I'm. You're. Idle

Bowl Data

RD — Fri, 13 Apr 2007 00:22:00 +0000

Note: You can also check this out on Lift While Climbing, which is run by some friends of mine.

A political candidate’s viability is often reduced to one simple but telling question: Would you want to have a beer with them? But sharing a few laffs over a pitcher of suds isn’t nearly as revealing as camping out in the rumpus room with a dimebag and a medium sausage lover’s. The real question should be: Would you want to get stoned with them? What follows are purely hypothetical stoner profiles of the leading 2008 presidential candidates:

THE DEMOCRATS

Hilary

- Preferred Paraphernalia – a glass pipe (name: Toots McSmokealot) purchased during her freshman year at Wellesley.

- Stoned Song – Journey, “Don’t Stop Believing.” Rated America’s #1 favorite song in a recent Gallup poll; confirmed by Hillary 2008 focus groups.

- Marijuana Movie – “Pretty Woman.” Because she’s still a hopeless romantic at heart.

- Munchies, man! – a 32 oz. porterhouse, very rare.

- Baked Babble – “Bill inhaled. I inhaled. Fucking Nixon inhaled. It was the seventies, for chrissake. Give me a break.”

- Dope Demeanor – Paranoid. Very paranoid.

Barack

- Preferred Paraphernalia – Cocaine blunts.

- Stoned Song – Rod Stewart, “Maggie May.” You’d think this would hurt his credibility within the black community, but in fact a large number of African American’s really love Rod the Mod. It’s just one of those weird things.

- Marijuana Movie – “Soul Plane,” allegedly. But he could just be overcompensating for the Rod Stewart thing. In his defense, it’s actually kind of a funny movie.

- Munchies, man! – Half a pack of Nicorette.

- Baked Babble – “Which is a weirder presidential name: Barack Hussein Obama or Millard Fillmore? Tough one, right?”

- Dope Deamanor – Cool as fuck. Homeboy makes Snoop look like Screech.

John E.

- Preferred Paraphernalia – a simple, workingman’s joint. Preferably smoked in the company of the family dog behind the toolshed.

- Stoned Song – Alan McGraw. Garth Tritt. Waylon Urban. Bruce Mellencamp. This is his country, damnit.

- Marijuana Movie – “Wild Hogs.” Anything with Tim Allen, really. John Edwards is one of you, America!

- Munchies, man! – Hominy. It simply doesn’t get more Red State than J-ward!

- Baked Babble – “I pay my Botox guy more than I pay my top consultant. A lot more.”

- Dope Demeanor – Very smiley. It’s kind of creepy.

THE REPUBLICANS

Rudy

- Preferred Paraphernalia – one of those metal cigarettes that’s actually a pipe. Because he’s sneaky!

- Stoned Songbook – Dean Martin. The original slick Italian. Ol’ Dino was like parmesan-encrusted catnip to impressionable legal secretaries back in the Attorney General days.

- Marijuana Movie – Previews of the Giuliani biopic commissioned by his campaign. Coming soon to a theater near you – “Did I Mention 9/11? The Rudy Giuliani Story,” directed by Jerry Bruckheimer.

- Munchies, man! – Judith Nathan

- Baked Babble – “You know what’s crazy? Ice cubes, man. They’re like these little, perfect squares of coldness, and we totally take them for granted. You know what else is crazy? That a pro-abortion, pro-gun control, pro-civil union New Yorker might win the South Carolina primary. That’s fucking crazy.”

- Dope Demeanor –Kind of jumpy. Constantly killing your buzz with inappropriate comments you try to forget.

Mitt

- Preferred Paraphernalia – a Coke can. Because if he’s going to indulge in the forbidden herb, why not make it a twofer and score some caffeine?

- Stoned Songbook – the Carpenter’s Christmas album. It reminds him of family, and Mitt Romney is all about family. But only wife. Don’t get it twisted.

- Marijuana Movie – “An Inconvenient Truth.” He was the governor of Massachusetts, alright?

