just getting tired of reading about it in newspapers, hearing about it on the radio. Reading about it on the web. I can't take it anymore. Plus, with the record industry in the shitter, is a record contract really a big deal anymore? Sure, Underwood is doing well, but that's because she banging, not because she can sing. Anyone here from Taylor Hicks lately?

I loved Jersey Girl's rundown of her workout playlist. Well, I might have you topped, JG, while working out today (yes, I said working out), the Royal Guardsmen's Snoopy and the Red Baron came through the tiny headphones of my I-Pod. I was so fired up, I nearly fell off the eliptical machine.

Congrats to the staff of the AA News for their series on academics and athletics at Michigan. What the whole series has proven to me is the UM is just like any other football factory in the country, and not some esteemed institution that has a great balance of fine athletics and academics. I now realize why a second nickname for the team is Big Blue: Most of the students and players can't spell Wolverines.

A new feature to FNC. In each new post, I will take a word out of the dictionary along with its definition. I do this for two reasons: There's a dictionary gathering dust on my desk and figure it would be good for a few laughs.

Today's word is SCANSION (n.) analysis of metrical verse.

Not really sure what the meaning means.

Finally, if you are wondering what the title of my post means, well, it's a reference to what I'm going to attempt next weekend. My brother, Roman, lives near a resort which features five golf courses and a new hotel, which is running a deal the next few weekends. For $100, you get a night's stay in the hotel and unlimited golf (including cart) for a day. Therefore, next Saturday, Roman and I have a tee-time for 7 a.m. at one course, 12 noon at a second course and 5 p.m. at a third course. The goal is 54 holes in one day, but fatigue and lack of daylight could cost us. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Top Chef over, now I can watch TV again.

HELLO, GOODBYE

2008-03-14T21:41:00.000-07:00

Friends, romans, countrymen, schills: I'm back from hiatus and well . . . I'll start where I should start.

A huge thank you to all fans of FNC and friends of Joe Pendleton for their overwhelming support last week following the death of my father. As I type it in, I still can't believe it happened, and while I won't say I'm in a state of denial, I can clearly say it hasn't sunk in yet.

He was a great dad, a great man, and hopefully I can live up to his reputation. Words cannot express the love, support, and compassion I felt from each and every one of you and it's something I will never forget. They say at times like these, you find out who your real friends are, and I certainly found that out in the last few weeks. Thanks again.

A few weird - beyond the obvious - things from last week. The day my dad's obit ran in the Ledger, the voice of NJ ran a huge story dealing with the lack of funding going to pancreatic cancer research. And then, the night before the funeral, I see on the news that Patrick Swayze has pancreatic cancer. Unreal.

This form of cancer is a real bastard and must be stopped. I know the Joker has done a fine job of raising awareness and money for the PANCAN network, and I will be doing the same. A charity golf outing is in the very, very early planning stages. Stayed tuned.

Now to some other stuff:

-- I took the Pendleton kids to see Horton Hears a Who today, and was in shock, when 85 minutes into the film, I hadn't heard one shitty 80s' tune sung by the computer generated characters. Of course, that all changed when the final sequence of the film featured the whole cast singing REO Speedwagon's "I can't fight this feeling anymore." While I'm a fan of the song and used to sing it about some dame in college I was in love with, but she thought I was "just a friend," it had nothing to do with the plot of film, leaving me quite irritated afterward.

-- Speaking of being irritated, the news of Ike Bruce's departure from the Rams and quick arrival on the 49er roster also has me quite pissed. Follow that up with hiring of a former Rutgers coach as quarterback's coach and I nearly, nearly thought about changing NFL allegiances. As quickly as the Rams went from NFL non-entity to league powerhouse, they have gone back to non-entity status. Maybe a family member of this new coach can become an "Embraceable Ewe," to lift the spirits in St. Louis.

-- The hightlight of the Oscars was when a certainy "actor" was introduced only as Dwayne Johnson. Give me a fucking break.

-- I'm very worried about the Mets. I think Mr. Delgado needs to start hanging around with a certain trainer/congressional witness or we are in big trouble. It's very possible The Sandman could be playing first base in Queens before the end of the year.

-- Not sure what has pissed me off more the last few weeks - this bullshit about Billy Joel playing the last concert at Shea or this Billy Crystal Yankee farce. Speaking of Crystal, I love all these a-holes saying his playing in an exhibition game has ruined the Yankee mystique. I guess numerous admitted HGH/steroid users from their championship teams, a manager who doesn't think guys should play hard in the spring, and ownership giving A-Rod everything he wanted despite his opt-out bullshit didn't hurt the mystique, but Crystal did. Give me a break.

-- Hard to believe that a dame from Belmar is a whore. Shocking.

-- I have no interest in the NCAA Tourney. This could, could be the year I don't fill out a bracket and then sit back and see if I have any interest in the Big Dance at all. The problem is, there are no bad guys. At least with Florida, you had somebody to root against. This year, nothing. Maybe the NCAA should put Bobby Gonzalez in to raise the hatred factor.

Well, that's it for now. The 2007 year in review is still being worked on. The beer count, which was at 0 before Big Blue won the Super Bowl and at 10 after it, has skyrocketed with the events of the last two weeks.

Happy St. Patrick's Day and Easter to all.

Thanks again.

I promise I'll blog before Memorial Day.

WHAT A GREAT 2008

2007-12-29T05:58:00.001-08:00

This blogger has an amazing feature, the ability to look into the future and then blog about it. OK, anyway, instead of predicting what will happen in 2008, let's pretend this is being posted on Dec. 31, 2008 looking back at the year. You get the point.

Dec. 31, 2007 into Jan. 1, 2008 - In a bizarre start to the year, Dick Clark, without any writers to help him, forgets how to count down from 10 to 1, confusing the thousands in Times Square and Ryan Seacrest, who, without writers' help, doesn't know what year it is.

Jan. 3 - The Tonight Show with Jay Leno is cancelled after Leno, also with no writers, tries to do an entire hour-long show of dopey headlines and recycled Michael Jackson jokes. The strike is settled the next day, Leno returns, and then viewers of the Tonight Show go on strike until Leno is booted permanently.

Jan. 5 - Greg Schiano leads Rutgers to a close win in the International Bowl, but after the game he his pressed about rumors he in considering leaving RU to take the St. Louis Rams job. Schiano stays at RU, but only after the school announces plans for a $300 million, 150,000-seat stadium with a retractable roof.

Jan. 6 - Roger Clemens, trying to explain steroid accusations on 60 Minutes, lets it slip that he and Andy Pettitte were more than friends and that Yankee phenom Phil Hughes is actually their child. When asked about this, Pettitte says, "I only did it once."

Feb. 3 - There are mass suicides all over America, as football fans, faced with the dilema of seeing the Pats go 19-0 or the Cowboys winning the Super Bowl, decide to off themselves instead. It's later revealed that Jessica Simpson's halftime show is the reason for the unthinkable death toll. Those that don't take their own lives, actually do it the next day at work when some dopey co-worker starts talking about his favorite commericals from the game.

March 30 - With the season just days away, Omar Minaya finally breaks down, trading Jose Reyes, David Wright, Carlos Beltran and Mike Pelfrey to the Tigers for Kenny Rogers. Citi Field is burned to the ground the next day.

April 1 - After Appalachian State basketball team beats Florida in the NCAA tournament title game, the dopes on ESPN and every other sports network start clamoring for a playoff system in basketball, not realizing they already have one.

June 5 - The New Jersey Devils capture the Stanley Cup, but the celebration is ruined when ESPN's Barry Melrose is stabbed on a Newark street during the victory parade. The suspect is quickly arrested as the 10 fans who actually care about the Devils are the only ones to attend the parade.

July 27 - Bruce Springsteen opens a three-night stint at Giants Stadium, but when he utters his "Is There Anybody Alive Out There," line to start the show, he's stunned by thousands and thousands of empty seats. It is later determined that many folks forgot they even had tickets to the show since they bought them in December. It's also found out later that thousands of Springsteen nerds were hanging around Gate D, hoping to see a set of tits for the first time in their lives.

Sept. 9 - During his opening game with Bound Brook High, Penn State coach Joe Paterno collapses on the sideline. Greg Schiano, in attendance, jumps out of press box and immediately starts coaching the Nittany Lions, who win on a late field goal. Construction on the new Schiano Dome is immediately halted and is quickly changed into a 400-seat gym to host Rutgers mens and women's basketball games.

Sept. 12 - The New England Patriots' season gets off to a rocky start when it's revealved Tom Brady has impregnated every woman in New England.

Sept 22 - Jamie Lynn Spears gives birth to a bouncing baby boy. The next day, Kevin Federline, Larry Birkhead and Howard K. Stern file for custody of the tot.

Oct. 1 - Barry Bonds' head explodes, yet he is able to survive thanks to the second head that has grown out of his back.

Oct. 9 - Rudy Guiliani's push for president get a major boost when he promises voters that if he's elected president, he will convince David Chase to explain the Soprano's ending once and for all. The millions of Americans who are still obsessed with the show say they will vote for him. He looks like a clear winner.

Oct. 10 - David Chase reveals that the entire Soprano family was wiped out in the ending of the show, causing heartbreak all over the country, and Guiliani to give up his bid to be president.

Oct. 11 - James Gandolfini shows up at a campaign rally for Barak Obama, but nobody remembers who he is anymore. Obama drops out, too.

Nov. 5 - In perhaps the most stunning election result in the history of the world, the Sandman is elected president of the United States thanks to a few write-in votes by fans of his blog. As it turns out, the rest of America, faced with the choice of voting for Hillary Clinton or not voting at all, stays home.

Nov. 11 - Joe Pendleton posts his first blog of 2008.

Nov. 25 - Almost one year to the day he debuted on WABC radio, Don Imus collapses on the air. Help doesn't arrive for nearly three days since no one was listening when this happened.

Dec. 18 - Tom Coughlin is fired after the Giants lose their 10th straight to fall to 2-10. Greg Schiano threatens Penn State he will leave unless they build at 120,000-seat stadium. He's reminded that Beaver Stadium already holds 120,000 and that he is free to leave whenever he wants.

Wow, what a year that was. We'll recap 2007 in a few days.

HISTORIC OCCASION

2007-12-27T19:14:00.000-08:00

Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. This is a new post. The first since Oct. 12 and believe it or not, according to the fine folks who run this site, my 100th post. And it took a trip to NYC and Mrs. Pendleton's run-in with some a-hole on the subway to get the blogging juices flowing again.

First, some notes since my last post.

-- I actually made it from Oct. 10 - Nov. 19 without having 1 beer. But then it got all shot to hell, with an open-bar shindig on the 19th, the holidays, christmas hijinks. Still, the 6-week layoff gave me hope that I can go tasteless from Jan. 2 - March 17*

*-I'm pondering a 3-day ski trip to Utah in Feb with my brother and four cousins, so that won't count. Weak yes. But let's be realistic, especially since the odds of me skiing are not great. Therefore, getting loaded in the lodge might be the only thing I can do. Actually, i do plan on skiing, but haven't done it in about 14 years.

-- This Wii thing is the greatest invention those Japanese geniuses ever came up with. I've gotten more exercise the last two nights playing video games than I have the last two months. It's pretty cool. I bowled a 216 yesterday. I feel good about myself.

-- The 42nd birthday is coming up Sunday. Holy shit am I old.

-- Not much planned for New Year's just yet. Maybe some neighborhood tastes. However, I know exactly where I'll be at 1 p.m. on New Year's Day - on the couch, with a taste, watching the Sabres and Pens drop the puck at Ralph Wilson Stadium. Speaking of the NHL, I went to the NHL store in NYC today, and let me tell you, they have to be kidding me. They had a t-shirt with a Winnipeg Jet logo on it. I was fired up to purchase it, until I saw the price tag of $44 dollars. For a fucking t-shirt. Good move by the folks at the NHL - let's overcharge the miniscule fan base to make a few extra bucks. Screw you.

By the way, speaking 2008, the big 2007 lookback and 2008 lookahead are coming in a few days.

Now, the Mrs. Pendleton story. We - along with every other person on the East Coast, decided to take the kids to the Museum of Natural History in the city today (FU Ben Stiller). Our daughter, Georgia, is a huge dinosaur fan, so she was in heaven.

Anyway, we leave the museum, head to 30 Rock to see the tree, and then head for E train back to Penn Station for a NE Corridor train.

We enter the E subway stop at 5th and 53rd, and it features a huge, huge escalator down to the platform. It also features a stair case between the up and down escalator. Anway, it's about 5:30, and the place is packed, so we load the kids on the down escalator. About 15 seconds in, some women comes walking down the escalator, and pretty much brushes by me on the right hand side, prompting Mrs. Pendleton to say, "you know, there's a staircase if you want to walk." The dame keeps going, and some other dude then brushes by us, goes a few more steps and turns and says to Mrs. P. "The way it works is, the right side is for the walkers and the left is for the escalator riders." Mrs. P responds by saying, well, "If you want to walk, use the stairs," and this guy, being a polite asshole, says, "I'm just telling you how it works, because obviously you don't know subway protocol." The which Mrs. P. responds, "Dude, it's the holiday season, it's crowed on the escaltor, use the stairs." The guy, who was about 25 and could have easiliy used the stairs, turns proceeds to walk down the rest of the way. Of course, he got the bottom about 10 seconds before us, where we all proceeded to wait another 10 minutes for the train.

I really felt like going up to the dude and doing one of the following:
A. Punch him in the nose to show Mrs. P I have her back.
B: Point out to him that the subway isn't the only place in the world with escalators, we know the right side walking schtick - hell, I practically invented it. But if there's a staircase right next to it, protocol is out the fucking window.
C: Thank him for directing some of Mrs. P's ire toward him - and away from me - for a few fleeting moments.

Of course, enjoying the whole confrontation, I did nothing but tell Mrs. P how right she was with the hopes of parlaying that into some post museum action. Results still pending.

Well, that's it. Happy 100th post. Happy New Year. Happy International Bowl.

YOUR OWN WORST ENEMY

2007-10-12T20:28:00.000-07:00

My name is Joe Pendleton, and I am an alcoholic. OK, a weekend alcoholic, but an alcoholic nonetheless.

What other conclusion can I draw from last Saturday's trip to Philly to check out Bruce and the boys at the Wachovia Center.

Here's what we'll do. I'll give you a rundown of my day and you can draw your own conclusion. (Some names have been changed to protect the innocent).

1:45: Me and Mrs. Pendleton meet up with the third in our group in Central Jersey and head to Philly armed with a cooler full of tastes and Tastee subs, and believe it or not, low expectations for the show since Slim Steve, who was there the night before, said it was quite dull.

3:00: Roll into the Wachovia Center lot, bang down taste No. 1, and work on taste No. 2 as we head to check out the wristband scene.

3:20: With wristbands and an order to be back in line at 4:20, head back to the Pendleton minivan, where, on our way, we stumble across a young Sqawking VFR lookalike who is wandering around aimlessly and muttering something about leaving his ticket at his hotel.
3:25-:3:45: Have tastes 3-7.

3:46 Ticket dude strolls by with a buddy and asks if he could "buy a beer or two off of us." Now, while I don't have any proof, I like to think I invented this move. Knowing full well nobody is going to charge you for a beer, you ask to buy one, get a freebie and move on. However, ticket dude (he got it back) didn't realize we were the same folks he ran into a just a 1/2-hour ago, so, while giving him and his buddy a free taste, we start doing schtick. They are cool and hang out with us. Not only am I a weekend alchie, I'm also an enabler. So, by the time 4:20 rolls around (the time we have to leave to lineup for a chance to hit the Pit), I'm on taste 11 and these cats are on about 3 or 4.

4:20: Armed with taste No. 12, the five of us head to line up. We line up, and in the meantime, thanks to Jersey Girls suggestion to go on Backstreets.com, I'm able to unload our extra ticket for face value. Thanks JG.

4:40: We realize this wristband thing is gonna take a while, so our third _ who will remain nameless - heads back to the van for more tastes.

4:50: While banging down tastes 13-17, I call work a few times to catch a Texas-OK score (one of the cats was from Texas) and tick off the folks at work. At one point, they ask me how many tastes I've downed, and I tell them 20 or so, which, I thought at the time was an exaggeration, but now I realize how close I was.

5:10: After a false alarm where I had dreams of being in the first row for a Bruce show, we get screwed on the wristband deal, and head back to the van. On the trip back, the third reveals we are now out of beer. OUT OF BEER? Of course, most non weekend alcoholics would've taken the cue right there to stop, but not me. Using a Philly cab driver, we give our two new friends a $20 and orders to bring back more beer. Did you hear me ladies and gentlemen of the jury? A beer run.

5:30: Fearing we've been conned out of $20, the two cats arrive with a 30-pack of Coors Light. After initial complaints about the beer selection, I proceed to down tastes No. 18-24 in the two hours or so (as you can see, I'm slowing down a bit). Of course, the van needing a battery jump due to playing Bruce tunes without the engine running for two hours, may have slowed me down a bit, too.

7:45: With taste No. 25 in hand and No. 26 in my pocket, we start our walk to the show. I think I only had a few sips of 25 and had to dump 26 before entering, but no we are in the show.

8:00: The third brings me a paid-for taste on the floor of the Wachovia Center. We'll call it 26, since I didn't really drink the first 26.

8:20: The show starts, Bruce opens up with Night. It's an early clue that he's not mailing it in like some reported he had the night before. When song No. 4 is Prove it All Night, it's obvious this is gonna be a good one.

9:45: I see Scialfa getting ready to croon, and see this as good chance to unload tastes No. 15-26 from my bladder and get taste N0. 27. On my way up the stairs from the floor, I trip and nearly kill myself. Only my left shoulder saved my noggin from hitting cement. Some dude, also not impressed with Mrs. Springsteen's act, helps me to my feet. Undeterred, I still head for the beer stand. Thankfully, the line for the men's room resembles one you would find at a WNBA game (there is no line) and there's no one on the beer line. After a near stumble down the stairs I almost fell up just minutes ago, I reach the floor, find Mrs. P and the third just in time for Bruce to break into "Incident on 57th Street." Now, I'm really fired up, and since this is the first time he's playing it on tour, I tell everyone around me - most didn't appreciate it - that after this he's gonna let the piano solo roll into Rosalita. Everyone tells me I'm wrong, which turns out to be true.

10:00: With 27 tastes down the hatch, the highlight of the night comes when Bruce pulls an audible and busts into Cadillac Ranch. The joint goes wild.

10:50: After a rockin version of Dancin in the Dark, Bruce breaks into "American Land," which everyone knows is the final tune of the night. About 3 minutes in, me, Mrs. P and the third head for the exit, and see the end of the show right before we head for the door.

11:00: Dilemma time. While I want to bang down a few post-game tastes, Mrs. P and third want to get in the rig (hope it starts) and get out of Philly before we sit in traffic for an hour or two. I figure at this point I've tested Mrs. P's patience, I chug beer No. 28 and hop in the rig.

1:00: We roll back into Casa Pendleton: The ride home is pretty much a blur, the only thing I remeber is rooting against the Phillies on the radio as if they were the Yankees.

8 a.m.: I wake up in the rack alone, with Mrs. P down the hall in our daughter's bed (our kids stayed a grandma's hut).

So there you have it, ladies and genteman of the jury. Now you vote.

One final thing. I never, never, never have tastes Mon-Thurs and Sunday (since I work on Sunday). So most of this activity goes on Fri and Saturday, hence the weekend tag.

By the way, since that show I have not had one beer, and have decided to try and stay dry until Jan. 1

We'll see about that one, since I'm going to two adult b-day parties in the next 3 weeks. When I say adult, I mean adults only, not like porn star parties, though if that were the case, I would certainly stay sober.

Anyway, great Bruce show. Great time.

A few more quickies:

Another shout out to Jersey Girl, and this one really saved me. While chatting with her Saturday morning, I told her how I actually felt bad for Joba in the bug incident. Without any hesitation, she sternly said, "He's a Yankee." You know what, she's right. Thanks for the reality check. Fuck Joba.

As for the Yankees, I'm still debating which team - Mets or Yanks - had a more disappointing season. Afterall, both teams didn't win a division title, both teams were non-factors in October.
From a Mets standpoint, I'm gonna say the Yanks were a bigger disappointment. I mean, it was clear on about Sept. 10 the Mets - even if they had made the playoffs - had no shot of going anywhere. The Yanks, on the other hand, looked like a force heading into the postseason.
Also, the Met loss could actually turn out to be a good thing as Tom Glavine is a goner and I'm sure Omar Minaya will try to overhaul this team in the offseason. The Yanks, on the other hand, will bring back pretty much the same team (A-Rod, Posada, Mariano, Giambi, Mussina, and I think, Torre). It will be more of the same. Plus, none of our announcers cried like blubbering idiots when the team lost (at least on the air, they didn't).

Plus, all Met pain ended with the Phillies getting swept. The Yankee pain will resurface in about 2 weeks, when the Red Sox win their second title in four years.

One more thing on the baseball playoffs. I'm already sick of this Frank TV guy and the show hasn't even started.

A few things Frank:

-- You can't do a Pacino imitation if your 300 pounds. It doesn't work.
-- My daughter can do a Nicholson imitation. It's not hard to do.
-- Your George Bush is great. Who the hell cares.

Cheer up, though Frank, as long as Chip Caray is employed by TBS, there will always be someone more annoying working there.

Well, that's all for now.
Thank you for your time and courtesy.

Let's Go Rangers.

MAN, I HATE BEING WRIGHT

2007-10-01T09:04:00.001-07:00

Well,. the Mets are officially done and if you're a regular reader of FNC, you would've know the weekend after the All-Star break, when this little paragraph appeared on a July 16th post:

One final thing, and you heard it here first on July 16 - THE METS WILL NOT MAKE THE PLAYOFFS THIS YEAR. I hope I'm wrong, but I don't think I am.

You see, I knew back then this team had no guts, no starting pitching, a shitty bullpen and a "we're already in the playoffs" attitude. Had I seen Jose Reyes totally playing the second half of the season like a whiny little baby, I probably would've bet some heavy cash on the Met demise.

You see, the main reason for making that prediction was the Mets' habit of taking games off during the season, not showing up. I went over the schedule last night and I picked out 10-11 games where they completely mailed it in - and this was before the awful skid in September.

Here are the games:

Saturday, April 14: I remember this one, because I listened to most of it in a hotel parking lot with localschill waiting to make a "connection." Mets are in the early going, with a 7-3 record, but they take the day off against the Nationals, falling 6-2. Not a huge loss, but starts the trend of having no killer instict.

Wednesday, April 25: Rockies at Mets: After taking first two games against Colorado, Mets fail to show up for afternoon afair, falling behind 10-0 and eventually losing 11-5. Mike Pelfrey gets shelled again, but Mets, once again, display this "we can give away a game attitude," without any repurcussions. Just think. If we win that game, we're playing today instead of the Rockies.

Sunday, May 20: Yankees at Mets. After winning first two games from reeling Yanks, Mets send John Maine to the hill against Tyler Clippard. Instead of relishing chance to bury cross-town rivals, Mets manage just seven hits and two runs. It's the first of many mail ins.

Sunday, June 3: A day after localschill's wedding, the Mets appear to have been partying all night, getting baffled by Arizona's Doug Davis in a 4-1 defeat. It also starts a string where they will lose 8 of their next 9, including three straight at home to the your NL East champion Phillies.

Sunday, July 1: After taking first three games in Philly, the Mets are primed for a four-game sweep that would put the Phillies away for good. Instead, they can't touch Kyle Kendrick, and fall 5-3. It's the first of 8-straight losses to the Phillies.

Monday, July 16: After taking 3 of 4 from Reds to start second half, Mets are baffled by David Wells in San Diego. This game, where they play as if they don't give two shits, is one that prompted me to predict they wouldn't make the playoffs.

Friday, August. 10: Marlins at Mets: Mets score only three runs against the Fish, and Billy Wagner can't hold a lead in the 9th, as Hanley (fuck the Mets up) Ramirez, delivers two-run double. Who would've thought at this point in the season, that within 6 weeks, not only would Jimmy Rollins be a better NL East shortstop than Joe Reyes, Ramirez would be, too. Anyway, Mets lose the next day, too, with Aaron Heilman giving it up. Two days, two bullpen meltdowns. It's the beginning of the end.

Sunday, Aug. 26: This one really pissed me off. Dodgers at Mets. After taking first two from L.A., Mets are primed for another sweep, but David Wells, who was cut by the Padres two weeks ago and hadn't pitched since, completely baffles the Mets on national TV. 3B coach Sandy Alomar kills any shot at big inning by getting Lastings Milledge gunned down at home in first inning when mets have fatman on the ropes. And David Wright, after doubling in two runs in third, gets picked off second with one out and Beltran at plate.

By the way, Reyes is getting killed for Mets collapse, and rightfully so, but to me, David Wright should take plenty of the blame himself. Sure, he hit for average, but he didn't homer in his last 15 games, his throwing error in Florida with Mike Jacobs running cost us a key game, and his not knowing there was a force play Friday night also killed us.

Weds. Sept. 7: Mets at Reds. After getting swept in Philly, Mets take three in Atlanta and roll over dead Reds for first two games. However, in series finale, Mets do not show up, getting three hits off some guy named Tom Shearn. Think they would like to have this one back.

Of course, after this, Mets come home and sweep the Astros, take two of three from the Braves, before the Phils come in for the weekend series that turned the whole season around.

A few more points, before I put the Mets to bed for until April.

1. If they re-sign Tom Glavine, I will never, never, never, never, never spend another penny on anyting to do with the franchise. I will still root for them, but I figure, if they can't waste their money on that piece of garbage, they don't need mine.

2. My days of watching every pitch, checking the score every five minutes - no matter where I am - are over. The last straw was Sunday. While I stayed home to watch Glavine give us Mets fans one last F-U, my daughter Georgia was not only playign field hockey, but scoring her first goal of the season. Never again will the Mets come first. EVER

3. As I stated above, Jose Reyes takes plenty of the blame for this, but to me, he's the poster boy for their cavalier attitude all season. Let's face it, Carlos Delgado was awful. Paul Lo Duca was awful. Tom Glavine, once he got win No. 300, could've cared less about this season. David Wright had a good year, but any time, at any time of him being an MVP candidate was a joke. He can't throw from first to third. He didn't homer for the first month and last 15 days of the season. He's a great player, but ask yourself this, and be honest. Would you rather have him and Reyes or Utley and Rollins? Think about it.

4. I heard a guy call the FAN last night, and he had a great point. He wondered why is losing unacceptable in the Bronx, but not in Queens? Seriously, when Yanks get off the slow start, it's as if the sky is falling. When we do, it's "oh, it's just the Mets." Well, that's crap. To me, it all started after the 2000 World Series. Instead of cleaning house after watching the Yanks celebrate on their field, the Wilpons went out and passed on A-Rod, signed Kevin Appier to a big deal and allowed Timo Perez and Armando Benitez to continue playing for the franchise.

Do you think George Steinbrenner would've allowed any of this too happen? The mets need to put more pressure on these guys to win. Make it known, losing is unacceptable. If that means, canning Willie, or Minaya. So be it.

That's all for now. And I just have three words to say: LET'S GO RANGERS

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE BASEBALL GODS:

2007-09-26T23:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Gods:

I know this is very busy time of the year for you, with the playoffs starting next week and the pennant races being decided this week, but I just ask for a few minutes of your time to hear me out.

Now you know I've been a very big supporter of your sport. In addition to spending countless dollars on tickets and merchandise over the years, I've also made your sport my top priority throughout my life.

Whenever I'm out at a party or a restaurant, I slip away whenever I can to catch the score. In 1995, while at my friend's wedding, I snuck out into the parking lot to listen to the last inning of the Braves-Indians Game 6. Last year, after getting a precious ticket to the Penn State-Michigan football game from a friend, I sat in the crowd, walkman in my ear, listening to Steve Trachsel quit on an entire city. You also know, on the rare occassion Mrs. Pendleton actually tries to initiate sex, I will stall her until the game is over. When I scored Springsteen tickets for Oct. 6 in Philly, my first thought turned to a potential conflict with a Met playoff game.

Hell, I even named my kid after one of your stadiums - one of your shittier stadiums, too.

Let's face it, baseball is my life. The Mets are my life, a life, that for the most part has been miserable.

