Friday Photo #37

Oh yeah, like you're surprised. Two of my current favorite things together on the screen...Curling and a person named after a male body part. You just knew I'd have to share it.

My inner 12 year old boy is chuckling.

(Note: I was rummaging through my old posts and realized I never posted this gem from the Olympics. Good Lord! How could I have missed this? It still made me chuckle, so here it is.)

Dude, What's That Shitz On Your Head?

or Son, you gotta hamster on yo' bean

Okay, so it's Oscar Night and we were catching up on old programs inhabiting our DVR to make room to record, you know, nineteen hours of the bullshit filled king-of-all-network-time-killers, The Academy Awards, when we stumbled across the episode where Edward Cullen, that uber teen-age (and 30-somethings) heartthrob himself, Robert Pattinson pays a visit to Jon Stewart's The Daily Show.

Once the throngs of screeching females settled down, he started talking about a variety of things including the fact his face is virtually EVERYWHERE, and how he has a fear of overexposure. To which Geo responded:

"more like a fear of combs."

HAHAHAHAHA!! His wit slays me.

Oh-oh. Gotta run. The Oscars are starting, and you know I love me some Alec Baldwin.

Who's Afraid Of An Inch Or Six Of Snow?

or screw you February. I'm going to see Sondre Lerche

Okay, so last Friday the snow fall was supposed to stop by 1pm. It did...for about two hours, then it came back with a wicked vengeance. That omnipresent white shit fell so steadily and heavily that it felt like you were standing in the middle of a freaking snow globe. Seriously.

It was very slow going on roads that were coated with at least four inches of the blasted flaky stuff. So naturally I ventured out to meet friends, Sheila and Tim, and head to our favorite little night spot of which I've spoken ad naseum, Club Cafe.

Why would I venture out in such an inhospitable evening?

See here's the thing... I have been wanting to see Norwegian songwriter, Sondre Lerche ever since I heard him interviewed by WYEP's Rosemary Welsh.

That was six years ago.

Six years. I've waited six whole years to watch him perform, and I can tell you no snow storm was going to stop me from seeing him. Six years...Six inches of snow. Pffft! No contest.

So off we crawled through February's latest punch in the gut, mired in a line of traffic that went on for miles. It felt like we'd never get there. There was actually a split second when I questioned the wisdom of traveling in such conditions, but once this diminutive figure took the stage all doubts were washed away.

He was brilliant! High energy, strong, clear voice, and he absolutely shredded that electric gee-tar. There was a lot of power pouring out of that little frame. I honestly didn't expect such a passionate performance from him.

He charmed the audience with his banter between a set of old and new tunes. At one point he paused, contemplating what he should play next. That's when I shouted for an older favorite of mine-"On the Tower"-which he graciously agreed to sing even though he hasn't sung that particular tune for years. Here he is butchering the lyrics:

Look how cute he is about it. I don't know why, but I love when performers kinda tank the lyrics to their songs. It allows them to let down their guard and be a little vulnerable, more human. If forces them to trust their audience to not dick them. I have never been to a show where the crowd wasn't 100% behind the singer when he was less than perfect. In fact I think they get more support for putting it out there.

For the third time at this club, the artist exposed the sham of the encore. Once again, Sondre, much like Bell X1 and Mike Doughty before him, decided to dispense with the drama of walking off stage and waiting for us to beg for his return, in favor of just telling us the next songs are his official encore.

His honesty was rewarded with one of the all-time best audience sing-alongs to the delightful "Modern Nature". The girls in the crowd inspired him to switch from electric to acoustic and go completely unplugged.

Isn't that great? What a lovely way to end the evening. Our hearts remained buoyant as we made our way through the never ending falling snow. It was well worth the journey.

AND get this...Sondre Lerche's going to be playing a gig or two at SXSW this year, so I get to witness his talents again! Umm...that is if I can navigate through that craziness and find the party.

Did I mention I'm going to the megalomaniacal uber monster music fest SXSW? Well, I am. Yes. Wilma Flintstone is jumping into the shallow waters head first. My noggin is already spinning off its axis.

Pray for me.

Anywho, here are a couple more songs from that grand evening.

Two Way Monologue

No One's Gonna Come

Carrying This Torch For You (?)

Oh, and uh...sorry about the ambush there, Sondre. Sheila made me do it.

Another Great Finish For The Olympic Books

or more love for Sid the Kid and his luscious gold-medal winning lips

Okay, so the Olympic Gold Medal game came down to the USA vs. Canada. As a Pittsburgher, I was conflicted because A) First and foremost, Hello? I'm an American and B) I'm an American who is blessed to have the best player in hockey-a Canadian-play for her beloved Pens. The way I figured it, no matter who won it was a win-win for us Burghers.

But Holy CRAP!! What a game, huh?!