- Munchies, man! – Pickles.

- Baked Babble – “Yeah, Mormons take a lot of shit, and some of the stuff we do is a little nutty, granted. But have you ever taken a close look at the Pope? Homeboy is walking around with a fucking sceptor. Why doesn’t anyone ask Rudy what that’s all about?

- Dope Demeanor – Pompously earnest. Earpous.

John McC.

- Preferred Paraphernalia – perfectly rolled joints of legal, medicinal marijuana. He can’t walk without them. Bad hip.

- Stoned Songbook – Cher, “Do You Believe in Life After Love?” His wife, Cindy, listens to it every morning during her nude step aerobics workout. She keeps him young, and he loves her for it.

- Marijuana Movie – “Apocalypse Now – The Director’s Cut.” And not necessarily because of Nam - it’s just a badass movie.

- Munchies, man! – Centrum Silver.

- Baked Babble – “You know who sucks? Pat Robertson. I meant it the first time. And you can fucking go to Wolf Blitzer with that – I don’t give a shit anymore.”

- Dope Demeanor – Tired, a little cranky, but oddly endearing.

A-Wood is Now Posting @ . . .

A-Wood — Sun, 28 Jan 2007 20:53:00 +0000

The Woodsonian National Institute.

For real this time.

iraq at the movies... awesome!

John Milton — Wed, 17 Jan 2007 22:01:00 +0000

While film audiences had to wait almost a decade for the Vietnam War to be dissected on the silver screen, today’s fast paced information era almost demands for Iraq to be tackled in the cinema as quickly as Bush decided to invade it. A pair of feature films released over the next few weeks will bring us to the brink of the Iraq War, both at home and abroad, and offer glimpses as honest as any news broadcast. In Irwin Winkler’s Home of the Brave, the director crafts crisscrossing tales of four soldiers and their struggles in life after combat, while Phillip Haas’ The Situation opts for a more tense scrutiny of the shifting allegiances that are muddling the war effort and any chance of solution in the near future. Winkler’s film is an obvious a pro-soldier campaign meant to highlight the injustices done to the men and women of uniform, whose noble sacrifices are too often forgotten once home. Its heart is in the right place, but at time the films comes off as forced and would have benefited from singling in on one or two of its characters rather than trying to drape a plot over a vast cross section of the country. On the other hand, Haas’ film, drawn from the script of real life Iraq war journalist Wendell Steavenson , displays pinpoint accuracies on the strategies and interests at every angle in Iraq but falls short when it tries to develop an emotional arcs to tie it all together. In lieu of these intermittent flaws both films provide a clear view of how Iraq is changing our culture, and might just be the shot needed to get through to those anesthetized by today’s homogenous news reports.

Home of the Brave opens in the battlefields of Iraq, but is more concerned with the psychological scars that a battle carries than the tense action of urban warfare. After their platoon is ambushed and they suffer varying degrees of loss, Dr. Will Marsh (Samuel L. Jackson), Vanessa Price (Jessica Biel), Jamal Aiken (Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson), and Tommy Yates (Brian Presely) all return to their own struggles at homes in Spokane, Washington. Unfortunately, Biel is no more believable as an amputee gym instructor as she is a flaxen haired soldier. But when she laments that her inabilities to adjust are only met with longer lists of drug prescriptions there is a note of truth, and its these moments where the film succeeds best. Both Jacksons’ stories seem tired as the older one channels his anger towards the bottle, and the younger rapper-turned thespian simply turns his towards inexpressive mumblings. Their resolutions, one bitter and the other sweet, can be seen coming a long way off and neither are given much room to ventures past their one note characters. Lastly, it is Presely’s attempts to find acceptance back home that are the most angst ridden and heartfelt. Bouncing around dead end jobs, he must defend himself from a father who won’t or can’t understand his feelings of guilt, and strains to justify the U.S. mission to his dead comrade’s girlfriend (Christina Ricci).

