LIFE'S A PEACH

The reason I haven't updated the pool in so long is my life has been so unbelievably boring that I couldn't muster the energy to write about nothing. (I would never have made it on the writing staff of Seinfeld. Get it?) That all changes this week with the return of TV season (I'm on overload Monday with seven hours of taped shows and the Dolphins on MNF) and the Journey concert Saturday.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom read a story a week or two ago about a cop stealing somebody's watch. "Fucking cops think they own the fucking world with their fucking badge and gun. Fucking thought he was entitled to the watch."

Mom walks into my room. "You treat this room like a fucking junkyard."

Mom got frustrated last week. "I need to hit the fucking jackpot."

Mom has said "Motherfuck me" about 12 times since the last posting.

Mom got mad at me. "You're fucking useless. Useless!"

The across-the-street neighbor has an 8-year-old son. He cheated on his wife. They divorced. He married the mistress, who is my age. They now have a 5-month-old. She conceived during the affair. The new wife moved in last week. Mom's take: "What, she thinks he's gonna stop fucking around now? Like, she's so special. I got news for her: He ain't gonna stop fucking around. He might be smarter and wear a fucking rubber. But he ain't gonna stop fucking around."

CASH FOR WHAT NOW?

Last week at work, I joked that they were going to start a new program for parents called Cash for Flunkers, where you trade in your child who is failing for one who makes As. It was met with a hint of laughter. I thought it was brilliant.

Anyway, on Wednesday, I'm flipping through the channels and stop on the new Jay Leno Show for a minute, which I believe is a horrible idea five times a week (once a week on Thursday would have been a good move).

Anyway, he filmed a segment called Cash for Flunkers. And sure enough, a mom brings a failing student into a building, the door closes, then reopens as the mom emerges with a braniac looking child. The crowd erupts in laughter. I throw my remote at the TV.

MOVIE REVIEW

The International. Good thriller. Strange ending. I really like Clive Owen.

Deja Vu. First half is awesome. Second half, not so much. Denzel is good.

Duplicity. Did I mention that I really like Clive Owen?

DID YOU KNOW?

Did you know that Kanye West really likes Beyonce's Single Ladies video? Did you know he interrupted the very serious MTV video awards? Did you know that Obama called Kanye a jackass? Did you know that Joe Wilson talks like a fourth grader? (You lie!)

Did you know that Serena Williams had one of the greatest outbursts in sports history? (I've been quoting her all week. It's a shame she didn't get more pub for her tirade than Kanye got. A real shame.)

Did you know that all three of these stories are the only things that happened in the entire world last week? (Yup. Nothing else.)

PARTING SHOT
I run across the street to hand the mailman a Netflix disc. I have on my 2007 LSU football championship T-shirt.

Me: Hey, can you throw this in there?
Mailman: Sure, man. You wearing that championship shirt, huh?
Me: Yeah.
Mailman: Say, they playing Saturday or Sunday?
Me: Uh, Saturday.

(D, can I get a whistle?)

PREDICTING THE RECORD

I'm trying to gauge the Saints record for the 2009 season.
First, some other expert prediction:

ESPN: 8-8
Sports Illustrated: 7-9
CBS: Picked 'em to win the division

Here's the way I'm looking at it.

Games they should win: Both Bucs, Bills, Rams, Lions (5-0)
Games they'll probably lose: Giants, Patriots (5-2)
Games against other good teams in division: Split (7-4)

So that leaves five games to determine the season. They need to go 3-2 in the following games to finish 10-6 and hopefully make the playoffs: Redskins, Cowboys, Eagles, Jets, Dolphins.

I say yes. What say you?

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom is pissed about the new dental plan on her health insurance. "I'm so fucking aggravated. Paid for less than half of my last fucking visit."

PARTING SHOT
I'm reading Kim Kardashian's twitter. (Shut up!)

Me: Look everyone. Kim lost her blackberry.
Liam: Eh, I think she lost that a long time ago.

THE SAINTS ARE COMING ... WELL, NOT THURSDAY

For the second consecutive season, my dad and I went to the finale of the Saints preseason. For the second consecutive season, the Saints were playing the Dolphins. For the second consecutive season, we left at halftime after parking for free and using Brick's tickets. 

Not for the second consecutive year, thankfully, there was no monster hurricane in the Gulf during the game. 

The highlight of the first half had nothing to do with the game. During a timeout, they showed a Saintsation on the sideline, who thought she was promoting something. Instead, her boyfriend came out of nowhere and proposed. 

After she accepted, the dude sitting in front of us turns around and announces to his friends and the rest of us. "I know that dude. He's a pussy." Someone asks how he knows this. "He's a cop. I knocked his ass out once after we were drinking in a bar. He's a pussy." 

One minute later, he turns back around and says: "Man, I can't believe it. I know that dude. He's a homo." 

Guy behind me: "But he's engaged." 

Response: "So he's a closet homo." 

I went to the game wearing my Dolphins shirt and Saints cap. The evening was filled with a lot of weird looks and one guy who yelled, "You can't do that. Get out of here." 

The people in my section certainly didn't appreciate my shirt, especially when I cheered for the 

Saints to fumble the opening kickoff. (That's only because I want them to cut Roby.) 

Like who doesn't like a shirt with pretty little dolphins on it? 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

The guy across the street just got a new wife and moved her in. They met when she applied for a job in one of his Subways. My mom: "Now she has nine of the motherfuckers." 

A kid in the neighborhood threw one of those confetti eggs at our side window. "Fucking confetti everywhere." 

Mom sees me as I walk out the door to the Saints-Dolphins game. "Are you wearing a fucking Dolphins shirt?" 

Mom and I are sitting outside. She looks around. "Fucking lovebugs everywhere." 

Mom thinks my dad and I are alike. "Two fucking peas in a pod." 

RANDOM THOUGHT

New thing to add to my shit list: This thing in sitcoms where one character (usually on the show for one episode) calls a main character by a slightly different name in multiple ways throughout the episode so as to belittle the main character. 

It seems every show has an episode like this. It ain't funny. Though I think it would be funny if a show did this situation but the insulter used names that weren't even close to the name of the main character. 

PARTING SHOT

The latest and possible greatest Paul-ism. We're talking about David's birthday party Saturday.

Paul (completely serious): They gonna have crawfish? 

Me: Uh, no. 

Paul: Why? Is that like only around for a certain part of the year?  

BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND

Guess who's back
Back again
Gene Pool's back
Tell a friend
Guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back

I've created a monster, cuz nobody wants to see Gene no more
They want Tina, I'm chopped liver

OK, that was the beginning of Eminem's Without Me. But you have to admit, the past week has felt a little empty without me, right? Or so the six people who complained to me about no recent entries tell me.

What have I been up to? Well, not much. I enjoyed hitting the softball on Sports Saturday and running down Bert's fly balls. My apologies to Little Joe for some lousy pitching on his turn at-bat.

Last Wednesday, I met Kelly, Bert and Paul at Fox & Hound for some free shuffleboard. Paul and I played two games by ourselves when the couple left to make it home in time for Top Chef at 11 p.m. Like who has to be in front of the TV while the show airs these days? They ever heard of a DVR or fuck, a VCR?

Paul won the first game 16-1, but I responded with a 15-1 victory in the second match. We decided against a rubber match.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER
The highlights from the past week.

