I've been watching a lot of Battlestar Galactica lately and a big issue on the show - now that the cylons have the capability of possessing materially human bodies (with the only apparent difference being they possess spinal cords that pulsate red when they "bone down") - is what really separates humans from cylons. Although cylons have incredibly poor taste in clothing (the males dress like used car salesmen and the women like futuristic slatterns) even some humans exhibit the same poor taste in attire. What separates us from the cylons, my friends, is that our species possesses the genius to produce the pizza vending machine. This Wonder Pizza vending machine was produced in Torino Italy which means that it must be, like, totally authentic. Ninety seconds and five dollars later you can get your hands on a piping hot pizza - with your choice of crust crispness and three different toppings. Now if we could only create a hotdog vending machine that pops out a Nathan's kosher all-beef on a toasted bun with mustard, relish, and gently warmed sauerkraut, then we would be masters of the universe.
I just received word last night from one of my oldest friends (old as in, we've been friends for 12 years, not as in she's ancient, although she will ALWAYS be 9 months older than me!) that not only was she accepted into UCLA's Geography Phd program, but that she received an awesome four-year fellowship to conduct research with the Jordana Basin Long Term Ecological Research program. She will get to spend a portion of the next four years in the northern Chihuahuan Desert where the program examines "desertification dynamics" - or how deserts actively happen and exist. The group looks at how space, time, history, "transport vectors" and "environmental drivers" interact with structures of vegetation to determine "ecosystem dynamics." I'm so happy for her and definitely a little jealous (having read a sufficient amount of Mike Davis and had one too many daydreams about different educational directions I could have followed) - I suppose I'll have to be satisfied with getting to visit her in the New Mexico desert, where we will eat a bunch of peyote buttons and go on a transcendent spirit quest like the ones all of my favorite characters from Lost get to go on all the time.
Hi, you may not recognize me because I haven't done anything worthwhile in the ten seasons I have been playing professional basketball for the NBA. My name is Scot Pollard and I'm this year's Center for the NBA Player Haters Game. The only thing I actually get press coverage for is my changing hair (see the wikipedia bio on me for the special section on my "hairstyles") because for some reason, being a little bitch ( I learned it from Chris Webber when we played together!) by feigning back spasms in the middle of games and averaging 0.9 PPG this year with the Cavs doesn't seem to nab the headlines. My awesome 'dos sure do! Get it: 'dos do. Kind of like doo doo. You know, as in my playing style is doo doo. I was Vlade Divac's backup center and comfort boy when I played for the Sacto Kings a few years back. That was an honor man - because I can think of only maybe twenty-nine better starting centers that I could have backed up than Divac. As center for the team this year, I get to introduce the rest of the team. Don't let his sweet, sweet Valentine's Day wishes fool you: this year's power forward, Zach Randolph has done so much to deserve to be hated. Sure, he has been averaging 24 PPG this year with Portland, but that's mostly because he doesn't know how to pass the ball. Passing other things (like joints and obscene gestures), on the other hand, he is much more adept at. Most people hate Randolph for garnering a 5 year, $73.3 million dollar contract with the Blazers since he is such a one-dimensional player. But at least he's a charmer off the court right? Oh yeah, just ask the witnesses alleging that Randolph tried to intimidate them when they were going to testify against Blazer Qyntel Woods for fighting pitbulls. Nice.