wow, even Jessica Biel knows that war is hell

In his final narration, there is a clear glimpse of the mentality that propels soldier towards harm’s way again and again. At times Home of the Brave may be too sappy, and some of its well worn clichés are just pale imitations of those in Deer Hunter, it is at least a film for a new generation of war veterans. At a time when awareness is just as paramount, if not much more expected, it is a welcome dose of reality and its timely release hopefully represents a changing tide in acceptance and confrontation of the unseen wounds of war.

someone get these motherf$%*ing insurgents out this motherf#@&ing country

Much less pro-American, but no less accurate, The Situation offers a disturbing look at why the troubles in Iraq may only be growing worse. At the center of the story lays an American journalist (Connie Nielsen), and her relationships with a U.S. intelligence officer (Damien Lewis) and an Iraqi photographer (Mido Hamada). But the love triangle here is underdeveloped, too often deterring from the half dozen other story lines of personal loyalties that boil over between Americans, insurgents, police, civilians, diplomats and journalists.

better, and done by all time anti-bush man O. Stone

The film begins with an American patrol tossing a pair of boys over a bridge, killing one and inciting more ire from the locals. Not far away, an insurgent leader promises revenge, while hiding out from the American supported police force, which it turns its little more than a band of thugs operating along old tribal feuds. Haas cleverly reveals each party guilty of their own cold-blooded murders, and his tale is one with no clear cut answer, and his sympathies lie mostly with those who are not given the luxury of choosing sides or documenting them, but must simply duck at the signs of danger. Despite his journalist themes baring striking similarities to those of Oliver Stone’s El Salvador, Haas has still made a tense and unique film. He places most of the violence at the periphery of his characters’ lives in a chilling effect that submerges the audience in the perils an unclear war, and leaves little time for judgments. Towards the end of the film as the different paths of his characters begin to collide, one surmises the problems of Iraq succinctly, “There are no bad guys and there are no good guys. It’s not gray, either. It’s just that the truth shifts according to each person you talk to.”

Thankfully, both films are not content with the head shaking lamentations of past generations and signal a new direction towards addressing today’s conflicts as they are unfolding. While this bold move will no doubt further polarize the issues, it takes away excuses of ignorance and moves away from hapless regret. Rather, both Winkler and Haas want to push us further into a discourse that may possibly consider a solution in time.

Awww, poop. Budget cut backs only provide round trip airfare for dead soldiers... that's bootleg

Free Drama & Cannon!

A-Wood — Wed, 17 Jan 2007 19:28:00 +0000

This is truly some bullshit.

On the other hand, it's nice to see that a major city like Atlanta has so little crime that they can rent out their police force to the RIAA (a private organization btw) so they can arrest a couple mixtape DJs and destroy 81,000 CDs.

Welcome!!

A-Wood — Thu, 11 Jan 2007 19:46:00 +0000

Greg Oden: Certified Baller

A-Wood — Wed, 10 Jan 2007 04:08:00 +0000

For those that don't know (?), Greg Oden is the 7-foot freshman center out of Ohio State. Basically, if Stern hadn't instituted the age limit, last year's draft would've been known as the Greg Oden Sweepstakes.

I'm not sure I'm a fan of the age limit, but I'm kind of glad to see big homie ball it up in college. It's not only that he's the biggest guy on the court, but he has a real presence out there. Everyone involved with the game, from the players to the coaches to the announcers to the fans, know where he is on the court at all times.

And it's not only that he looks like he's 45 years-old,

but he has a real gravity out there. Everything he does, matters.

Greg Oden is about something.

It seems like he could walk right off the court and read Russian novels and eat beluga caviar or something. I don't say this too often, but I think he could even pull off a top hat and/or monocle. Maybe with nice white gloves.

In other words, I expect great things.

R.I.P. Noodle Man

RD — Tue, 09 Jan 2007 21:50:00 +0000

In honor of the death of Momofuku Ando, I'm posting a recipe I recently submitted to a workplace cookbook.