My mom and I went to lunch last Thursday. I wasn't ready on time in her view. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Mom is doing something in the kitchen. I'm in the other room. "Motherfuck me!"

Mom is being followed too closely by a fellow driver on Hickory. So, mom plays a game where she comes to a complete stop as both of them are turning. The other driver had to swerve slightly to avoid hitting her. He was pissed. Mom didn't care. "Ha. Ha. Ha. With your little Mazda. Piece of shit."

On the anniversary of Katrina, mom recalled a fond memory. "And then the next day was the hottest fucking day ever." She repeated that exact statement Tuesday.

Mom and I watched the Little League World Series title game Sunday. The Taiwan coach has a meeting on the mound with his team.
Me: Ma, what do you think he's saying to the players?
Mom: Fuck all ya'll motherfuckers.

Mom is cutting a piece of cake Tuesday afternoon. "This fucking shit is melting."

MOVIE REVIEW

The Legend of Bagger Vance. 2000. Solid, though could have been better.

Yes Man. 2008. Wasn't expecting much, but I thought it was some fine Jim Carrey work.

Leatherheads. 2008. Why does Hollywood keep trying to convince me that Renee Zellweger is attractive? Give up already.

Trouble the Water. 2008. Katrina and its aftermath documentary. Ya heard?

RANDOM THOUGHT

It always gets me when people start a new relationship (in real life and more often in TV and movies) and one of the members or a friend of one of the members says, "I hope it works out (or I think it's going to work out)."

What exactly does "work out" mean? Is the relationship going to the gym? Seriously, though, if the couple breaks up, then it didn't work out, right? So, "work out" means ends in marriage and then death. Well, then let's say that. Let's not sugar coat this shit.

PARTING SHOTS
On August 29th, I'm talking to Kelly.

Me: Happy Anniversary.
Kelly: Anniversary for wha .... oh.

Danny was sad about the lack of a Gene Pool.

Danny: Now I don't know what to do with myself before I go to bed.

At work Tuesday, we're discussing Derry's fondness for singing.

D: Derry, you rap?
Derry: I did rap Saturday.
Marcus: Yeah, sandwiches.

LIGHT ONE UP

This is my 420th day in a row with a blog entry. Quite the streak when you think about all the pitfalls.

But I have a bit of bad news for all you loyal followers. The streak will not reach 421. I'll give you a second to catch your breath. OK. A few seconds. ....... Recovered? Good.

Don't worry. Like MacArthur once said: I shall return. When that comeback is, however, I can't exactly tell you. Until then, hold your head up (literally, do it now!) and keep on reaching for the stars.

And with that, he vanished.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom reminds me how much my ticket for failure to maintain control will cost. "Two hundred and fucking 80 dollars."

Mom wouldn't sit in the crowd if I went on Millionaire. Instead, she'd hang out in New York. "Who wants to sit in the fucking audience?"

PARTING SHOT
We're discussing the women's football team (New Orleans Blaze) and how they won some kind of game a few weeks ago.

Me: Those girls don't mess around.
Marcus: Some of them do. You got to meet them at the right time.

A TOP LIST
My top five moments of August.

5) Scavenger Hunt. Aug. 14.
During a fight during the hunt:

Kelly: This is ridiculous.
Paul: You're ridiculous.

4) Sports Saturdays.
The first one was rained out. The fourth one was a 5-on-5 football game. I'd say that's a steady improvement.

3) Green Day concert. Aug. 7.
I need to be on the floor next time.

2) My story published. Aug. 16.
Only one comment on nola. What's up with that?

1) Car wreck. Aug. 10.
My new theory is that aliens caused the accident.

THAT'S THE TICKET

It's been two weeks since I ran into a parked car with my car on a side street in Harahan. Today was also the day I called the Harahan court house to find out the scoop on my ticket.

Turns out, failure to maintain control is worth $280 to the city. See you October 6th!

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom looks out at her garden. "Fucking weeds."

Mom doesn't like my sleeping arrangements. "Why do you have two fucking blankets?"

The time disappears from the stove. "What the fuck?"

DID YOU KNOW?

Did you know that Michael Jackson was murdered? Did you the Saints have played two preseason game? Did you know that Brett Favre plays for the Vikings? Did you know that Glenn Beck said some mean things about the president?

NO WORK AND ALL PLAY

For the past week, I've been on vacation. It's the first time since that storm that I've taken more than one extra day off in a week and didn't leave town. It felt good to recharge the batteries. 

Here's a list of everything I accomplished with my time off: 

Yup, that's about it. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom said something happened today that never happens in late August. "The water is fucking cold in the pool." 

Mom is watching Entourage. Turtle gets turned down. "That's OK, Turtle. I'd do you. You're my fucking one." 

MOVIE WEEK IN REVIEW

Sweet Home Alabama. 2002. Warmed the heart. 

The Goods. 2009. Disappointing. 

Say Anything. 1989. Didn't understand why the movie is called Say Anything. That phrase had nothing to do with John Cusack. 

Caveman. 1981. Waste of time. 

Wall Street. 1987. Great flick. Loved the ending. 

Role Models. 2008. "Obviously, we're not supposed to butt-fuck the kids." 

RANDOM THOUGHT OF EVERY SO OFTEN

You know the phrase "hit 'em and quit 'em"? Sure, you do. Well, I was thinking: There needs to be variations of this one because I'm getting sick of hearing this. So, I came up with these alternatives:

1) Nail 'em and bail on 'em.

2) Screw it and shoo it.

3) Tap it and scrap it (my personal favorite)

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL? 

We had our most successful Sports Saturday in its short existence with a 5-on-5 football game at Jefferson Playground. This was mostly due to eight people from Friday's fantasy draft showing up for a full football weekend. 

We used a 50-yard field and played to seven touchdowns, before switching to a 40-yard field and playing to five touchdowns. My favorite play I made was a buttonhook route that turned into a touchdown and looked much like one Meachem used later in the night vs. the Texans. 

Just two hours later, I was regretting playing that second game. I'm in pain. Let's just say I might be in the same doctor's office as Jammal Brown on Monday. Oww. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom is thinking about getting out of her cell phone contract that she was so adamant about getting last November. I break down the numbers to see if it's worth the $200 penalty, and it its by about four bucks a month. Mom: "I guess I'll just stick with my fucking plan." 

SAINTS AND THEIR SATIONS

Boy were the Saints impressive in their preseason game against the Texans. This team has the potential to be scary good. The offense looks like its playing Madden on rookie level. I really hope Arrington and Rod Harper make the team. 

On defense, you can tell the unit still isn't very good. The aggressiveness, however, the players have this year is the difference. Sure, they'll give up solid chunks of rushing yards and leave some receivers open, but they beat the shit out of you when they tackle you. The turnover differential is going to be night and day this season, which should lead to the playoffs. 

Also Saturday afternoon, I watched some of the Saintsations calendar on CST. Oh yeah. One girl, I forget her name, said this during her interview: "I've been with the team for two years now. So, this is my second year." 

PARTING SHOT

At Hawaiian karaoke night at the Rickshaw in Harahan, I try to get Kelly to sing. 

Me: So, Kelly, what ya gonna sing? 

Kelly: Uh, your praises. 

IT'S ALL PART OF MY FANTASY

On Friday night, we had our fantasy auction draft at David's house from 8:30 p.m. to 1 a.m. We didn't start right away because we had to settle some arguments on how the league was to be setup. 