Sure, you gave me some great years from 1984-1989, but really, you only gave me one title. Now, I know most franchises don't get any titles, so I appreciate what you did in 1986, but the way I see it, the Mets won that year by a process of elimination. You guys had it all set up to break our hearts once again, but when push came to shove, you couldn't let the Red Sox, or the Astros win. The Mets won by default.

In 1988, you ripped our hearts out and until you gave us Mike Piazza, you made the Mets irrelevant. 2000? Sure, you let us get to the World Series, but you put us right back in our place by having the Yankees spank us in 5. (Thanks for the Game 1 tease, by the way). And last year, well, last year couldn't have been more heartbreaking. Again, you gave us some nice foreplay in the Endy Chavez catch and a Yankee elimination in the first round, but when all Mets fans were about to shoot our loads, you turned on the light, zipped up your pants and sent us home horny.

All of that, however, is nothing compared to what you are doing to me and all Mets fans this year. If you planned all along for us not to make the playoffs, you should've done it the fair way. You know, a season-ending injury to David Wright in June would've been fine, or having the Phillies run away with the division from Day 1 would've been just. But no, you had to suck us in to thinking we were the team to beat, and now, in the waning days of the season, you are going to break our hearts again.

Now, I know me and all Mets fans aren't completely innocent in this. Not only did we start thinking about a World Series title in May, we also starting talking smack regarding the demise of the Yankees. We all knew better, but we couldn't help oursevles. Well, with four games left in the seasons, you've made your point. We realize our mistake.

I, like all Mets fans, know deep down the Yankees are the greatest franchise in baseball and all of sports. I know the playoffs wouldn't be the same without them. I know, whether it's the Babe Ruth trade, or the Bucky Dent HR or this Joba Chamberlain coming out of nowhere, most of you are Yankee fans. I get it. I really do. I bow to the wild-card winning Yankees.

So, please, I ask you, can you just give our Mets a little break? Could you give Pedro Martinez a litttle something extra tonight? Could you give Billy Mota just one call on the outside corner. Could you let one of Jose Reyes' pop flys fall in? Could you just once, let Carlos Delgado's bat actually hit the ball? Could you give William Wagner a set of nuts, for just one weekend? I mean, do you really want the Phillies or the Rockies in the playoffs? The last time the Phillies made it, they let a team from Canada - CANADA - win the Series. Think about it.

Finally - and this is not a threat, rather a fact of life - I will tell you should the Mets not make the playoffs this year, I'm done with you and your game. Yes, I will always follow the Mets, but the days of going out of my way to watch them or check on a score will be over. The days of blowing off my kids to watch a day game in June against the Diamondbacks will be done. I will listen to music on the radio, I will sleep at night, I will have sex with my wife win or lose. I will, well, get my life back. But I'd much rather have a playoff spot. It's up to you.

Thanks again for listening. And remember, Let's Go Mets.

Sincerely, Joe Pendleton.

P.S.: If you get a chance, see what the NFL gods can do about the Rams.

P.S.S: If the Mets don't make it, do your best to remind everyone that on a July 16 blog entry by me, I said the Mets wouldn't make the playoffs.

SHORT AND LONG OF IT

2007-08-05T19:20:00.001-07:00

Well, the first FNC road trip was a big success.

With $1.50 drafts flowing like shitty keg beer at the Shorty Long show in Seaside, the beer count hit about 25 (for the night). Thankfully, honest Joey Belotti had a beach house and sofa for me to crash on and some place called the Steak Exchange was open at 3:30 a.m. dealing out incredible cheese steaks and fried balls of cheez whiz.

A great time was had by the tw of the three Pendleton brothers (Deiter and Marshall).

And let me tell you, Shorty was on fire. A great show, a great time. Sorry, all FNC fans couldn't make it. We'll have another road trip soon.

Not much else to report. I was happy to hear John Sterling blow the call on A-Rod's 500th homer. Not sure where you can hear it, but make every effort too. In the biggest homer of the season, the cat totally shit the bed. What an a-hole.

Anyway, the Pendletons are heading down the Shore next week, so this could be my last post for awhile.

BAR NONE

2007-07-30T23:23:00.000-07:00

Ok, here it is, my top 10 favorite bars of all time. Some are gone, some I haven't been to in years, but all were important in my development as a lush, drunk, weekend alcoholic - whatever you pick. Some also played a huge part in my life. So without further ado, here wer go:

10. Sharky's - Venice, Florida
A great outdoor bar on the water gives you a perfect spot to watch the sunset, but its best feature is the frozen drinks. You see, they have a sign up that says you will be cut off after just two frozen drinks because they are so strong. And let me tell you, they are. How much do I love this place? While honeymooning with Mrs. Pendleton, we drove about 2 hours from Clearwater Beach, Fla. to this place just to get there again. Someone told me a few months ago it was closed down, but website says otherwise. If you are ever in the area, go there. Mrs. Pendleton says they have the best ribs ever.

9. Goal Post, Scotch Plains, New Jersey
This is perhaps the most important bar in my life as it's where I met Mrs. Pendleton. It was also one of the first sports bars ever. Before meeting Mrs. P there, I would enjoy the Tuesday night bikini contents. My other famous story from that place is a night my friend The Knocker and I went there. That afternoon we had gotten wrist bands for the Rolling Stones show at Shea Stadium in 1989, with tickets going on sale the next day. Well that night, we went to the GP, with the Knocker driving and me drinking. Well, as we are getting ready to leave, the Knocker meets some dame who is not only totally into him, she also needs a ride home. So within seconds, I went from being the drunk to the driver. So while I'm navigating my way back to Metuchen New Jersey, he's in the backseat of his car, letting his fingers do the walking on the broad. I mean, from my view through the rearview mirror, his entire hand was up her skirt and maybe even further. So not only am I worrying about getting pulled over, I'm also worried about him losing the wristband up there. Well, we made it home OK and got tickets to the show.

8. Leggetts, Manasquan, New Jersey:
Had this list been compiled in 1989, this may have been No. 1 for a few reasons. First, there's nothing like strolling off the beach and walking into a nice air-conditioned joint for a cold taste. Also, for some reason back then, it didn't really attract the usual a-holes you find down the shore, but did attract beautiful babies.

But the No. 1 reason it's on the list is because this joint helped me make the most important decision of my life. In the summer of 1989, my brother and his buddies had a beach house for 4th of July week in Manasquan. Well, I was invited, along with the dame I was seriously dating in college for about three years. How serious? For her college graduation, I gave her a claddagh ring, which was interpreted as a pre-engagment ring. Well, anyway, as the trip to Manasquan neared - a trip I wouldn't be able to pull off without bringing her along - it really hit me that I would have much more fun at Leggetts and Manasquan without her. And it hit me, that I shouldn't be feeling that way about someone who I may be spending the rest of my life with. So, on about July 1, 1989, I pulled the plug on the relationship, and along with Knocker, headed to Manasquan for 2 days of non-stop drinking and dame chasing. Thanks Leggetts for making me see the light.

7. Knight Club, New Brunswick, NJ: Long before Greg Schiano turned RU into a football school, this dive was the best thing the Hub City had to offer. In the summer of 1989 it was my home office on Tuesday nights. The reason? $2 pitchers. My and the aformentioned Knocker would head there, drink a bunch, talk to dames also enjoying the $2 pitchers, do some dancing and after sobering up at Campus Pizza, drive back to our respective Middlesex County towns. I knew it was time to stop going there when one night I met some dame, got her phone number and was getting set to call her. However, since i couldn't really remember what she looked like, I called the Knocker first to see if I should and he politely told me to lose the phone number as fast as I could.

6. Dalina's, Fords, NJ: This was the hangout for me and my cronies at my first real newspaper gig. A perfect mix of dive bar and great bar. It wasn't a place to pick up dames, rather it was just a good drinking bar. It's also the place where I watched Stephane Mattieu score the biggest goal in NY Rangers history (sorry, LS) and it's was holding karyoke nights before there was karyoke. It's now turned into a family diner, but everytime I drive by it, I get a little sentimental. And, it was in this bar that Jim McGreevey gave me a free weiner. (he was the mayor of Woodbridge at the time and he was handing out free hot dogs during a Tommy Morrison fight.)

5. South River Pub, South River, New Jersey. In my young, impressionable years, this was, by far, my favorite bar. It had it all. Cheap drinks, cheap women, great tunes, and perhaps the best bar gimmick ever - 5 days before and after your birthday, all your drinks were a quarter. That promotion helped earn Mrs. Pendleton earn an engagment ring, as on my 26th birthday, she gave me a roll of quarters for a gift and shuttle service too and from the SR Pub, which resulted in me barfing in her parents' ice bucket that night. It was the place to go the night before Turkey Day. It was the place to go every Thursday night. The only downfall was its narrow walkways, so going to take a squirt could take hours.

4. Dresden Room, West Hollywood, Calif. Long before Swingers made this joint famous, this was one of my all-time favorites. It has that old school Hollywood feel, and of course, the world famous Marty & Elayne (right) as the entertainment (they were the couple singing Staying Alive in Swingers). I've only been there about 2-3 times, but everytime I go it's a blast. It's sort of the place to go before going out.

3. Shandygaff, State College, Pa. - Okay, localschill, as much as I like to bust your chops about Penn State football, this place is the only reason I make my annual pilgrimage to the middle of nowhere. Honestly. On a college football saturday you can watch about 20 games, drink tons of beer while John Cash's 'Ring of Fire" blasts over the speaker system. And then, when the sun goes down, it becomes sort of an 70's and 80's dance club (they bang out Dancin' Queen about 3 times a night). Of course, by then, you are dealing with most of the drunken a-hole PSU students, who start requesting hip-hop crap that the DJ plays, but usually by then, I'm ready to call it a night anyway. Still, if this place closes down, it's no more PSU football for me. Well, actually, I'll just find another joint.

2. The Sawmil, Seaside Park, NJ: How much did I love this bar? It has a day named after it. From 1992-1998, me, the Knocker and Gerry B would designate the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend "Sawmill Day." We would leave Central Jersey around 10 a.m. and make a bee-line for this little dive on the Seaside Heights boardwalk to kick off the summer in style. The reason we picked this place? It was the only bar we could find that served Mickey's Big Mouths. Every year, the bartender would dust off the green grenade bottles and get us going. The tradition ended in 1998, when after an entire day of celebrating the Mike Piazza trade, we had to find a way home. We made it, but pledged that the following year, we would have to find a place to stay. Well, the Professor provided that place, but it was about 35 miles North in Belmar, and a free place to stay won out over awful tasting Malt Liquor in green bottles. To me, this place no longer exists. Oh sure, it's still there. But what was once a little corner bar, has turned into a huge place with an adjoining dining room, and - get this - a kid's menu. Adios Sawmill. We had a blast.

By the way, speaking of Seaside, remeber the first annual FNC road trip is this Thursday, Aug. 2 at the Beachcomber for the Shorty Long & The Jersey Horns Show.

1. Hange Uppe, Chicago, Ill. As much as I love the previously mentioned 9 joints, this one is by far, head and shoulders above all of them. I sometimes wonder if the cats that own this joint tapped into my brain when they were creating it. Oldies music, friendly midwestern dames, endless supply of Old Style beer, and a closing time of about 5:30 a.m. A block off Chicago's overrated Rush & Division streets is the greatest bar in America. My dream scenario: It's 3 a.m., I have an ice-cold Old Style longneck in my hand, Carl Douglas' Kung Fu Fighting is playing and I'm leering at some college dames on the dance floor. I roll out of the joint about 5 bells. Get back to my hotel, get about 4 hours of sleep and head to Wrigley for a day in the bleachers. Or in the case of my last trip there, got in the car for the 3 hour drive to Lambeau for Jets-Pats. Anyway, if you are ever in Chicago hit this place on a Friday or Saturday night and they may have to drag you out of there.

Well there it is. Hope to see you all THursday night.

Stephon

2007-07-26T23:59:00.001-07:00

Not sure if all of you out here have seen this already, if not, watch the whole thing and enjoy, Pretty damn funny. Tell me this dude's not on something

LET'S GO NORFOLK STATE

2007-07-18T23:59:00.000-07:00

I promise this post is not designed to get Localschill and the Joker and all other Rutgers football schills out there wound up. I promise.

About a week ago, I was talking to a relative who lives in Arizona and I made tentative plans to visit her around New Year's Eve. The main reason for the trip would to see my beloved St. Louis Rams play at the Cardinals on Dec. 30, which happens to be my 42nd birthday. Also, the Coyotes are hosting the Lanche that the night before, and of course, New Year's Eve in 85 degree weather would also be nice.

And I also plan on staying out there for the Jan. 3 Fiesta Bowl.

So I started thinking about the possibility of my beloved Fighting Irish making that game, but after looking at their schedule, I realize there's little shot of them getting a BCS bid this year. You judge for yourself.

NOTRE DAME SCHEDULE
09/01/07 vs. Georgia Tech
09/08/07 at Penn State
09/15/07 at Michigan
09/22/07 vs. Michigan State
09/29/07 at Purdue
10/06/07 at UCLA
10/13/07 vs. Boston College
10/20/07 vs. USC
11/03/07 vs. Navy
11/10/07 vs. Air Force
11/17/07 vs. Duke
11/24/07 at Stanford

Pretty brutal. They play the first 8 weeks in a row, two games against legit National Champion teams (Michigan, USC). Back-to-back road games at Penn State and Michigan. 4 straight games against Big 10 schools (3 on the road). Two games against better ACC teams, and they close out the stretch with USC (perhaps the best team in the country) at home. Sure, after that, they get Navy, Air Force and Duke at home, but by they, they are sure to have at least two losses, pretty much taking them out of BCS contention.

Then I started wondering what the mighty Scarlet Knights schedule looked like, and I couldn't believe what I found:

Thursday, August 30 vs. BUFFALO
Friday, September 7 vs. NAVY
Saturday, September 15 vs. NORFOLK STATE Homecoming
Saturday, September 29 vs. MARYLAND
Saturday, October 6 vs. CINCINNATI
Saturday, October 13 at Syracuse
Thursday, October 18 vs. SOUTH FLORIDA
Saturday, October 27 vs. WEST VIRGINIA
Saturday, November 3 at Connecticut
Friday, November 9 at Army
Saturday, November 17 vs. PITTSBURGH
Thursday, November 29 at Louisville

Let's review:
-- Their first five games, and seven of their first 8, are at home.

-- They play 8 home games out of 12 total games.

-- They have a week off to recover from their big homecoming game with Div. I-AA Norfolk State.

-- Until they play at Louisville the last week of the season, the farthest trip they make is to Syracuse, with the other two road games at Army and UConn.

-- They won't play a ranked team until Oct. 27

-- They get 11 days off before their toughest game of the year in Louisville.

I know the schedule is made years ahead of time, but let's be honest, this is a joke. 75% of their games at home. Buffalo, Norfolk State.

All I'm saying is there is no excuse for this team not to get a BCS bowl this year. None. If they somehow finish less than second in the Big East this year, they should be ripped. But of course, they will be celebrated as another feel-good story. But honestly, even the Joker and Localschill must agree, nothing but a BCS berth is acceptable this year.

All they have to do is go 2-1 against Pitt, Louisville and Wva to do it and not lose to any of these other patsies on the schedule.

While I'll expect them to be 7-0 heading into the WVA. game, it will be funny to see how quickly the bandwagon empties if they lose 1 or 2 of those first seven games.

Also, if the season falls apart, what will happen first:
A. Plans to expand stadium to 53,000 seats will be shelved.
B. Greg Schiano will be in the middle of Pennsylvania wearing blue and white
C. Reps for the Charlotte Bowl will cancel their trip to Piscataway
D. All of the above.

List of bars coming soon.
By the way, don't forget the first annual FNC Fanclub trip is less than a month away. It's Aug. 2 at the Beachcomber in Seaside Heights to see Shorty Long and the Jersey Horns.

Beer count already in triple digits.

TIP OIF THE ICEBERG

2007-07-16T15:04:00.000-07:00

The top 10 favorite bar list is taking more time than I thought. It's an intense selection process, so it may be a few more days before it's posted.

In the meantime, a few thoughts from FNC.

I went to an ice cream place the other day and on the counter was a tip jar that said something to the effect of "college tuition fund." Naturally, being the sucker I am, I dropped all of my spare change in there and left.

Of course, the more I thought about it, the more I got wound up.

First of all, if you a really trying to save up and go to college, get something better than working in an ice cream place. I mean mow lawns in the heat for the summer or work road construction.

Second, if you need my spare change to pay for college, you got some huge problems.

Anyway, it really got me thinking about this whole tipping thing. Remember when I got screwed by the fridge repairman? Well, since then and this ice cream thing, I've taken a whole new approach _ NO TIPPING EXCEPT FOR WAITERS, WAITRESSES AND BARTENDERS and DELIVERY PEOPLE.

First, I'll explain why I'll tip those four: As for waiters and waitresses, I used to work at a Bennigans, and I know that's about 90% of their income. Plus, they are making sure you get your order right and your food on time. As for bartenders, I'm generally against tipping them, especially when all I get usually is a bottle of beer, but let's be honest, if you don't tip a bartender - especially at a busy bar - you could get shutout and that sucks. As for delivery dudes, thanks to them I get to sit on my ass, so what's a nickel or two?

Now, here's my take on other places:

Why is there a tip jar at Starbucks & Dunkin Donuts, but not one at McDonald's? Honestly, what the difference between going to Starbucks and getting a coffee or going to McDonald's and getting a soda from the drive-thru? It's the same thing.

As for food places. One night, Mrs. Pendleton and I got take out from Carraba's or something like that and when she got back from picking up the food, I asked her is she tipped the guy who handled the order. Her response, "Do you tip the person when you pick up Chinese food?" I didn't have to answer the question.

As for other service workers, a question, Have you ever considered tipping the dude who pumps your gas? Of course not, so why should you tip anyone else? Do you tip the dude at the supermarket deli who cuts the cheese for you (sorry, I couldn;'t resist)? Of course not.

That's all for now. I have to go tip the deliver dude.

One final thing, and you heard it here first on July 16 - THE METS WILL NOT MAKE THE PLAYOFFS THIS YEAR. I hope I'm wrong, but I don't think I am.

Bar list coming soon.

Beer count off the charts,

18 AND LIFE

2007-07-03T23:46:00.000-07:00

With the Simpson's movie coming out at the end of the month, many 7-11s across the country have changed into Quik-E-Marts for July. I think it's funny, clever promotion, but as a huge fan of 7-11, I hope it only lasts for the month.

My love affair with 7-11 began in high school, picked up steam in college, and became practically a marriage in the 90s. How serious was it? Let's just say from about 1991 to 2002 I averaged about 2-3 Super Big Gulps A DAY. Yes, I was addicted to soda, mostly diet soda. I never drank coffee, had an occassional tea, but my fuel of choice was diet pepsi and tons of it. Someone even nicknamed me "18" (7 + 11), due to the face I always, ALWAYS, had a SBG cup in my hand.

Well, that love affair ended a few years ago when I did some research on the sweetener in diet soda, something called aspartamane. Most of the stories I read mentioned brain tumors as a result of too much aspartamane. NOt sure if it's true, but when I quit diet pepsi one day cold turkey, I had an intense migraine for about 14 hours. I couldn't even get out of bed, it hurt so bad.

Lately, I've had a few big gulps - maybe about 1-2 a week - and when the Simpsons promotion started this week, I got to thinking about my 10 favorite 7-11s on the planet. So here they are, in order.

10. SOMEWHERE IN NEBRASKA: Not sure if this one even exists, but it's the 7-11 Jim Carrey comes out of in "Dumb and Dumber." As he's walking out of the store, he says to a group of kids, "Alright guys, Big Gulps." Great line. And since I was a huge Big Gulp fan at the time, I also said someday I would get to that 7-11. Someday I will.

9. STORE #11452. EDISON, NJ: This one was crucial as it was right across the street from my softball team's home field back in the early 90s. It was a Sunday morning league in the summer and nothing beats a hangover than 96 oz. of diet pepsi.

8. STORE #32414: EDISON, NJ: This could be No. 1 on Localschill's list as it is right by his hut. It's very close to the Menlo Park Mall, but more importantly, it's right across the street from my favorite White Castle. Nothing like a sack of rats and a double gulp to get the blood and smelly gas flowing.

7. No. 23655: SEASIDE HEIGHTS, NJ: One hint for all you youngsters out there, unless you want your stomach to catch fire, don't chug Dr. Pepper into a stomach filled completely with beer and nothing else.

6. STORE NO: 11446: SOMERVILLE, NJ: This Somerset County headquarters of the Southland Corporation is one of about 4 reasons I survived three years at Gannet's Bridgewater franchise. When I needed a shot of energy on my way to work, I stopped there. When I needed to escape the madness, I went there. When certain miserable fucks were driving me nuts, I could send him, I mean them, there to get them out of my hair for a few minutes.

5. NO. 25398: BELMAR, NJ: Nothing like getting a big gulp while some chick in a bikini is right next to you banging down a slurpee. No morning after in Belmar was complete without a stop here. If I recall, their Big Gulp selection was also top notch.

4. STORE NO. 10977: EWING, NJ: The love affair really took flight in this little beauty within walking/stumbling disance of Trenton State College. The usual Thursday night treat would consist of a Super Big Gulp and a pack of Hostess Suzy Qs. Add to that mixture about 15 cans of Meister Brau and you got yourself a party.

3. STORE NO. 27877: ROSELLE, NJ: This is the store that spawned the 18 nickname. While coaching a high school hoops squad nearby, I would stop here everyday before and after practice. I got so bad that the dudes who worked there actually knew me by name.

2. STORE NO. 24608: SOUTH PLAINFIELD, NJ: Ah, the home base. I can't remember how many times in high school I would go here for a big gulp and a chipwich (as you can tell, I didn't get laid much then). I would say of all the big gulps I've had in life, about 70% have come from this store. I was just there today. It's not the best store of the bunch, not even close, but it's mine.

AND AT NO. 1

NO. 21087: CHICAGO, ILL.: The adress is 3554 N. SHEFFIELD AVE, the location is about 1 block from Wrigley Field. I've only been to this one about 3-4 times, but I still dream about it. How's this for a dream scenario. Roll into this one around noon, fill up a double gulp cup with soda, grab a 99 cent doggie and some chips, and roll across the street into the bleachers at Wrigley. That was about 16 years ago. I'm sure the a-holes that run the Cubs no longer let you bring Big Gulps into the park, but for that one glorious day, they did, and that's all that matters.

And there it is. Coming next week, my 10 favorite bars on the planet.

A few other things:

I took the kids to Wendys yesterday and the toy in the happy meal was a kid's audio book. What a shitty prize. Anyway, my kids wanted to listen and the story was about this dude named Arthur who has a show on PBS. Well, after this lame story ended, some other guy comes on to read the credits, and guess who the reader of the book was: None other than Mark Linn Baker (aka Cousin Larry from Perfect Strangers). Nice to see his career is still doing well.

Finally, congrats to Greg Schiano. As the picture below will prove, It appears I'm now the only person on the planet who isn't fooled by his soft schedule and bogus bowl win.

CUTTING COMMENTARY

2007-06-18T18:30:00.001-07:00

Well, leave it to your local hard-core barber to put things in perspective.

While getting one of my 5 budgeted haircuts for the year last week, I was in the barber chair, and of course any cat knows when you get in the barber chair, salty language and talk of current events is not only expected, it's required.

Well, all I needed to do to get the cat going was mention Paris Hilton and her jail controversy.

And he proceeded with a rant about "assholes" getting all upset about that c-word and whether or not she's going to jail and the end of the "fucking" Sopranos, but there's still a war going on and nobody seems to "give a shit" about that.

I was with the cat, until he started going into a rant about how great Rudy Guiliani would be for this country. I pretty much just sat there and let the dude trim my locks, and then chimed in that he should run for office. And said something to the effect of, "you have to be a fucking millionaire" to get elected in this country. Again, I was back with him.

Dude gives a pretty good hair cut, too.

BREAKING NEWS: As I sit here typing, Carlos Beltran just got a hit.

Some other notes:
Beer count continues to skyrocket, and there's no end in sight.

Last Wednesday, I coached daughter Georgia's softball finale, and at the end of the year ice cream shindig, one of the moms of the kids on the team gave me a six pack of Coors Light. Now, that's certainly not my favorite beer - not even close - but hell, it was free, and you know my slogan, "if it's free, it's for me." Anyway, that night, while watching the mets get their asses kicked for a third straight night at Dodger Stadium, I banged down a few silver bullets.

On Friday night, I took Georgia to a father/daughter girl scout dance. Of course, I had a great time, and was able to keep my mind off the goings on in the Bronx for most of the night. I got home just in time to see William Wagner close it out and at that moment it dawned on me that my mood depends a lot on the fortunes of 25 millionaires who call themselves the Mets. It's really sad, really. I mean all last week I was in a shitty mood, but from about 10 p.m. Friday til about 3:30 Saturday, I was on top of the world.

I wonder if David Wright is cranky on days I have a rough night at work.

Anyway, back to the beer count: I had about 2 on Friday watching the replay of the mets-Yanks game, and then about 12 Saturday at Joe. Sr.'s house for a little Father's Day Shindig.
And now I find out the softball team I toil on will play a Saturday night double header with a kegger to follow at the Knights of Columbus Hall.

I'll do my best to keep count.

Sorry for the lack of schtick here, I just figured I'd weigh in. Look for some sort of music list at the end of the week or early next week. I'm pondering listing the 10 most underrated bands, since the overrated list created quite a stir.

Let's go Mets . . . please.

WHAT A MAROON

2007-06-13T00:25:00.000-07:00

Most people that know me would say that I - when not drunk - am a pretty nice guy. I'm rarely rude (again, while not drunk), and I'm not confrontational. Sure, when loaded I tend to stir it up and harp on things (like a "Yankee fan" not knowing Babe Ruth's No. 1 or arguing that Fletch is not the funniest movie of all time), but when sober, I'm pretty low key.

Well, after two incidents this week, I say No More Mr. Nice Guy.

The first:
While picking up a cable box at my local provider Monday, I was just finishing up with the dame behind the counter and I said "have a good day." She quickly responded, "You have a better one." At first I was impressed with her snappy retort, but as I headed for the door, I realized that she was ripping me in one of two ways.

She was either taking a shot at my hollow, standard "Have a nice day," by hitting me with an umcommon response, or - and I think this is it - she was ripping me for only wishing her a good day. As if what I wished her wasn't good enough, and she therefore had to wish me a better day than the one I wished her. I felt like walking back to the desk and saying "I hope you have a shitty day," but I didn't care that much. Until...

Fans of FNC know all about the Pendleton fridge situation, well, the repairman - after several unreturned calls to him by me and a call to the store manager where I bought my extended warranty - finally showed up at my hut this morning to put a new compressor in there. Well, he was in my house about 90 minutes working pretty hard, so my "should I tip him" alarm starting going off. After consulting with Mrs. Pendleton, I decided to slip the cat a 10 spot on the way out the door. And, feeling some gratitude that the dude fixed my fridge, I hooked him as he walked about my front door.

Well, I go back in my house and see that he left a medium-sized, yet heavy box behind. I pick it up, lug it to the front door and say to him, "I think you left this here." He says "that's just garbage," gets in his car and drives away. What it was was the old compressor, which I now have to deal with. Had young Kurt Price not been in the house alone, I might've handed the box to the dude and demanded my 10 beans back. However, with the shitty way fridges are being made these days, I may need the dude back in a few years, so I let it go. But this day I swear no more Mr. Nice Guy. No holding the door for dames at the mall or at work - unless they are hot, no more letting people cut in front of me in traffic, no more covering my mouth when I sneeze.

-- Well, everyone with a keyboard has weighed in on the Sopranos finale, so I will, too. But with a totally different take. While I was first appalled that they would chose Journey to end the show, I was convinced by Sandman and Jerseygirl it was a good choice.

But it started me thinking, when there's a TV show 20 years from now, what song from this day and age would it chose to end it? And then I realized, there's not one song from this day and age that will stand the test of time that Don't Stop Believing did, or 1,000,000 other songs from the 60s', 70's and 80's would've. Honestly, ask yourself, have there been any popular rock songs (not some album cuts ) I mean real rock songs, or even popish rock songs that will be listened to 20 years from now. I can't think of any. Honestly.