Once again the intensity of play was off the charts... crushing checks, top notch defense and a heated skirmish or two. The good ole US of A was down by one in the final minutes of the third period. Our goalie, the brilliant Ryan Miller, was pulled for the extra man advantage, but the boys had to scramble to keep the puck in Canada's zone. Once again, in the final thirty seconds, Zach Parise, like a Jedi Knight channeling the force, somehow connected with a rebounded puck to sink it deep into the net to tie the game and send it into overtime.

I yelled so loudly I swear I bruised my ovaries.

The youngsters from America were not going down without a fight. To be honest, I was okay with either team sporting the gold, but at that point I was routing for the boys in blue to take the brass ring.

And then Sid, who was quiet for most of the game, touched the puck... and magic happened.

In the biscuit sailed...out flew Sid's mouthpiece along with his stick and gloves. And the jubilation began with a team mash-up blur of red and white.

I don't know why, but I love the image of Sid's mouth guard flinging out of his mouth at break-neck speed, landing 12 feet away. Perhaps it's the pure, unguarded joy of his reaction.

I screamed then, too. And then I teared up, because, you know, I'm a ginormous sap when it comes to stuff like this. Our little Sid officially became the hero of his country.

Good Lord... I'm tearing up now. What an asshat.

Anywho, would I have preferred my country to win. Sure. But, hey, if we had to lose, at least it was at the hands of our own... this honorable young man who embodies the idea of hard work, dedication and youthful exhuberance. How could you not be happy for him? What an amazing ten months he's had. He led his team from the brink of elimination to snatch the Stanley Cup from the prior year's nemesis, and now he scored the winning goal in overtime--on home turf--to bring his country gold.

What the hell do you do for an encore? Win another Stanley Cup, of course. Duh?

So how do you top witnessing perhaps the best gold medal round hockey match since 1980? With a closing ceremony filled with singing Mounties, gigantic inflatable beavers (what the? insert your own joke here...) and an appearance by the ultimate Canadian, The Shat Man himself... William Shatner!!!

He is the best of all possible Shatners. No celebration of Canada would be complete without Captain Kirk extolling the virtues of being a Canadian in his own unique, stilted delivery. I've been waiting for him for two weeks! Where the HELL have you been, Bill?

At the end of the day, the US did better than in any prior winter Olympics winning 37 shiny medals. We even managed to snag the first gold medal in 62 years in the four-man bobsled.

I'm going to miss it.

So a big ole, wet, sloppy kiss of thanks to you, Canada! It's been a fun two weeks, what with the Curling mania and hockey hysteria and the world just generally coming together to enjoy itself without the bullshit yoke of politics to strangle our collective human spirit.

It was a welcomed respite indeed.

Friday Photo #38

Alas, Mr. Snowstorm. We Meet Yet Again...

Okay, so believe it or not, it hasn't snow here for about four days.

*Gasp!*

I know, right? But wait, there's more. Fueled by a mysterious large, glowing orb I believe you call the Sun, the temps were high enough to start the big melt. So much so, we could see actual grass here and there.

No shit. Grass. Seriously.

Not to mention I actually wore footwear other than my spectacular bright orange, quilted Lands End snow shoes.

Hurrah!! It seemed things were starting to look up. I could see a faint light at the end of Winter's dark, dank, miserable tunnel.

Aaaaah, but February, that fat f*ck, had other sadistic ideas and decided to dump yet another substantial storm on our collective heads this morning. So I have once again donned my bright orange PennDot galoshes, pulled my hood tightly over my pea-sized head and armed myself with our super-scooper shovel to push to the curb the latest load of the Lord's beauty.

And now my fingers are numb and burning from spreading salt like I was tossing beads to tanked-up, topless Tarts at Mardi Gras.

Whoa Whoa Whoa. Not so fast. Hold on there, Skippy. It's STILL snowing...steadily. So I'll get to do the shoveling and the salting and the grousing all over, again and again and again. The only good thing is this time around, I'm off today so I don't have to go to work and deal with all that madness.

February has officially become the snowiest month on record. Oh Bravo! Well done! You can stop with the overachieving now you silly be-yatch. But, nooooo. This menacing month will just not go quietly. Much like that crazy-ass Glenn Close character, Alex in Basic Instinct she refuses to be ignored. I just hope it doesn't leave any "surprises" like boiling bunnies for us to find.

Hey, wait a minute. I don't remember leaving that big pot on the stove...

I've Got Olympic Fever On Ice, BABY!!

or how I gave up my figure skating obsession for men tossing rocks

Okay, so in the past I've been a huge figure skating junky. I mean HUGE. I would live for the singles men's and women's skating competition. I actually used to get bummed out if I missed any of the Olympic coverage.

Not this year.