You see, I wanted it one way, and everybody else wanted it another way. I didn't like it at all, but I had to be that guy of the group, like the lone juror who votes not guilty. Basically, I was a dick, but a necessary dick, if you ask me. 

Issue #1: Last year with eight teams in the league, we had six teams make the playoffs. You know who ended up in the championship? Yeah, the fifth and sixth place teams. I made it my mission to not let such a travesty happen again. 

OK. Slight curveball. We upgraded to 10 teams this year, so people thought this wouldn't be an issue. I don't think so, buddy. I made a stand. 

This was my reasoning: a) If the sixth-place team out of 10 makes the playoffs, you're giving a team that finished in the bottom half of the league (aka, a loser) the chance to win the title with a couple lucky weeks at the end. I wanted four teams to make it. b) In the NFL, only 12 out of 32 teams to make it. These people would want 17 teams to make it. 

We then voted on this issue. How many people voted with me for a four (or even five-team playoff)? None. 9-1 in favor of letting the sixth-place team make the playoffs. The playoffs are a honor. Something that is earned. Ugh. 

My dick moment: "I'm thinking about quitting the league if we don't do something about this." Childish? Yes. Necessary? Yes. The compromise: The team that finishes with the best record is at least guaranteed to get his money back. 

Issue #2: We started the auction system last year for the purpose of being able to keep two players. I made a really good draft pick of Roddy White for five points and was glad to be rewarded by keeping him for years at a cheap price. 

However, this became in jeopardy because it was "unfair" to the new teams. I even accepted a compromise where the newbies would get to select one player from the list of unkept players to start their team. 

My dick moment: "Fuck the new teams." 

The vote: 8-2 in favor of completely starting over. Only Paul voted with me. Ugh. 

Anyway, here's the new lineup for the Gene Poolers. 

QB: Peyton Manning (I overpaid for him. That's on me.)

QB: Chad Pennington: (Dolphin!)

RB: Adrian Peterson (No. 1 player)

RB: Maurice Jones-Drew (Could be the best RB duo in our league)

RB: Thomas Jones (A steal as a backup)

WR: Roddy White (Had to pay 23 points to get him back)

WR: Ted Ginn Jr. (Dolphin!)

WR: Nate Washington (Last pick of draft)

WR: Robert Meachem (Hey, it was one point)

TE: John Carlson (A sleeper according to ESPN)

Kicker: David Akers 

Defense: Saints (Shh.)

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom left her sun roof open today during the downpour. "Now I got to wait for my fucking car to dry." Later in the day, she looks outside. "Still fucking raining." 

Mom reads the story about the guy getting sentenced for fighting during a little league game. "That's bullshit." 

Me: What's wrong with not shaking hands? 

Mom: They fucking 8-year-olds. 

Mom's temporary tooth fell out Friday afternoon. She said "fuck" six times and "motherfuck" once. 

Mom gives one of her theories on driving. "I drive in the middle so nobody can fuck me." Anything else? "I hate fucking 18-wheelers." 

Mom went to a big store early Friday. "I went into Macy's for the first time today. That motherfucker is large." 

I tease mom about her phone bill. "Fuck you, Gene." 

RANDOM THOUGHT OF EVERY SO OFTEN

If you use the nickname thing where you call somebody by their two initials, my name would be G.G., which sounds like a girl's name. Though it did work wonders for Gordon Gekko. 

ANNIVERSARY WEEK CONTINUES

It was eight years ago today that I started working at the T-P. How did I celebrate this anniversary? By drinking heavily. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom enjoyed reading the story about the JC Penny caper on the front page of Thursday's paper. "You see someone got into the fucking JC Penny and stole $1.5 million? That ain't the only one. They hittin' all the fucking JC Pennys. Fucking robbing JC Penny. Not a jewelry store. JC Penny." 

Mom read something or saw something about Natalie Portman. "Did you know she graduated from Harvard? She has a fucking IQ out of this world." 

Mom sees the beginning of the fight Shockey got into during practice with the Texans on the news. She yells: "Here's the fight! ... Kick his ass!" 

COUPLES NIGHT

On Wednesday night, I met Little Joe and Jenna and Bert and Kelly (my favorite two couples from different groups of friends) at the Fox & Hound. 

Our plan was to play some highly competitive shuffleboard. That plan was thwarted, however, when the people already occupying the game when we arrived didn't stop playing for the next hour and a half. Basterds. 

RANDOM THOUGHT OF EVERY SO OFTEN

I'm trying to start a new thing where you refer to someone by deleting the first letter of his/her first and last name. It's been fun so far. 

ANNIVERSARY WEEK KICKS OFF WITH SOME MEDALS

On Tuesday night, we had our three year Yat-Together Anniversary at Fresco on Maple. A tremendous accomplishment indeed. Who would have thought in August 2006 that we would have made it to August 2009? (Never mind the two months we didn't have one.) 

Not only did we make it, but we had perfect attendance for the big event. Ever the sentimental type, I bought eight medals at the Dollar General on Tuesday afternoon to award at the dinner. The medal band is red, white and blue and at the end, there is a gold circle. On one side is a big star, and on the other side, we have five stars with the word WINNER on it. 

After we ordered our food, I took out my medal and put it around my neck until somebody noticed the silly medallion. Which didn't take long. I then took out a box with seven other medals and presented them to the winners. 

For longest jazz musical written: Bode

For (ironic) perfect attendance: Amanda

For hottest worker at Saints camp: Christina

For most bi-friendly member of the group: Kevin

For most copies made: Greg

For best non-Loyola student: Stephen

For best tipper: Kelli 

Bode and I split the large chicken pesto pizza. Delicious. The main topic of conversation was hot and juicy but was later stricken from the record to protect the innocent. 

After dinner, I headed to the Palace for a movie, where I was introduced to Paul's girlfriend for the first time. Of course, then the movie started, so I can't tell you anything about her. Other than what I've read on her facebook profile using Paul's password. 

 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom couldn't wait Wednesday to tell me what happened on Big Brother. Apparently, someone's authority got overtaken when trying to kick somebody out of the house and their friend got booted instead. Something like that.

"Then, she just fucking went off. Wouldn't stop. She threw her mic in the pool and kept screaming. They had to kick her off the show. But she knew what she was doing. She thinks she's going to be the next fucking Amarosa. That's why she did it. To get famous." 

AS GOOD AS NEW

At 3:30 p.m. Tuesday afternoon, my phone rang with a number I didn't recognize. I answered it to learn that my car would be ready in 20 minutes at the body shop. Wow. That's a full week before they said it would be ready. 

Before we left, Tina said: "A little fucking damage costs a lot of money and headaches for everyone." On the way to the body shop, she said: "Now just pay more fucking attention when you drive." 

My beautiful car was parked in front of the building and looked like it was brand new. We gave it an inspection and didn't find anything. Tina was impressed with the work, especially since she was dreading the "grand unveiling." 

As I was about to pay the $500 deductible (out of the $4,250 of repair costs) and get my keys back, Tina came into the building and stopped me. She found something. We got a worker out there to show him. This led to a 15-minute discussion with the worker and somebody from Volkswagon on the phone.  

What was the cause of this ordeal that's making me go back in a week or so to get the new part? Yup, Tina realized that one of the bolts under the hood wasn't the same color as the rest. 