I know the music biz has changed with FM radio becoming a medium with a future worse than that of newspapers, and with I-pods and I-tunes and all that crap, but really, have you heard a song that you can say will stand the test of time?

A lot of this stems from a few weeks back, when my neighbor was blaring his I-pod which featured "current hits" from Maroon 5 and Jim Blunt. I know they are huge acts, but if you ask me, you have to grow a vagina before listening to that stuff. I seriously wonder what my kids will be playing for their kids in 20 years. Honestly, I think stuff like Journey and Bruce and Zeppelin from 20-30 years ago has a better shot than the shit being churned out today. Honestly.

--- Quick stat: The Mets are 1-8 and the Yanks are 8-1 since Localschill got married. Thanks LC for throwing the earth of its axis.

-- Finally, plans of a low summer beer count have already been and will continue to be sabotaged by several different factors. First of all, after taking my kids to the local pool Friday, I decided I needed a taste to take the edge off. Only a broken fridge kept me from getting bombed, as I only had three in the emergeny cooler. Saturday, I wasn't planning on drinking, as I had to work a game booth at the local church fair. Well, after dealing with pimple-faced teens spending countless dollars trying hard to win their slutty girlfriends stuffed animals worth about 30 cents, I needed a few, and headed to the local bar afterward with my brother. I had 5 at the bar and one when I got home. Finally, Monday night, I got to test out my new backyard furniture, and wouldn't you know it, my neighbor of the shitty music and a fridge full of beer in his garage shows up with a few. I only had three, so the beer count stands at 12 after one week.

The other factors that will hurt the beer count:
-- The emergency fridge I bought on Saturday has now been moved to the garage, where it's sole purpose will be to keep tastes on hand and nearby.

-- We are having a big family party in LBI in early July and the family throwing it, well, they enjoy tastes and meriment almost as much as I do. Need proof? My one cousin who will be there, at my wedding, took the disposable camera every table was equipped with into the can where he took a nice shot of package. Needless to say, when I was looking at all the photos with my new bride and mother-in-law, we got a nice shock.

-- I have no self-control, especially when it comes to tastes.

-- The shitty play of the Mets would drive anyone to drink.

-- The kids are out of school starting next week. Beer count could be in the hundreds by end of June.

Sorry about the long post, had a lot to say. I mean, if you don't like, go fuck yourself.

.

WHEN THE SANDMAN CRIES

2007-06-06T23:45:00.000-07:00

Many months back, I blogged about how underrated a foot can be. You take it for granted, but when it hurts, you realize how valuable it is. I learned that lesson on Memorial Day weekend, when, while stumbling around my house drunk, I stepped on one of my kids' toys and cut the bottom of my foot.

In addition to taking heat from Mrs. Pendleton, who had to clean up the bloody carpet the next morning, I had to deal with about 5-6 days of every other step I took being extremely painful. It really hurt. Now, I know I sound like a huge puss, but hey, it friggin hurt. It did teach me a very valuable lesson, though. If I'm gonna drink and pass out down stairs, I should at least be wearing flip-flops.

Fortunately, my foot was fully healed for last Saturday's Localschill nuptuals. Let me tell you, it was a great time. In addition to seeing Localschill get married twice in the course of 5 hours, I got to do schtick with the Sandman, Jersey Girl, the Joker, the Professor, Squawking VFR, Localschill and of course, the Colonel (aka Boba Frets).

What's scary is, besides Localschill, we were all the same table, and had quite a blast. The Professor pretty much held court. It was a great time.

Speaking of the Sandman and the Colonel, I'm sorry to hear that White Lion has been removed from the big Ratt/Poison summer tour due to legal issues. I know you were looking forward to it. Anyway, though you'd enjoy this shot of some nutty cats playing air guitar, air drums and air keyboards at the wedding (Note: The faces have been covered up to protect their identities.)

Surprisingly, the beer count did not skyrocket at the wedding as I thought it would. There are two reasons why it didn't. First of all, I had to play two games of softball on Sunday morning at 9 bells and then head to Shea Stadium to see the Mets mail it in. (Believe it or not, I accomplished both). Also, with the Pendleton children sleeping at grandma's hut that night, I figured if I stayed mostly sober, I might have a shot with the Mrs. and an empty hut. Let's just say, I spent the rest of the night trying to do what the Professor tried to do to himself years ago.

Speaking of my hut, we've been without a fridge for about a week as I wait for the repairman to get a part. Like a foot, a fridge is very underrated. However, I'm taking the breakdown of my Magic Chef as a sign to stop drinking again, as I lost about 25 bottles of beer in the fridge malfunction. And since the beer count is such a popular deal (and I've lost count since Jan. 1), I'm gonna start a summer beer count, retroactive to last Monday (6/3). So right now, the count is at O. I'm so fired up for this, I'm about to book a beach house in Ocean City, NJ, which has no bars in town. Also, I'm working on the 4th of July and have no weddings planned. The killer day could be Aug. 2, which I'll remind everyone is the big FNC outing to the Beachcomber is Seaside Heights to see Shorty Long and the Jersey Horns.

Speaking of Seaside Heights, this line appeared in a Star-Ledger story today about a sewage spill in Monmouth county. I just wonder, was the writer referring to the sludge or a-holes who tend to flock to the shore from North Jersey and Staten Island. Here's the graph:

If it had been raw sewage, there would have been large grease balls washing up on shore, Simmons said. "It would have been a mess," he said.

Anyway, the goal is to keep the count under 100 by Labor Day. No shot you say, we'll see.

Finally, can someone please tell my why Julio Franco is still on the Mets.

Thank you for your time and courtesy.

THE OBSTRUCTED VIEW

2007-05-25T00:06:00.001-07:00

Ok, it took me longer than I promised to get back, but here I am.

Most of my shows are done for the season, except The Shield, which is the best show on TV, so I have plenty of free time to empty the thoughts that run around my demented brain onto my keyboard.

Here goes:

-- I was walking out of work tonight and someone wished me a "Happy Memorial Day." I said thanks and wished the same to them, but the more I thought about it, Memorial Day shouldn't be happy at all. Rather, we should take the day off to reflect on those who gave their lives for our freedom. It's sort of like seeing someone on Sept. 10 and saying, "Hey, have a great 9/11."

That being said, I plan on spending Monday getting totally bombed and then watching the Ducks and Sens battle it out in Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals. If I see cat in uniform, I'll thank him. Still, I wonder, what an old-time veteran must think when he sees people having Memorial Day parties or stores having Memorial Day sales. He must get really pissed.

-- Something was proven this week on TV. You know the old bullshit where some guys say they would rather have an intelligent dame over a dumb one, well like me ask you this question, if you have to spend the weekend with either Elisabeth Hasselbach or Rosie O'Donnell, who would you pick? I rest my case. I mean, I've seen men who are more attractive than Rosie

-- Speaking of hot chicks (no, not Rosie), there is a huge billboard for the Fantastic Four on a building near work, and it features about a 15-story image of Jessica Alba. As someone who else saw the ad say, "the movie should be called the Fantastic Two." God blymie.

-- I have to admit I have never been a huge Led Zeppelin guy, until know. About 3 weeks ago I was in the SP public library and saw LZ 2 sitting in the bin. I decided to take it home and let me tell you, I am now a full-fledged Zeppelin fan. And it's not just me, as young Kurt Pendleton has to be the only 4-year-old in his preschool to know all the words to the Immigrant Song (no lie, he does).

-- I'm already pumped for the Brian Leetch jersey retirement ceremony at the Garden. Cat had a great quote about what he thinks his legacy should be. His quote, "As long as they remember I was Ranger, that's good enough for me." Class act.

-- Is their a dumber human being on the planet (besides Hasselbach), than Jason Giambi. Not only does he open his mouth about doing steroids, but on the day he has to go to MLB's offices to explain his words amid a report that he failed a test for amphetamines, he shows up drinking a Red Bull. I would never wish any ill health on anyone, but it's gonna be real interesting in about 8-9 years when all these athletes who have abused steroids start dropping dead one-by-one.

-- Finally, the beer count is nearing triple digits already, and with localschill's nuptuals next weekend, it could hit 4 digits by the All-Star break. Speaking of the all-Star break, how great is it going to be when Roger Clemens shits the bed every fifth day? As if there is not enough reasons to hate the Yankees.

Thanks for your patience, I promise I'll be back soon, maybe after a wonderful and joyous Memorial Day weekend.

HIATUS OVER

2007-05-10T11:29:00.000-07:00

Since all of my prime-time shows are winding down this week and with the New York Rangers finished for the season, blogging will resume on this web site sometime this weekend.

I apologize to all my fans for the huge layoff.

As a great woman once said, "thank you for your time and courtesy."

Things I will be weighing in on:

Led Zeppelin
Entourage
Beer
24
Roger Clemens
Dames

Talk to you soon

HARRY FROM WORK

2007-03-03T07:39:00.000-08:00

Being the father of two young children who watch plenty of TV, I've seen many awful kids shows over the years.

Dora the Explorer - Brutal

Teletubbies - I'd rather drink piss

Land Before Time - Pretty much stench

Barney - I'm ready to swallow a .44

If it weren't for Spongebob and Kim Possible (you all know how I feel about her), I might consider enforcing the no-TV rule for the kids.

Well, just yesterday, while watching TV with young Kurt, I stumbled across the worst kid show in the history of awful kid shows.

It is called Hip Hop Harry.

Just think of Barney, M.C. Hammer and the Philly Phanatic all rolled into one.

It's bascially the same idea as Barney - a big fuzzy thing teaching kids about reading, writing, the five sense, the basic food groups, crap like that. However, while Harry talks like a wanna be gansta and does every Hip Hop hand gestures with the exception of grabbing his crotch. He ever wears some bling - a obnoxious medallion with a big 'H" on it. He even yells "It's On" at the beginning of the show.

And of course the songs are awful. He pretty much raps about manners and washing your hands and nonsense like that.

How awful is it? Even my kids recognize as awful and goof on it.

If you want to check it out, it's on Discovery Kids channel. I would think a 30-pack or some Mary Jane would certainly add to the entertainment.

On a much more serious note, I finally brought myself to watch United 93 last night and let me tell you, it was well worth the wait. This movie is awesome. If you haven't seen it, you should. It's that good. The best thing about it is it doesn't cheapen 9/11 or give it the Hollywood treatment. The movie makers did it exactly right. How this wasn't considered for an Oscar other than best editing is beyond me.

Not much else to report. The Pendleton's are probable for Belmar tomorrow but Mom Nature will make the final call there.

Beer count at 24. I had one Thursday night as I prepared to watch a new episode of The Office. However, it was a repeat. As great of a show that it is, is there one that shows as many repeats as The Office? For goodness sakes, Medium has shown a new episode for 8 straight weeks.

Maybe NBC is even getting tired of Jim making that stupid face every two seconds.

Speaking of Medium, I totally forgot to put Allison DuBois (above) in my top 10 TV hotties. Awful job by my part. I should be ripped. As the Stones once sang, she could "make a dead man. . ." you know the rest.

Pendleton . . . OUT.

OSCAR MEYER WEINERS

2007-02-25T22:19:00.000-08:00

Well, the Oscars have come and gone, now we can all get on with our lives.

Since the Pendleton children arrived, I don't get out to the movies much, so I really have little interest in the Academy Awards. The one thing I do like watching is the tribute to all the dead people, it's actually my favorite part. But I have to say, I was quite disappointed in this year's video due to one glaring omission - the late great Anna Nicole Smith.

I mean how does someone as popular as her, who was in four movies, including the Hudsucker Proxy, Naked Gun 33.3 and Skyscraper (in which she starred in and was exec. producer) get left off that list? And don't forget all her fine works from Hefner Studios. I mean, they put on there cinemaphotographers you've never heard up, yet this dame gets left off.

Of course the answer is because the elitist a-holes in Hollywood would never put her on there, but who are they to judge someone's life? She was in movies, she was a big star and she died. That's all there is to it. I'm sure if you delve into the personal life of many Hollywood stars, it would get ugly. I mean, she may have been nuts, but at least she didn't think there were aliens in her blood. At least I don't think she did.

As for the Oscars themselves, congrats to Forest Whittaker. The dude should've gotten an Oscar for Fast Times, so it was a little payback. I am pissed that Jackie Earle Haley (aka Kelly Leak) didn't win. Again, he should've won for the Bad News Bears (him and Matthau).

As for the best picture winner the Departed, a few thoughts:

Good movie. Certainly not Scorsese's best, but what can you do. They probably figure that cat is gonna be on next year's dead guy video, so hook him up while they can. If you haven't seen the movie, skip the blue text coming up, if you have, you can read the many complains I have with this film:

1. Perhaps my biggest fault with the Departed is the fact that both Matt Damon and Leo are secretly text messaging their sources while shit is going on like a: a major deal with chinese dudes, b: a major sting operation, c: while riding in the back seat of the car with Jack Nicholson and Mr. French. If I have to text message anyone one word, it takes me like 15 minutes, but here these guys are doing it secretly and having no problems and of course, not getting exposed. Shit, Damon even does it with his phone in his pocket.

2. That Jack Nicholson couldn't figure out Decaprio was the mole from Day 1. Let's see, he's never had a rat in his pack before, and the second a dude who is an "ex-cop" arrives, he has a mole. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. I wonder who it could be.

3. That nobody in the entire police force - the same folks who know when Jack Nicholson takes a dump - knew that Matt Damon's character has been hanging around old Jack since he was 8 years old.

4. That these two cats, Leo and Matt, would be banging the same dame. Of all the dames in Boston, these two find the same chick.

5. That Matt Damon, knowing the rat was coming to see him, would leave a piece of evidence (the envelope) in plain site on his desk.

6. That Decaprio, when mailing the incriminating CD to Damon, would put his last name and return adresss on there, just in case Matt Damon wanted to find him and kill him.

7. That Damon, who has no problem killing anyone who gets in his way, would let his chick roam around freely after she knew he was a bad guy.

Ok, that's it. I know I'm supposed to suspend reality while watching a movie, but I've come to expect better from Scorsese. Anyway, it's still a great flick. Wasn't violent enough for me, and it could've used some stronger language, but besides that, it was good.

Big news in the beer count. It practically doubled Saturday night, going from 12 to 23 during a dinner party me and Mrs. went to at the local Knights of Columbus Hall. I have to say, after not drinking for a while, the beer tasted pretty good. But after not drinking heavily for a while, the hangover was pretty awful.

One last thing, I'd love to kick the arse of the guy who came up with term "wintry mix" to describe freezing rain. It's freezing rain or wet snow. That's what it is? Why does everything have to have a catchy name? It drives me nuts.

Pendleton .... OUT.

CALL THE POLICE

2007-02-16T20:38:00.000-08:00

Well, isn't it great news that Sting finally decided to throw Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland a huge bone by reforming the Police and going out on tour this summer? For fans of the band it certainly came as great news. Shit, even their performance at the Grammys last Sunday got everyone geeked up (I swear the backing vocals were pre-recorded, but that's another story.)

That was of course until their tickets went on sale this week.

In case you missed it, The Police held a presale for their Garden shows on Wednesday. The only thing you needed to do to get in the presale is join The Police Fan Club. Sounds like a great deal, right? I mean, Pearl Jam's fan club costs something like $20 for the year, and you get a free record at X-mas and great seats to their shows and other shit like that.

Well, as it turns out, for the right to purchase $254 tickets before anyone else, you had to pay a $100 fee to join the fan club. $100? Are you fucking kidding me, boys. The real police should be called in on this one. This is outrageous. I think you could also get seats for $95 beans. So let's say, you do that and get 4 seats at that price. So that's $120 for the ticket, plus about $15-20 more in other fees, and you are paying $150 beans to see three cats who haven't put out an album in 20 years. Plus, you know half of the show will be Sting doing his boring solo crap.

Last summer, I ripped Bruce for charging $100 beans for his jug band act. Bruce, I'm sorry. While the tickets were a bit high, at least you didn't pull this crap.

Honestly, this really pisses me off. These cats have money coming out of their arses and all they do is bilk their fans. Now, the people who pay this should be ripped as well since they are pretty much telling these a-holes charge us whatever you want, we'll pay it. Last fall, Todd hooked me up with Chili Pepper tickets that were $75 a pop. That seems like a frigging bargain now.

In think when the Garden shows come along, I'll drop $18 beans for a 30-pack of Miller Lite, put on my Police greatest hits CD and stare at the picture I have of me and Stewart Copeland from the 2005 Emmy awards.

A few other notes:

-- I spotted some kid checking out my daughter today in A&P. Now, my daughter Georgia is only 7, and this kid was about the same age, but it gave me a good glimpse into what I'll be dealing with in about 6-7 years, and let me tell you I'm not ready for it. Hopefully, my young son Kurt will be big enough to deal with all of these cats. Either that, or I may start taking her to some WNBA games.

-- As I sit here typing this, I have The Tonight Show on in the background and I'm wondering what ever happened to that Jay Leno guy who used to be so funny about 20 years ago. Holy shit does this show stink. Plus, to see Stuttering John all cleaned up just doesn't seem right.

-- Speaking of Stuttering John, congrats to Howard Stern on his engagment. Speaking of Stern, I'm getting pumped for the all Sinatra station coming to Sirius in a few months (man, am I getting old or what). Sirius also just unveiled a 90's alt rock station, which is pretty strong as well.

-- Finally, in an effort to make peace with the fans of FNC, I've told the Sandman I could in be for the Rush show at PNC this summer. He told me I'm welcome, but I have a feeeling he's gonna lure me into a whole arena full of Rush heads and then expose me as the guy who called them overrated. Hopefully, the beer count will be extremely high before the show, so I won't care what happens.

-- Speaking of the beer count, it stands at 12.

SNOW BUSINESS

2007-02-12T20:17:00.000-08:00

Well, we here on the East Coast are expecting a possible big snow storm Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. Will it snow or not? Who the hell knows? But what I do know is when you turn on your local news tomorrow afternoon or night, I guarantee you will see this.

1. The channel will have some dopey name for its (see that JG) coverage: Something like

"Stormwatch 2007" or "Winter Blast 07."

2. The channel will have some a-hole posted at the Home Depot in North Secaucus interviewing folks buying rock salt and shovels.

3. The channel will have another clown outside the place where NYC dispatches its salt spreaders and plows, possibly interviewing the head of the road department.

4. If - and this is an if - the storm turns into a Nor'easter, some poor dude will be in Sea Bright, NJ, talking about possible flooding.

And finally:

5. If it's a huge snowfall, the weatherman will somehow take the blame for it. If it doesn't snow, he will somehow take credit for nothing happening.

Enjoy your show.

A few more things:

The beer count has doubled to 12. Last Monday, I went to see Rangers-Red Wings at the Garden and banged down a few Guiness before the tilt.

Speaking of hockey, did you see the story last week where it was reported a recent Devils game on TV was watched by only 700 households in the tri-state area? 700? Are you kidding me?

Now, localschill, before you remind me how many Cups the Devils have won over the past few years, don't waste your breath. I know how good the team is. I know how good Brodeur is. This is actually a rip at so-called Devil fans. Again, not you localshill, I know you are hard core. Who I can now laugh at though, is all the folks who someone show up during playoff time or who rip Ranger fans during the season or playoffs.

You see, the miniscule TV rating proves to me once and for all that A: There are only about 20,100 Devil fans on the planet, and B: That most folks who go to Devil games go for entertainment purposes, meaning, that once the game is over they don't think about the Devils until they go to their next game. They don't read about the team in the papers, they don't lose sleep after bad losses, they won't watch away games or home games they don't attend. They don't give a shit until the team is right in front of them.

Of course, alot of this is Lou Lamoriello's fault. While he's done an amazing job of building a great team, he's done a shitty job of promoting it. Actually, he's gone out of his way to not promote the team and its star players. Hence, nobody gives a shit.

But don't worry, once they open the new arena in Newark, no one will go to their games and therefore, maybe more people will watch on TV. Who knows, they might even hit triple digits in households.

I have one idea, during breaks in the action, they can show replays of Shakira's arse-shakin' performance from last night's Grammys. Good God. I nearly ruptured my undercarriage watching that.

Have fun in the snow.

2007-02-10T19:29:00.000-08:00

Sandman: Thanks for your great response at http://www.mytwocents-sjpsandman.blogspot.com/

I feel honored that you put it on your blog instead of my response deal. I'm granting you the same courtesy, respect.

As the great Ron Burgundy says, we agree to disagree on most of these acts.
Hotel California is not a masterpiece. Sgt. Peppers is a masterpiece. Exile on Main Street is a masterpiece. Blonde on Blonde is a masterpiece.

As for Fleetwood Mac, I'm not sure what gossip you are talking about. I'm focusing on the music. Great band? No. Good band? Sure.

As for Rush, I didn't mean to come across that I think they suck. The obviously don't suck. They are extremely talented, and while they are a good band, your claim that people in the know would list them as 5 of all time is ludicrous - hence the overrated tag.

A few years ago VH1 - people who work there must be in the know - listed the greatest Hard Rock Acts of all time. Here's the top 28.

1. Led Zeppelin 2. Black Sabbath 3. Jimi Hendrix 4. AC/DC 5. Metallica 6. Nirvana 7. Van Halen 8. The Who 9. Guns N' Roses 10. KISS 11. Aerosmith 12. Sex Pistols 13. Queen 14. Soundgarden 15. Pink Floyd 16. Cream 17. Ramones 18. Ozzy Osbourne 19. The Clash 20. Alice Cooper 21. Pearl Jam 22. Deep Purple 23. Judas Priest 24. Iron Maiden 25. Cheap Trick 26. Motorhead 27. Iggy Pop 28. Rush (3 spots behind Cheap Trick, ouch).

VH-1 sucks, you say: OK. In 2004, Rolling Stone listed it's top 100 greatest artists of all time:

1) The Beatles 2) Bob Dylan 3) Elvis Presley 4) The Rolling Stones 5) Chuck Berry 6) Jimi Hendrix 7) James Brown 8) Little Richard 9) Aretha Franklin 10) Ray Charles 11) Bob Marley 12) The Beach Boys 13) Buddy Holly 14) Led Zeppelin 15) Stevie Wonder 16) Sam Cooke
17) Muddy Watters 18) Marvin Gaye 19) The Velvet Underground 20) Bo Diddley 21) Otis Redding 22) U2 23) Bruce Springsteen 24) Jerry Lee Lewis 25) Fats Domino 26) The Ramones 27) Nirvana 28) Prince 29) The Who 30) The Clash 31) Johnny Cash
32) Smok ey Robinson and the Miracles 33) The Everly Brothers 34) Neil Young 35) Michael Jackson 36) Madonna 37) Roy Orbison 38) John Lennon 39) David Bowie 40) Simon and Garfunkel 41) The Doors 42) Van Morrison 43) Sly and the Family Stone 44) Public Enemy
45) The Byrds 46) Janis Joplin 47) Patti Smith 48) Run-DMC 49) Elton John 50) The Band

51) Howlin' Wolf 52) The Allman Brothers Band 53) Eric Clapton 54) Dr. Dre 55) Grateful Dead 56) Parliament/Funkadelic 57) Aerosmith 58) Sex Pistols 59) Louis Jordan 60) Joni Mitchell 61) Tina Turner 62) Etta James 63) Phil Spector 64) The Kinks 65) Al Green
66) Cream 67) The Temptations 68) Jackie Wilson 69) Carl Perkins 70) The Police 71) Frank Zappa 72) AC/DC 73) Radiohead 74) Hank Williams 75) The Eagles 76) The Shirelles
77) Beastie Boys 78) The Stooges 79) The Four Tops 80) Elvis Costello 81) The Drifters
82) Emine m 83) N.W.A. 84) James Taylor 85) Black Sabbath 86) Tupac Shakur 87) Gram Parsons 88) Miles Davis 89) The Yardbirds 90) Carlos Santana 91) Ricky Nelson
92) Guns n' Roses 93) Booker T. and the MG's 94) Nine Inch Nails 95) Lynyrd Skynyrd
96) Martha and the Vandellas 97) Diana Ross and the Supremes 98) Roxy Music
99) Curtis Mayfield 100) Lee "Scratch" Perry

In case you're wondering the judges were:

Here they are:

http://www.rollingstone.com/news/story/7235503/the_voters

As you can see, they are people who make music, produce music and write about music. Shit, the might even be lucky enough to experience and feel it like you do. Maybe, just maybe, they weren't basing it on talent and technical perspective, whatever the hell that means.

In case you didn't read the whole list, Rush is nowhere to be found. Maybe they finished 101. So maybe you're right, they shouldn't be on the overrated list, since they are not even on there.

As for the statement in which you say "Are you one of those people who just listen to music as background noise to whatever else it is you're doing? I'm surprised. I've always given you more credit as a music fan" And that you experience music, feel it. I had to laugh, since it came from someone, who on their list of favorite bands ranked Great White, Richard Marx, Poison, White Lion, Goo, Goo Dolls ahead of the Beatles and Bruce Springsteen and the Stones (who, by the way, aren't overrated at all). Next time you want to "experience" something, pop on Exile on Main Street.

And finally, let's remember I didn't want to even do the list since I knew it would raise your ire quite highly. I just know what I like and what I don't like, but you made me do it.

Anyway, dude, who really cares what I say? You love Rush, I don't. We can post for the next 100 years and neither of us in going to change the other person's mind.

The main thing is we both agree on what the most overrated act on the planet is:

PS: Not to get you riled up, and not to contradict everything I said, but Limelight is one of my favorite tunes of all time.

Let's Go Mets

Love, Joe

OVERRATED, OVERRATED

2007-02-09T18:53:00.000-08:00

Well, here it is, thanks to severe pressure from the Sandman, I present my list of the top 10 most overrated music acts in history.

A few things to consider as you read the list.

1. Just because the band/artist is the on the list, doesn't necessarily mean they suck. It only means, they are good/better than good, but not God-like like most people think they are.

2. Just because the band/artist is on the list, doesn't necessarily mean they don't suck, meaning, they can totally suck, but people love them.

3. Most of this is based on how I feel the general public rates these bands or artists. So it's possible I could be off base, but I doubt it.

4. Most bands that thrived in the 80s are not on here, since I feel most bands from that era are judged perfectly. For example, Bon Jovi and Def Leppard are not on this list. They are a better than average bands that many people love/like, but aren’t considered all-time greats. Speaking of Def Leppard, it reminds me of a joke I heard on a recent trip to Colorado. It goes like this: 'What has 9 arms and sucks."

Finally, this is the top 10. To me, everyone but the Beatles, The Stones, Elvis, Ramones and AC/DC are overrated (yes, even Bruce is a tad overrated, but he’s not on the top 10), so that’s where I’m coming from.

On that note. Here we go, the Joe Pendleton 10 most overrated music acts in history.
P.S. Some bands on this list are bands I like, so before you get pissed off if one of your all-time favs is on here, sorry.

10. THE SEX PISTOLS.
These dirt bags are credited as the fathers of punk rock, yet their ONE and ONLY ALBUM - Never Mind the Bullocks - came out 1 year after the Ramones debut disc. Hmmmmmm. As underrated as the Ramones are, these cats are overrated. They were more style than substance. Now, in accordance with the rules, I'm not saying these dudes suck, but they get way too much credit for being the leaders of a punk movement that had already started in New York. Plus, how can a band that put out just 1 album be credited with being the founding fathers of anything?

9. THE EAGLES
For me, these cats walk the thin line between greatness and pure shit. I think some of their songs are real strong (Already Gone, Take It Easy) while some - Hotel California, Lying Eyes - are drawn out bores. Honestly, when I was 10 I thought HC was a great tune, but listen to it now, with that mediocre, extended guitar solo at the end, and it’s pretty much pure shit. Plus, their music laid the groundwork for Don Henley's vastly overrated/wussy solo career. I think the root of my overratedness feeling about them is the fact that they charged outrageous prices for their reunion tours. Seriously, what is the big deal with these cats? I can see the Stones & the Who asking for big bucks since they merit it. To me, these dudes can't hold a candle to Skynyrd or the Allman Brothers, yet they are put up on some pedestal with some of the best bands of all time. For my money, I'd rather have Joe Walsh solo or with the James Gang, instead of hanging out with Henley and Glen "Smugglers Blues' Frey.

