Friday Evening Fracas: Aloha, Mr. Hand

Honestly, I don't have a clue what it was that made my inner cerebral workings channel Jeff Spicoli. It just happened. It's Friday. The wife's havin' some girls over, and I can mentally telepath the drunken debauchery that's just around the corner. So, maybe it's the hall pass I've given myself for the evening. Maybe it has something to do with the giant weekend of laying on the couch that I'm envisioning. Maybe it's because when "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" came out, print journalism was a humongous wave from which us unofficial reporters of unofficial news wanted to hang 10. Whatever. At least there are many other things of importance on which to touch, or whom to touch, or -- eh, fuck it...

First and foremost, we should examine exactly how Denver Broncos Head Coach Mosh McDanahan wants to win this season by giving his opponents AIDS. Yeah. You read that right. Not "that dormant, Magic Johnson half-AIDS. I’m talking real Eazy-E AIDS. POWER AIDS." I know. Pretty jacked up. Read the details here.

Sometimes, when intelligence gets word of such ploys, that means it's time to stage an offensive. Or counter with a defensive. Either way, you've got to get some soldiers on the move. A solider like Lieutenant Winslow.

A few other soldiers have been in the news in recent weeks. They go by the names of Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin. Apparently, they don't like each other. Some folks, including Ovechkin, have repeatedly alleged that Crosby is a whining little bitch of a smack-talker, a cheap-shot artist. I'm not saying that. Folks are. Hell, even Rome did a bit on it on Monday. I couldn't tell you. What I can tell you is that the ability and talent of Ovechkin is pretty phenomenal. I mean,



get a turnover, round that corner at full steam, get knocked to your ass, and still score a goal. That's impressive.

InGameNow might argue that the opposite of impressive is shitty. They also might argue that shitty would be a good word to describe former Chicago Bears quarterback Rex Grossman. And then, they just might have 10 different examples of said shittiness.

You know what's shitty, though? I'll tell you: Two dudes that you really like talking about something that pisses you right the hell off. No, no. I'm not talking about Cecil and Old No. 7's weekly Bronkkake. Although that does irritate my most inner nerve. What I'm talking about is Ice Cube and Snoop Dogg -- even if it's just a simple mention -- discussing the notion of retiring Kobe Bryant's jersey now.



Dudes be trippin'. Really, though. I be trippin', too. Know why? The Iron Triangle knows a man doin' some cold, hard time. Like, a sliver more than a decade's worth. He recently wrote to me and asked me to send him some of our favorite posts since the day the House of Georges was coined. So we put our heads together, and came up with a few. Thing is, he'll miss out on all the great links. Both of these concepts should make it click with you that the man has been given zero Internet rights in prison. This, I assumed, was how it went across the board. Apparently, if you're a stand-up guy, a real community pillar, like say, Maurice Clarett, those rights are a bit broader.

And with that, I'll end with a sentiment that Seven has voiced before, and that is this: To anyone who ever thought it was a good idea to disable the "embed" function in a YouTube clip: Fuck off and die. Wait, what? You've got a good reason for doing so? No, really. Fuck off. And. Die. I wanted to end this post with this, and now I can't, you cheetoh-stained, shit dick.

Have a lovely weekend, y'all.