There you go. It's like nothing ever happened. Nope. I didn't hit a parked car with the left front of my car. Everything is back to normal now. Well, except the increasing of my car insurance. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom finished watching the entire season of Entourage. "Fucking took them five years to make that shit. I watched it in eight days." Then, a while later. "Fucking Turtle never took his hat off in the first four seasons. Then he takes it off. He shouldn't have done that." 

We run some errands. Mom sees a house has sold down the street. "Fucking home sold already. Only been one month." (There's still six houses for sale in the neighborhood.) 

Mom read the Jonas Brothers story in the paper. "Fucking Jonas Brothers celebrated Joe's 2oth birthday at a skating rink on the West Bank." 

Me: Well, they couldn't go to the French Quarter.

Mom: Why not?

Me: Got an image to protect. 

Mom: Bullshit. 

Mom has been enjoying a new program. "That show Dating in the Dark. Fucking hilarious." 

RANDOM THOUGHT OF EVERY SO OFTEN

Five times a week at the urinal at work, I get the chance to literally piss on my name. And I like to take advantage of that. 

PARTING SHOT

As she was leaving her post at the nola.com desk Monday night, Jelly stopped by her old stomping grounds in the sports section. She stood next to her old desk and said something to Bake. I interrupt. 

Jelly: Shut up, Gene. (And it felt like old times in the Triangle of Trust.) 

NEAR HOME RUNS AND DICE ROLLING

Saturday was an eventful day for me. Let's break it down.

10:15 a.m.: Wake up to the sound of a thunderstorm, putting Sports Saturdays in jeopardy once again. Have I done something to piss off the rain gods?

Noon: My dad and I arrive at the Jefferson Playground baseball field, with the rain miraculously a distant memory. I take three rounds of hitting, and pops takes one.

The fence in left field is 295 feet away. Pops got into one real good, and it landed about 20 feet shy of the fence. You can tell that in his day, he could have put the ball way out. As for me, most of my good hits were screaming line drives, though I did crush one that landed about two feet in front of the fence.

12:45 p.m.: Bert and Jacob show up, and Bert and I play catch until Kelly and Nicole arrive. The gals got there a tad bit late because Kelly drove past the field and ended up near New Orleans before calling Bert for help.

1:15: Bert, Jacob, Nicole, Kelly and I took turns hitting a softball on a little field next to the baseball field. I felt like a monster on that field. As far as defense, I made a nice diving catch of one of Nicole's hits and an exhilarating, long running catch of one of Bert's blasts.

The main thing I have to show for my afternoon of baseball/softball is four blisters on my left hand. The baseball bat I used with my dad doesn't have grips anymore, and my racquetball glove didn't exactly do the trick as a batting glove. Hopefully, that heals for football this Saturday.

3:30: After getting dropped off (I feel like I'm 15 again with peeps driving me around) at home and taking a shower, I (using Tina's car) met the gang (now joined by Paul) at McAlister's for lunch. I just snacked on some of Kelly's nachos because I had a bigger dinner with me for work.

4:30: Work time. Blah. Blah. Blah.

11: I meet Kelly, Bert, Nicole and some others at the Big Easy bar in Elmwood just in time to split some fries with Kelly. They had a trio of old dudes rocking some classic tunes. Not bad.

1 a.m.: Our group decides to take our party downtown to the casino. This wasn't my idea, but I said, what the heck, I'll go. And I had a casino first. I DIDN'T GAMBLE. Let me write that one more time in case it didn't quite sink in. On Saturday night at Harrah's, I DIDN'T GAMBLE.

I watched Bert win $107 at craps. Before Saturday, my experience with craps was only on the casino episodes of TV sitcoms, where a character always ends up at the craps table going crazy. Craps be complicated, but now I understand some of it.

3:30: After Nicole ran out of credits on some party themed slot machine, we headed for the exits by passing through the Masquerade. As soon as we walked in, a fight broke out. One dude must have made a move on another dude's girl because those two went at it, with a huddled mass surrounding them.

3:45: We were able to avoid getting caught up in the mess. I think the highlight of the fight was a chick trying to break it up by stepping in front of her man as both dudes had their fists up. Not smart. I was so exhausted from the day, I fell asleep in the back of Kelly's car on the way home.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

I walk out to the patio Monday afternoon.
Me: Your paint is peeling.
My mom: No shit.

Mom is upset with a soap opera. "Fucking Guiding Light has five weeks left, and they can't come up with any good storylines. Fucking sad."

Mom looks out the window to see the wet pavement. "Fucking rain."

Mom and I watched Millionaire from Sunday night.

-- On expert for the evening Connie Chung: "Fucking expert, my ass."
-- On a question about a cactus: "I thought cactus didn't have fucking water."
-- On an ad during the show for a new show called Shark Tank: "They come up with some bullshit every fucking year."
-- On getting a question correct about the colors of the google letters: "I don't even use it, and I fucking knew that."

DID YOU KNOW?

Did you know that Michael Vick is back in the NFL and signed with the Eagles? Did you know he went to jail for a dogfighting ring? Did you know that Obama's health care hasn't been met with universal praise? Did you know that tropical storm season has started to pick up steam?

PARTING SHOT
The Steelers sent us a press kit, and in it was some of Troy Polamalu's hair. We give the kit to resident Steelers fan Phil.

Marcus: You know, Phil. That hair's not from his head.

I'M ALL IN

On the front page of Sunday's sports section, I had my first published article since April 2007. And back then it was about the VooDoo, so I'm not even sure if that really counts or even happened. Actually, Sunday's article was the first story I've ever had on the front page. Woohoo!

For the rest of this item, I will attempt to write in Wikipedia style.

Concept of idea

While I was on vacation in Panama City, I spent one of the nights following the World Series of Poker through live updates on several Web sites. At one point, I was talking to Lopes when we realized the chip leader had a Saints hat on.

Lopes did some quick research and found out he was from Oakland, Md., and cheers for the Saints because he likes underdogs. We decided I should pitch the story to the sports editor in the hopes of writing a masterpiece.

A few days after I got back to work, I printed out a picture of Darvin Moon and showed it to him. Halfway through my spiel on why this would make a great story, he cut me off. "I like it. Do it."

Getting in contact with Moon

I couldn't have been more excited to do this article. It was about two things I have a crazy passion for: poker and the Saints. What I didn't anticipate was the difficulty I would have in tracking down Mr. Moon, who "disappeared back into the woods." His words.

The sports editor OKed the story July 20. I started my process July 21. I interviewed Moon on Aug. 3.

Step 1: I look up Darvin Moon on Yellowpages. One result for D. Moon came up in Oakland, Md. The old lady that answered, however, said she didn't know a Darvin.

Step 2: His local paper ran a story about him. I call there. I was told to call back the next day because the sports editor was busy all day with production. The next day he told me he wasn't able to contact Moon for the story and just used quotes from Vegas.

You get that? The town has 1,900 people. Moon and the sports editor probably live in the same freakin' subdivision. Can you say lazy? He did tell me that Moon's sister works at the local CVS, and he gave me that number.

Step 3: I interview ESPN poker commentator Norman Chad on July 24. He told me he had no idea how to contact Darvin. Neither did the ESPN worker who connected me with Chad.

Step 4: I call the CVS in Oakland, Md. The worker who answered accidentally tells me that Moon's wife Wendy also works at the CVS. I leave my name and number with that worker to give to Wendy. Nothing happened.