8. LITTLE JOHNNIE COUGAR MELLENCAMP: If Bruce is a Dylan ripoff, this cat is a Bruce ripoff. Problem is, while Springsteen pulls it off, this cat doesn’t. He did for a while, but lately he’s become a total clown/schill. Now, I’ve hammered Bruce for putting out the jug band album, but even I realize at least the cat changed things up a bit. This cat hasn’t. Despite having dollar bills pouring out of his ass, and despite being married to a super model, he’s still trying to push the same old middle America, blue-collar bullshit. Mabye it’s the “Our Country” song that has pushed me over the top, but let’s face it, this cat was done about 2 seconds into the Van Morrison remake. He doesn’t totally suck, but should never, even be mentioned in the same sentence as Springsteen. (Yes, I know I mentioned him in the same sentence as Springsteen, but that was to prove a point).

7. THE DAVE MATTHEWS BAND: There are a few things in life I just don’t understand. 1: How do you compute someone’s QB rating and why do people think it’s a relevant stat? 2: How are American Idol and Survivor two of the top-rated shows in the world? 3: How the hell is this cat popular? I just don’t get it. Now, I’ll admit I’ve never been under the influence of anything but alcohol and Mrs. Pendleton, so maybe I’m out of the loop on this one, but honestly, what is the big draw with this cat? His annoying voice? His 3 hour and 20 minute songs? What is it? Listen, I know getting high at his shows must be a fun thing to do, but honestly, you could get high watching Gilligan’s Island and have just as good of a time (someone told me that the Professor is really funny that way). And if you need to get high to enjoy the music, than something is severely wrong. Listen, I’ve been loaded at many a Bruce show, but when I sober up the next day, I still will pop in a CD (unless it’s that jug band one). I can’t imagine listening to this cat while sober. I know the kids like him, but I think it has more to do with lack of a good jam band (Grateful Dead anyone) than anything else.

6. FLEETWOOD MAC
These cats and kittens nearly cracked the top 3, but I honestly don't give that much of a shit about them. I think my ire/overratedness stems from the blow job the Rumors album gets anytime it's mentioned. I mean, it's an OK album, but 50 years from now, when some cat is talking about the most important albums of all time, it will be mentioned a few discs after a Toby Keith album. Again, they are OK, but an all-time great. Not even close.

5. PHIL COLLINS: Let me start by saying I hate this dude more than anyone. First, because his music is lame, and two, because he’s nailing Channel 2’s Dana Tyler. Anyway, this cat almost landed two spots on the list (one for himself, and one for Genesis), but I figured I’d condense them. First, the solo stuff. We all know it sucks, yet somehow he’s considered a great singer/songwriter. Su-su-sudio is proof enough that’s not true. And then there’s Genesis. I have to say I do enjoy the album with the yellow shapes on the cover, but I can’t say the reasons why (It has nothing to do with the music). However, their rise up the pop charts in the 80s drove me nuts. The songs were shitty, that “progressive” type of music is boring and I hate Phil Collins (have I said that yet). If there’s one act that really let their videos (and not their music) ride them to the top, it was these assclowns. Plus, Genesis spawned Mike and the Mechanics, reason enough to be ripped.

4. RUSH: Now I’ll admit, I, like everyone else I know went through a Rush phase. There was a two-week span where I couldn’t get enough of the Moving Pictures album – BUT THAT’S WHEN I WAS 13. I made a lot of bad choices back then. I still thought chicks were icky . Listen, Rush is OK, just OK. I mean when a band relies on its drummer to carry it, you’ve got some problems. Geddy Lee’s voice could make dogs commit suicide. The other knock on these clowns is they didn’t know when to go away. After their early 80’s success, they should’ve packed it in. But no, they had to go with “Roll the Bones” and “Early Distant Warning,” two over-produced pieces of shite. Over-produced is about how I would sum up Rush, which by the way stands for Really Useless Shitty Hacks. Ok, not usless, but severly overrated as being one of the greatest rock bands of all time.

3. KISS: Growing up in New Jersey, every kid I knew also loved these guys. But, while I thought chicks were Icky and Rush was cool, I saw through these guys immediately. First of all, they are overrated in the sense that the makeup thing was cool. It wasn’t. It was a direct Alice Cooper/New York Dolls ripoff. Second, their music pretty much blew. They are the perfect definition of style over substance. Honestly, if you ever hear anyone talk about Kiss, their songs are about 20th on the priority list. First you talk about the makeup, then Gene Simmons’ tongue, then about the makeup, about what they might look like without the makeup, then about when they took the makeup off and so on and so on. Two other knocks on them, they needed to put out a totally puss song (Beth, sorry JG) to crack any pop charts, and they also banged out a shameful disco tune (I Was Made for Loving You). Really, the only good song they ever banged out is Hard-Luck Woman, and, of course, Ace Frehley’s “New York Groove.” By the way, did you know KISS stands for Sucks.

2. WILLIAM JOEL: When I leave this planet, I’m gonna know immediately if I’m in heaven or hell. If I’m in heaven, I will walk into Shea Stadium, where 50 super models with an unlimited supply of beer will be waiting for me to play an eternity’s worth of Wiffle Ball. But, if I walk into a room full of annoying chicks singing Piano Man at the top of their lungs, I’ll know Satan took me in a fantasy draft. I HATE THIS CAT. HATE with a capital HATE and I don’t understand why he is so popular. I’ll give you his music was good when he first came along. The Stranger album is great and Glass Houses even has its moments, but from then on, it’s been pure shit. The Innocent Man album, featuring suck rock classics as “Uptown Girl,” and “Tell Her About It,” was a huge success, but it was really a huge piece of shit. But not his hughest, no he saved that for ”We Didn’t Start the Fire,” his musical trip through history. From then he’s been putting out crap on top of crap, on top of crap. Honestly, a lot of this list has hints of schtick, this is not. I just don’t get the deal with this cat. I could see chicks liking him and my parents liking him and 3-year-old liking him, but when I hear people my age say he’s great or he’s awesome, I want to hop in a car and drive into a house. As for Piano Man, it’s No. 1 on the list of songs I hate hearing people singing along to at bars. No. 2 is Paradise by the Dashboard Light. No. 3: Mony, Mony.

1. PINK FLOYD: When I saw a few weeks ago the JG went to AC to see a Floyd tribute band, I started to rethink this one since I value her musical judgment quite highly. But the more I thought about it (Sandman this is what’s held up the list, I really did debate this one for a week or so) I had to go with my heart. Unlike Dave Matthews, where fans have to get high to enjoy the music, I think Floyd fans get high to prevent dozing off during a song. To me, these cats are a pure fucking bore. The only time I really enjoyed a Floyd album is while watching the Wizard of Oz. Now, I do like a few tunes (even some boring ones) like Shine on You Crazy Diamond, Wish You Were Here, but that’s it. The more I hear The Wall, with the stupid kids singing and the sound effects and shit like that, the more I hate it. Perhaps some day when the Pendleton kids are of age, I’ll roll up a big fattie, pop on Dark Side of the Moon and see if things change, but for now, I find these cats vastly overrated. They are not the shittiest act on the list (Bill Joel will always hold that title), but they are the most overrated.

FEEL FREE TO RIP AWAY.

Well, there you go.

I'll let all you fans digest this one for a few days before I weigh in (excuse the pun) on the death of the great Anna Nicole Smith.

Also, a big update in the beer count.

IDIOT BOX FOXES

2007-02-02T19:22:00.000-08:00

Well, as promised, I present my 10 hottest TV babes of my lifetime.

A few rules before we start.

This is a list of characters, not actresses, hence you'll find no Chrissy Snow on the list. While it's true Sue Sommers was banging, Ms. Snow was just too stupid to be around.

Also, these are shows that I have watched, so if there is some dame from ER or some other dopey show like that, you'll have to assume I didn't or don't watch that show. So here goes:

10. Jan Brady (The Brady Bunch): That's right, it says Jan, not Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. Listen, when Jan was at that awkward age, she was a huge dweeb while Marcia was so hot even Greg (remember, they're not related) couldn't stop from checking her out. But as Jan grew (I think her stint at Haskell's Ice Cream Shop gave her lots of confidence) she became hotter than Marcia if you ask me. The proof is in the picture. Plus, she probably got so tired of hearing about Marcia in high school that, well, you know. The only thing I wouldn't do with her is ask her to handle any ingraving order.

9. Chloe O'Brian (24): I know, I know this dame is nuts and she always has a goofy look on her grill, but I gotta say there is something about her that gets my CTU going. Maybe it's her amazing computer skills (nah), her ability to be calm under pressure (nah), the fact that when she needed to, she whipped out a machine gun and killed some terrorists (yes). The only problem with her is she's got this friend named Jack and it seems everyone who comes around him (with the exception of Chloe) is killed violently. Oh well, it's worth the risk.

8. Kim Possible (Kim Possible): A high school cheerleader who hangs out at a Mexican Fast Food Joint, who's parents are loaded, and who can kick bad guy's arses all over the world. What is there not to like? She does hang out with a dweeb named Ron Stoppable, but, believe me, that cat ain't getting it done. When it comes to super hero's, she's the superest. I had to keep this one sort of clean, she's only 17.

7. Kelly Kapowski (Saved by the Bell): As if we all need any more proof how much of a dope Screetch was, he was more interested in Lisa Turtle while this was running around Bayside High (many times in a cheerleader outfit). Listen, I'm sure old Screech knew he had no shot with her, but for God's sake man, try it. Who knows, maybe he could've come up with some scientific way to poison Zach and Slater without anyone know it was him. Maybe he could've had his computer Kevin off both of them. Anyway, Ms. Kapowski was perhaps the best looking chick in any high school show ever, and this was before she got implants and moved to Beverly Hills. I wonder if Belding ever ... Nah, he was more clueless than old Samuel Powers.

6. Agent 99 (Get Smart): Hey Joe, you'll be teamed with a sexy partner, with a great voice, and great body and be facing danger at every turn. My response: "And loving it." My hormones would go into CHAOS whenever she hit the screen. I just wonder what she saw in a dude who was completely clueless and talked into a shoe. You see that a lot in TV.

5. Jeannie (I Dream of Jeannie): Who doesn't dream of her. I've always said if I ever hit the lottery, I'm gonna buy a huge hut and one room in that hut will look exactly like the inside of Jeannie's bottle. You know, the circular velvet couch with all the cushions. By the way, didn't it seem like Dr. Bellows was over Major Nelson's house an awful lot.

4. Natalia Boa Vista (CSI: Miami): If it weren't for her overly dramatic boss, Horatio Cane, she could be No. 1 on looks alone. The only knock against her is she doesn't seem to do much at work, which suggests she might think she's all that. However, if she arrived at my hut with her kit after an episode, she'd have no trouble finding my DNA.

3. Samantha Spade (Without a Trace): Yeah, I know, it's a show about missing people and kids and stuff like that. Well, you know what, when she pops up on the screen, I feel nothing is missing. Not only is she gorgeous, she's extremely smart. It's amazing how many hot chicks work for the FBI. Only bad thing, the Feds don't let her dress up like this at work.

2. Catwoman (Batman): I never rooted against Batman, except when he came across this purrrfect specimen. Now while the black Catwoman was hot, nothing topped the one pictured here. Holy Hottie I cried every time I saw her. If I could see in the TV listings it was a Catwoman episode on that day I would fake a fever to stay home from school. However, by the time she hit the screen with that skin-tight suit and that voice of hers, I had a real fever and was heading for the bat pole everytime.

1. Jamie Sommers (The Bionic Woman): A strange No. 1 pick you say. Screw you, I say. She was my first love. From her bionic hand (hey-now) to the way she brushed her hair back when she needed to use the bionic ear (as if any hair would block a sound from 3 miles away) she had it all. Plus, despite a 6-million dollar man running around, she was single. What sold it for me was the episode when - while doing some undercover work at the Miss America Pageant, she sang "Feelings." I'm sure with that bionic ear of her should could hear me saying "I love you" through the TV screen.

Well, that's it. I hope you enjoyed it. Now I can go back to mourning Barbaro. If the government had any class they would make Jan. 27 a national holiday to honor this great champion. I mean, who cares about the 1,000s of soldiers dying in Iraq, this was a special horse who got better treatment at a hospital than most humans do. A tragic loss indeed. I was glued to the TV all day watching the coverage. Well, I'll drop this now, I don't want to beat a dead horse.

Beer count at 5.

PITCH THIS

2007-01-28T10:25:00.000-08:00

While doing a recent search for some What's Happening trivia, I stumbled onto this new blog. It's from some grizzly old-timer who worked on 60s and 70s sitcoms. It's some good stuff. It's called www.thebadpitch.blogspot.com

If you get a chance, check it out.

By the way, sorry I haven't blogged lately, but I've been busy watching TV and playing PS2 with the Pendleton kids.

A few notes real quick.

-- It's amazing how "great" Tom Brady is when he doesn't have take to his team 30 yards in a tied game to kick a field goal. Sorry, I'm still bitter from the Rams-Pats Super Bowl.

-- Beer count still at 5, but some serious threats exist before the March 17 deadline. The biggest one is a family friend from Ireland will be arriving on March 11 and staying in the NYC area until the 26th. While I may make the 17th deadline, the beer count could be in triple digits by the 26th.

-- Gotta say I'm totally not interested in college hoops this year, call it the Schiano hangover. I mean, after being so close to the team that finished 3rd in one of the worst conferences in the country, how can I get fired up for college hoops. I think this may be the year I stay out the office pool and see if I even give two craps about March Madness.

-- Congrats to Willie Randolph and his new extension. Imagine how much he would've gotten if he hadn't botched the bottom of the 9th in Game 7 of the NLCS. A quick review, the Mets, down 2 runs in a game they had to have, have first and second with no outs with the pitcher's spot coming up. Instead of doing what any manager in his right mind would do (bunting the runners over with Jose Reyes and Paul LoDuca - the team's best singles hitters - coming up), he sends up a hobbling Cliff Floyd. The best case-scenario is a 3-run homer, which everyone in the park knew wasn't going to happen since old Cliff could barely stand. There's a shot of a double, but again, Cliff can't hit and walk. As it turns out, Cliff whiffed, which was a good thing for most Mets fans who were expecting an easy DP. That puts Reyes up in a position where he has to drive the ball, instead of just getting a hit. He drove the ball, but James Edmonds made a nice play. Then came LoDuca, who instead of being in a situation where a hit ties the game, he's now in a spot where he's just gotta get on base. He does, working out a walk. Which brings up old bat-on-his shoulders Beltran. I heard Randolph say on the fan this week that the inning worked out perfectly, since he had Beltran up with the bases loaded. First, he didn't mention it was with two outs and two, if you ask me, a better situation is second and third, one out, and Reyes at the dish. Or man on third, two outs and LoDuca up. Anyway, I like what Randolph has done in changing the ARt Howish attitude on the Mets, but I just have a feeeling this guy will botch any big spot we get put in.

-- SOrry for the rant. I got wound up.

-- Anyway, top 10 overrated bands list is losing steam. I started it, and realized it was going nowhere. So, you may or may not see it soon.

-- In it's place, you will soon get the 10 hottest babes on TV shows I watch and have watched in the course of my life.

A DAY AT THE MOVIES

2007-01-18T00:29:00.000-08:00

First of all the beer count is at 5. Now, before you rip me for bagging on the no-beer-until-St. Paddy's-day deal early, let me explain.

I went to my friend's hut Saturday night to watch Saints-Eagles. He is a Saints fan and had plenty of New Orleans beer. Also, he is my usual drinking buddy on March 17, but he won't be around, so I figured what the hell. Still, only five for me during the course of a 3-hour football game is pretty good.

Speaking of beer, I got Artie Lang's Beer League from Netflix last night, and let me tell you, it could be the worst movie I ever saw. It's so bad, it's not even funny. Now, some movies suck, but they are funny. This movie sucks. Saving Private Ryan was funnier. I cringed several times throughout the film, it's that bad. I like Artie on the Stern show, but this movie blew. BLEW.

Beer League was my second movie this week. On Monday, I took the Pendleton children to their second viewing of "Night at the Museum." It's not a great flick, but it doesn't suck either. \

Any flick that can keep the attention of the 3-year old boy for 90 minutes is pretty good. Maybe he was staring at Carla Gugino's rack like I was. However, the real highlight on the movie was for once, I got to play the part of the annoying guy behind you at the movies, and let me tell you, it was quite refreshing.

First of all, due to insane lines and some slow assed teens working the snack stand, we got into the movie about 10 minutes late. Having already seen it, we didn't miss anything important, but since it was a Holiday monday, there weren't too many seats. We finally found three about 4 rows from the screen. We quietly sat down, but I noticed the dame in front of me had long hair and it was laying over the back of the seat - hence in my personal movie space.

Anyway, we quietly sat down, took off our coats and I handed some popcorn and raisinettes to both kids. As I rustled the popcorn bag, this broad did the head half-turn, as if to see what was going on behind her. As I rustled the raisinettes bag, she did it again. It's a move I've done plenty of times, but to be on the recieving end, let me tell you, all it did was encourage me to make more noise since I knew i was clearly getting under this dame's skin. So, everytime I went to the popcorn or candy, I made sure the be extra noisy. I would say, through the course of the movie, she did about 6-7 half turns. At one point, I wanted to lean forward and say "Could you stop moving your head, it's distracting."

Now, before you rip me, two things in my defense.

1. It's a 1:40 showing of a kids' movie on a day when schools are off. What the fuck did she expect, complete silence. You gotta know you are walking into kid hell. Deal with it.

2. It was Night at the Museum. Was my popcorn rustling really distracting her from the intense dialog between Ben Stiller and a T-Rex? Give me a fucking break.

See what happens when I keep the drinking to a minimum.

Finally, you heard it here first. Sunday's Colts-Pats game will come down to Adam Vinatieri, and, as if to prove the Colts are forever doomed and that Tom Brady's pact with Satan has a few more years left on it, Mr. Automatic will miss.

Coming up on FNC: The much anticipated most overrated bands list and my tribute to my new TV dream girl Eva La Rue.

WHAT A YEAR 2007 WAS

2007-01-08T12:40:00.000-08:00

Now, this is not a misprint, rather - thanks to the FNC time machine - this is the year end post for 2007. Now, I can't tell you everthing that happened in 07, like lottery numbers and crap like that, but this is stuff I remember happening. Anway, let's review the top 10 events of 2007 in no particular order.

She Did It Again - Britney Spears, thanks to more panty-less partying, losses custody of her children to K-Fed, who, in an attempt to make cash and some headlines, auctions off the children. The auction gets ugly, but Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt barely beat out Madona for the young Fed kids.

Stench - For the second time in less than four months, an awful odor emenates all over New York City. Officials, after plenty of tests, determine it's not a natural gas leak, rather the play of Alex Rodriguez.

Rudy - Rudy Guiliani drops his presidential bid when, during a debate he rips Barack Obama for a highly anti-semitic film and the 9/11 attacks. When's he's reminded the film was called Borat and that Osama Bin Laden was responsible for 9/11, he quits the race and goes on a multi-million dollar lecture circuit about the difference between Barack Obama and Osama Bin Laden.

RU Crazy - In perhaps the most shocking event of the year, Rutgers football coach Greg Schiano is appointed Governor of New Jersey after leading the Knights to a second-place finish in the Big East. During his swearing in, word comes down the Joe Paterno is leaving Penn State and Schiano hands the state over to Fred Hill Jr. and immediately heads to Happy Valley.

Not yet - Fishing Not Catching's 10 Most Overrated Bands list doesn't get posted until the middle of January. The four fans of the site are upset.

Saints Alive - The New Orleans Saints reach Super Bowl XLI, but the game is never played as Aaron Neville's rendition of the Star Spangled Banner takes 3 hours and 40 minutes to complete. Viewers hammer CBS with calls, but not because the game is never played, but because they don't get another chance to hear John Cougar's "This Is Our Country" 20 times.

I DO Believe it - In perhaps the oddest event of the year, Localshill's wedding is interuped when, during the ceremony, Tom Abatemarco and Bob Wenzel begin shouting obcenities at local shill from the front row of the church.

Net loss - The entire world is thrown into disarray when the world wide web crashes for 2 weeks. Scientists figure out the problem stemmed from Sandman's 15,000-screen post in which he ranks every band that ever put out an album. After futher digging, it's revealed the size of the post is not the problem, but the fact that he ranked 4-Non Blondes over the Beatles caused the computers all over the world to crash.

Letterman - Squawking VFR founder Pete gets into hot water in his new gig, when he writes a scathing letter to the editor of his own paper ripping his own handiwork.

Gardenstate - The celebrity wedding of the year takes place in December when Jerseygirl and Brett Favre tie the knot. It's a storybook romance until the tabloids reveal the two met while in rehab for painkillers. It's clear from day 1 who wears the pants in the family, as Favre quickly comes out of retirment and somehow lands as the starting QB at Ohio State. Sorry about the photo, JG, but I saw it on google and couldn't resist.

ROMO SAYS WHAT?

2007-01-06T20:32:00.000-08:00

Life is a funny thing, especially when it comes to sports. You judge people by the teams they play on, not their personality. For example, I hate Scott Gomez and Patrik Elias, but have never met the cats. I love Pedro Martinez and Isaac Bruce and have never met them. For all I know, Elias and Gomez are great guys and Petey and the Reverend are total a-holes.

What got me thinking about this? Actually, it was Mrs. Pendleton. As I howled with joy Saturday night watching Tony Romo blow Dallas' loss to Seattle, the Mrs. said to me, "If he were on another team, would you hate him?" I said, "you know what, I have no clue. I'm sure he's a good guy, but he's on the Cowboys, and due to a mass media ready to annoint him the second coming of Roger Staubach after a few wins in November, I'm sick of the cat." One final note on that Romo botched FG. Not once did Al Michaels and John Madden mention that the cat came up about 6-inches short of a first down on that play. All they talked about was him not reaching the end zone, but remember, it was a fourth-and-half-a-yard.

But it is funny how we judge athletes - most of them anyway - by the teams they play on. I mean, I actually rooted for Larry Phillips to do well when he was on the Rams, despite the fact he made smashing his dame's noggin into a wall a daily occurence. Anyway, good for Parcells and T.O. Adios a-holes.

Let me use that to seque into the Randy Johnson saga this week. I can't see even the most die-hard Yankee fan ever rooting for that a-hole. There's nothing I hate more that miserable millionaire who has a job any straight dude would kill to have. Remember, this is a dude who, while making $16 million a year, refused to pay for bastard daughter to go to a community college. Well, unfortunately for us Yankee haters, they did the right thing and sent the a-hole back to Arizone. Fortunately for us Yankee haters, Roger Clemens will be back in the Bronx before July 4th, so we have another dick to root against.

In other stuff, word has is that Jim Tressel has a clause in his contract - which he signed after Ohio State's ref-aided national title a few years back - that if he wins another national title, his contract is null and void, making him a free agent. Word has it there's a certain shitty NFL team in Northern Ohio that may back up the Brinks truck for that cat.

Finally, tomorrow is the last day you can wish someone Happy New Year. The new deadline is Jan. 8. Once it's a week old, the New Year is no longer new.

As for New Year's Eve. How about that fucking Dick Clark? While I feel bad for the dude, you know - as my brother in Calif. pointed out - that if Dick were the producer of the show and some other oldtimer - let's say Bill Shatner - were the longtime host and was incapacitated by a stroke, old Dick would have a replacement on the set faster than you can say Depends. Also, you know none of Clark's hanger-oners don't have the balls to tell that cat he's embarrassing himself for fear of being canned on the spot. What someone should've done about 10 years ago, is video Clark counting down to every year up until 2050. This way, Clark would never have to embarrass himself, and America wouldn't be subjected to Ryan Seacrest.

Finally: Beer count: 0.

CRAPPY NEW YEAR

2007-01-02T23:39:00.001-08:00

Well, it's 2007, big deal.

Actually, for fans of this blog, this is a big deal since it seems like 2005 since my last blog. Well, take heart fans, one of my resolutions is to blog more often.

So here goes with my resolutions for this year:

1. Lose weight. I did it last year - that was until November, when I put some of it back on. Anyway, a gym membership is actually in my future.

2. No beer til St. Paddy's Day. I had enough tastes over the last 10 days of December to last me a lifetime, but all I need them to do is last 77 days. My "weekend alcoholic" schtick is getting tired, so I'll give it a rest for a while. The good news is, once 3/17 rolls around, I will start a new beer count that I promise I will keep track of all year long. Also, after 3/17, I will try to limit my drinking to special occassions, like weddings, parties, Fridays and Saturdays and Met games on TV.

3. Learn to play the guitar. Remember that guitar I got on my 40th birthday. Well, it's been used less than Nicole Richie's digestive system the last nine months. I may even take lessons. The goal is to be able to bang out actual tunes by the summer. It's a longshot, but you never know.

4. See more friends. Times out of my hut are few and far between, but I'm gonna make a point to see other people outside of weddings and parties. Another longshot, but you never know.

5. Don't let my sports teams drive me nuts. This one is tough, but since I've accepted the Rams blow and I honestly can't get worked up over the Mets until October rolls around, the Rangers are my only problem. If they can somehow get past the first round of the playoffs, this one could be shot. But again, a longshot.

6. Do more stuff with my kids. I have going to the movies and watching Spongebob mastered. It's time to take it up a notch with the young Pendletons - ice skating, hunting, bowling are all things that should and could be done.

7. Dress better. I have to be honest, the jeans and sweatshirt thing is getting tired, even for me. It's a good way to hide the fat, but that's about it. I actually wore a nice shirt to work tonight and am pondering wearing Dockers pants tomorrow. Of all the 7 resolutions to this point, this one has the least chance of succeeding.

8. Write a movie script. I've have a few ideas in my head for flix for years - and they don't all include me starring in Busty Cops 4 - but I have to committ myself to doing it. When I win the Oscar in a few years, I may bring up this post.

9. Explore beer options. OK, I have to say, of the 700 or so beers I had in 2006, approximately 87% were Miller Lites. Of all Lite beer, that is my favorite. Coors Light blows, Bud Light gives me gas, Amstel Light is too expensive and Corona Lite looks and tastes like piss. THat being said, I want to expand my beer horizons without A: Spending $28 for a case, B: feeling like I need a nap after one or two beers (I call it the Sam Adams syndrome) or C: Gaining tons of weight while getting loaded. If anyone has any suggestions let me know. PS: You have until March 18th for a suggestion, since St. Paddy's Day will be an all day Guiness Fest.

10. More blogging. My beer-induced haze over the holidays killed my desire to blog. I hope that will change in 2007. So far, I'm off to a good start.

Happy New Year to all FNC fans and keep reading.

PS: The most overrated bands blog is still coming as our my predictions for 2007.

RU SERIOUS

2006-12-08T18:41:00.000-08:00

Let me get this straight:

In a state where property taxes are through the roof, gas prices are heading back that way, traffic is a fucking nightmare and its two biggest cities are chock full of murderes, rapists and battered children, a U.S. Senator is worried about a shitty football game not being on TV.

Yes, Jerseyans, that is what's going on here.

In case you missed it, Sen. Frank Lautenberg has written a letter to the head of the NFL Network pleading him to get the highly anticipated Houston Bowl on free TV. He's used phrases like "we will fight this" and "not gonna stand for this" when it comes to this tremendous injustice.

If you're not one of the thousand or so people who really care about Rutgers football, the Knights' clash with mighty Kansas State is scheduled to be shown exclusively on the NFL Network. And unless you have Comcast Digital Cable or a satellite dish, you will be watching Rutgers and North Carolina on the hardwood on 12/28 instead of what some are calling the other BCS Title game from Reliant Stadium.

Does that suck? It certainly does. It is annoying? Absolutely. Is it a reason for U.S. Senator to get involved? Absolutely not. Anyone who followed the YES Network's dispute with Cablevision in NYC knows a U.S. Senator and a few put off RU fans are not going to make the a-holes at the NFL Network and the Cable Companies give in. There's too much money at stake and they don't give a shit about the fans.

As for Lautenberg, it's a great grandstanding move, but c'mon dude, get real. Yes, RU fever is running rampant like E.Coli these days, but in all honestly, how many people are really looking forward to this game. Had it been last year's Insight.com bowl, I could see his point. Rutgers hadn't played in a bowl game in decades and it was a big deal. To me, the Houston Bowl is a shitty consolation prize. A week ago, Rutgers was minutes away from playing in the Orange Bowl on New Year's Day and now they are heading for The Houston Bowl. Whoop de damn do. It would be comparable to the Jets missing the playoffs on the last day of the season and then playing the Arizona Cardinals 5 weeks later.

