Archive for the ‘changing the world’ Category

Hockey Orphan: HabsFan29 from Four Habs Fans on the Montreal Canadiens

April 7, 2009
Click on the logo above for all the Hockey Orphan entries

(Thanks to Four Habs Fans for their one of a kind Hockey Orphan entry. If you follow them, this will come as no surprise. If you’re not familiar, make sure you acquaint yourself with their unique take on the Montreal Canadiens. NOW.)

So you need a new hockey team, eh? You want to go where the CHampions are? You want to join up with the greatest and most successful franCHise in professional sports? You want to roll with us, bitCHes? Well I’ve got two words for you:

Fuck off.

We don’t need any more fans. The only reason we will permit you to be a Habs Fan is you come from one of the following places:

1. The Province of Quebec
2. Turku, Finland
3. Belarus

The rest of you can go root for Atlanta. I can’t get a ticket at the Bell Centre because there are already too many Fucking Habs fans. You think we want more? Fuck and no.

Have a nice day.

Undoubtedly the greatest hypothetical radio show in the history of man and ape

April 1, 2009

So, I’m reading “The Ticket: Full Disclosure,” a great little book about the great Dallas sports radio station, and I come across a stunning passage:

“Through all the uncertainty, however, Sturm was ecstatic. He could have shared a studio with a monkey and seven midgets and still been incredibly happy.”

What – what – what? And still been incredibly happy? This absurd notion made me consider a hypothetical show called “James, a monkey and seven midgets.” (clever title, eh?)

Ratings would be huge. Laughs would be even bigger. Not only would this show resurrect radio, but somehow, also add new life to the newspaper industry. There would be hard hitting “short guy on the wall” journalism, thoughtful critiques of the film “George of the Jungle” and people slipping on banana peels. Howard Stern would beg us to stop broadcasting. Oprah Winfrey would request that we change our time slot, as competing with midgets exposes her inner meanness. Hugh Downs would speak on our behalf at a Lifetime Achievement presentation and then pass away. His last words: “Finally. Peace.”

The only tense moment: when poo gets flung. The monkey would express his disgust at my display, accusing me of discriminating his species based on “unfair, (blanking) stereotypes.” What would then ensue would be a stare down intense enough to be on the cover of a Wrestlemania DVD. And right before I’d get my face ripped off hypothetically, the seven midgets would begin to dance. They would dance their midget dance while my simian friend and I make amends. And it would be good.

But, for the most part, I cannot really fathom the idea that I wouldn’t enjoy running a radio show with a monkey and a bunch of midgets. Everyone’s different, I guess.