THE BIGGEST BLOCKBUSTER OF THE SUMMER

That was the theme for this year's Summerslam PPV, the second biggest wrestling show of the year. I try to keep the wrestling talk to a minimum here, but bear with me for a second. Most children (including many of you reading this) give up watching wrestling in their teenage years. As for me, not only did I not stop (except for 2001, but that's really not important here), but it's one of my passions in life. Try not to freak out: 1) I have a book and a DVD collection. 2) I watch five hours of programming a week. 3) I have a subscription to WWE 24-7, so I can watch old stuff any time I want. 4) I already have tickets to Wrestlemania XXV in April. 

Since 1994, I've watched every Summerslam on PPV. And for the past three years, I've watched it with these fine folks pictured here at an undisclosed location. All I can tell you is that the owner of the joint goes by Mr. Carl. But as you can see, there are others like me. That tall man is Ryan, who I lived with for a month after Katrina in a Baton Rouge apartment that neither of us lived at previously. He might be the nicest guy I've ever met. Though now that I think about it, his favorite wrestler was Chris Benoit. Sooooo. Yah.

The first match is nearing its thrilling conclusion when Mr. Carl (he wouldn't allow me to take pictures of him AND leave with all ten fingers) walks in the living room to announce that the food is ready. All right, I think to myself. I'm starved. A little grub. Some snacks. Summerslam. It's all clicking. I walk into the kitchen after the match, and what do I see is for dinner? Yup, hot dogs. Tina just served these at the Gene Pool party Friday. Then I ate a hot dog for lunch Saturday and Sunday. I have got to start getting these parties on the same page.

That adorable beauty (and I'm talking about the dog) is Brandy. I see this dog once a year, but I think she really likes me. She was climbing all over me for a while. (Yah, yah. That makes one female. Very funny.) Then she got comfortable and just stared at me with those puppy-dog eyes for three matches. I couldn't tell if she was getting sleepy in this picture or if she was as concerned as me that CM Punk might lose his title. She did lick my face after he won. Toward the end of the show, Brandy decided to spread the love. She cuddled with Paul during the first part of the double main event. Unfortunately for Paul, Brandy stepped on the family jewels when she dismounted. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

I'm looking outside, and my mom asks if it is raining hard. I say yes. "I just turned the fucking pump on." Upon looking out the window herself thirty minutes later, she says: "Son of a bitch."

Mom spots one of those twist tie thingies wrapped around the handle of a drawer. "There it is. I've been looking for this motherfucker all fucking morning."

Mom tells me about a story in the paper where a girl shot her ex-boyfriend when he broke into her house Sunday. She's glad she shot him and didn't get arrested because it was self-defense. "So he breaks in, and she puts two bullets in the motherfucker. Best part is he told her he was coming. Stupid ass."

DID YOU KNOW?

It is now time for everyone's favorite Monday feature. Note: This might only apply if you've been watching the U.S. men's basketball team.

Did you know that Doug Collins played in the 1972 Munich Olympics? I was pretty sure he did before watching these Olympics, but as the color commentator of the U.S. games, Collins isn't shy about reminding us that he played in the '72 games and of his experiences then. He remembers the feeling of putting on the U.S. uniform, walking into the building and the nerves he felt before the games. One game he didn't mention the 1972 Olympics, and Lopes became fake confused. "Does this mean he didn't play in the 1972 Olympics?" But then Collins reminded us again in the first quarter of the next game, and all was right with the world.

I'm hoping his partner Mike Breen leans over during one of Collins' stories and says: "Um, Doug. What year did you play in the Olympics again?" Or a few seconds after Collins finishes a story: "Hey there, Doug. I've been told you once played in the Olympics. Was that in basketball?"

Now, I haven't watched every second of every U.S. game, and therefore I must wonder if this conversation has taken place:

Breen: The U.S. is winning big again. They look like the team to beat.

Collins: Back in '72, we were the team to beat.

Breen: They are being called the Redeem Team (I love this name, by the way).

Collins: We had a poor first half against Russia in '72. But we came out strong in the second half, especially late, and redeemed ourselves.

Breen: But the medal round is single elimination. One slip up, and it is over. No second chances.

Collins: That's not how it worked in '72. They let the Russians have three chances.

Breen: The Americans say they aren't worried. They know they have a lot of clutch players on this team.

Collins: I was a clutch player in '72. Did you see me make those late free throws? And I was hurt.

When the Americans get to the gold-medal game, Collins will spend half the time talking about the 2008 game and half the time telling us about those go-ahead free throws he made with three seconds remaining in the '72 gold-medal game, only to see the Russians get three chances to make the winning basket. Then, that Monday, I'll be writing in this segment: Did you know that Doug Collins and his fellow '72 U.S. basketball teammates never accepted their silver medals?

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH, AND IT'S TIME FOR A CHANGE

The five-cent Skittles returned to the vending machine at work Saturday. Thankfully, our vending machine friend has yet to notice the profit loss. Hopefully, he doesn't for a long time. I didn't feel much like tasting the rainbow of fruit flavor Saturday night, but I was back in Skittles mode Monday night.

I must admit, though, this Skittles fad is starting to grow old. I think I would turn them down quicker than I would crack if someone offered them to me outside the T-P building. Every so often, the vendor switches out the candy in the machine. I'm really looking forward to going downstairs one day and finding a different item marked with the F4 label. I'm cheering for plain M&Ms. Or Nestle Crunch. Or Hershey's with Almonds. Not that I won't keep eating Skittles every day I work at that reasonable five-cent price.

PARTING SHOTS

The T-P has written a lot about Jason David sucking in the past few days. We only took two photos of him in Saturday's preseason game.

Bake: Next time, we need to tell them to shoot more of him.

Phil: Yah. They ought to shoot him.

Bake tells me he's really started to notice the money he's saving by carpooling with Phil. He then tells me that if a hurricane comes, they need to take Phil's vehicle because it can handle the conditions better.

"Plus, if his car floods, it's no big loss."

THE DAILY TOP LIST

My five favorite books, not counting wrestling books, of course. I still need a guest top lister for this week. Anyone? Anyone? Broderick?

5) Lords of Discipline. Pat Conroy. 1980.

Summer reading was never so enjoyable.

4) A Wrinkle in Time. Madeleine L'Engle. 1959.

My favorite book as a kid.

3) Eye of the Needle. Ken Follett. 1978.

Check out Chapter 23 if you ever get a chance. Trust me.

2) Shoeless Joe. W.P. Kinsella. 1982.

In some ways, the book is better than the movie.

1) The Chocolate War. Robert Cormier. 1974.

I never refused to sell the chocolates like Renault. It got you an extra day of Easter vacation.