Please, Senator Lautenberg, focus your efforts on shit that matters to everyone in the state. Instead of typing up a letter to a station that thinks Bryant Gumbel is talented, pay a visit to Newark or Camden or talk to some single parent working two jobs just so they pay their property taxes and put gas in their tank so they can get to their minimum wage job.

P.S. - The Pendleton Household does get the NFL Network and will charging RU fans just $5 a head to see the game. Beer will be extra.

ROTO-SCHILLING

2006-12-04T18:58:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know it's been a while, what can I tell you?
Blogging is low on my list of things to do these days, but I'm taking the quality over quantity approach, basically blogging when I really get wound up.

Yesterday, I was.

Now let me say, I understand how fun/frustrating fantasy football can be. I'm in a league, my team sucks arse - Ronnie Brown and Cadillac Williams were my first two picks, but it's still fun. However, I don't fucking obsess over it. And I would never, EVER, do what I saw yesterday.

Celebrating my brother's birthday, me, Joe Pendleton Sr. and my brother went to a place with Sunday Ticket to bang down some tastes, watch every game and eat some grub.

So there we were having fun and then I spot a dude looking for a table. The problem was, no tables had an outlet for him to plug in his laptop. Yes, this dude actually brought a laptop with him to the bar so he could track his fantasy game. Get a fucking life. This fantasy thing has gone too far. When I think fantasy, it's Without a Trace star Poppy Montgomery, Rosalyn Sanchez and a can of Reddi Whip, not a laptop in a bar tracking how Marc Bulger is doing.

Other than that, not much else going on. The beer count is through the roof after a weekend of drinking in Colorado for a wedding, a complete bash of a wedding the following week in Hoboken when a midget in a wheelchair played the keyboards and banged out tunes and a Thanksgiving weekend that featured nothing but football and tastes (the laptop stayed home).

A few things to look forward to before the year ends.

1. THe most overrated bands of all time post I have promised since Oct.
2. The 10 best/worst days of the year.

I promise these will be posted soon.

ROCKY MOUNTAIN SCHTICK

2006-11-07T19:00:00.000-08:00

I'm back. In more ways than one.

Not only is this my first post in almost two months, me and Mrs. Pendleton just got back from hijinx-filled weekend in Colorado. In Colorado, I ran into many fans of FNC and they urged me to get back to the blogging. Well, their support and the many wacky things I saw/did in the Rocky Mountain State has revived my love of the blog.

So here we go. Note: Beer count is totally shot. I have no idea at this minute. I will try to calculate, but it won't be anywhere close.

Now to the blogging, which tonight will be a few observations, notes, rants from Colorado.

First the highlights of the trip.

On Saturday afternoon, me and the Mrs. went to Columbine HS. I know it sounds morbid, but it's a place I really wanted to see. When ripped by one fan of FNC who couldn't understand why I would want to go there, I compared to people going to Pearl Harbor or Ground Zero. I know it sounds wacky, but I think it's a good comparison. It's the scene of one of our nation's darkest days, and also influential. It let parents all across the U.S. know they need to keep an eye on their kids, and if they sense something is wrong or troubling their kids get INVOLED.

Anyway, it was very strange as the HS is right next to a huge park that features several softball fields and football fields and soccer fields. As a matter of fact, when we got there, there were at least 4 softball games going on and a youth football tournament. What was wierd was I felt very somber about being at the HS, but everyone else didn't seem that way. Of course, these folks have lived there the last 7 years - I haven't. Anyway, the most intense part of the trip was standing on the sideline for a CHS JV football tilt. It was very hard core. After the game, my wife and I took a lap around the school. I couldn't help but think of all the poor kids and parents whose lives will never be the same.

OK, sorry about the somber stuff. Here's a brief breakdown of the rest of the trip.

Red Rocks is very cool. I would guess seeing a concert there would be very intense.

The wedding I went out there for was very cool as well. Good times with friends. The one let down was the DJ wrapping up the night with William Joel's Piano Man. The groom and I have discussed this. He told me he was thinking of me when the song was playing. I told him not to sweat it.

Plus, about 2 hours later a friend/comedian of ours got into a great toe-to-toe verbal battle with a 16-year-old carhop at Sonic. Perhaps one of the funniest things I've ever scene.

Boulder, Col is pretty cool. It's like hippie ville. I even did schtick with some cats trying to legalize pot. I was with them until I read their literature, which took aim at alcohol use, basically questioning why is alcohol legal but not pot? Offended by this, I went to the nearest tavern and got completely smashed, the night ending with me and many friends filling a juke box with dollars to play a string of John Denver/Neil Diamond tunes.

The highlight of the trip, however, was a trip to Rocky Mtn. National Park. I'm no nature guy, but this was awesome. The highlight was getting caught in small snowstorm at a place called Bear Lake. Of course, since it was 60 degrees in boulder when we started the day, I had shorts on. I would've loved to spend the day there, but we spent the first half of the day on the CU campus. I think I saw that nutty professor who likes to rip 9/11 victims, but I'm not sure it was him. I tried to tell dames on campus I was a football recruit, but none of them offered me "favors" to become a Buffalo.

Trip ended Monday with dinner in Denver. This is where i really got worked up. WHile my wife and I were sitting at a bar, I heard some business cat sitting next to us describing his house to a coworker. When he used the term "master bedroom" to describe his sleeping quarters I almost lost it.

Ok, listen, I know everyone uses that term, but why? All he had to say was "my bedroom," to the dude. It's his house, everyone fucking knows he'll get the biggest bedroom, but, in the attempt to make himself more important, he has to say "master bedroom," as if it's a fucking oasis. In my hut, the "master bedroom", is about 5 feet bigger than my kids' room, therefore it's called "my bedroom." And then, of course, if you have your own shitter in your own bedroom, it's called the "master bathroom." Pleese. People take themselve so seriously. I felt like ripping into the dude, but figured it would be out of line. I understand why realtors use the term - they are trying to make the house seem more important than it is - but do co-workers talking to each other have to? Please.

Well, it's good to be back. More coming soon.

START THE REACTOR

2006-09-15T13:52:00.000-07:00

OK, I'm still not done with the Most Overrated Musical Acts in History list just yet, but here's something to chew on until then.

On Labor Day I was making a significant addition to the beer count at my neighbor's house when he decided to hook up his I-pod to the docking system he recently got. He told me most of the songs on there were put on by a friend of his. Anyway, most of it was recent tunes.

There was that "You're Beautiful" song by Jim Blunt (???) and "Bad Day" but I don't know who and some song by Shakira about shakin' her arse. Listening to those songs it dawned on me that 80's music is 100 times better than the shit being turned out today. Seriously.

I mean most of the pop music from the 80s is awful, but at least it's frigging music, meaning it's not hip-hop, overproduced, studio-magic bullshit, and it's not puss music.

Say what you want about Huey Lewis or Men at Work or Asia, at least it was lisenable. Music today friggin sux arse.

A few other thoughts.

-- I caught about 10 minutes of Dane Cook's HBO special last week and I have to say Saving Private Ryan was funnier. I know I'm old and out of touch with today's kids, but I know funny when I see it and I didn't see it.

-- Did anyone catch the Suri Cruise photo on the cover of Vanity Fair last week with the "baby" wrapped up in Tom Cruise's coat. My first thought was it eerily resembled Quato from Total Recall, where the alien actually lived in the dude's stomach. Hmmmmm. By the way, speaking of cruise, there's nothing a hate more than someone who wears a suit and tie to a football game. What a dueche.

CRAPPY ANNIVERSARY

2006-09-11T20:33:00.000-07:00

Well, the no-beer till Halloween thing is already off. I had a few Saturday while doing some household chores and then taking Mrs. P out for dinner Saturday night. Our wedding aniversay is actually 9/11, so we usually go out a day or two before the 11th so we don't look like total deuchebags celebrating and saying "Happy Anniversary" on the worst day in the history of this country.

Some other thoughts from the weekend.

1. When did a hooded sweatshirt become a hoodie. What the f-ck is that? Why does everything have to have some cute name? It's a friggin hooded sweatshirt.

2. I got some crap from Sandman about me ripping his musical tastes and he actually challenged me to list my favorite bands. Well, instead of that, in the next few days I'm gonna post my list of the top 15 most overrated acts in music history. And believe it or not, William Joel will not be No. 1

3. Is it me, or are you tired of the NFL already. I mean, I love football, don't get me wrong, but from Pink's awful intro song on "Football Night in America" or shitty calls by awful refs deciding games or two hick brothers going head-to-head, I'm already tired of this crap. By the way, nice job by Tiki Barber doing a commercial for Dish Network, where it claims you get all NFL all the time. It's funny, they don't mention you can't get Sunday Ticket on Dish. I love to see the looks on Giant fans faces when they sign up for Dish - on Tiki's advice - and then realized they can't watch every game on Sunday and are into Dish cash wise for 12 months. Thanks dude.

4. Congrats to Jersey Girl for the whoopin OSU put on Texas Saturday night and the big Jet win Sunday. As for my beloeved Rams - HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE WIN.

Finally, my thoughts and prayers to all who lost family and friends on 9/11. We just have to hope it never happens again.

Beer count: 411.

Stay tuned for the big overrated list in a few days.

SEE YOU IN SEPTEMBER

2006-09-06T10:08:00.000-07:00

Well, as promised, here are the Pendleton Summer Awards.
Editor's note: Due to a high beer count, some good moments of the summer have been totally forgotten. So, If you feel slighted or left out, blame my lack of brain cells and don't take it personally.

Also, the only eligible day are from the Friday before Memorial Day to Labor Day Monday.

WORST DAY OF THE SUMMER: This one is easy. It's Monday, Aug. 14. Here's how the day goes. Pick up Todd at his apartment at 5:00 with the hopes of catching a 5:29 NJ Transit tain to NYC as a first leg to Yankee Stadium. Well, let's just say we got to Metropark at 5:15 and boarded a train at 6:50. 6 Friggin 50. Not only that, some family of five decided that I knew how to get from Penn Station to the Bronx and followed us the entire way there. We finally get to the House That Steroids Built around 8 and proceed to watch the most boring baseball game in history. The highlight of the game is a HUGE, CLUTCH sac fly from A-Rod. To make matters worse, two dopes behind me keep pointing out the Mets score, which was about 15-0 Phillies at the time. When Todd and I get back to Penn Station, we have some time for a quick taste, so we head to Houlihans, which only charges me $6.99 for a pint of Bud Lite. When we finally get back to Edison, we're both a little hungry, but of course, the local Taco Bell is closed. ONLY, ONLY the three cans of Coors Lite provided to me by the Sandman get me through the day.

BEST DAY OF THE SUMMER: This is a no-brainer. It was July 15 - my dad's 80th surprise birthday. Not only were we celebrating the cat's milestone, we were also celebrating his recovery from cancer surgery. The only lowlight was I got snagged trying to get a free taste from a wedding in an adjouning room. Anway, a great day. If this party didn't take place, the Whale taking the Cup would've been No. 1.

BEST PARTY OF THE SUMMER (See how I got around this one pretty good.) AUG. 19. The big Localschill engagement party. It had everything - buckets of free tastes, plenty of schills, clowns and yahoos, attractive dames, the Mets 86 celebration and of course, the chocolate fountain. From what I remember it was a great time.

CONCERT OF THE SUMMER: OK, I only saw one, but the June 6 Allen Oldies Band show at Maxwell's wouldv'e beaten anything anyway. Getting called up on stage to sing "Peanut Butter" was the unquestionable highlight.

BIGGEST DRINKING DAY OF THE SUMMER: Believe it or not, the localschill party is not the winner, neither is the Pops Pendleton party. No, this day is Friday, July 7 It starts with a Friday night softball double-header with the SP K of C. I would estimate I had about 6-7 tastes during the game. Figure in about 6-7 postgame at the field. Then, we headed back to the K of C hall, where free tastes were flowing out of the tap - about 6-7 more. Then, the cat driving me home wanted to stop at the local watering hole - the same place I got in trouble for cursing at - and had about 3-4 more. So that's about 25 tastes in about a 6-hour span.

POST OF THE SUMMER: Despite him calling me a lazy piece of crap and ranking some of the worst bands of all time in his top 100, I gotta go with Sandman's Top 109 post. It's amazes me how one man could have such questionable taste in music and free time, but it was worth it.

BIGGEST MISTAKE OF THE SUMMER: I bought some cheap potato salad Sunday at the local super market. You can figure out the rest.

SECOND BIGGEST MISTAKE OF THE SUMMER: Getting hooked back on this blogging thing. It, like the potato salad, was finally out of my system, but Jersey Girl practically begged me to start blogging again. So here I am.

Believe it or not, the beer count has not grown since my last post yesterday.

If I think of anymore summer awards, I'll post them.

Go IRISH.

COUNT ME IN

2006-09-05T10:24:00.000-07:00

I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.

For the record, I haven't blogged since 7/28. I think I lost interest for a while or just needed some time off for my other favorite activity - drinking.

Anyway, a quick update.

My last official beer count was 171 around the first of June. I figure after a Labor Day weekend that involved hardly any labor, the beer count is around 402. Yes, I more than doubled the count in two months. With wild engagement parties and my dad's 80-surprise party, it's amazing it's not at 500. The only thing that really stopped me was a kid's birthday party last weekend that featured my two most hated words in the world "CASH BAR"

However, if you had the over, you could be in trouble. My goal this entire summer was the keep my weight at about the same I started the summer at, which is around 219 LBS. Remember, when I started this deal on Jan. 2, I was at 240ish.

Now comes phase 2. The goal now is to get to the 205-210 range by early Nov. I think I can do it. On Mon, Weds and Fris, both Pendleton kids will be at school in the morning, giving me time to bike ride and exercise and do other heath-related activies. Also, my new goal is to avoid having any tastes until Halloween. There will be two exceptions to this date. I'm scheduled to go to a Penn State game on Sept. 30. and there will also be plenty of drinking when the Mets either win the World Series or get eliminated from the playoffs.

So, with those two dates in mind, we should be looking at a beer count of about 440 on the morning of. Nov. 1.

Now, on the morning of Nov. 12 expect the beer count to be at 500 after back to back Saturday weddings. Anyway, Stay tuned.

Also, in next couple of days, I'll post my Pendleton Summer Award winners with categories ranging from best shindig to worst day of the summer to everything in between.

Anyway, it's glad to be back.

I think I need a beer.

SCREECHING TO A HALT

2006-07-28T10:12:00.000-07:00

For all fans of Saved By The Bell and our good friend The Professor, this is a must see.

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/2006/07/beldingsings.html

DEAD FLOWERS

2006-07-27T10:29:00.000-07:00

Well, the Glimmer Twins are at it again. In case you missed it, the Rolling Stones are playing Giants Stadium in the fall and tickets went on sale today.

My first reaction was to check out the ticket scene and maybe, out of curiosity, go see these dudes for the first time since they played Shea in 1989. So, I log onto ticketmaster.com, go the Gianst Stadium show and see that there are seats in Sect. 111, Row 40 available. I think, hmmm, not bad seats, maybe I'll check it out.

And then I see that the tickets are $160 each. EACH. And that's before ticketmaster tacks on another $20 convienience charge. So that would be $360 for two tix to see these old bastards on the stage.

It's amazing how these cats, or anyone charging prices like that, get away with it. They are so friggin arrogant, and realize the public is so friggin ignorant, that they charge whatever the hell they want. It's obvious they don't give a crap about their fans. They just care about the almight buck, which, they have plenty of already.

While I'm not a huge Bon Jovi fan I respect the cat for not totally fleecing the public when it comes to concerts. I know some of his seat are quite pricey, but he's not charging $160 each for row 40 of the bottom level.

The bottom line is as long as people keep shelling out their cash to see the Stone do Honky Tonk Woman for the 5 millionth time, they can charge the prices.

On a similar note, a friend of mind went the All-Star game in Pittsburgh two weeks ago. He had pretty awful seats, which, for a Pirates game, would cost $11. Face value for the All-Star game tix with $125. Thanks for nothing Bud.

Some other notes:
-- Who says South Plainfield isn't an exciting place to live. I mean, we have strippers who have human skulls and hands in their house. I'm already in talks for the 41st birthday part. No word on whether or not the hand had $1 bill in it.

-- It looks like Floyd Landis' Tour de France win was a complete sham. In case you missed the breaking news today, he's tested positive for drugs after stage 17. You stay classy Floyd.

-- It's amazing that when your baseball team is playing well, how insignificant the opening of NFL camps is. In past years, I couldn't wait for Bulger and the boys to suit up, but this year I don't give a crap, since it appears October baseball will be played in Queens this year. On another note, I think Omar has something up his sleeve and will pull off a major move before Monday. Just a hunch.

-- One other Met note, does anyone realize a possible showdown with a former Met catcher looms in the playoffs with the Friars playing well in Whale's Vagina.

WILDWOOD DAZE

2006-07-21T19:09:00.000-07:00

The Pendletons just got back from 4 fun-filled days at Wildwood Crest. Beer count skyrocketed as I single-handedly took care of a 30-pack of Miller Lites and a 12-pack of Miller Lites on the trip.

Also, before any tastes were consumed, I lost my wedding ring in the Atlantic Ocean. It slipped right off my finger. Mrs. Pendleton actually took it pretty well. Of course, when she found out I was exploring if that means I'm no longer married, she was a bit steamed.

Anyway, the trip - which concluded with a trip to Margate and Lucy The Elephant - was great.

It was made even better when I returned home and found out this had been emailed to me. You must, MUST, check this out right now.

http://tinyurl.com/fnrpb

TOP 25 PENDLETON ALBUMS

2006-07-11T15:11:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Sandman's Post of the Year Nominee about his top 108 bands of all time, I decided to put my own spin on things. I here am listing the top 25 albums in the Pendleton collection.
A few rules: No compilations, no greatest hits, no soundtracks included. This is just straight up albums. I was gonna include a link to each one, but I'm too lazy.

Here goes

25. THE OFFSPRING: SMASH - OK, rip away at this one. I know they are a clown band, but damn it, 'Come Out and Play' is worth the price of the CD right there. I used to play the crap out of this one back at the old C-N days (must've been all the pent up rage) and I still give it a spin every once in a while. I know once the Pendleton children hear 'Come Out and Play" they will want to hear it over and over again, so I'm holding back for now.

24. BR5-49. The only country entry on the list. If you've never heard of these dudes, do yourself a favor and get this disc. These country swing dudes kick total ass.

23. STEVE MILLER BAND: BOOK OF DREAMS - Of course, anyone who lived through the 70s has Steve Miller's Greatest Hits in their library. Well this album includes many of those hits from that disc and it's still holds up almost 30 years later.

22. DAN BAIRD: SONGS FOR THE HEARING IMPAIRED - Former frontman for the Georgia Satellites scored a hit with "I Love You Period," but really, the whole album kicks arse. A real fun listen.

21. DRAMARAMA: VINYL: Great album. Incredible songs, plus the "Tube Bar" intro to "Haven't Got a Clue," makes it a must own.

20. JELLYFISH: JELLYFISH - Just one listen to "Baby's Coming Back" and you'll know why this is on the list.

19. EVERCLEAR: SPARKLE & FADE: These cats faded away, but their first commercial album is incredible. "Santa Monica" was a big hit, but the real prizes are "Heroin Girl" and "You Make Me Fee Like A Whore."

18. MICHAEL JACKSON: THRILLER: No matter what you want to say about the dude now, he produced a fucking pop masterpiece.

17. FOO FIGHTERS: The Colour and the Shape: Another one that got me through the C-N days. Great tunes from start to finish.

16: NEIL YOUNG: HARVEST MOON: I have to say I don't have much Neil in my collection, but next time you're sitting on a beach banging down tastes, put this disc on.

15: LEMONHEADS: IT'S A SHAME ABOUT RAY: Ok, Evan Dando is a huge douchebag, but this album friggin rocks, and that's before you get to the "Mrs. Robinson" cover.

14. MARVIN GAYE: WHAT'S GOING ON?" I have to say I've never listened to the whole album, but I keep it around on the offchance Halle Berry stops into the Pendleton hut for a little action.

13. LED ZEPPELIN: HOUSES OF THE HOLY: Also not a huge Zeppelin guy, but my buddy Bob Stocker gave me this disc around 1985 and everyonce in a while I pop it in.

12. VAN HALEN: This debut album with DL Roth kicks anything Sam Horrible did with the boys. Could be, COULD BE, one of the best debut albums of all time.

11. LOU REED: NEW YORK - It's the only Lou Reed album I own, but it's incredible. "Dirty Blvd." one of my favorite tunes of all time.

THE TOP 10

10. NIRVANA: SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT - I realize it should be much higher, but for the sake of not being too obvious I leave it here.

9. SMITHEREENS: ESPECIALLY FOR YOU - Another amazing debut. I find myself really getting into "A Lonely Place" lately.

8. JOE JACKSON: LOOK SHARP: This actually could be higher on the list. One of the most underrated albums of all time. You could throw out the hit "Is She Really Going Out With Him" and this disc is still great. In a rarity, every song is great.

7. ROLLING STONES: SOME GIRLS: Another one that should be higher. What can I tell you. A friggin masterpiece from the greatest rock and roll band of all time. "Before They Make Me Run" a personal favorite.

6. FISHBONE: TRUTH & SOUL: Probably the best album you've never heard of. From the cover of Curtis Mayfield's "Freddy's Dead,'" to "Change," these guys put out a great disc before they went completely bonkers.

5. THE BEATLES: ABBEY ROAD: A masterpiece. not much else to say here.

4. PEARL JAM: VS. - Ed Mueller & Co's sophomore effort showed they weren't just some grunge act, rather it showed they have the depth and conscience to have major staying power on the rock scene. (NOTE: That last sentence is my one and only attempt to sound like those a-holes in newspapers the review albums as if they were science projects).

3. RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS: MOTHER'S MILK: This is the album that hooked me on Flea and the Boys. Any band that has Tracy Lords moaning in the backround during a guitar solo (STONE COLD BUSH) is alright with me.

2. THE CULT: ELECTRIC - If not for No. 1, this would clearly take the top spot. If 'Li'l Devil" doesn't get you pumped up, nothing will. An ass kicking time from start to finish.

1. RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS: BLOOD SUGAR SEX MAGIK: Unquestionably my favorite album of all time and, in my humble opinion, one of the greatest albums of all time. Not sure if there's a coincidence that the top 2 albums were produced by Rick Rubin, but maybe there is. Anyway, it's 90 minutes of pure rock, funk and sex. Three of my favorite things.

Well, there you have it. Rip away.

2 MUCH

2006-07-11T09:55:00.000-07:00

Well, I know certain fans of fishingnotcatching are looking forward to Clerks 2, but I have to admit, I've watched the preview for it about 5-6 times and smell a huge bomb.

I mean, with know K. Smith's inconsistency with films (Clerks great, Mallrats terrible, Chasing Amy great, Dogma: didn't see it, Jersey Girl, pure stench, Jay & Silent Bob: didn't see it, heard it's good) you have to wonder.

Also, his semi-recent marriage with Jay Leno and the Tonight Show cause me great concern about this dude. That, plus the fact that he's obviously run out of ideas by going with a sequel, cause me great concern.

Anway, I'm just making a prediction that it will suck. I've been wrong before.

AMERICA, AMERICA

2006-07-04T22:46:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine just clued me in to youtune.com, which has to be the greatest web site ever invented.

Anway, while browsing the site tonight (July 4) I stumbled on to these two amazing videos.

The first is - believe it or not - a serious song, written and performed - believe it or not - by the most famous man ever to emerge out of South Plainfield, the great Dennis Madalone.

A little background on this cat. He was a Hollywood stuntman, appeared several times on "The Greatest American Hero," and even did a little acting. As a matter of fact, in a famous episode of Quincy, he played the guy who shot Quincy. This cat, one time, even jumped off a huge crane at the SP Church fair.

Anway, the second video is a remixing of the first video featuring everyone's favorite movie theme song.

Enjoy the clips and Happy Fourth of July.

Here's the link:
http://www.youtube.com/results?search=Dennis+Madalone&search_type=search_videos&search=Search

Beer count: I've lost count.

WHAT THE F*&% WERE THEY THINKING?

2006-06-27T23:43:00.000-07:00

While sweating my ass off mowing my lawn today, my mind started to wander - and that's usually not a good thing. Well, today, I started thinking about people's motivation to invent some of the great things we have today.

Of course, today, I started thinking about the dude who invented the air conditioner. I'm sure, like me, this cat was sweating his balls off somewhere and finally said "Enough of this shit," and said I have to figure out a way to make it cool in my house even though it's hot outside. What a friggin genius. Anyway, that led me to think about other inventions and their origins.

Here's just a few:

-- Toilet paper. You know some dude was getting tired of that itchy-I-didn't-wipe-enough-feeling in his arse when he came up with the idea for TP. Either that, or he was tired of shoving leaves up his butt. Either way, great job to whoever came up with TP. I wonder if he's the same guy who came up with idea for putting it on a roll.

-- The condom. Somewhere, some dude was banging dames left and right, but also banging out kids left and right. So he probably said to himself. "I can either stop banging dames or cover my penis with something to stop the kids being banged out". Of course, stop banging dames was not an option, so the condom was born.

-- Eggs. OK, not the actual egg, but the idea of eating eggs. Think about it, what sick fuck walked by a chicken, saw the eggs in a nest and thought "I bet if I heat up those unborn chicks, add in some ham, cheese and peppers, I'd have a nice breakfast." Anyway, I'm glad he did.

-- Jock strap. This one I really can't figure out. How did some dude realize the best way to keep from hurting yourself during athletic competition is to pack your balls as tight as they can be against your body? On a related note, you gotta figure the dude who invented the cup took many a shot to the package in his day.

A few other things:
Last Saturday my neighbor and me put up a garage-door opener at my dad's hut in anticipation of his arrival home from the hospital. Anyway me and my neighbor wrapped up around 2 bells and me - being a nice guy who didn't really do much of the garage-door opener installing - offered to buy him lunch at a local watering hole. Well we get into the place and there are about 3 other hard-core cats in there banging down tastes. We order lunch, bang down some tastes and watch the Yankee Old Timer's Day shit on TV. Well, I guess I dropped many an F-Bomb watching David Cone and Darryl Strawberry being lauded as great Yankees that as I ordered my 4th beer, the bartender says to me "I'll give you another one, but you have to watch the language." I wanted to say "Are you fucking kidding me?" but I bit my filthy tongue. As it turned out, an older couple (in their 60s) were having lunch on the other side of the bar. Now, before you rip me, there is a dining room in this place that they could've went to at anytime during my 4-letter-word filled tirade. But they didn't. Plus, if you walk into a dive bar in Central Jersey at 2 p.m. on a Saturday, you should be prepared - rather expect -to hear salty language.

One final note: I've been a Met fan forever, and I still feel there will be some serious drama/tension in this regular season, and by that I mean I can see the Phils or Braves or Fish getting to within 5 or 6 games in late August/early September. It's the Mets. Nothing is ever easy.

That's all for now. I've sort of lost track of the beer count, but promise an updated figure for my next post.

Hmm, I wonder who invented beer.

A WHALE OF A DAD

2006-06-23T00:08:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a while, but with Joe Pendleton Sr. still banged up, blogging not a real big priority right now.

As for Mr. Pendleton, his surgery on Saturday was a success, but he's still in the hospital. Due to the major stomach surgery he underwent, eating is still out. The cat is dying for a big Denny's breakfast, but that could be a while.

While I'm so happy the surgery went well and we believe all of the cancer is gone, it's still hard to see someone you love with tubes coming out of everywhere and pretty much confined to a hospital bed. Still, it beats the alternative.

The one good thing about Pop having surgery this week was my bro from California came to NJ for the weekend. I hadn't seen the dude since Turkey Day, so it was good to see him. We went to see Nacho Libre together Sunday night. It was a tremendous trip. It was my first movie in about a 8 months that didn't feature computer generated characters or a cartoon. It was a great flick. If you're into Jack Black, check it out. Part of the weekend also featured my first trip to White Castle since the big diet began in January. If you really want to enjoy a White Castle, go 6 months without one and then bang down a few. Man, those things are friggin good.