Top Ramen: A Primer

Let’s get one thing straight – this is not a joke. I’ve been eating and cooking Top Ramen ever since my molars came in, and by the time I graduated from college my mastery of the noodle arts was recognized in dormitories far and wide. A breakdown:

Flavor: When I was young and my tastebuds hadn’t yet developed, it was Beef or nothing. A teenage flirtation with vegetarianism necessitated a switch to Oriental, although I later learned that every flavor contains animal stock. The time I spent with both of these flavors was special, but I couldn’t shake the haunting sense that something was missing. It all came together by chance – I was ravenously hungry, and the only flavor left in the house was Chicken, my younger sister’s favorite. Swallowing my pride, I decided to give the strange yellow powder a shot. The rest is history.

Water: Two cups, and not a drop more or less.

Cooking Time: It’s hard to fault a company that has provided me with so much happiness at such a small price, but I simply cannot understand why Nissin Foods instructs their loyal customers to boil the noodles for a paltry three minutes. Listen, and listen closely: boil the noodles until almost all of the water has evaporated. I don’t care whether it takes five minutes or two hours. Remember, young grasshopper, patience is a virtue.

Supplemental ingredients: You can’t take it to the next level until mastering this aspect of the ramen game. The key is knowing your limits.

Beginner: Onions. Throw ‘em in with the noodles and forget about it.

Intermediate: Mushrooms and green onions. Add them too early and you end up with mushy mushrooms and brown green onions. Add them too late and your soup becomes a dysfunctional salad.

Advanced: Egg. The coup de grace. To be added ever so gently in the final minute of cooking.

Don’t even get me started on grilled cheese.

The Fourth Annual Thug Awards (aka the HoTties)

A-Wood — Fri, 29 Dec 2006 17:04:00 +0000

Four years. I have been blogging longer than anybody on the damn planet. Somebody please pay me.

Anyway, let's get right to it:

Jerry Sloan Award: Jerry Sloan
Runner-up: Isiah Thomas

Last year, it was kind of a stretch to give it to him. But this go-round, his team is right up there near the top out West. Even more notably, Sloan has changed with the times. The NBA has gone small and wacky, so Jerry is running his boys like they're on truck-stop meth and he's rolling with a dude from West Virginia with a backyard tattoo on his arm and a frontcourt littered with fauxhawked Euros.

Plus, he just won his 1000th game. And he's the longest-tenured coach in American pro sports. Good stuff, Sloan. Good stuff.

Team of the Year: New York Knicks
Runner-up: Cincinnati "8 out of 53 Players Have Been Arrested This Year" Bengals

You really can't ask for more from a team. I hope and pray someone is writing a book or filming these dudes. I have never been more fascinated with any group of people, I don't think. I mean, Isiah Thomas should probably be in jail and he's being allowed to run one of the most popular and recognizable organizations in the world of pro sports. What kind of world are we living in that allows this? David Stern must be getting high because if he really wanted to he could have Zeke, Dolan and Marbury demoted to the Slovakian league or some shit and nobody would even complain. Even the Player's Union would just kind of shrug it off. As I said in my season previews, I can't offer any speculations on what may happen to this franchise. I only know it will be spectacular. Thanks for the memories, 'bockers!

Baller of the Year: Kobe Bryant
Runner-up: LeBron James

I know he's not in the headlines like he once was, but let's not forget that this year began with the baller formerly known as KB8 dropping 81 on the hapless Raptors. He also had the highest scoring average since Jordan at over 35 per, he nearly willed his overachieving squad to the Western Conference Finals and this year he's got them comfortably in playoff position, while working himself back into shape. Yes, there was that perplexing half against Phoenix when he appeared to ease off of his Mamba steez, but if Phil can forgive him, I'm sure the rest of us can too, right?

Until LeBron stops biting his fingernails and taking nights off, Kobe's the best basketball player in the universe.