Step 5: On Monday, July 27, I call the CVS again. Amazingly, the person on the other end said: "Hi. This is Wendy. How may I help you?" I gave her the full spiel, and she told me she'd have her husband call me in the next day or so. Fine.

Step 6: By Saturday, I realize Darvin wasn't calling. I find a decent article on a poker Web site written about Moon while he was in Vegas. I e-mail that author to see if he has any contact information. I have yet to get a response from him.

Step 7: On Monday, Aug. 3, I call the CVS for a third time. I decided waiting a week was enough time for me not to sound like a total jackass. Try telling that to Wendy. She was pissed at me.

Wendy: Look, you can't keep calling me here at work.
Me: Well, can I have Darvin's contact info? And I can just call him.
Wendy: No. People have been selling his number. You were the one calling about the Saints, right?
Me: Yes. It will be a fun interview.
Wendy: OK. I'll have him call. But please don't call me here again. And don't call his mother anymore, either.

Interview and crafting

Later that night, my phone rang near deadline at work. I had no choice but to answer. Moon and I then rapped about the Saints and poker for 30 minutes. Moon was very matter-of-fact with his answers. The millions he has won and is about to win has had no affect on him. His life is cutting down trees, and he ain't letting no $8 mil get in the way of that.

Moon is a nice guy. He just doesn't want any spotlight on him, and that's why nobody can get in contact with him. I will cheer for him in November.

I spent my off day that Wednesday (Aug. 5) working up the story. I turned it in that Thursday night, and the sports editor read it early the next week, slating it for Sunday's release. On Friday and Saturday, Brick and Bake made some necessary corrections and additions, with Bake slapping a winning headline (OVERACHIEVING UNDERDOG) on it.

Reception

My article has been met with universal praise.

Loyola professor Dr. Larry Lorenz (via facebook): "Good story this morning, Gene."
Sports editor (via AIM): "Good story. My wife even read it."
Danny (via AIM): "Nice story today. I saw your byline and thought it was going to be a first-person account of your life. The Gene Pool in print."

The best comment on nola has come from Shane504: Good luck dude and thx for supporting the Saints. Now go get your money and come on down South and see our boys.

The best praise actually came from the Saints, who contacted the sports editor early Sunday to tell him they loved the article. Vice President of Communications Greg Bensel then sent me a text message. The Saints want to get in touch with Darvin.

I was happy to hook them up. I just hope Wendy doesn't yell at Drew Brees.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom is flipping through the stations and stops for a second on Air Force One. Harrison Ford calls the White House from the plane, but the operator doesn't believe him. Mom yells: "He's the fucking president, asshole!"

Mom opens some mail. "The 28th? You ain't giving me much time, motherfucker."

I'm watching Friday's episode of Conan featuring Shaq. "Fucking Conan has so much shit in his hair it goes back into place after he shakes it."

MOVIE WEEK IN REVIEW

Taken. 2008. Overall, I liked it. Great pace, solid acting and exciting action and story. Some of the background explanation sucked, and several times, there was no explanation for the next step in the hunting-down-the-bad-guys process.

I Love You, Man. 2009. Good bromance comedy. Enjoyed it, especially some subtle references to other things I like.

PARTING SHOT
Liam and I are discussing possible headlines for the PGA Championship.

Liam (getting it started): Sulking Tiger. ...
Me: Hidden Wang.
Liam (laughing): You mean Yang.
Me: Oh, right.

LOOKIE AT WHAT WE FOUND

Bert, Kelly, Paul, Jacob and I competed in a scavenger hunt hosted by the Palace on Friday night. We (and by we, I mean everyone but Paul, our captain) were excited about participating because it was free for us. Paul told us there was a team fee of $10, but he was paying for it.

We learned much differently at the start of the competition. It was $10 per team member. Paul ain't so good at the reading and comprehending. Don't worry. I'm signing him up at that Derek Zoolander school next semester.

The scavenger hunt commenced at 7 p.m. It ended at 1 a.m. (and really 3 a.m. if you count the two hours to calculate the scores outside in the back of the Palace.)

In the middle of the event (10:45 p.m.), we had to meet the organizers on the steps at the Jackson Ampitheatre for more instructions. Basically, there were about 1,000 things to take pictures of throughout the city (besides the movie, Metairie, French Quarter and Family Guy trivia), but with only a limited amount of time, we had to pick and choose what we did.

The highlights:

-- Kelly convinced three Wal-Mart workers to pose as Charlie's Angels. She did this by telling them the scavenger hunt was in conjunction with the Ronald McDonald House.
-- The word cock was written on my face. After the festivities, Bert said: "Gene, don't forget to wipe that cock off your face."
-- Kelly, Jacob and Paul recreated (well, sort of) the Beat It dance at Jackson Square.
-- We walked down Bourbon Street answering trivia questions and taking pictures of things like big boobs and strip club signs.
-- Jacob and Paul did something freaky with a dildo at Mr. Binky's in Elmwood.
-- My personal favorite moment: Paul and I chasing three ducks at Lafreniere.

-- And, last but certainly not least, we kidnapped a kid in the Wal-Mart. It's OK. We gave him back. But yeah, some random 6-year-old came with us around the store taking pictures before trying to find his parents when we left. Weird stuff.

We came in fourth place out of eight teams. Mediocre! Second place had 253 points, third had 245 and we had 238. Fifth place was less than 200. So, we were close to getting our money back for second place.

Too bad in-fighting wasn't part of the rules. We so would have won that portion.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

After I returned from the scavenger hunt at 3:30 a.m., I watched the Saints preseason game until I fell asleep. My mom walks in during the first quarter. "You watching this bullshit?"

I tell mom about the setup for the scavenger hunt and going all over town. "That ain't no scavenger hunt. That's bullshit."

After a storm Saturday morning, the sun came out. "Fucking sun."

PARTING SHOTS
We run a photo in the paper of some girls playing a football game. (The New Orleans Blaze won something called the International Bowl. Woohoo!).

Liam: Chicks dig the the long ball.
Bake: Chicks did the pigskin. Pig and a poke.

We find out that hairpulling is allowed when tackling in this women's league.

Liam: I'd have short hair.
Bake: Then they'd tackle you by the short-hairs.

BETEEN ME AND YOU

On the way out the building Thursday night, I noticed a sign posted on the door of the cafeteria. That can only mean one thing: They're going to be stripping and waxing floors at some point this weekend. I was right; it's happening Sunday. 

Actually, a sign such as that posted also can mean something else: The cleaning crew person who posted it has a 50-50 shot at making a mistake somewhere on the sign. And this my friends landed on the good side of that 50-50. 

Turns out, leaving the "w" out isn't that uncommon of a mistake. I googled the word beteen, and it yielded 103,000 results, with the first page of stuff all involving the between misspelled as beteen. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

Paul let my mom borrow his seasons of Entourage. Not surprisingly, she loves the show. "I need to own this. It's fucking great." 

Mom is frustrated with my lack of production. "Don't want to lift a fucking finger." 

Mom and I are discussing friend finder on the Internet. I tell her if you google friend finder, you also get results for adult friend finder. "That's for fuck buddies?" 

Mom went to Wal-Mart today. Her first curse about that place in a while: "Fucking Wal-Mart. I bet there were five things I couldn't get. Fucking out. Such bullshit." 

THE STUPID CALLERS: FROM THE FILES OF T-P SPORTS

Like the Naked Gun title.

Brick received a call Thursday night about a recent sports murder. 