The weekend also concluded with the Whale capturing the Stanley Cup. It was pumped for the Canes win until Gary Bettman got on his knees and sucked off Canes owner Peter Karmanos for believing hockey could work in Raleigh. Honestly, is Afghanistan had offered that dude some cash to build an arena, he would've moved there.

I think the thing I will miss most about hockey being over is Doc Emerick, who, in the last 2 months re-established himself as the best play-by-play man in any sport. The dude could make taking a shit exciting. Wait a minute, taking a shit is exciting.

Speaking of taking a shit, the Pendleton household finally has its new bathroom. Since the week before Memorial Day, we had been w/0 a shower and upstairs bathroom since it was being completely redone. I was taking showers at Mrs. Pendleton Srs house, and, when I couldn't get over there, was washing my hair in the kitchen sink. I wrote a few months ago how underrated a foot is. Let me tell you, a bathroom is even more underrated.

As for the Mets. It's clear they will win the NL East, but I gotta tell you, every Met fan will be holding their breath in October when Billy Wagner comes charging in. The dude has been shaky all season, and will be a huge question mark come October.

That's all for now.
Sorry about the limited schtick. I'm sitting here at 3:15 a.m. typing this in while drinking a Coors Light. How fucking depressing is my life?

HAIR AND NOW

2006-06-15T09:54:00.000-07:00

With my hair starting to get out of control, I popped out of bed early today and headed for the local barber shop. When I say early, I mean 9:30, which is early for me.

Anyway, while sitting in the barber shop half asleep, my mind starting to wander as some short Italian dude got dangerously close to my ears with a pair of scissors.

Anyway, here's a peek into the brain of a tired man.

-- Billy Joel sucks. As I was getting the haircut, the radio played a live version of "My Life." I know everyone loves him, but let's face it, he sucks. Every one of his songs either A: Is pop bullshit; B: Is a cheesy love song, C: Is a tired singalong song. A few examples of each.

A: My Life - very gay, very shitty. We Didn't Start the Fire: Huge piece of shit. Uptown Girl: PURE STENCH.

B: Just the Way You Are: Sure, Christie Brinkley doesn';t need to change, but if you dame is fat and smelly, she could certainly go changing. New York State of Mind: YAWWWWWWWWWN.

C: And this is where I get really wound up. On a much earlier post, I stated there's nothing I hate more than drunk chicks in a bar singing real loud. Well, Piano Man might be the biggest catalyst to this kind of behavior. Only The Good Die Young also promotes this crap. Therefore, I hate both and the man who penned these songs.

Plus, if you look at Mr. Joel's work. He never sets a trend, he just goes with whatever is hot at the time and cashes in. Anyway, the dude sucks.

--- OK, this one will get me ripped, but here goes. Jessica Simpson is not hot. She's not. Sure, great tits, great arse, nice looking mug, but to me, her whole persona ruins it. She's a friggin nitwit - and believe me, while there's nothing wrong with dumb hot chicks - there's something about her nitwittiness that turns me off. Now if the dame arrived on my doorstep looking for some action and Mrs. Pendleton gave me the green light, I'd have to take care of her. But when she's on TV or on the internet or in the series of WHORE mags like STUFF and FHM, I'm not reaching for tissues and flashlight. I'll take Alba any day of the week. She's no Swank, either.

-- Being a barber has to be a shitty job. At least if you're a hair stylist - and not gay - you get the occassional hot dame. But a barber just has to deal with either smelly dudes or insane kids all day. At this moment, it's a smelly dude he's dealing with. I can certainly think of worse jobs, but cutting hair all day has to suck, especially in these PC times where you can't smoke, drink or curse in these barber shops.

-- I really hate that Ann Coulter dame. Ironically, I get what she is saying about the 911 wdows, which is, why should they have such a powerful voice because their hubbies died on 911. But this cunt - my favorite new word - has to rip these broads. Anyway, it's obvious this whore is stirring up just to stir it up and sell some books. The effect she's had on me is I feel no matter who runs on the Democratic ticket in 2008, that person - even if it's Mrs. Slick Willy - has to win. The ultra-conservatism of this country is driving me nuts. It won't be long before the FCC is charging me $350,000 for typing in cunt.

Well, that's it for now. Next haircut in about 8 weeks.

PS. Is anyone else having problems putting pictures on this thing? If you have any tips let me know.

ROLLERCOASTER OF LOVE

2006-06-09T09:58:00.000-07:00

Well, what a week it's been.

Most of you already know, but if you don't, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer on Monday. It was quite a blow for the Pendleton family and needless to say Monday was one of the all-time shitty days.

However, on Tuesday, we got word the cancer has not spread and it is likely it can be removed by surgery, with some follow up chemo. What kills me is the dude has never smoked, is not a big drinker and takes very good care of himself. It just goes to show you never fucking know. Live it up while you can kids.

I've already learned in the last week or so not to get too high or too low and try to stay on an even keel. I'm well experienced in this emotional rollercoaster, being a long time follower of the New York Metropolitans.

Speaking of the Mets and cancer, I asked a young dude I work with the other day how the hell he could still be smoking after watching those anti-smoking ads they run on SNY. The one with the dude with the hole in his neck and cancer kazoo is the most disturbing and most powerful. I swear, if they ever started running ads on TV that beer drinking would do that to you, I would go cold turkey. I swear I would.

Anyway, some other notes:
-- I drove by a big, new Indian food market the other day and a sign out front advertised CUD at 2.99 for 11 pounds. Anything with that name and that price has to take like shit.

-- My all-time favorite movie "Rollercoaster" came on last night on something called the Retrochannel. I only watched the first hour since it was 4 a.m., but man the first 15 minutes of that movie, especially the part where an entire rollercoaster car of people land on their heads is pretty hard core.

-- Speaking of living it up, The Allen Oldies Band (see link on my link chart) will be staging its second annaul East Coast Invasion this weekend. Tonight, they are at Maxwell's in Hoboken. How hard core are these cats? They played 5.5 hours last year - without taking a break. And it's a high-octane, full energy oldies show. Their version of Snoopy vs. the Red Barron might be the greatest live performance I've ever seen.

-- For all you Springsteeners out there, a co-worker of mine told me a friend of his went to see The Boss at Conseco Fieldhut last week and only 4,000 folks showed up. That's nutty. My only indication of the Boss' popularity outside of NJ came in the early 90s, when I went to see him at the Richfield Coliseum outside of Cleveland for the Human Touch/Lucky Town tour. While the crowd was lively, there were plenty of empty seats in the hut. Of course, you can't blame anyone for not wanting to shell out $50 to see Shayne Fontaine.

-- Now to hockey. All I can say is if the Canes win that Cup, one of those dude - maybe Glen Wesley - should parade that bad boy through the streets of Hartford. And then Pete Laviolette should take it and shove it up Mike Modano's arse. Remember, Modano ripped Laviolette after the Olympics.

-- Now for my Yankee venting. I will agree that the catch by Melka Cabrerba was a great catch in a semi-big spot. Remember, it's only June 5. But for a-hole John Sterling to call it the best catch we've ever seen just shows you what a huge schill that dude it. I can name 10 Met catches off the top of my head that were better than that catch. And here they are in no particular order.

-- Tommie Agee's two amazing catches in the 69 Series.
-- Ron Swaboda's amazing catch in the 69 Series.
-- Jay Payton's running, jumping catch in San Fran a few years ago where he literallly took back a ball that was about 5 rows deep.
-- David Wright's barehanded catch.
-- Patrick Howell's (remember him) running catch into the right field wall. I'll say sometime around 1995.
-- David Wright's catch in Seattle last year where he went into the stands to catch a ball. Unlike Derek Jeter, he didn't catch the ball on the field and take 10 steps before diving into the crowd, he actually caught the ball while diving into the crowd.
-- Carlos Beltran's catch the other night at Dodger Stadium.
-- Mike Cameron's catch vs. Astros last year where he fell down, and while laying on his arse caught the ball.
-- Rey Ordonez's diving, over the shoulder catch while heading toward the outfield circa 1999.
-- Cleon Jones' catch to end the 69 World Series.

Anyway, the real problem here is over-the-top hype these Yankee-Red Sox games get. I mean they play 19 times a year. Give it a rest. As for John Sterling, great column in today's NY Daily News by Bob Raissman on Sterling.

That's all for now. Your thoughts and prayers where Mr. Pendleton are concerned a greatly appreciated.

THE OLD MAN AND THE C-WORD

2006-06-02T11:37:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been more than a week since the much-anticipated trip to Fenway for Yanks-Sox. Here are some of the highlights.
-- Not to sound gay, but I do find taking long road trips with a couple of cats pretty fun. I mean, it's great. You get to do a lot of cursing and farting and other shit you would never get away with at home.

Speaking of cursing, halfway to Boston we got into a discussion what an underrated four-letter word the C-word is. I mean think about it, if you are having a bad day at work you - in this day & age, could get away with yelling fuck or shit and nobody would really give you a hard time. But yell something like "Cuntsucker" real loud and people will act as if you shot someone. That's what makes the C-word great, it's may be the only 4-letter word that really still offends people. I'm gonna try to work it more and more into my daily vocabulary.

Speaking of C's (see, I won't even type it in), those Red Sox fans in Boston are exactly that. Need some proof.

-- In the sixth inning of the game, I had to take a mean piss, so I headed for the men's room. Upon seeing the line into the "IN" door was quite long, I did want any self-respecting man would do, I headed right for the "OUT" door. About 10 feet from a nice-open urinal, some a-hole literally hips checks me and pins me up against a wall. So I say, "what's your problem", he says "go in the IN door like everyone else." I say "What, are you the fucking bathroom police?" and he says something like "It's not fair to everyone else." Now me, being the friendly drunk I am, so "you know what, you're right, I'll go to the IN door," and I proceed to follow this dude out of the bathroom. However, the second the dude is about 10 feet in front of me, I do a 360, go back through the OUT door, take a quick piss and head back to my seat.

Two lessons here: First of all, as much as I hate Yankee fans, they would never give me shit for going through the out door. Second of all, I used to wonder why people would ever start fights at a baseball game, but now I know. There are people out there who are just huge cunts.

As for the rest of the game, most of the people at Fenway didn't really give a shit about the game. I think the Sox title in 2004 took all the venom out of the diehards, and, at the same time, prompted all the bandwagoners to scoop up the tix. The most upset I saw the sox fans get was when one of the guys I was with, at about 10:10, annouced to the crowd that Taylor Hicks had won American Idol. You gotta figure most of the a-holes in the crowd were Tivoing the show at home. It was great to ruin their little reality show night.

And then, after the game, some dame (I don't want to overuse the C-word), was busting my balls because I was from New Jersey. She then told me she was from New Hampshire, and I nearly went ballistic, saying how could you rip NJ when you a from a state that's only famous for some bogus primary ever 4 years. What a C%%#.

Now to hockey. Let me say this, the Whale is alive and well in New England. I wore my Whale
jersey to the Sox game, and got literally dozens of comments. And then, when Manny Ramirez took Scott Proctor over the Monsta, they played Brass Bonanza at Fenway. I thought I was in heaven.

Great win for the Whale last night. I'm gonna say Whale in 6, but could be 7. This Rod Brind'amour could become the ugliest man ever to win the Stanley Cup.

As for the beer count, it skyrocketed since the start of the Fenway trip last week.My estimates are about 18 beers in Boston last Wednesday. Nothing Thursday. On Friday, I'll say about 10. About 5 on Saturday at home. About 8 on Sunday at Monmouth Park, and about 10 on Monday at my buddy's hut.

So that's 51 for the weekend. I think the count coming in was about 120, so let's call the beer count 171 right now.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

2006-06-01T10:05:00.000-07:00

Dear fans of fishingnotcathcing. Thanks for your patience. I'm just recovering from last week's trip to Fenway and the ensuing Memorial Day weekend hijinks.

I have plenty to report, but right now must focus on tonight's Canes-Sabres Game 7. Once that is out of the way, expext a full Memorial Day weekend post, with topics ranging from the C-word to my new hatred for the Boston Red Sox and their fans.

Look for new info early Friday.

SWANK AND A MISS

2006-05-21T23:42:00.000-07:00

It's late Sunday night and I'm emotionally and physically exhausted from this weekend.
Believe it or not, I'm drinking just my third beer since last Friday's shenanigans, but am gearing up for a taste-filled trip Wednesday to Fenway.

Anyway, this weekend I did schtick with a two-time Academy Award winner, was shown on Ch. 7 News and even played the role of a bartender. Here's a breakdown of the weekend.

Head to Shea Stadium Friday for a wild Mets-Yankees game. On the 7 train platform in Times Square, who do I spot but none other than the million dollar baby herself, Hillary Swank. Now, Mrs. Pendleton gets mad because I have a habit of saying someone is a celebrity, but it's really just someone who looks like that celebrity, but I knew immediately it was her.

I sat next to the dude she was with on the Subway, and after arriving at Shea and seeing that she busted out a Mets hat, I figured it was time to do some schtick. Here's how the conversation went:

JP: "I'm a big fan of yours, and I don't want you to think I'm stalking you."
HS: (Uncomfortable smile)
JP: "It's nice to see you are a Mets fan
HS: (A little more comfortable smile)
JP: "I mean, most people from Hollywood are fake Yankee fans."
HS: "WHAT?"
JP: "Seriously, they say they are Yankee fans because it's the cool thing to do."
HS: "Well, how do you know I'm not a fake Mets fan."
JP: "Good point. Well, they need all they help they can get, so it doesn't matter."
HS: Laughs.
JP: "Well, enjoy the game.
HS: "You too."
If it wasn't 7:05 at this point and I couldn't see the Mets taking the field while I was still on the subway platform, I would've done a little more schtick, but it was game time.

Once inside Shea, I have to say it was one of the wildest games I ever saw. And it's not everyday you see a Randy Johnson meltdown, an A-Rod error and Mariano blow it in the same game. It was sweet. Also, the dude I was with has a friend who is a ch. 11 cameraman, so the two of us were shown a few times during the game and they even showed us going crazy after the MEts won - a shot that was repeated on ch. 7 news.

Of course, the euphporia of Friday night was immediately wiped out by the crap that went down Saturday afternoon, but Sunday's Met win made it a nice weekend.

As for the bartender gig, as part of a charity event, I worked in a concession stand Saturday night at the Somerset Patriots (unaffiliated Atlantic League bs baseball) game. I was the beer dude/cashier. Let me tell you, that is friggin hard work. I now know why the normal people take their sweet time. It's because A: They don't give a shit and B: The slower they go, the better the odds of people leaving their line and going somewhere else. It really is hard work. It was fun do to it one night, but if I had to make a living doing it, I would shoot myself.

The highlight of the game is the team the Patriots were playing had a dude named Gary Johnson on the team. Of course, that's the name of the main character in Team America World Police, and everytime that dude was introduced I started laughing my ass off.

One last thing, I was watching Fargo on BRAVO Saturday night and those bastards actually cut a lot of the scene between Marge and Mike Yamagida. They cut his whole "I'm so lonely" shctick. I was pissed.

Anyway, that's old Joe's weekend. I'm now going to pop in Season 5 of 90210 - when Swank played the married mom dating Steve Sanders - and pleasure myself.

THEY SAID YOU WAS HUNG; THEY WAS RIGHT

2006-05-17T12:23:00.000-07:00

The beer count made a huge jump Friday night, I'm not exactly sure how many, but it usually takes about 15 to induce vomiting, so let's call it 15.

Yes, Friday night was the first time I heaved due to drinking in quite a long time. Got to say it would be a brutal experience if I wasn't loaded at the time.

Anyway, Saturday morning gave me a good refresher courses in the many different stages of hangover I experience a day after drinking like that. I'm sure everyone's hangover experience is different, but here what usually happens to me.

STAGE ONE: Waking up. The first 10 minutes of the day I'm in pure amazment that I actually feel great and ready to tackle the day. The thought of going for a bike ride or run actually crosses my mind. I just can't believe how great I feel. I can't wait to drink some more tonight.

STAGE TWO (10 minutes later): While I don't have a huge headache, I realize how tired I am. I think I'll just stay in bed.

STAGE 3 (5 minutes later). I think I'm gonna puke again. Man I feel like shit. I'll never drink again.

STATGE 4 (1-2 hours later). After falling back asleeep and waking up, the day actually begins. I'm exhausted, don't feel like eating, and now I'm filled with deep thoughts about how lucky I am to have two great kids, a great wife and live in a nice hut. Then I start thinking about how stupid it is to get drunk and miss out on some moments with the wife and kids.

STAGE 5 (30 minutes later). Paranoia sets in. If I've been out drinking I wonder just how much money I spent, did I go to the MAC machine, if so, how much did I take out. What stupid things did I say, do, try to do. Is my wife pissed at me? Do my neighbors hate me? I can't remember anything.

STAGE 6 (1 HOUR LATER). I have to do something to prove to the wife I can handle this. I get my arse outside, cut the grass or do some sort of chore to show I'm not totally in the tank (which I am).

STAGE 7 (1 HOUR LATER). Extreme tiredness sets in. I want to lay on the couch and watch the Mets. It's a great feeling. I could do this all day, but here comes stage 8

STAGE 8 (1-2 HOURS LATER). EXTREME HORNINESS SETS IN. Not sure what brings it on, but it happens. I get off the couch and find the wife, but she (and I can't blame her) doesn't feel like dropping whatever she's doing to screw a tired, hungover dude who still smells like a brewery. She hints at some nocturnal activity later, and I'm sent back to the couch. Where stage 9 set in.

STAGE 9 (30 minutes later). I fall asleep while watching the Mets or some other sporting event. Problem is, it's like sleeping on plane where you keep waking up and you're not sure exactly how much sleep you are actually getting.

STAGE 10 (1 hour later). Normalcy is returning as is my appetitte. A McDonald's quarter pounder with cheese would be the best meal in this spot, but due to diet and lack of a McDonald's in my back yard, I settle for peanut butter and jelly and some chocolate milk.

STAGE 11 (1 hour later). I'm completely back to my old self. I'm not tired anymore, no paranoia - I'm able to laugh off the entire night before. How do I celebrate? Crack open a cold one.

There you have it.

Some other notes:

-- Speaking of celebrating, good riddance to Marty Brodeur and the douchebag Devils. You know it's the mark of a team on the decline when a division championship team that was talking about the Stanley Cup just a week ago can take it's only solace in the fact that it swept an injury-riddled team in the first round.

-- When the Canes win the Cup, I want two things. I want them to take that damn cup and parade it through the streets of Hartford for the loyal Whale fans. Then, I want Peter Laviolette to take it to Mike Modano's house and knock him over the head with it.

-- Mark you calendar. Friday, June 9: The great Allen Oldies Band will be playing Maxwell's in Hoboken. In a May show there last year, they played from 10 p.m.-3:30 a.m. WITHOUT TAKING A BREAK. If you are free that night, you must go.

That's all for now.

ROWDY RODDY

2006-05-12T13:06:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems the geniuses in Hollywood have done it again - they've remade another one of my favorite movies starring Roddy McDowall.

First, they tried with Planet of the Apes and the result may have been the biggest piece of shiite ever to hit the big screen.

And now, they are trying it again with Poseidon.

In case you haven't seen the orginal Poseidon Adventure (what the hell is wrong with you if you haven't), the great McDowall plays Acres, a ship steward, who comes up with the great idea of helping Gene Hackman out by telling him to climb the upside down X-Mas tree. Of course, poor Acres buys it about 20 minutes later when he falls "down" the big steam pipe on the ship, but his performance is one you will never forget.

Anyway, these clowns in Hollywood have to leave the work of the late great McDowall alone.

I swear if a new Batman movie comes out with someone playing the Bookworm, I may lose my friggin mind.

What's next, a remake of That Darn Cat?

One more Hollywood note: How great is it that Tom Cruise's latest movie is becoming a box office flop. It just goes to show you how much influence religion has in this country. Think about it, the religious right got Bush re-elected and now it is helping ruin the career of a dude who took a nice Catholic girl, knocked her up and turned her into an alien-fearing lunatic.
You stay classy, America.

Som other notes:
Nice work from D.J. Star in threatening the 4-year-old daughter of a DJ at another station on the air. Class move, pal. While it's clear the dude should've been fired and jailed, the real story is the feeding frenzy for Howard Stern's listeners who haven't gotten Sirius yet. I mean, Free FM (lamest name ever for a radio statio) has brought on O & A-hole to Stern's spot. Well you know what boys in terrestial radio, it's not going to work. If people (like me) miss Stern that much, they will get Sirius. If they aren't ready to shell out $13 a month for it, they will likely just put on their I-pods and listen to music instead of some cheap Stern ripoff.

I have to say, if you are a Stern fan and haven't gotten Sirius, you are missing out. He goes about 50 minutes without a commerical, and when he breaks, it's about 2-3 minutes tops. It's friggin hilarious, his best work since Butt Bongo Fiesta.

One last note: If you haven't seen the Aaron Rowand catch from last night, make sure you do. That dude could play for my squad any day.

That's it for now.

PS: Mark your calendars for June 9. That's when the Allen Oldies Band will play Maxwell's in Hoboken. The link to their site is on the left.

PPS: This post is more of a public service to Jersey Girl, who wanted to Star Jones picture removed. This is the best I can do.

DOES THIS MAKE YOU HORNY?

2006-05-08T10:45:00.000-07:00

A few notes from over the weekend.

First, as you'll all notice, I've dumped the black backround. I hope all you whiny bitches out there are happy about this.

Second: The beer count hit triple digits on Saturday (105). As predicted, I banged down many a free taste at the First Communion party on Saturday. I then returned home and had several more freebies on my next door neighbor. I closed out the night with some chinese food. Needless to say, Sunday morning I was the perfect picture of stench.

As for Sunday morning, I played softball for the second straight Sunday. Problem is I didn't properly stretch before hand and therefor my thighs now feel as I just had a 45-minute lap dance from Star Jones. Talk about Stench.

One last thing for all you hockey fans out there. CHeck out this link. http://www.2khockey.net/forums/index.php?showtopic=7762&st=0/

It's an audio file of every NHL goal horn.
Needless to say after Saturday's festivities, the Pendleton children are quite sick of the Hurricanes horn, since it felt as if it were on a continuous loop. I warned them, there is more to come.

I had the Springsteen CD in my hand last Tuesday at Best Buy (I was there to pick up Pearl Jam's latest album - which I must say is pretty damn good), but put it back. I'm going to by my second CD in a week (and the last 10 years) this Tuesday, when the Flea and Boys' latest realease - Stadium Arcadium - hits the shelves. I must say I was really set to buy the Bruce CD this week, but I saw in the Best Buy circular there is a now 2-DVD Poseidon Adventure set out. I already own the original, but if this one has even 10 seconds of Roddy McDowell comentary, consider it bought.

As for Bruce, shame on him for charging $92 face value for tix at the PNC Bank Arts Center. At least the seats where you could sit in the rain and watch the show on a video screen are only $50. Not suprisinly, all the lemmings the Garden State have already scooped up the tickets. I'm telling ya, as a goof, the dude should do a show where he just sits on a couch and watches TV for two hours and see how many people pay out their ass to see that.

Last thing, another great website to check out is www.jerseycitysnakes.com

BACK IN BLACK

2006-05-03T00:16:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the 10-year anniversary of fishingnotcatching.blogspot.com, we've changed the look a little bit. I hope you like it.

A few things:

I just stopped at my local Quick Chek to pick up some milk. On my way out, these two skanky broads were arguing about something or other. As one of the dames walked away, the other dame - with me standing about 3 feet from her - yells at the top of her lungs "I'M THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS TOWN WHO DIDN'T GET LAID TONIGHT AND I'M FUCKING HORNY."

After hearing this, I quickly realized I had three options.
1. Make some sort of wisecrack about how it's quite understandable no dude would ever consider slipping her the bone.

2. Offer her a spot in my backseat to make sure everyone in town has gotten some.

3. Get in my car, lock the doors and get the fuck out of there.

Of course, I chose 2 (just kidding). I really wanted to go with No. 1, never considered No. 2, but chose door No. 3 and got the fuck out of there.

As I sit here typing this, I realize that I've been wrong all my life.

You see, I've always lived with the belief that any dame (hot or ugly, fat or smelly) could have sex whenever she wanted. For every ugly dame out there, there is an even hornier, more shamless dude. But seeing that this dame, who clearly had no reservations proclaiming not only her horniness, but her absolute desire to act on it, couldn't get any standing in front of a convenience store at 3 a.m., I realized that premise was incorrect.

You learn something new everyday.

Onto the next subject: Thinking about my beer count this week and targeting specific high-volume dates, I realized May could drive the count well over 150 (it's about 98 right now).

Here are the dates:
Today, May 3: I'm off from work and am planning a nice night in front of the TV watching Mets-Pirates and then Flames-Ducks. Predicited amount: 6 tastes.

Saturday, May 6: Going to a first communion party during the day, hockey playoffs at night. Predicted amount: 10 tastes.

Skip ahead to Weds, May 25: Me and three friends are heading to Fenway for Yankees-red Sox. We plan on arriving in Beantown around 1:30 p.m. for the 7 p.m. start and head back to Jersey on Thursday morning. 1 t hing to remember, our hotel is within walking distance of the Fens. (Predicited amount: 25 tastes: Figure about 10-12 before the game, 2-3 during the game, 8 postgame).

Friday, May 27: The National Holiday known as Saw Mill Day. Back in the day, me and two friends would head down the Saw Mill on the wonderful Seaside Heights boardwalk and drink Mickey Big Mouths all day to kick off Memorial Day Weekend. Now, it's a few friends in my backyard playing Wiffle ball for a few hours and drinking (Predicted amount: 10 beers).

Sunday, May 29: My wife's brother's brother in law rents one of those picnic boxes at Monmouth Park and provides us with free food and tastes all day (Predicted amount: 10 beers)

Monday, May 30: Memorial Day. My kids enjoy heading to lovely Somerville New Jersey for a bike racing event called the Tour of Somerville. I believe you can drink in public this day, but I will keep the count down since I have to return to work on Tuesday (Predicted amount: 4 beers).

So that's about 65 and that's not including random tastes with the neighbors on the weekends. I'll keep everyone posted.

again, I hope you like the new look and go Whalers.

AN OPEN LETTER TO BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN

2006-04-23T22:00:00.000-07:00

Beer count: 90

Dear Boss:

You know I'm one of your biggest fans. I have most of your CDS - even the Ghost of Tom Joad. I plunked down $40 this year for a digitally remastered copy of Born to Run (don't tell anyone, but I sounds exactly the same) and I've seen in you in concert several times, dating back to my first show in June of 1984.

I'm proud to call myself a New Jerseyan mostly because of you (and Rutgers University) and even own High Fidelity on DVD just because of your 45-second cameo in that fine film.

Yes, I've supported you your entire career. That is, until now.

After taking a quick listen on the web to your latest project (We Shall Overcome: The Pete Seeger Sessions), I have one question? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING?

First of all, what is this "We" shit. What exactly do you have to overcome? Is is the guilt of charging your fans $100 to see you practice this crap live, or is it just the realization that since Tunnel of Love, you've pretty much been a non-factor when it comes to popular music?

Second of all, if I want to hear some dude singing Cumbaya with a jug band behind him, I'll go to the backwoods of Kentucky and do it, or go see The Country Bear Jamboree at Disneyworld, not buy one of your albums.

Listen, I understand your need to let the rest of the E Street Band know who's Boss every once in a while by freezing them out, but this is enough. You made your point with that Lucky Town/Human Touch crap and reinforced it with Tom Joad. They get the point. They need you, you don't need them. But you know what, your fans need them.

Now I'm not talking about your disciples. You know the ones who will see you in concert every night of their lives and would buy a 25-disc set of you taking a shit.

No, I'm talking about the fans who will go see you once or twice during a tour and purchase most of your albums. It's almost as if you are testing their faith and loyalty with crap like this.

Or is it something else? Is is because you know even your E Street Band stuff isn't up to par with the music from the good old days, so you put out these crap albums, leave your fans starved for good some old rock and roll, and when you finally release it, they love it?