Hey look everyone, here comes Wally tumbling down the court like the dickweed that he is! That's right, this year's small forward is none other than Wally Szcerbiak. You can begin to understand the inflated ego and hubris that is Wally if you check out his ridiculous website. Upon reading it your first thought might be: wow, this guy has a great sense of humor! And then you realize: oh wait, he's serious and living quite possibly one of the most humorless and hateful existences you have ever encountered. My favorite page is the quotes page where Wally insists repeatedly that he derives great pleasure from eating egg whites, working out, looking fit, and having a wife who also works out and looks fit. But it's truly in the "quotes about Wally" section where this all-hater shines. One of Wally's managers observed after Wally invited scouts and coaches to a private workout: "He put on a flawless display. His workout would have just about killed any of the other top draft prospects, and the people watching him knew it. When he tossed aside his shirt, I literally heard gasps." Wow. If anyone is going to win the "Most Likely to Be Patrick Bateman" award this year, my bets are on Wally. Oh look at that Gilbert Arenas - he's so crazy! No really, I mean it: HE'S CRAZY. He is actually serving double duty this year, as he got voted into the All Star East Team this year with 1,454,166 actual votes (unlike the 2004 All Star game when he tried to vote himself into it, trading a pair of shoes and a jersey for a box of ballots). His wikipedia bio gives you the scoop on all of the hilarious hijinx he likes to play both on and off the court when he's not too busy hogging the ball - they call it "Gilbertology" (otherwise known as the study of a pro basketball player who is batshit crazy). My favorite anecdotes are from his early days with the Warriors when he took a shower at halftime in full uniform or when he put baby powder on donuts he delivered to the team. Oh that Gilbert! His favorite things to do while on the road is to eat 12 cheeseburgers in one day or hole himself up in his hotel room and order items off the internet, including a colon cleanser (hey G - you think the two might be related?). You can't make this shit up! Rounding out the Haters squad as point guard is Jason Kidd, raising a fist (once again) in this inspiring photo montage. Apparently his hand naturally rests in that position and often on other people - just ask his wife Joumana. Oh that couple! This January Jason filed for divorce citing "extreme cruelty" during the relationship. In her countersuit, Joumana filed for the same reasons and recounted countless moments of abuse, including the time Jason threw a cookie into her face, "frisbee-style." Watch out for that ultimate chocolate chip! (groan) You better update your muy suave website Jason - because as of today, it still claims you're a "doting husband" to your wife Joumana. Although he may be a technically solid player, Kidd brings his nasty energy on and off the court. H-A-T-E-D...
And now is the time to announce the only man capable of coaching such a squad of egotastic, sociopaths... none other than: Cuts Thomas. Only a hater of his magnitude can coach such a hated squad. He has been hating as far back as 1985 when he got jealous of relative newcomer, Michael Jordan, for stealing attention from him at the All Stars game. Knowing his penchant for poor trades with the Knicks (cough cough Jerome James, Stephen Marbury, et al), he probably would pay top dollar for someone who plays as poorly as I do. Given this year to turn around the Knicks after Larry Brown was fired, what does Cuts do? Allegedly instigate the Knicks-Nugs brawl by ordering Mardy Collins to commit a hard foul when it was clear the Knicks were going to lose (can't you just picture him as the evil Sensei in the Karate Kid: "Sweep the Leg Mardy"). For more insightful analysis on Cuts, check out C's blog. Hehehehe, we even picked the same photo of Cuts in his trademark douchneck sweater!
Well it's time for me to get my hair done for the game!
Although late last night I shrieked into a four-degree Chicago night, "Congress Theatre, by the power of Graceskull,I will get thee! I will expose thee in the mighty blogosphere," I am still too angry at that shithole to write about it. Instead, I want to acknowledge that I have been grossly negligent in my NBA Player Hater coverage. The main reason? I no longer have cable tv and so far, a basketball league has not formed in Animal Crossing: Wild World (the alternate reality in which my heart truly belongs) for me to cover.
Inspired the other night by one of the funniest and adept-at-cleverly-hating people I know (besides myself of course), I have decided to make up for my negligence by presenting to all of you in my mighty blogosphere, an All-Haters lineup. Between now and Saturday, February 17 (the date of the actual NBA All Stars Game), I'm taking nominations for players to belong on the most-hated NBA lineup of 2007. On that day I will reveal to you the most reviled combination of point guard, shooting guard, small forward, power forward, and center that I can come up with, complete with fugly pictures and criticism completely unrelated to actual basketball playing skills. Let the nominations begin... I have a fugly assistant waiting patiently by his computer to compile your nominations. You can also find him on AIM under the name "hedosloth69."
I was invited to a Groundhog's Day Party this weekend where attendees were required to make some sort of "groundhog art" that honors the plucky little creature that mis-predicts the weather for us each February 2nd. I teamed up with two of my friends from my program to create the following educational video, "Where Do Groundhogs Come From?"