On to the Hip-Hop Awards:

Line of the Year: "Ya’ll respect the one who got shot, I respect the shooter" - Jay-Z
Runner-up: "And I'm sorry to the fans but them crackers weren't playing fair -- Jive" - Pusha T

Jigga didn't even try to rhyme this line. He just goes right out and says, "50-Cent's a snitch and snitches deserve to get shot." On a Dre track, no less.

Verse of the Year (tie): Lil' Wayne's verse on "Hollywood Divorce"/Andre 3000's verse on the "Walk it Out" remix

Through the haze of one of the most drug-addledly prolific years in hip-hop history (not to mention the most disappointing album of the year), Wayne pauses and takes a look at what's really going on in his life and this world. And it's so fucking sad that he nearly divorces Baby right there in front of us. Andre's verse is the flip-side to that, in a wacky Southern hip-hop way. Still, the one of the best rappers in the game, he's teasing us with this. He doesn't think we're ready for the angry Dre to tell us what's really on his mind for an hours-worth of music and he's probably right. So he just sabotages some asshole's club record and and plays an undertaker in a major studio Prohibition-era musical. Sounds about right.

Song/Video of the Year: "We Fly High" - Jim Jones
Runner-up: "Mr. Me Too" - Clipse

You may not like it, I may not like it, but my gut is telling me that this is the Song of the Year. And it really doesn't have that much to do with Jim Jones, even. This track was just ubiquitous. It was originally released in the spring, I think, and its profile just kept growing and growing. First it was the summer anthem of the NYC. Then it was the foundation for Jay-Z's first dis track in years. Then it was remade into a Jay-Z dis track. Then this video was put out and everyone went nuts for it all over again. I'm not condoning this type of thing, but they really are playing with an absolutely amazing amount of money in that clip. I urge you to check it out. Jim Jones will be shouting "BALLLLIIIIIIINNNNNNN!!!" for the next three decades. This song is an industry unto itself. (note: I'd love to put "Black Republican" up there, but I get the feeling that Nas, himself, doesn't even like the track. No video?)

Album of the Year: Clipse - Hell Hath No Fury
Runner-up (tie): Lil' Wayne and DJ Drama - Dedication 2/Ghostface Killah - Fishscale

Finally. An album with one sound, one artistic vision, one producer and absolutely no filler. It was almost worth the wait. Pusha T and Malice have Pharrell at their disposal and don't even try to put any hits on this record. The only "club" song on it disses their record company and sounds like a factory conveyor belt. The only other music I can really compare this to is the deep, dark, paranoid drum n' bass coming out of the U.K. in the mid to late 90s. Its hardcore shit, but there are sounds layered above the chaos and frenetic drumbeats that make it strangely beautiful. Tracks like "Ride Around Shinin'," "Keys Open Doors" and "New World" are probably what Nas had in mind when he thought up "Hip-Hop is Dead." This music embodies a different spirit, altogether. It's not party music, socially conscious or even boastful in the least. It's music to listen to while you wait for the apocalypse.

Producer of the Year: Pharrell
Runner-up: Timbaland

In a down year for producers, homeboy put out two albums that each sounded like nothing else out there. Sadly, though, he may just be too weird for the current hip-hop establishment. He's Slick Rick without the jail sentence, so his "I'm the shit" moments are written off as flamboyant and excessive. Still, though, his influence is felt everywhere. He basically invented Snap music four years ago and now no-talent assclowns by the dozens are making their name off of it. Meanwhile, Skateboard P isn't even worrying about cashing in on his trend. He's hopping off planes with Puff, laughing. He's years ahead of 98% of the current hip-hop beatmakers out there. Too bad that the current cutthroat, disposable marketplace won't ever be able to catch up to "In My Mind." There are some true heatrocks on there.