I mean let's face it, one it's own "The Rising" is a cliched bore, but when you put it up with the albums that preceeded it, it's a rock classic.

Now I do appreciate you trying to spread the good works of Pete Seeger to the masses, but just promise me this is it. Promise me next summer, you'll release another E Street Band album and play 8 nights at Giants Stadium. You see, I don't get many excuses to get loaded in a huge parking lot anymore, so please do me this one favor.

I hope you don't take offense to this letter, rather I hope you read it and do the right thing and give me more songs about cars and chicks and living at the beach. It's what your fans want, it's what the E Street Band wants, and deep down, it's what you want. Bruce, maybe We Shall Overcome.

Love,
Joe Pendleton

THE PLAYOFF BEARD

2006-04-19T19:36:00.000-07:00

Beer count around 80ish.

In honor of two historic occassions: The birth of Suri Cruise and the Rangers making the playoffs, I have decided to grow the playoff beard.

In case you don't know what that means, basically, many hockey players believe it is back luck to shave during the playoffs, so therefore most of them shave the morning of Game 1 and don't pick up a razor again until they are eliminated or win the Stanley Cup. I therefore, will shave Saturday morning and won't do it again until the Rangers are bounced, so there is a chance I'll only have about 6-days growth before I have to shave again.

As for the Cruise angle. It's obvious, Katie Holmes is the biggest beard going, so she works into this too.

As for my Devils-Rangers breakdown - in a total grasping at straws move - I believe the Devils HAVE to cool down a bit and the Rangers have to get hot. We'll see. Maybe Marty Brodeur's sister-in-law will wear him down. Hey, anything's possible.

Anyway, no matter what the Rangers or Devils do, I predict a Carolina-Calgary Stanley Cup Final, with the stinky Whale winning the whole thing.

THE CHRONICLES OF PENDLETON: THE JAGR, THE STRIPPER AND THE JACKET

2006-04-17T08:49:00.000-07:00

It finally dawned on me why the New York Rangers haven't won the Stanley Cup since 1994.
No, it has nothing to do with Garden mismanagement, Bryan Trottier and Glen Sather, rather it has everything to with a satin jacket, a once-exhuberant 29-year-old man and an anonymous stripper from Sayreville.

Intrigued? Good.

Here's the story: Way back in December of 1994, Joe Pendleton (the 29-year-old at the time still basking in the Stanley Cup win 6 months earlier) and cronies from a now-defunct NJ newspaper went to Bourbon Street in Sayreville for a little celebration. Pendleton, who was just turning 29 and was full of Ranger pride, wore his Starter blue satin Ranger jacket to the fine establishment.

After a few tastes and a few dollar bills were "dipped" a certain "very vocal" friend of Mr. Pendleton got the idea that the ideal birthday present would be the "entertainer" at the establishment wearing the Ranger jacket on stage. It sounded good to old Joe.

So the friend called the girl over, "whispered" in her ear and before Joe knew it, the jacket was off his back and flying toward the stage. Now, back in the old days at the girls liked to bend the "non-topless rules" a bit. This one, however, decided every dress code rule would be broken this evening.

Seconds after the jacket hit the stage, the dancer was wearing it - and nothing else. Needless to say, even Devil fans in the place celebrated this move. Dollar bills flew like tickertape in the canyon of heroes.

Soon after the jacket was returned and Pendleton headed to his Franklin Twp. apartment. However, as he got closer to home, Mr. Pendleton realized that his jacket had the distict powdery smell every classy dancer in NJ seems to possess. So Pendleton, fearing the wrath of Mrs. Pendleton, secretly put the jacket in the back of his closet and never brought it out again.

A few years later, the Pendletons would move, and the jacket made the move, too, but - amazingly - still featuring a hint of the smell, the jacket was once again relegated to the back of the closet. Coincidentally or not, since the Jacket has been hidden away, the Rangers have gone completely cupless.

Fast forward to today (April 17, 2006). Joe Pendleton, while doing some spring cleaning in his closet, finds the jacket, and, in an attempt to change the struggling Blueshirts' fortunes, moves it to a more prominent spot in the closet. He's ever considering wearing the throwback jacket Friday night, when the Atlantic-Division champion Rangers take on the Flyers or Devils. Needless to say, with the jacket back in circulation, the Cup will once again be delivered to Madison Square Garden.

Now, if he can only get the BO stains that were put on his Met jacket in Nov. of 1986 by some smelly whore in Newark, maybe Shea Stadium will rock again.

LET'S GO RANGERS

RANT MUSIC

2006-04-14T18:17:00.000-07:00

Ok, it's been a while. The beer count is around 75. Something about the warm weather makes we want to bang down tastes. Anyway, t0 get a better idea of what goes on between my ears, here are a few random thoughts from the mind of Joe Pendleton.

1. I used to think the easiest job in America was hosting America's Funniest Videos. Seriously, all you have to do is do schtick at about 10 seconds at a time in between clips of dudes getting hit in the balls. Now, my kids watch this show on syndication - it's constantly on WGN - and they love the current dude Tom Bergeron. Again, I used to think it was a cake job, but recently WGN has been showing the season with Daisy Fuentes and John Fugelsang and let me tell you, those two fucking suck huge ass. Daisy Fuentes - who, back in the day, was grossly overrated looks wise, but was a pioneer in the Latin whore phenomenon, could be the worst "talent" ever on TV. If you get a chance watch the show, it's on WGN at 7 p.m. every night just to see how God awful she is. It's painful.

See, I told you a trip into my lid may not be pretty.

2. I went to a Little League game the other day to catch the neighbor's kid in action, and I have to say I came away disgusted and vocally wondering what's happened to this country. First of all, there is no smoking allowed anywhere on the complex. I mean, tobacco and baseball go together like football and beer. What the fuck? Since, I don't smoke, I really don't care, but then the game starts, the first kid comes to bat and there's complete silence. No 'Hey, batter, batter, swiiiiiiiiing batter chants." No 'WE want a pithcer, not a belly itcher" chant from the batting team's dugout. I mean, is this world so fucking politically correct that the other team can't try to induce the other kid to swing at shitty pitches - which, by the way, is all they see? These kids are gonna watch Ferris Bueller a few years from now and not know what the hell he's saying during that scene in Wrigley. And then they have a rule that a team can only score 3 runs in an inning. ONce they get to 3 runs, the inning is over. The KC Royals should implement that rule. Of course, no tastes anywhere. Somewhere, Morris Buttermaker is spinning in his grave.

3. Since I mentioned smoking, two things. This commercial they run duing the Mets games about a dude with cancer telling people to quit smoking is the most powerful ad I've ever scene. If I did smoke, I'd stop or go broke. And finally, a big shout out to Dick Cody for getting the NJ smoking ban passed, a ban that goes into effect on April 14. For all of you who smoke out there, I'm know it's an inconvenience to go outside and smoke, but it's a bigger inconvenience for non-smokers to smell like shit for three days after going to a bar. With clear skies in local bowling alleys, I can see scores going up all over the state.

4. He's only been a Yankee for about a week, Johnny Damon has moved ahead of Derek Jeter and A-Rod on my most-hated list. For a man who a year ago said he would never play with the Yanks, you get the impression now that he goes home every night and tosses off on his pinstripes. He almost makes A-Rod seem sincere. Since we are talking baseball right now, a quesiton for you Yankee fans: If Omar calls Brian Cashman tomorrow and offers D. Wright for A-rod, striaght up, do you do it? From a Met standpoint, I say no fucking way.

For all of you people out there trying to figure out a way to entertain young children, Ice Age 2 the Meltdown was quite entertaining. Of course, I saw it at the theatre in Dunellen, NJ in which they bring pizza and beer to your seats, so that didn't hurt either.

Happy Easter and Happy (is that the right word?) Passover to everyone out there.

RADIO DAZE

2006-04-04T08:39:00.000-07:00

Since everyone is fired up over my post over the Wagner/Mo controversy created by two certain clowns in NY, my thought was we come up with a new entrance song for them.

So here are a few of my suggestions and then you guys can add your own. These are in no particular order:

1. He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother - The Hollies.

2. American Idiot - Green Day

3. Eat It - Weird Al Yankovick

4. Out of Touch - Hall and Oates

5. Bitch - The Rolling Stones

6. Girls Talk - Dave Edmunds

7. Wedding Bell Blues (Which features the lyrics "I wanna marry you Bill") referring to a certain Dallas Cowboy Coach.

8. Guerrilla Radio - Rage Against The Machine

9. I hate the Mets - Some Dopey Yankee fan

10. The Sounds of Silence - Simon and Garfunkle

ENTER FATMAN

2006-04-03T17:14:00.000-07:00

Baseball season is here and New York already has its first baseball controversy.

In case you don't live in New York or just have the common sense not to spend your day listening to the two arrogant a-holes on New York's sports leader, you may have missed the two of them ripping new Met closer Billy Wagner for having "Enter Sandman" played when he came into the game in the ninth inning today. Their reasoning is, the song belongs to Mariano Rivera and therefore Wagner - despite the fact that it has been his theme song for several years - should literally change his tune. Of course, the two radio hosts - both Met haters and Met fan agitators - are completely wrong again, and here's why.

1. I guarantee, GUARANTEE, that Billy Wagner actually picked the song for himself, while Mo didn't. Think about it, Wagner is a white dude from West Virginia, and Mariano is from Panama. Who do you think actually likes Metallica? Honestly, what are the chances some dude working the Yankee Stadium PA system picked that out for Rivera and what are the chances that Wagner actually heard the song on the radio and said "that sounds like a good song for me."

2. Wagner has been a closer since 1996. Rivera started in 1997. The song came out in 1996. Therefore, chances are they both have been using the song the same amount of time or Wagner actually adopted it first.

3. Last time i checked the Metallica black album, there are no writing or publishing credits for a M. Rivera on the album. He has no more friggin rights the song than Wagner does. F him.

4. Yankee fans honestly believe they not only invented baseball, but they, because they root for a team who's payroll is twice of it's nearest competitior, think they carry more clout in the sport. Well, f them, too. I think the fact that Wagner plays the song infuriates them is the No. 1 reason to keep playing it. Hell, the Mets should crank it when Anderson Hernandez comes to bat.

5. What are the Mets supposed to do? Tell their $13 million closer that "We really like you, but we don't want to offend the greatest franchise in sports, so you have to change your song." And what is Wagner supposed to do? Change his song because it may offend some dopey guido in the Bronx who couldn't spell Metallica if his sorry life depended on it.

In closing, F the Yankees, F Mike and the Mad Dog and F Metallica (the song is overrated anyway). Rock on William Wagner.

NEIGHBOR-HOODS

2006-03-27T16:07:00.000-08:00

Beer count: I'm gonna say it's up to about 48. I had 4 the other night in the city while attneding a fund-raiser (they got no funds out of me, though) and had about 8-9 at the Big St. Paddy's Day party on Saturday.

Either I'm getting older, or I'm just a drunk or I have no life (or all of the above), but that damn party is one of my favorite days of the year. The dude who runs it has a great party house if you have kids. He has this downstairs room where they pretty much entertain themselves for hours while the parents stay upstairs, drinking, eating, golfing and watching hoops.

Now, I did get ripped by a guest at the party and the dude was absolutely right. I arrived wearing my Guiness pants and a Guiness hooded sweatshirt. However, I wasn't in the mood to drink the stuff, so I was pretty much drinking Miller Lite all night. Some dude called me on it, pretty much saying how could a walking Guinness ad drink Miller Lite. I realized he was right, so I had 1 Guinness and then stopped drinking. Awful job by me.

SPeaking of hooded sweatshirts, I have a piece of advice for anyone out there. If you spend a lot of time at work on the phone, don't wear a hooded sweatshirt. It becomes a real pain in the ass, especially if you have one of those neck things on your phone that prevents Frezzaitis. Of course, on Sundays, I usually bust out the hoody and get easily frustrated.

Now, picking up my homeowners rant from the last post, I just spent $150 today on lawn care stuff and can estimate at least another $150 to go before I can spend 8 hours Saturday and 8 hours Sunday trying to make my grass look good. Of course, no matter how hard I work and how much I spend, it will look good until about mid-July, when New Jersey becomes a dry, barren wasteland and all grass turns to hay. I'm thinking of having the cement dude just pave over the whole yard and can build a hoop court in the backyard.

Anyway, Opening Day just 7 days away, but as long as the Rangers are in the hunt for the Cup, I'm not too fired up for baseball, yet.

PRESSING YOUR LUCK

2006-03-23T10:51:00.000-08:00

From the huge-story-of-the-week-that-completely-slipped-under-the-radar file, did anyone see last week that former "Press Your Luck" host Peter Tamarkan was killed in a small plane crash last week. It happens. However, Tamarkan and his wife - who was also killed - were on their way to pick up a cancer patient and fly him to a special clinic as part of a charity deal.
Can you fucking believe that? Not only does that suck for Tamarkan and his dame, imagine how the cancer dude feels? Talk about being jinxed. I guess all three of them got the ultimate whammy.

A few other thoughts:

If you don't own a house, don't start now. I just wrote a check for 2Gs for a new sidewalk. A sidwalk. It's not something me and family can enjoy on a hot summer afternoon or I can show off to friends and family.

I had to get it done because my old sidewalk was cracked and at parts, uneven. Basically it was a risk in case some kid wiped out on his scooter and his money-grubbing parents decided to cash in. Don't laugh. A few years ago in my neighborhood, some kid got hit in the mouth with a Wiffle ball bat (that's right a Wiffle ball bat), in the backyard of a friend. Now get this, it wasn't even the yard of the kid who swung the bat, so the parents of the kid who got hit with the bat sued the homeowner's insurance company of the people who's yard it happened in and that of the people who's kid did the swinging. I assume they won since the dude hardly works yet owns a brand-new SUV and just installed a huge above-ground pool in his yard. What a great country we live in.

Speaking of our great county, nothing makes me more irate than when the AP moves a Top 5 list of the top songs, TV shows and DVD rentals in this fine land. First, the TV. Every week, American Idol is No. 1 and No. 2. HOw can this be? Are Americans that dumb that they have to watch some English dude rip wannabe stars two nights a week. Doesn't anyone read anymore?

Then, there the song lists. I don't recognize any of the songs and/or artists and it's not because I'm old, it's because I don't listen to Hot97. Honestly, I know 80's pop music - for the most part - is pure shit, but damn, it's better than this crap being put out these days. I mean, I'll take Karma Chameleon any day of the week over this crap.

As for movies/DVDs. It's scary how many kids movies and DVDs rule the roost. It's pretty much because parents would rather have Spongebob and Barbie babysit their kids (I'd love to have Barbie babysit my kids, by the way, HEY NOW) instead of watching them themselves. By the way, as I type this, my kid is on Hour 3 of Dora the Explorer.

Anyway, a few rants after giving a big check to dude for putting concrete all over my front yard.

Happy Spring to all.

WHO DOES NO. 2 WORK FOR?

2006-03-20T15:40:00.000-08:00

Beer Count: I'm estimating it's about 30-35 right now after a wild St. Paddy's day.

It started out kinda slow, first taste around 2:30 on Friday. About 11 hours later, I was cooked. So cooked, that when I woke up Saturday morning, I immediately remembered why I quit drinking in the first place.

First of all, I felt like complete crap. Speaking of crap, let's just say the Guinness that exited my arse Saturday morning looked exactly like the Guinness I was pouring down my throat Friday night. Same color, consistency, stench.

And then, about 2 hours later, I was trying to cut down a big bush in my first yard and I swear I almost passed out.

As for Friday night, my buddy Gerry and I hit the local Irish bar in town. Things were going pretty well, when - on about my 9th Smithwicks, I started yapping with some tired broad and she brought up how much she loved the Yankees. Now, I can spot a fake yankee fan a mile away, and she was one. Of course, in my drunken state, I had to make her prove what a great Yankee fan she was, and therefore put her to the test.

Question 1: What is Derek Jeter's number?

Her answer: Complete silence.

Now, had I been completely sober, I would've ripped her a new one. So, needless to say, I friggin hammered her. About 45 minutes later, she was telling me to f--c off and so on and so forth. I was quite proud of myself.

On the way home from the bar, another friend informed me that not only was the dame a psychopath, but she is the person who is in charge of hot lunches at my daughter's school, and I should be prepared to make a lot of PB&Js the rest of her grammar school career.

So with that guilt on my aching head Saturday morning, I swore I was giving up drinking for a long time. The problem is, I have a big St. Paddy's Day party to attend this Saturday. It will be a real test. My goal is to not have a drink until Memorial Day weekend, but that could all go to hell around 3:30 p.m. this Saturday.

Stay tuned for more details.

IMITATION OSCAR

2006-03-06T14:52:00.000-08:00

Beer count: 14

After watching last night's Oscars, I realized two things.
1. I'm so glad I don't go to the movies that much anymore, because if Crash is the best movie of last year, I'm not missing anything.

2. The best actor/actress category has to be refined.
This second one comes from my friend Joe, who brought up a great point last night. He says people who portray famous people in a movie shouldn't be eligible for an Oscar. And you know what, he's right. I mean, Reese Witherspoon and Phil Hoffman did a nice job, but really all they are doing is imitating someone famous. All they had to prepare for their role was watch film of the person and do whatever they did. Piece of cake. I mean, Jim Carrey had to come up with character of Lloyd Christmas all by himself. All HOffman did was imitate Capote. I'm sure somewhere Rich Little is kicking himself somewhere, realizing he could've won about 100 Oscars in his prime.
Plus, if you play someone famous, and do it well, most movie-goers are blown away by your performance because they have a point of reference to judge your performance against.

Now, back to Crash. If you haven't seen it - DON'T. Ir you really want to, don't read on. If you have seen it, my biggest complaint is the movie is too far-fetched. I mean, of the thousands of cops running around L.A., how it is that Matt Dillon pulls over a dame one night and the next day, he's the first cop on call when she's involved in an accident. And for Ryan Witherspoon, the same thing happens to him. I mean, that wouldn't happen in a town of 15,000 people, let alone L.A. It was too forced, too coincidental. I think Oscar voters would rather come off as homophobic than racist and that's why this flick won instead of Brokeback.

To me, the best movie of last year was "Batman Begins" but that's just me.

THREE FOR THE ROAD

2006-02-27T16:55:00.000-08:00

Well, ask and unfortunately, you shall recieve.

Just a few hours ago, in a post dedicated to Don Knotts and Darin McGaven, I wondered who the 3rd celeb to die would be.

As it turns out, Mr. Dennis "McCloud" Weaver, has also checked out. Not only did all three die on Friday, all three's first name began with a 'D'. Freaky, eh?

Not only was Weaver the star of McCloud and Gunsmoke, he also starred in Steven Speilberg's first ever movie - a little TV film called Duel.

Anyway, adios Don, adios Dennis, adios Darren.

By the way, in between the last post and this one, I had a beer. It was my first beer in about a week and just No. 14 on the year. I have to tell you, for the first time, I really, thoroughly enjoyed it. Usually, I drink beer just to drink, but this one - a Miller Lite - in a nice glass, was quite refreshing.

ADIOS, MR. LIMPETT

2006-02-27T14:20:00.000-08:00

Beer count still at 13, but after this weekend's celebrity deaths, It could very well rise.

First Don Knotts goes out on Friday. While most folks in their 30s will remember his as Mr. Furley from Three's Company, I remember him from the film the "Incredible Mr. Limpett." It's a story where a dude becomes a fish. Don't remember anything else, but I remember that. Of course, Knotts will be remembered for his role as Barney Fife on the Andy Griffith show. Also, he starred in the greatest disney movie ever - Gus. It's a film about a field-goal kicking donkey.

As Barney, he was the original 40-year-old virgin, though I hear in real life old Donny boy was quite the stud. Three's Company was more likely a title of a show abuot life in his trailer.

Then, on Saturday, Darren McGaven checks out. Most remember him as the dad in an X-mas Story, but I remember him most as the dude on the Night Stalker show.
Funny thing I never watched that show, because the commercials themselves scared the hell out of me. By the way, if you've ever wondered what happened to Ralphie, that's him above Knotts. As you can, I haven't figured out hte photo deal yet.

Now, we all sit and wait for No. 3 to go out. I wonder who it will be.

If you get a second check out this website www.metallagher.com

Last thing. A new feature on FNC will be a mystery photo. Please tell me who this former child star is on the very top.

WORKING FOR THE WEEKEND

2006-02-20T14:26:00.000-08:00

A few notes from the Presidents Holiday Weekend.

1. Beer count upped to 13 (read below for details).

2. I did get some news about a huge bump in the beer count. My buddy Steve won a ticket lottery and now has 4 ticks to Yanks-Red Sox at Fenway on May 24 (a wednesday). The big trouble is, it's a likely 5 p.m. start, which means I roll out of the ballpark around 8:30 in Beantown. Look for a double-digit intake that night.

3. My goal is now to not have another beer until St. Paddy's day, where there's little doubt, the beer count can double (from 13 t0 26).

4. I did realize Saturday night that people are generally stupid. My wife and I went to see Martina McBride at Radio City. Let me say, I'm not a country music cat, but she put on a great show and she's quite easy on the eyes. Anyway, they were selling about 8 oz. Martina Rita's at the show for $10 each. I saw hundreds about people drinking these things - at $10 a pop. I really wanted one, but refused because A: I wouldn't pay $10 for any drink unless it included a lap dance from McBride, 2: I wouldn't pay $10 for a drink where most of the money was going into Dolan's pockets and 3: I'm a cheap bastard, I mean, I generally refuse to pay overinflated prices at a concert (sorry, but $35 for a t-shirt that will last 2-3 trips to the washing machine, is a little too much).

5. NASCAR is a joke. Listen, I know millions of people are into it, but this rule that a race can end under a caution flag is a friggin joke. Imagine a baseball game where some dude on the bench for one of the teams gets hurt and they end the game right there. I can't imagine watching cars driving in circles for 3 hours only to have it end like that.

6. If the NHL allows its players to participate in the next Olympics, they need to impliment some sort of system where players can be disciplined for shit that goes on over there. Of course you know I'm whining about that hit on Jagr the other day. If Rutuu had done that in the NHL, he would be suspended at least 2-3 games. However, since he did it at the Olympics, nothing happened to the dude. So, if Todd Bertuzzi takes a stick to someone else's head, he could be suspsended for a few olympic games, but then skate right back into action when the NHL season resumes. Something's not right there.

7. Speaking of the Olympics, I'm red, white and blue as they come, but it dawned on me watching Team USA's game Sunday vs. Sweeden that I pretty much hate every dude on Team USA (except for Chelios, who I met once and was really cool.) Besides that, the rest of them are a-holes I always root against. Maybe if Leetch was there, I'd be more fired up.

8. With Ash Wednesday coming this week, I'm trying to think of something to give up. The problem is, all my vices (beer, soda, fast food, sweets) have already been given up. Maybe I'm cease ripping folks for a 40 days, but we'll see. If you have any suggestions, let me know.

That's all for now.

Love, Joe.

BREAKING NEWS

2006-02-17T16:55:00.000-08:00

Beer count skyrockets to

13.

OK, so it's just one beer, but it's my first since Jan. 2. It was Miller Lite draft at ---- a movie theatre.

In wonderful downtown Dunellen, there's a movie theatre that has a bar attached to it. You can order pizza or whatever ever food they sell at the bar and they deliver it to your table - that's right, your table.

Me, the Mrs and kids went to see Curious George and that's where I had the taste.

If you have kids or just enjoy getting loaded at a kid's movie, this joint is for you.

Don't expect Dolby sound or anything like that, but at $6 a ticket ($4 for kids), it's worth it.

THey even have a deal where you get two tickets, a pizza and a pitcher of beer for $22.

Stay tuned for other beer count updates, but don't hold your breath.

WAYNE'S WHIRL

2006-02-10T09:41:00.000-08:00

Beer count: Still at 12.

Some random thoughts from this week.

1. Who would've ever thought a member of the Flyers would be involved in illegal activities. Shocking.

2. People are ripping Wayne Gretzky saying "didn't he wonder where the $500,000 grand went." Well, I think he's spent most of the time wondering where how she went from this to this.

3. I was thinking about Wayne Gretzky on my way home last night. Think about this, his entire life, he's never - EVER - had to answer ONE question about his off-the-ice actions. NEVER. NEVER. And now, because some dopey ex-Flyer and his dopey wife want to bet $5,000 on a coin flip, he's getting badgered everyday. Women.

4. I won't get pumped up for the Rangers until everyone is home from Turin in one piece. Speaking of the Rangers, I don't care what Sid Crosby is doing or what Alex Ovechkin is doing, this Hank Lundqvist is the NHL rookie of the year, and quite possibly, the regular season MVP - though the honor could go to Jags.

5. Is there something wrong with Dick Vitale? His voice sounds shot and hoarse all the time. What's up there?

6. Gotta say I'm not too fired up for spring training this year. I have a bad, bad feeling about the Mets this year. I mean, a lot of people say they didn't get much better, but honestly, swapping Looper for Wagner is a big improvement right there. Plus you have Delgado at first instead of Doug "I suck" Mientkiewicz. Plus, Wright and Reyes can only get better (right?) and Beltran had to get better (right?) . Still, with a pitching staff looking older than Janet Jones, I have some serious concerns. THe only bright side is, the rest of the division, besides the Braves, suddenly sucks. The Marlins will blow, and the Phillies - well, they have Arthur Rhodes setting up for Tom Gordon. The Nats, they should be good, but they don't worry me. Really, the Mets worry me.

7. Might have a beer this weekend. The last time a major snowfall hit, me and my neighbors had a shovel/drinking party outside. So stay tuned. If I can make it through this weekend without a taste or two, I may be able to hold out until St. Patty's Day.

That's all for now. Enjoy the snow, and Happy Valentine's day to everyone.

THE TOILET BOWL

2006-02-06T14:21:00.000-08:00

Before I start my rant on the Super Bowl, a big shout out to my brother mike, who won a Writers Guild Award Saturday night in Hollywood for a Simpsons episode he wrote. Not only that, he got to do schtick with Seth Green, who presented the award. Congrats Mike.

OK, everyone is weighing in on that awful Super Bowl Sunday. It was the first SB in a long time where neither team deserved to win. But mostly what I took from yesterday's game was:

1. Football sucks. OK, it's a great sport, don't get me wrong. I love it. But ... the rules of the game and the way it is officiated is awful. First the little stuff. Any sport that pretty much hinges on 50-year-old men spotting a ball where they think it should go from 40 yards across the field is just asking for trouble. Any sport that has 50-year-old men trying to keep up 25-year-old muscle heads is asking for trouble. At least in baseball, the fat umps don;t have to move that much. In NBA the court is small enough and in the NHL, the refs are amazing skaters and, for the most part, young enough to keep up with play.
Now, the big thing. I propose, and I hope Mr. Tagliabue is listening, that from this day foward, the ENTIRE ball has to cross the plain for a TD to count. Sort of like hockey, where the entire puck has to cross the goal line for a goal to count. That TD Big Ben scored yesterday might've been the softest TD in the history of football. Let me ask you this, if you are playing football with your friends and try to say that's a TD, they would kick the shit out of you. Imagine a game where dudes hammer each other all day long comes down to a pussy TD where - maybe 1 centimeter of the ball, scratched the goal line.

2. I hate Super Sunday. It's like the Kentucky Derby and shit like that. People that couldn't give a shit about football all year long come out in droves to watch this spectacle. Let's face it, it's a made-for-TV event not meant for football fans, but for the rest of america. Think about the Derby. Unless you go to Monmouth Park to drink tastes and smoke stogies, you don't give a shit about horse racing. But you watch the derby. At least that's only 2 minutes long and there's no breaking the plain crap.

3. The Stones should hang it up. Nuff said.

4. John Madden should hang it up. He really, really sucks. He brings nothing to the table. His schtick is older than Keith Richards.

5. Al Michaels is the most overrated play-by-play man ever. If I knew in 1980 what I know now, I would've rooted for Russia to roll over Team USA, so that cat could never do his "Do You Believe in Miracles" crap and make a career for himself. The dude is so pompous, so arrogant. He is everything that football shouldn't be about, but everything it is about now.

6. I'd rather have Mike Martz coach my team than Mike Holmgren. At least when Martz has troubles with clock management, it's not a shock and his players know what to do. Yestrerday, at the end of each half, Holmgren when into total vapor-lock mode and cost his team - at the very least - 6 points. Maybe Favre's not overrated afterall.