I'm still about men and women on ice, but this year it is all about the Curling and the Hockey. But mainly the Curling.

Seriously.

Dude, it is AWESOME!!

Yeah, watching guys and gals tossing stones down an icy pitch, sweeping them to their final resting spot sounds dorky and stupid and more like something you'd casually do with friends at your side and a beer in your hand on a Saturday night, but it is a full-on Olympic gold medal sport.

And I gotta tell ya...it is EXCITING! No shit!

For those unfamiliar, Curling is a lot like Bocce on ice. Each team throws eight stones per End and there are 10 Ends per game. The skip releases the rock and two teammates guide the stone, curling it into position around the opposing teams rocks by brushing vigorously with a broom. The team closest to the center target or button wins the point(s). Just like in Bocce.

The thing is this game is a thinking man's sport. There's a lot of strategy involved. Much like Chess, each team must think one or two plays ahead. As with Bocce, you could have three stones in scoring position, and then just like that... one well-placed toss can knock all of your men out of contention. If both teams are tied after 10 ends, the game goes into sudden death overtime. I have to tell you, I have seen some real stand-up and shout-out-loud, nail-biting battles in overtime.

Okay. You can quit laughing now.

Sadly the USA men are in a downward spiral and won't make the playoffs, but the women are hanging on. Honestly, it doesn't really matter to me if the USA is in the running or not. The Brits and Canadians are kicking some major ass in these games and are enormous fun to watch. The Brits (a team of handsome Scotsman with their irresistible accents) are running a clinic on the perfect way to curl.

And then there are the Norwegians and their pants:

They've caused quite the stir. Their pants have a Facebook page...with over 250,000 friends.

Yes. You heard me correctly. Their pants have a Facebook page. Team Norway is also heading to the playoffs to add a little color to the proceedings.

My love of all-things-curling has gotten me a lot of ribbing by my friends and coworkers, but there is a growing group of work buds who are becoming Curling enthusiasts. We're seriously considering starting our own group, The KD Kurlers. Of course we'll have to get us some of them fancy pants to wear with our curling hats.

Queen of the Dorks

Even our nephews have caught the fever. They've dug out their own pitch in the snow on their front lawn. And they invited me to join in.

Boys after my own heart.

And then there was the USA vs. Canada hockey match last night.

Holy Crap!! What a game!

From the get-go this game was played with the speed and intensity of Game 7 in the Stanley Cup finals. Both teams were flying from end to end, checking hard and firing blistering slap shots on goal. It was incredible!

The US lead 2-1 going into the 2nd period, but Canada tied it up before Chris Drury rapped a loose puck around Canada's goalie, Marty Brodeur to put the US up 3-2 late in the period. (FYI, beating Brodeur is a special treat for any Pens fan) America scored again seven minutes into the third for a 4-2 lead.

Then Sid, the Kid closed the gap to one point with three minutes to go. Canada pulled their goalie and with roughly 50 seconds on the clock, America's Ryan Kesler, wrapped in a tussle with a Canadian, managed to dive around the outside of his opponent, somehow connect with the puck and shoot it into the empty net. Brilliant! Best empty net... EVAH!

A link to the NBC footage of the empty net goal is here. Hopefully you can watch it because it is soooo worth viewing. The US is now guaranteed a playoff berth thanks in large part to our goalie's performance of a lifetime. Ryan Miller stopped 42 of the 45 shots on goal. Absolutely phenomenal! It is going to be one HELL of a playoff series.

Check it out. Our goalie...R. Miller. Gee, who does that name remind me of? Hmmmm...

Of course!

Oh, come on. Like you didn't know that was coming. It's been a while since I posted his beauteous visage here. Besides, he already looks crazy-hot all sweaty. You know he'd just rule that uniform.

Friday Video #... Oh Who Really Gives A Shit What Number It Is

or Attention all humans with a 12 year old sense of humor: this video is dedicated to you

Okay, so I was wasting time on Facebook...er, I mean doing research online this morning when I came across this gem of a news story posted by my #1 entertainment guru, Jimmy McParkway.

Holy Crap! This has got to be one of the funniest things my Earthling eyes have seen in a while. It is an actual, legitimate news package from a station in Tempe, Arizona. My inner 12 year old boy is having a grand time with this one.

I'm not going to say anymore about it so as not to ruin your fun. All I will say is read all the on-screen comments. The comments are what makes it... and you might not want to drink anything whilst you're watching it.

Enjoy!

Oh no they d'dn't just give the address, did they! They sure did. It's like they're promoting a Penis Pilgrimage. Pack up the kiddos Mom and Dad! It's time to pay homage to the Wondrous Wooden Wang. Yea!!!

Tempe... I want to go to there.

And now I'm off to view the more family friendly fare of Curling... and watch grown men get there rocks off.