Rapper of the Year: Lil' Wayne
Runner-up: Ghostface

Weezy had the best year of any rapper since Jay-Z in 2003. And he might have even blown Hov out of the water. Wayne starts off the year with the extremely listenable Carter 2. Puts out two incredible mixtapes, Dedication 2 and Lil Weezyana. Gets arrested for weed and pills. Drops guest-verses all over the damn place. Releases Like Father, Like Son seemingly out of thin air. Drops the most politically charged track of the year, "Georgia Bush," almost by accident. He was so good this year that he gets caught in a lie about his age and a picture surfaces of him mouth-kissing his "Daddy" and the entire hip-hop community decides to give him a pass. Is he the Greatest Rapper Alive? It's no contest at this point.

Thug of the Year: Sasha Baron Cohen
Runner(s)-up: Al Gore, Alexander Litvinenko, Gianluigi Buffon/Fabio Cannavero, Lil' Wayne, Kobe Bryant, Vince Young, Zinedine Zidane, Hugo Chavez

As I look back on the 2K6, the one word that really comes to mind is default. Yes, music was better this year than last and Americans finally have begun to realize that the mafia running this country is only out for themselves, but for the most part, it seemed like everyone was kind of waiting around. For what, I don't know. But not too many people were taking chances and going for the gusto, as Raekwon might say. For proof look no further than Time magazine's person of the year. You. What the fuck? This world is sliding further and further into disrepair and the best they could come up with was fucking YouTube? It may already be too late.

That's just a long-winded way of saying, in a year of staggering mediocrity, Sasha Baron Cohen was a lone beacon of light. With assists from a disgustingly fat Eastern European dude, a town of pissed Romanians, and Pam Anderson, Cohen put a mirror up to America and, once you get past the naked man-wrestling and gypsy jokes, the results were incredibly depressing and sometimes scary. Still, Cohen trudged through the country with seemingly no fear. Sure, he had the monetary backing of a major media conglomerate, but he was on his own, living as Borat and going places and doing things that maybe nobody else in the world would have the courage to even think up. And he knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what the effect would be. It took an Orthodox Jewish comic from Britain playing a anti-Semitic journalist from Kazahkstan to step up and tell us how disgusting our society is. But at least somebody stepped up.

And he's banging this lovely lady:

Let's stop snitching in the 2K7. Aight?

Peace.

R.I.P. James Brown

A-Wood — Mon, 25 Dec 2006 15:36:00 +0000

A Year in Review (abridged ed.)

John Milton — Sat, 16 Dec 2006 21:48:00 +0000

For all of those self-agrondizing schmucks miring in a pile of their putrid victories of verbose verbatim, and filled with hope of the coming new year with the reconoidering of their own liberalist guilt, I offer only sage advice that we are indeed not on the precipice of great change, forthright thinking or even bluer skies...

A Democratic victory would not change the world, but it would at least slow the berserk white-trash momentum of the bombs-and-Jesus crowd. Those people have had their way long enough. Not even the book of Revelations threatens a plague of vengeful yahoos. We all need a rest from this pomgrom. - HST 9/1/86

In fact it's really just business as usual and I suggest y'all just marinate on that for a minute (right Andre?)

Who knew that Motley Crue had such breadth and scope in their influences, and in the 90s no less

in this world, the bad guys can win

R.I.P. Ahmet Ertegun

A-Wood — Fri, 15 Dec 2006 18:43:00 +0000

Read up, fools.

news flash hip hop is dead?

John Milton — Fri, 15 Dec 2006 16:40:00 +0000

VS

or is it?

well maybe...

then again it's all a matter of opinion

so decide for yo'self

and holla back...

Please Make a Jungle Remix of "Hell Hath No Fury"

A-Wood — Thu, 14 Dec 2006 21:32:00 +0000

The album is just begging for it. And I don't have the technical know-how.

Holla.

So that's what its used for?

mrRed — Wed, 13 Dec 2006 16:02:00 +0000

Quick Poll

m.j.s. — Tue, 12 Dec 2006 04:13:00 +0000

Settle the debate over what you would name your kid:

(a) Plaxico Burress

(b) D'Brickashaw Ferguson

Tallyin the comments. Thanks.