7. Did I mention the NFL sucks.

8. Did I mention I'm counting the days until the Rams sked comes out.

9. If I have to read one more story about the SB commercials, it's Hary Cary time (and I don't mean the former cub announcer).

10. Beer count still at 12.

FAVRE AND (HOPEFULLY) AWAY

2006-02-01T09:30:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know this post will anger a certain fan of fishingnotcatching, but I have to get this off my chest. It's been brewing for a few years, and I finally have a forum, and, believe it or not, it's timely.

Much has been made this week on ESPN about an interview with a certain overrated QB, who says he may be leaning toward retirement. His name, of course, if Brett Favre.

This is about the 4th straight offseason where this cat has hemmed and hawed about retiring or not. Well, I have two statements/questions regarding this annual soap opera.

1. WHO REALLY CARES
Besides people who have nothing better to do than put cheese on their head and clog their arteries with bratwurst and cheddar 24/7, nobody gives a crap about this dude - expect Jersey girl - of course.
I mean, honestly, what makes this guy so special? OK, he won ONE Super Bowl (so has Trent Dilfer and Brad Johnson). He lost a Super Bowl his team had no right losing (so did Kurt Warner). He played 30 seconds after his dad died. He was in a Farrely brothers movie (so was Roger Clemens, Cam Neely and Ron Darling).
Besides that, what has he done? OK, he's put up some good passing numbers, but in reality, he's won ONE big game in his career. Let's not forget all the dogs he's put up. Remember the 6 INTs against the Rams in a playoff game. SIX. Remember the home playoff loss - at night - to Ron Mexico and crew. Basically, his dopey, hick act makes him lovable to the dopes in middle america who voted for 'W'. And that's it. This year, when he didn't have a championship team around him, he sh-t the bed all season.

2. PLEASE GO AWAY.
Honestly, Brett. If you actually decide to retire the NFL will go on without you. I mean, John Elway and Joe Montana - guys who have won more than 1 big game in their lives - have left, and I believe the NFL is still in business. The Packers will be OK. I mean, if they can go 5-11 with you, they can go 5-11 without you. And don't worry, the dopes in Northern Wisconsin will still go to Lambeau on Sunday even if you're home in Mississippi spitting tobaci. Please, for all of us, Brett, just go away. And please, PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE, don't go into the broadcast booth. Dandy Don's act was funny 30 years ago. It won't work now.

S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y

2006-01-30T14:08:00.000-08:00

The one thing about having kids is going out with just the Mrs. on a weekend night becomes a once-every-two month sort of thing. You have to plan, line up sitters. The whole deal. It's easier to stay home.

Well, last Saturday me and Mrs. Pendleton did something we hadn't done in a year - clear your dirty minds - we went to the movies --- AND DINNER on the same night.

Actually, I believe it was the first time me and her saw a movie in a theatre in about 13 months. DVD players and kids do that.

Anyway, after this one night out, I realize I'm not missing a damn thing.

Ok, the movie - King Kong - was great. The key is we went to a 4:45 show (it's 3 hours) and then afterwards, wanted to get a bite to eat. This is when the total bullsh-t began.

I got a gift certificate for my birthday to Outback Steakhouse. We went there around 8:15, only to find out the wait was 1 hour and 15 minutes. Are you f-cking kidding me?

Then we shot down Route 1 and were gonna check out Houlihans in New Brunswick. When we pulled to the front of the place, the site of about 25 people sitting on benches and the floor in the lobby prompted us to visit downtown Hub City.

After paying $5 to park in the New Brunswick, we headed to a joint called Tumultys. It's a good place. Pub grub for the most part. Some overrated electric train on the ceiling. Well we were in there about 2 minutes (which, by the way, was 1 hour and 10 minutes less than the wait for a table). We actually were going to wait in the downstairs bar and up the beer count a bit, but halfway down the stairs, the cloud of smoke started forming. We told the cat at the desk we'd see him in 6 months when the Great NJ smoking ban goes into effect and walked out.

Taking a shot, we then walked to the Harvest Moon in N.B., only to be told the wait was 90 minutes. I mean, are they giving out blowjobs with every meal or something? So I said to the wife, fuck this trendy shit and we headed to this great Italian joint in Franklin Twp. called Cafe Primavera.

If you've never been there, get there. Food is excellent, prices pretty good and there's no trendy a-holes there. No B.S. Just good food. We didn't have to wait a second for a table, and about 15 minutes later our food was there. The best is, it's one of the those joints where you can bring in your own booze. However, since I wasn't planning on going there - I was however planning on raising the beer count - I was taste less, and therefore the count is stuck on 12.

Listen, I'm not totally against waiting for a table if it's a quality restaurant. But if anyone thinks I'm gonna wait an hour for a blooming onion or wait 90 minutes to have some dopey RU student - I know, that's redundant - screw up my order. Think again.

I know. I'm officially old. But if being young is dealing with that crap every saturday, I can't wait til I'm 50.

LET'S GO HOME, LET'S GO HOME

2006-01-27T14:18:00.000-08:00

Beer count: Stuck on 12.

OK, here now are the 10 worst sporting events I've attended. A few things to remember when reading this list. This will be judged on my personal experience. Therefore, while the game might've been good, my experience may have been terrible. Also, in some of these cases, I've excluded pre and post game schtick. You will see as you go on.

HERE GOES

1. May 19, 1998 - The Sandcastle, Atlantic City, NJ. Some day I'll tell my grandkids I was at the first ever Somerset Patriots Game. And then I will tell them what a hellish night it was. First of all, the event itself is a step above beer-league softball. The dudes that have no shot of sniffing single-A ball. Add to that a stadium swarming with green flies and clueless newspaper big-wigs and it's a recipe for hell. How bad were the flies? In the radio pregame show, the announcers were urging fans to bring Skin-So-Soft with them to fight the flies. Thankfully, me and my cronies only stayed one inning and the Irish Pub of A.C. was only a five-minute ride away. Unquestionably, the worst sporting event - if you can call it that - I ever attended.

2. July 30, 1989 - Wrigley Field, Chicago. My friend Rich always told me never, NEVER, plan a vacation around the Mets. They will ruin your trip everytime. This was my first lesson. Me, my brother and a friend of his drove all the way to Chitown to see the Mets and Cubs battle for the NL East crown. It was a Friday day game at Wrigley. Sunny, about 85 degrees. Perfect. Mets score 5 in the third - thanks to a Hojo 3-run bomb - to take a 5-2 lead. But Dave Cone and Dick Aguilera meltdown in the 7th as the Cubs score 4 times - the big blow a 2-run homer from some dude named Smith to take a 6-5 lead. With the Old Styles now flowing, the Mets try to battle back in the 9th. With one out and Mitch Williams on the hill, the dog of all dogs Juan Samuel gets a one-out pinch hit single, setting the stage for Hojo. Hojo lofts a little blooper behind short and it's obvious to everyone in the park that Shawon Dunston will catch it. Obvious to everyone execpt Samuel, who gets doubled off first to end the game. A horrible start to an awful weekend. I thought I learned a valuable lesson that day, but still, whenever I go on vacation, I plan it around a Met road trip. I;ll never learn.

3. October, 1992 - I think this is the year, but I can't be sure. Anyway, me, my wife (who was my fiance at the time) and a mutual female friend go to see Jets vs. Colts at Giants Stadium. The problem is, it's pouring rain. POURING rain. There must have been about 20,000 people at the stadium. We stayed for most of it - a 6-3 Colts' win and then head back to my parents house for some piazza. Honestly, this may have been my only realistic shot ever to pull off a threesome, but like the Jets offense, it never materialized. If it had, this would no doubt be No. 1 on the best all-time list. Anyway, an awful day.

4. Sept, 2004 - Rutgers Stadium. Ok, let me go on record as saying the pre and postgame hijinks were tremendous. I must've had about 15 Rheingolds and a few Amstel Lights while wandering between my tailgate and my friend steve's tailgate. But once inside RU stadium, the day took an awful turn. First of all, drinking tons of beer on an empty stomach and then walking into a packed stadium on a 95-degree, sunny day is not a good mix. What would've helped would've been a nice bottle of water. Of course, Rutgers was totally unprepared for any crowd over 20,000 and ran out of water before the first quarter ended. Needing some refreshment, I settled for a bottle of lemonade. Well, let me tell you - throwing cold lemonade into a stomach filled with nothing but Rheingold and some chips is a bad move. Let's just say after feeling like my stomach was going to explode - and me actually wishing it would - i spent most of the game testing Rutgers' plumbing system. Worst yet, after the game, I had to hear all the RU fans saying they were going to a bowl game because they beat Michigan State. Again, pre and post game was tremendous. But my experience at the game makes it a bad one.

5. October, 199ish - Jets vs. Chiefs at Giants Stadium. Nothing ruins a fun day at the stadium like seeing a dude get paralyzed. Yes, I was the Dennis Byrd game. No explanation needed.

6. July, 1984 - For the first time in my life the Mets are actually in the NL East race. They had beaten the Cubs on a Friday night at Shea to take a 1/2-game lead in the East, and then on Saturday, Doug Sisk blew a game, setting the stage for a Banner Day Double Dip at Shea. Of course, the Mets get swept and the season is pretty much over. Shitty day.
As you can tell, I'm running out of steam here.

7. March 30, 2004 - Knicks vs. Blazers at Garden. Let me preface this by saying I hate the NBA. Every player is an a-hole, the game itself is a fucking bore and did I mention every player in the league is an A-hole? Anyway, I had to be at work in the city real early the next day (like 5 a.m. early) so my company hooked me up with a hotel room across the street from the Garden and some Knicks tix. Let's say, I've never had a bigger non-drinking enduced headache at a sporting event like I had at this game. If it wasn't the loud music blaring during timeouts and during actual gameplay (another reason I hate the NBA), I had some dame screaming in my ear the entire tilt. I couldn't wait for the game to end, unfortunately I was at an NBA game, and they take forever to end. MISERABLE.

8. October, 2000 - The Big Shea. Once again, worked hooked me up with some Mets playoff tickets. It was Game 3 of the NLCS againt the Cards. In case you've forgotten, the Mets took the first two at Busch and were primed for a sweep. So me and my neighbor get into the city around 1:30 for a 4 p.m. first pitch and start eating and drinking - on his company's dime - at ESPN zone. We hop on the 7 train around 3 and roll into Shea just in time to see the Mets totally mail one in. I think the Cards got 4 runs in the first and after Mike (Padre) Piazza kills a first-inning rally with a tailor-made DP, the Cards get a few more. Me and my neighbor were back in Times Square - eating and drinking for free again - by the 7th inning. Of course, to rub it in, the Mets roll the next two games and reach the Series.

9. Sept. 1, 2000 - Texas A&M at Notre Dame - If there's on sports combo I can't stand it's football and heat. Honestly. I could watch a grid tilt in -20 temps and never complain. However, I can't stand watching football in any weather hotter than 80 degrees. I mean, I could watch a baseball tilt in 100-degree temps and have fun, but for some reason, to me, football and heat don't mix. So obviously a jam-packed Notre Dame Stadium and 100-degree heat was not a good mix. Add to that some yahoo sitting in front of us yapping about how great the Texas A&M band is and you get the picture. How hot was it? Me and the three guys I went with sat in the interior of the stadium for most of the third quarter. The only highlight was my friend Joe snapping a picture of Jerry Faust (whom, for some reason, is still loved in South Bend).

10. October 20, 2004 - Beaver Stadium. The final score, I believe was Iowa 6, Penn State 4. Yes, a total of 8 points scored. In addtion to brutally boring football, I didn't even get to sit with the guys I went to the game with. Now, this is a case where pre and postgame schtick has been excluded, because the before and after was tremendous. But, based on game only, this was a horror show.

So that's a glimpse into my miserable sports existence. For those of you included in this list, it's nothing personal.

2006-01-20T00:19:00.000-08:00

Beer count: Stuck on 12

Well, it's been a week since I was at the world's most overrated arena for Mark Messier night, and I have to say I'm still pumped up over it. It got me thinking about where it ranks among other sporting events I have attended. So, for my first list of 2006, here are my top 10 sporting events.

1. January 30, 2000 - Super Bowl XXIV Rams 23, Titans 16: What a thrill to see the Rams, the team that has killed me my entire life win the Super Bowl in person. Of course, they couldn't make it easy on me, killing me until the very last second, but it was well worth it. I do have to say, the city of Atlanta is a joke. How they ever got the Olympics there is beyond me, but it's a day I'll never forget.

2. April 2, 1985 - Mets opening day. Ah, the 80's, when public drunkeness at baseball games not only wasn't frowned upon, it was encouraged. A chilly day at Shea in which Harry M. Stevens made about $80 in beer money off me ends with Gary Carter, in his Met debut, homering in the bottom of the ninth to beat Neal Allen and the Cards. It was the first real sign a championship at Shea wasn't too far away. Another day I'll never forget.

3. April, 1997 - The last ever Hartford Whaler game. As a big supporter of the Whale, this was quite a sad day. However, I will always remember it since my wife and I won the "Whaler ticket upgrade" contest. It's pretty much where some schill for the team picks out two people in the nosebleeds and gives them two great seats. Well, I won it that day, and we even got on the video screen walking from the upper level to the lower lever. So, remember, if you ever get on Jeopardy or Who Wants to be a Millionaire, and the question is "Who was the last person ever to win a ticket upgrade at a Hartford Whalers game?" you will now know the answer.

4. Dec. 6, 1988 - It's rare that an NFL regular season game would make it this high, but this game is historic on several fronts. First, it was my initial Jet tilt with the Professor and Pops. Two, it was the game that set the stage for instant replay in the NFL. In case you have forgotten, it was the Jets-Seahawks tilt in which Vinny Testaverde, on a fourth and goal with teh game on the line, tried a QB sneak, but came up about 4 yards short. The refs, however, after discussing it for a few minutes, gave him a touchdown, helping the Jets to a division title and Dennis Erickson to the unemployment line. What's sad is, after having about 20 beers and sittting 3 rows from the top of Giants Stadium, I could see Testaverde didn't score. Anyway, the day ended with me - now 5 hours after the game - not being able to drive home and my wife coming to pick me up at a Dunkin Donuts in Old Bridge. In that Dunkin Donuts parking lot she told me she was preggers with our first kid. What a day.

5. Sept. 1995 - Cal Ripken ties Lou Gehrig's record. OK, I couldn't get tickets for the record breaker, but this was good enough. Me and my friend Steve got out picture taken with Johnny Unitas, and I got to see Joan Jett walk on the field after the game. It was a pretty hard core night.

6. August 11, 2005 - Round 1 of the PGA Championship at Baltusrol. It was hot, real hot. Not a great day to be drinking. But hey, who cares. Anyway, on the second tee, me and Steve were about 2 feet from Tiger Woods when he teed off. I never heard a ball make a sound like that. The highlight, however, came after he teed off on the third hole and we got to see Eldrick go into a port-o-john.

7. Nov. 2, 1997 - I think the year is right. Anyway, me, steve and two others attended the Chicago Bulls home opener. Ok, you say, no big deal. However, we had seats on the floor right behind one basket. At halftime, I talked movies with the late, great Gene Siskel. DUring the game we got Dennis ROdman to wave at us and we also got to see Jordan up close in his home field. Even better, we had been the Penn State at Northwestern that day, and had Redskins-Bears and Penguins-Blackhawks on tap for the next day. My only regret is I didn't get to call Ahmad Rashad Bobby Moore to his face.

8. March, 2004 - Ok. State vs. St. Joe's regional final at Meadowlands. Let me say this right off the bat, the Meadowlands Arena is an awful place as far as atmosphere is concerned. Sure, every seat is a good one, but the place is dead most of the time. Not this day. A great game from start to finish, ending with Jameer Nelson's 3 falling just short. Probably the best hoop game I've ever seen.

9. Sept 14, 2002 - Nebraska at Penn State football. A night game in Happy Valley is hard to beat, especially when you play golf at 9 a.m., get hit on by some chick working at the snack bar at the golf course, start drinking at noon, and then trip the light fantastic after the titl. Game was great, too. I've gone on record as saying that it's the loudest I've ever heard any stadium when PSU scored a defensive TD in the second half. Of course, I was 3 sheets to the wind by then, so maybe I was just hearing things. As it turned out, Nebraska was lousy that year and a win over them wasn't really a big deal, but for one night, it was a great game.

10. Aug. 20, 1993 - Mets at Phillies. You won't see this one on ESPN classic, but I remember it because it was the night of my bachelor party. Basically, 30-plus cats loaded into a bus filled with beer and cheese sandwiches in Woodbridge, NJ and headed to the Vet. Needless to say, mayhem ensued. All I remember about the game is it was Bobby Jones' big league debut and Tim Bogar hit an inside the park HR for the Metsies. Plus, one dude in our party got lost and after waiting in the Vet parking lot for him for about 3 hours, we left without him. Anyway, it was great time. Probably deserves to be higher than 10, but that's it.

Coming next week. The bottom 10. Stay tuned.

WHALE OF A WEEKEND

2006-01-18T10:46:00.000-08:00

Beer count: Stuck on 12.

Still no beer since Jan. 2. The scary thing is I don't miss it. Real scary. Although, if I have to watch another weekend of this bullshit product called the NFL, the vodka count will skyrocket.

Ok, the Colt-Steeler game was great, but why? Because NFL refs have their heads up their arses. Not only the Palumala INT being overturned, but the no-call on the offsides/illegal motion play on 4th-and-1 late in the game. ARE YOU KIDDDING ME?

And then, in the Bears-Cats game, they award the Bears Dude a TD when he cleary went out of bounds at the 3 and fumbled out of the end zone. I can't wait for the refs to screw up big time in a Super Bowl and finally people will realize what a flawed product the NFL and football in general is. I mean, I hate the Patriots, but that INT call against them Saturday night was completely bogus. It cost them 7 points.

As for football in general, most of the game depends on where 50-year-old men standing 20 yards away spot the ball where they think they saw the runner go with it.

However, as long as there is beer and gambling in this country, the NFL will continue to be huge.

One final thought: If the Steelers don't win Sunday, there will be absolutely no juice for the Super Bowl. Denver vs. Seattle? ZZZZZZZZZZ. Denver vs. Carolina? Snooze fest.

Lost in the all this NFL talk is the amazing play of the Hartford Whalers/Carolina Hurricanes. This team just refuses to lose. Ask the Flyers. Anyway, I'm already planning my trip to Carolina for the Stanley Cup Parade. By the way, nice job by the Islanders letting Pete Laviolette go.

Anyway, that's all for now.
I'll adress Mark Messier night, Howard Stern and Joe Pa's "She was hot, he should've raped her" comment in a day or two.

HITCH YOUR WAGON

2006-01-10T11:20:00.000-08:00

BEER COUNT: Stuck on 12.

Yes, I made it through an NFL playoff weekend without one beer. Hard to believe. If I were a Giant fan, the number would be about 40, but it's stuck on 12.

Some random thoughts.

1. The Giants suck. I'm sooooooooooooooooo happy they were exposed as frauds on Sunday. I'm even happier, Tiki was exposed as a bigger fraud. What a wonderful end to an overrated season.

2. I read that Dr. James Andrews had a heart attack. Does this mean pro athletes with elbow woes are sunk?

3. My condolences to the family of Ram great Jack Snow, who died Monday of a staph infection. What a friggin way to go.

4. One of the best TV shows - THE SHEILD - has its season premier tonight. If you have never seen it, check it out, it rocks. 10 p.m. FX.

5. 24 season premier just five days away

6. Mark Messier night just two days away

That's all for now.

WELCOME TO 2006

2006-01-03T12:41:00.000-08:00

Well, it's 2006 and although the year is only 3 days old, I wonder what's the over/under for wishing someone Happy New Year.

Honestly, if you see a friend for the first time on Jan. 10, do you say Happy New Year? Just wondering. Anyway, with a new year here, I'm gonna make a few predictions for 2006. Here goes.

1. I will lose weight. I say this every year, but I actually mean it this time. Me and my brothers are having a competition to see who can lose the most weight. There's cash involved. I'm actually motivated.

2. I will buy a bike. I haven't had one in about 20 years. I'm gonna buy one and actually ride. I wonder if the term "it's just like riding a bike" actually applies to riding a bike.

3. I will be mean to anyone who watches reality TV. And this includes my wife and kids. They watch it all, as for me, the only Surivor I'll support are the dudes who sang "High on You." I hate reality TV. Of course, if Fox starts looking for contestants for Blogging with the Stars, I may have to change my tune.

4. I will get sucked in by the Mets. I'm sure sometime around mid-July, they will be leading the NL East. I will start thinking about playoff baseball back at Shea and they will break my heart. I know it's coming, I just can't stop it.

5. I will really get sucked in by the Rangers. They will reach the Eastern Confernce Finals and will be up 3-2 on Ottawa, and then it will all fall apart. I'll never learn.

6. I'll drink plenty of beers. As a matter of fact, I plan on counting the exact number of beers I'll have this year. I will start every post with beer counter. As of 3:49 p.m. on Jan 3, the count is at 12. I had 7 on Sunday and 5 Monday. No plans for any more this week. Check back after Saturday for an update. So at this pace, I'll have 1,460 beers this year.

I'm gonna set the over/under at 620 (that's 12 a week). Considering I'm at 12 3 days in, the over looks pretty good. However, there will be - believe it or not - weeks where I go without drinking at all. Of course, there will be days where I can bang down about two week's worth. For those of you dumb enough to even think about taking the under, a tip, I don't drink anything but beer. Since I'm now 40, I've considered going the wine route or even rum or crap like that. But you know what, screw that stuff. It's beer, beer and only beer.

7. I'll lose count by mid-February. I got loaded Friday night and couldn't even guess how many beers. I had. Of course, I could lose interest, too.

8. I'll go to the movies this year. With the invention of kids, DVD players and $13 tickets, getting to the movies isn't a real priority. However, I'm sure I'll get there once or twice.

9. The only three non-sports related TV shows I'll watch all year will be 24, Medium and Without a Trace. Everything else sucks. These three kick total arse.

10. I will provide more interesting posts than this one. It's not a good way to start the year, but I promise I'll rebound.

Happy New Year (hope it's not too late).

THE 10 DAYS OF PENDLETON

2005-12-17T11:10:00.000-08:00

Well, it's been a while. But when you read the next post, you'll know why. At this time of year, everyone starts ranking Top 10 movies, records, people, events of the year. Well, here are my Top 10 days of 2005. You'll notice most of them involve heavy drinking, which is no coincidence.

So here goes, my top 10 days of 2005 (in chronological order)

1. January 2 -- I originally was gonna list Jan 1 - the day I had a neighborhood NYD party at my house, but the next day - when me, my dad and my brother went to a sports bar to watch some NFL action - tops it. Since I work Sundays, I rarerly get to watch entire football games, and I hardly ever watch them with my dad and brother. So it was nice to get out and do it. Plus the Rams beat the Jets that day to back into the playoffs. Not a bad start to the year.

2. March 19 - My friend Steve had a sizeable St. Patty's day party at his house, and I have to say, it's a great day. My kids get to run around unsupervised, my wife can chat with other dames and I can get loaded, play golf and watch the Big Dance in relative peace. Best thing about this party, is he provided plenty of high-class tastes (Harp, Guiness). It's a good day.

3. April 20. I can't remember the exact date, but it was around this time the Allen Oldies Band rolled into Hoboken, NJ. I'm sure you've never heard of this act, but it was the greatest live show I've even seen (including Springsteen). These dudes played for 5 hours with no breaks. They drank Rheingold, rubbed peanut butter in their hair and played great oldies all night.

4. July 9 - Not many men would list the date of child's birthday party as a top 10 day, but this one was. The dude across the street from me has a nice inground pool and it was his son's 5th birthday. Me, the Mrs. and the kids walked across the street around noon and I stumbled back across the street sometime around 1 a.m. In between was some fun with the kids, a pretty good magician, a huge storm that chased away all of the non-entities and plenty of 12 oz. cocktails. I did swear - since I was having my 5-year-old daughter bringing me beers out of the cooler - the next day I would quit drinking. The boycott actually lasted until ...

5. July 26 - If I had to rank them 1-10, this would be in the top 3. Every year, me, my neighbor and another friend drive up to North Jersey for an all-day wiffle ball tourney. Basically, my friend's cousin has built a wiffle field of dreams in his backyard. So it's hours of drinking, wiffle and good eating. It's a tremendous time.

6. August 16 -- Me and the family went to L.A. for a week to visit my brother, who writes for the Simpons. We visited him a work one day and got to see the cast do a table read - which is where the sit around a table and read the script for the first time. We also got to meet Joe Montegna, who was there doing a guest spot. I also saw the dude who played Howard Stern's father in Private Parts walking around the parking lot.

7. Sept 5 - Labor Day in South Plainfield NJ is a huge day. There's a parade, fireworks, the whole nine yards. Well anyway, it was kind of a repeat of July 9 without hte magician. It ended with me drinking beer and talking to a nun watching fireworks in the Church Parking lot.

8. Sept 17 - Any dad dreams of the day he will coach is son or daughter in youth sports. Well, Sept 17 was my coaching debut of my daughter's soccer team. We lost, but I didn't care.

9. Oct 1 - Took my daughter to her first Mets game. Enough said.

10. Nov. 5 - My friend who has the St. Patty's Day, also has season tickets to Penn State. Well, every year I usually go to one game with him and this year was no exception. The day involves a huge tailgate with plenty of great food (yet too many high-class tastes), a great game (PSU beat Wisconsin) and - surprise, surprise, plenty of drinking. The night usually wraps up in the Shandygaffe - a dive bar on the great campus of Penn State. The next day is always usually a tough one, but it's also a top 3 day.

PREDICTIONS FOR 2006
1. Jan 12 - I think I'm gonna get a ticket to Mark Messier night at the Garden.
2. March 4 - I think I'm gonna get a ticket to Carolina at Duke hoops. St. Pat's Day guy might be in, too.
3. Sept 9 - Penn State at Notre Dame.
4. Wiffle ball day
5. Valentine's Day (HEY NOW)

Ok, that's it. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year to you and yours.

BLOW IT UP REAL GOOD

2005-11-28T10:51:00.000-08:00

Perhaps the greatest thing about owning a home is - in my opinion - getting to decorate it during the holidays.

I mean, think about it, in this day in age, if you want to paint a rock in your front yard, you have to get a permit from your town, but when it comes to Christmas decorations, you can pretty much do whatever the hell you want.

That being said, too many liberties have been taken in this department, the biggest culprit is this new wave of inflatable decorations.

I have to say, a few years ago, they were cute. You had a Rudolph one, a Santa one, a Homer Simpson. That was fine. Now you have snow globes that acutally snow. I'm waiting to see the inflatable Baby Jesus on someone's lawn soon.

I myself, hate the inflatables for two reasons.
1. They look like sh-t when not inflated. Listen, I have enough ugly looking mounds of crap on my front yard without me having to pay $49.99 to put another one out there.
2. This new wave of inflatables have, for some reason, made the classic light up plastic decorations obsolete. I mean, go into any store these days and try to find a plastic snowman, or santa, or wooden soldier. They are nowhere to be found. What the f-ck is that? I mean, the white-trash looking icicles are bad enough. But no more plastic snowman. Unf-ckingreal.

So, if you are driving around central jersey, and see a house with no icicles, no inflatable crap and 4 - count em - 4 plastic snowmen on the yard. That's my hut.

The only inflatable I'll be investing is something to keep me company on a cold winter night. (HEY NOW). Or this one.

By the way, Jerseygirl. Check this one out.

FOOTING THE BILL

2005-11-26T12:53:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon is was having a few drinks with a neighbor - in preparation for my wife's 20th HS reunion - and I nearly killed myself falling down the stairs. While I survived the fall, my left foot took quite a beating.

I think I sprained it or something. It's possible I broke a little bone in there, but we'll see.

Anway, while raking leaves today in serious pain, it dawned on me how underrated the foot is.

Seriously. Think about it. Without the foot, or feet we'd have
- No football
- No shoes
- No running
- No walking
- No playing footsies
- No dancing
- No ice skating (hence, no hockey)

That's just the tip of the iceberg.

So next time - especially this time of the year where we're giving thanks for stuff - give thanks for two healthy feet.