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.