Caller: Did Andre Ware get killed a couple weeks ago?

Brick: No. Steve McNair. 

PARTING SHOT

I had to be the last one left watching the Pirates-Cubs 17-2 game in the ninth inning. 

Bob: To this day, I even wear a jockstrap to watch games. It's just more comfortable. 

Len (after a pause): T-M-I. 

YA'LL JUST WAIT 'TIL NEXT YEAR

After the recent skid (losing six of seven), it might be safe to declare the Cubs' season over. I'm never one to completely abandon ship, but I ain't holding my breath. 

Instead, I decided to do a statistical breakdown based on Derry saying they had no chance because they can't beat good teams this year. Let's look at some numbers. 

Cubs record vs. winning teams through May: 10-11.

Cubs record vs. losing teams through May: 15-13. 

Cubs record vs. winning teams since May: 9-22. 

Cubs record vs. losing teams since May: 24-9. 

Within the division, the Cubs have a winning record against every team but one. Guess which team that is? Yeah, the only winning team in the group: the Cardinals. 

We've proven that the Cubs are the definition of mediocrity here. The good news lies in the breakdown of remaining games. 

Games against winning teams left: 12.

Games against losing teams left: 37. 

If the percentages of their record (vs. losing and winning teams) since May keep up, the Cubs will finish with a record of 89-73. (Also keep in mind that this would be the Cubs first streak of three winning seasons in a row since 1972.) 

Wait, maybe it ain't over quite yet. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom was upset when I first greeted her Thursday. "I've got a fucking mess in my backyard." 

Mom and I watched Wednesday night's edition of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" A contestant didn't know what coin was the thickest, guessing a quarter. "It's fucking change!" 

Mom sees that Lauren Conrad has written a book with another one on the way. "Everybody's got a fucking book. Why can't I write a fucking book? I can write one about how shit life has been." 

EAT FRESH AND OFTEN

On my 8.5-mile drive to work, I pass four Subways. Four. I think that's two too many. In comparison, I pass two McDonald's and that's the only other place that doubles up. 

PARTING SHOT

I read that Sean Payton is looking for a new house. 

Me: Tell him to move to my street.

Liam: Why? So you can run into his parked car?

A GEORGE DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF ... 

On Wednesday night, we (Bert, Paul, Jacob, Kelly and I) went out to dinner to celebrate Kelly starting her new job teaching the little kids in Des Allemands starting Thursday. For the second time this year, I found myself watching the hibachi chef at Miyako.

But before we headed out to St. Charles, Paul and I gave Kelly a present we picked up at the mall Monday afternoon. It's one of those clay molded things of the old K&B store. Works on two levels: Kelly and Bert and those are her initials. 

Needless to say, she loved it. "Thank you guys so much. I'm so excited!" 

Did the hibachi chef just shoot the bird at me? Oh, wait. That's his index finger. 

I didn't eat at Miyako. Had enough of that place at the March Yat-Together. I did, however, enjoy the show the chef put on. That's fun. I even caught the shrimp in my mouth on the first flip. 

During dinner, Paul and Bert got into a fight. It was pretty silly. In the middle of the spat, Jacob quipped: "Let's check the menu and see if there are two Maxi pads for ya'll." 

After dinner, we went back to Kelly's house and played Seinfeld trivia. 

 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER 

My mom is upset with our finances. "I can't catch a fucking break. Every fucking week I gotta pay more money." 

Three comments from stories in the paper. 

1) Guy arrested for snapping photos up girls' dresses in the Slidell Wal-Mart. "It's like fucking high school when guys used to put mirrors on their shoes." 

2) Guy tries to steal an ATM machine by yanking it out with his truck. "They did that in fucking Barbershop." 

3) The DUI guy got his third and fourth DUIs upgraded to a felony. "Really? The DA had to read that in the T-P (to change it to a felony.) That's fucked up." 

Mom avoids an accident while making a turn. To the other driver: "You have a $30,000 automobile, learn how to use your fucking turn signal. Fucking Porsche." 

RANDOM THOUGHT OF EVERY SO OFTEN

How's this for a new fashion fad? Wear a belt but let the buckle hang loose. I sported that look in the past few days. I think it works. I bet it could sweep the nation. 

PARTING SHOT

At Miyako, I eavesdropped on the convo between three hot young ladies. 

Middle girl: She was rude to me at the crawfish boil.

End girl: What she say?

Middle: That I shouldn't be drinking because I'm only 20 and not 21 yet. 

Other end girl: Well, how old is she? 

Middle: I don't know. 25. Old. 

MY POOR, BEAUTIFUL CAR

My phone rang at 8 a.m. this morning, and I answered it in a drunken daze. OK. I haven't had alcohol since Friday night, but I probably sounded like I was in a drunken daze.

It was the guy whose wife's car I hit the previous day. You remember that accident, right? The one where I fucked up my 2-year old car. I was hoping to avoid him filing a claim against my insurance by paying for his damage out of pocket.

Guy: "Yeah. I just had the car looked at. It's going to be $3,200 to fix. What do you want to do?"
Me (in my head): Seriously? Oh, yeah. Fine. Let me just write a quick check for ya there. No problem.
Me (out loud with a sigh): Just go ahead and claim it.

As for my car, we went down to Champs Collision to talk to the GEICO man about the extent of my demolishing. He said I need a new bumper, fender and hood but that I didn't fuck up anything internally.

Tina: What about the paint job? Is it going to be the same color?
GEICO guy (deadpanned): Uh. Unfortunately, the only color we have for that kind of car is purple.

They say it will take two weeks to fix as the parts must came from our friends in Germany. The good news is that the car should look as good as new, though I highly doubt that. And who knows the effect this is going to have on my insurance. (I'm paying $500 of the repair damage.)

Oh, boy. I can't wait to find out.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER
My mom's favorite topic of discussion Tuesday was, you guessed it, the wreck.

"You wrecked your fucking car like it was a little fucking toy."

"Fucking Volkswagon crumples like a fucking whore in church."

Mom was miffed by the actions of the cop Monday. "What the fuck was up with asking where you work? What the fuck difference that make? Only in Harahan."

Early Tuesday, mom was worried about Champs being able to get the parts. "Your car is only made every five fucking years." (Thus, the importing from Germany.)

Mom thought the damage was much worse than it turned out to be. "Your door is fucked up. Your bumper is fucked up. Your panel is fucked up. Your hood is fucked up." (OK. So, she was only wrong about the door part.)

We find out that it will be two weeks before my car is fixed. "Two weeks. Motherfuck."

Mom finally talks about something else. "Going to the dentist tomorrow. Whole left side needs to be fucking deadened." And then. "Where's my fucking hair dryer? They been having it for two weeks. When they sending me a new one?"

FORTUNE (WELL, NOT REALLY) COOKIE

At lunch at P.F. Chang's on Monday afternoon, Minkus got an interesting fortune. I took it from him. It is my current motto. It reads: "The problems of today will soon be buried by the sand of time." I'm keeping that in my pocket for the time being.

PARTING SHOT
Derry is reading a story.

Derry: Why does he have to use 'But' to start another sentence every time. This should be one sentence.
Brick: Maybe he gets paid by the period.
Derry: I wish my wife did.

THE THREE MUSKETEERS GO ON A NOT-SO-GREAT ADVENTURE

In life, there are highs and lows. Over the weekend, I had one of the highest highs in recent memory: rockin' Green Day concert, crazy night at the daiquiri shop, a successful Sports Saturday, plus other stuff maybe I'll talk about later. 

I should have known better than to think this high would last into Monday when Paul, Minkus and I planned to attend Saints training camp and make a day of it. 

On the way to pick up Minkus at 7 a.m., I took a sip of orange juice right after I turned onto his street (basically across the highway from me). And that's when this happened ... 

My poor baby. Everyone cry with me. That happened at about 15 mph.

As I put down the orange juice, I looked at the road ahead to find a car in my path. I swerved as quickly and as much as I could, but I failed to avoid the accident. Oh wait. One more detail. The car I hit. Yeah, it was parked. 

Why do these accidents always f up my car worse than the other guy?
The morning turned into quite an event. Here Paul and Minkus, beautiful troopers that they were for hanging out with me through the hoopla that is the aftermath of an accident, take a break in the shade. Let's take a brief look at the madness after I had my first accident since October 2003. 

At impact, it didn't feel like the accident was that bad. I thought my car was going to look like the other car. I even tried to swing back around and park next to the other car before alerting any authorities. As you can see above, part of the car was jammed into the tire, so I had to stop almost in the middle of the street. 

The collision made such a big noise that no one came outside for the next 20 minutes. Eventually, our participants were Minkus, Paul, me, Tina, Minkus' mother, guy cop, girl cop, tow truck man No. 1, tow truck man No. 2, neighbor No. 1, neighbor No. 2, owner of the other car, owner of the other car's husband, who handled the negotiations. 

I spent more than an hour on the phone talking to Volkswagon, GEICO, the towing company and the body shop place. Everyone I talked to was incredibly nice, but I won't bore you with those details. 

How's this for fascinating? The owner of the car thought I wasn't all there. "How could this happen? He must have been speeding down the street. He had to be drunk. I want a breathalyzer test." 

For Paul, the highlight was when Tina showed up (before the tow truck and cop and before the other owner even knew). Obviously, she freaked out. But the funny part was her ripping apart the car. You read that right. Basically throwing loose parts around and trying to unhinge the car from being stuck in the tire. A sight to behold, indeed.

In the end, my car ended up at a body shop in Elmwood. It's getting assessed tomorrow. I got a ticket for "failure to maintain control." Court date is Oct. 6. 

So much for those low-insurance rates I just achieved by turning 25. And yeah, it wasn't a brief explanation. But damned if it wasn't entertaining. 

 
Wawwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!
What the heck, we went to Saints camp anyway and caught the final 43 minutes of offense-vs.-defense drills. And this punt drill, where Red Meat fields the ball. Pretty cool picture. 

This picture will not be appearing on the front cover of the Minnesota Vikings media guide. 

Highlights of the practice:

-- Shockey missing two perfectly placed deep balls from Brees. I was shocked.

-- Brees and Colston. What a combo. Saw them connect five times, the fourth being a diving catch by Colston between two defenders. Somehow this was not the T-P's Play of the Day. 

-- During the portion where players signed autographs, running back Mike Bell, who is in danger of losing his third-string spot due to fumbles, dropped a football that he was trying to sign for a kid. Me: "Fummmmbbbblllleeee!!!!!" 

-- I saw Christina for the first time since her wedding. She was working for her new PR company. Her client is McDonald's, and she was passing out coupons. So, that was awesome. 

The adventure didn't end there folks. We hit up P.F. Chang's for lunch, browsed the mall and had some Coldstone ice cream for a cheer-me up. 

At one point in the afternoon, Paul looked quizzically at Minkus. 

Paul: Sometimes I wonder about that boy. He does some dumb things. 

Me: Hey, I crashed into a parked car earlier. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

As you might imagine, this entry is dedicated purely to the crashing of my car, which was perfectly perfect for 2 years, 1 month and 3 days. 

In summary of the day: "You fucked up." Then later. "You fucked yourself." 

When I first got mom on the phone shortly after the accident, she offered this almost inconceivable advice. "You have two choices. Either leave and get out because nobody has seen you or go knock on the fucking door and tell them." (Wow.)

Right before that advice. "Oh my fucking god. What have you done?" 

"What the fuck were you doing in the left hand lane?" (I made a wide turn?)

"How do you crash into a fucking parked car?" (I'm not sure, but I did.)

PARTING SHOT

Fortus is reading prep stories for the big prep preview sections at the end of the month. 

Fortus (to Trey): "Are Class 3A schools bigger than 2A?"

FRIDAY NIGHT PICTURES

I've decided that Friday night's Green Day concert is my third favorite concert of all-time. If only I was a little closer I could have taken some better pictures. But oh well.

I thought putting two buses outside the arena with their faces on it and playing their music was a tad bit lame for Green Day. Then again so was yelling New Orleans during 10 songs, but I let that go. Also, these morons apparently didn't think it was a lame idea.

That was the background when they first came out to play the first three tracks from 21st Century Breakdown. In fact, it was the 21st Century Breakdown tour.

That's some pretty cool lighting. As with all the pictures I deleted, you can't tell what be happening on the stage. Well, what's going on here is that Billie Joe has invited a teenage boy on stage to sing a verse from one of Green Day's 200 songs about masturbation.

After the concert, Bert and I met the gal pals (Paul, Kelly) and Nicole at the Daiquiri shop in Elmwood. Yeah, be jealous. There we witnessed a going-away party that featured on-top-the-bar dancing and a group of friends (separate from the party) take away the car keys from a Six Beers.

Six Beers was so pissed he emptied his pockets of all his change. That was very weird. I held back the desire to pick up the coins. That would have been sad. But would have provided a free meal. There was way more than I fit into this photo.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom watches Flo Rida perform on Conan. "Fucking make a million dollars on this crap."

Mom reads the front-page story on the guy who killed someone while drunk driving and had three DUIs already. "That's an ugly motherfucker."

I ask mom if she knows about the Cash for Clunkers program. "Yeah. What the fuck is going on with that?" There were also four WTFs at other random stuff Sunday.

MOVIE WEEK IN REVIEW

Funny People 2009. Overall, I liked it. It was 20 minutes too long and took some weird turns in the second half. Best quote: "Don't put me in a corner. I will fuck my way out of it."

He's Just Not That Into You. 2009. At first, I was just not into this movie. By the end, I thought it was OK. Girls be crazy, yo.

PARTING SHOT
Conan is talking about a TV reporter fired in Miami for being "too gay."

Conan: Yeah. It became real apparent he was gay when during a newscast, he stood behind his co-anchor and said, 'This just in.'

A TOP LIST
My top five John Hughes movies.

5) Breakfast Club. 1985.
Don't you forget about John. Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't.

4) Dennis the Menace. 1993.
Underrated film. I watched it maybe 10 times.

3) Ferris Bueller's Day Off. 1986.
The best of his 80s teen films if you ask me.

2) Planes, Trains & Automobiles. 1987.
Classic comedy adventure.

1) Home Alone. 1990.
Kevin, what did you do to my room?

FOOTBALL ALL THE WAY

I awoke this morning to the sound of thunder.
(On my bed) I sat and wondered

Those are Bob Seger lyrics. But that's how my morning started at 10:45 a.m. with rain drops pelting my window and the thunder roaring in the distance. It looked like Sports Saturdays Part II was in jeopardy.

Never, however, did I doubt we were playing Saturday. After all, last week I declared football would happen rain or shine. Plus, I tried willing it to stop.

There were several doubters in the group that we could play even if it stopped raining because the field would be in such terrible shape. With that in mind, I showed up at Jefferson Playground 15 minutes early (yes, I can be early for something) to check out the field conditions.

Turns out, Jefferson has an amazing drainage system. Around the track area was swampy, but the middle of the field was hardly wet. No puddles. Perfect for football, other than the ball getting wet after it hit the ground a few times.

At first, I was out there with just Chuck throwing the ball around, and it started raining steadily, threatening our game again. Bert, in fact, thought it was off until I called him and told him to get his ass over there.

Eventually, our lineup was me, Chuck, Little Joe, Bert, Kelly and Jacob. That's 3-on-3 for those keeping track at home. Not as many as you'd hope for, but enough for a quality game.

And you know what else? It stopped raining right after we started playing. Heck, the sun even came out and wore us the fuck out. In case you're wondering, my team won both games, but that's neither here nor there.

Highlights of the 1 1/2 hours of action
-- Kelly's interception and near return for a touchdown
-- My juke into a spin move to make two people miss at the same time; eat your heart out Red Meat
-- All the jump bumps Joe and I did, and Kelly and I inventing our own handshake

Sports Saturdays Part III is next Saturday with some baseball/softball. Be there.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom read Ramon's story about the dead stripper. "Left four fucking kids."

Mom is pissed at the new treadmill, I think. Or maybe it was something else. "All this fucking bullshit."

RANDOM THOUGHT OF EVERY SO OFTEN

I think I may be starting to like dogs. I'm up to two. Not big dogs. Those be scary. But medium sized dogs I might like. I feel ... different.

PARTING SHOTS
Liam reads that a co-worker of the girl accusing Big Ben of rape says she was basically bragging about boning him the next day, which will hurt her case.

Liam: She's screwed now.
Bake: She was screwed then.

Sandy tells me I owe her an extra dollar for dinner.

Me: No.
Sandy: Give me a dollar or I'll cut your heart out.
Liam: I got a dollar to see that.

IT'S SOMETHING UNPREDICTABLE. BUT IN THE END ...

Bert and I went to see the greatest rock band in the world. No, not U2. Or anything else beside Green Day that you just said.

It was one of the greatest concerts I've ever attended, and at $25 a ticket, it was the best value for a concert maybe in this decade.

Man, those guys can put on a show. Eight people on the floor ended up participating in the concert on stage at various points. Three people each got to sing a verse of Longview. The second dude really got into the act, and the crowd loved him until he announced that he is from Alabama. Billie Joe: "Get your Alabama ass off my fucking stage."

For the 10th song, they performed The Saints are Coming. Before the show, I bet Bert at 25:1 that they would do that song. That sucker took it, and I made a $1. Yippy.

The first 10 songs were all from this decade. Billy Joe then asked if any old school fans were in the house to a rousing ovation, which led to 11 songs from the 90s. They even played a song from one of the first two albums before anybody knew who the hell they were.

There were two encores for the show. For the second one, Billie Joe came out and performed a combo of Wake Me Up When September Ends and Time of Your Life. Somehow, people left before the first encore. Does that fake ending of the show before the return really fool people?

For the 25th song (there were 27 total) during the first encore, the band revved up the nine-minute power rock song Jesus of Suburbia. Billy Joe asked the audience if anyone knew how to play the song on the guitar. He pulled a teenage girl up on stage who said she knew it and had been playing for eight years.

Billie Joe: You know how to play it?
Girl: Yes.
Billie: Swear to God?
Girl: Yes.
Billie: You betta not be fucking lying to me.

She wasn't. She rocked the shit out of the first five minutes before giving way to Billie. Also, sometime during the night, I think he saved an 8-year-old girl. Like a televangelist.

Coming Sunday: Friday night pictures.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER


My mom had some issues with the sun Friday. At 1:15 p.m.: "Fucking sun decides to come out now. All day I was in, out. In and out." A few hours later: "I'm ready for the fucking summer to end. I'm tired of this shit."

Mom is not happy about a Spice Girl become an Idol judge. "Are you fucking kidding me? She can't sing a fucking tune. If she's a judge, I ain't watchin' no more."

And the most shocking quote so far in 2009. Mom is telling me about the kung fu guy who accidentally hanged himself while doing something else. "Yeah. It's a big thing. Strangling yourself and cumming. I'm like, 'What the fuck?' I never heard of that. Then, I get Weeds. Fucking Doug does it on the show. After you blow your load, you let go of the rope. Fucking crazy."

RANDOM THOUGHT OF EVERY SO OFTEN

Why do so many people want to move out of my neighborhood? There are seven houses for sale on our street. Was it something I said? So, yeah, come move next to Tina and me.

A TOP LIST
The top five song performances from Green Day's historic performance.

5) Shout remix.
As a sort of intermission, they played Shout. "A little bit softer now." Then they all laid on the ground. They played Twist and Shout, Free Fallin' and I'll Be There before going back to "A little bit louder now." Didn't expect that, but it was really cool.

4) Jesus of Suburbia.
Nine minutes of ecstasy.

3) The Saints are Coming.
Billie Joe: "That was the first time since the Superdome that we've played that song. And we'll only play it for this fucking city!"

2) Boulevard of Broken Dreams.
He let us sing most of it. Awesome.

1) When I Come Around.
Still their best song. Place was rocking for that one.

UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL

Late in the shift Thursday night, I glance over at Liam's computer to seem him fidgeting with some Internet tool. He's looking at the houses on his street.

Me: How the heck you doing that?
Liam: Google maps. You don't know about this?

I didn't. Apparently, you type in an address on the map option on google, and bam! they show you a shot of it. You can zoom in and stuff. It's creepy and somehow not illegal.

Outside one of the homes we looked at, we saw an old lady in the garden. I was half-expecting Tina to be in our garden when I looked at our house. The shot shows our two cars (Honda and Jetta) in their parking spot. So it was taken within the past two years.

Can you say new stalking tool?

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom tells me that Ryan Seacrest signed a new American Idol contract. "Forty-five fucking million dollars."

Mom reads a story in the paper of a young boy dying while trying to cross Jefferson Highway on the street we lived on before moving to Harahan. "Yeah. He tried to cross over the fucking street."

I'm watching Conan. He has Sienna Miller on the program.
Me: Ma, you know who that is?
Mom: You think I don't know who the fuck Sienna Miller is?

We come back from running an errand. It was hot out. "Motherfuck!" Mom then looks at the thermostat, which is becoming her mortal enemy. "This motherfucker here."

ON THIS DATE IN GENE POOL HISTORY

2008: I compared a bunch of my peeps to Office characters. Lopes as Andy is looking much better for him a year later, now that Ed Helms is a super movie star.

PARTING SHOTS
D does his usual whistle and clap routine that he performs six times a night. We then solve a mystery.

Sandy: D, what is that?
D: It's the beginning of a song.
Sandy: A clap is the beginning of a song?
D: No. It's a drum beat.
Me: The whole time you've been doing a song? What song is it?
D: The Horse.
Sandy/Me: What is that?
Max: That's a Mardi Gras staple.

D is long in the tooth and slightly afraid of the new medium of communication.

D: If I hit the lotto while I'm here, I ain't blogging shit. I'll leave a note. 'Fuck ya'll. I ain't blogging.'