Anyone Remember Money Train?

So here I sit, watching Miami Vice, Friday night, 10pm. I'm reminiscing about debaucherous days, where shooting yourself in the head with a NERF gun made perfect sense. It's been almost 3 weeks since I last blogged. That has nothing to do with desire. In that 3 week span I've had plenty of things to blog about, but no time or no energy to do it. I planned on doing a column on the city of Atlanta, while I was there. No dice. In fact, I'm growing tired the longer I sit here and I keep thinking that this post is going the way of TDX in never actually getting to the point (or using the point as an excuse to write about life, then throw in a quick blurb at the end. Quick shot of Colin Farrell's moustache. Drink twice.

So, I hate to play the race card, but I'm throwing it out there. Watching Miami Vice, I can't help myself. The question I'm posing is this: historically who is the best on-screen white guy black guy duo? Right now I'm watching Colin Farrell and Jamie Foxx. Despite the fantastic facial hair sported by both the duo is not the greatest. I have just been reminded of DGD's obsession with Colin Farrell. Not so much his acting prowess, but moreso his nutsack, which DGD had to rewind to get a clear look at while watching Alexander. Immediately Miami Vice falls into last place. I guess technically they're currently in first and last place simultaneously. Next up from the bottom is Tyrese and Paul Walker in 2 Fast 2 Furious. Now ther eare terrible movies, and really terrible movies. These two movies are battling it out for each distinction. Ironically both take place in Miami. It is likely that nothing good comes out of Miami (with the exception of the 7th Floor Crew). I'm mostly amazed that they have not only a Wikipedia page as well as a myspace page. Here's another great article.

Moving on, as I'm losing steam, I'm going to put Woody Harrellson and Wesley Snipes in 3rd place. That's right I arbitrarily decided to make this a top 5, or perhaps it's really a bottom 5. White Men Can't Jump was a decent movie, although it was clear that neither of them could really dunk in real life, most of the shots weren't authentic, and the hoops were actually 7 1/2 feet rather than 10. And they were playing with women's size balls.

Mel Gibson and Danny Glover come in second. That partnership lasted for 4 movies. Not a bad run huh? Individually I really don't like either Danny Glover or Mel Gibson. In fact, I really dislike Mel. Actually, they're automatically relegated to last place on this list. Chuck Norris and that black guy in Walker Texas Ranger, but (1) that's not a movie and (2) it just doesn't count when one of the two is less than notable.

Samuel L. Jackson and Bruce Willis in Die Hard 3 and Denzel Washington with Ethan Hawke in Training Day, both good but not really a partnership.

I'm not going to lie, I've reached #1 and have no idea who to give the top spot. After careful consideration the award goes to Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones for the Men in Black movies. Do I think they deserve it? Absolutely not. Out of sheer laziness I'm going to end it here. If you're reading this and can think of one, even if it's questionable or not very good, post it in the comments section.

First Ever "What's Filling My Box?"

It's becoming readily apparent that, collectively, we (we being the editors of AoF) suck. As noted a thousand times, we're kinda lazy. Turns out that said laziness, coupled with billable hours, is kryptonite to our posting schedule. OK, perhaps that last statement wasn't entirely true in that only 2/3 of us actually are employed in the private legal sector. Those public sector attorneys (namely yours truly) are blessed with all sorts of spare time. For example, my day today only took place between the hours of 9:45 and 4:30, with an almost 2 hour lunch and about half an hour of assorted breaks scattered throughout. Needless to say, I'd be kind of a piece of shit to ignore AoF entirely. Really, only one thing keeps me from dropping endless nuggets of fact from high above, much like a condor after a spicy lunch would (I realize this is a metaphor better suited for The Upper Decker). I don't want to become the sole poster here because, let's face it, I'm probably a little too self-indulgent in that I largely post for my own whims and ignore the desires of You, the Reader (and by You, the Reader, I literally am referring to what is likely the one person left who reads this dreck).

Case in point of how this blog is gonna probably turn out is the post I'm currently turning in. As noted above, man, lack of time is not the issue. On the other hand, my mailbox is nearly full of nonsense that people send along and, quite frankly, I'd rather make some headway in emptying it rather than come up with original material. Without further ado, a new running column entitled, "What's Filling My Box?". For the first WFMB?, we're gonna have to take a look deep into my box, all the way back to stuff from October. (to answer your question in advance, no, I will never pass up the opportunity to poorly craft anatomical puns).

The first one is especially cheap since it was passed along by TW. So I guess, in a way, this is a cheap idea stolen from a fellow editor. I'm quite pleased with myself. It's the MySpace page for the CT Zombie Fest. It has your typical bullshit that a MySpace page has along with some twists. It's plastered with photos of, and crap written by, vapid and soulless creatures that likely roam the earth restlessly. The rest is about zombies. All I can say is that I'm sold. I'm in next year for ZombieFest. Aren't you glad I bothered to pass this along six months ago when it would have been useful?

If you thought that last item was lazy and pointless, wait until you get a load of this next one. It's one of many chain-type/general nonsense e-mails that my uncle regularly sends out. Honestly, some of my favorite e-mails are those that I get from a generation before us. Computers have been around long enough for them to understand how to use them, but they still feel obligated to pass along every single thing that ends up in their mailboxes (hmmmm, not unlike what I'm doing here). My uncle's emails have an even better twist to them in that he's from Alabama and, along with the usual support our troops, God Bless America, etc. type stuff that one would expect from a good ole Red State, he also sends out total nonsense sometimes. Case in point: This lovely picture to the right. It's purely space filler from my standpoint, but I'd be shocked if, next time I go to visit, he doesn't have the full poster sized version in his boathouse. Just bear in mind that this is a man who defines himself by the amount of Auburn stuff he possesses (he got a full write-up in the paper once about a huge cast-iron War Eagle statute that he has on the front lawn of his lake house) and refers to himself as "Lake Jim". Everyone needs family from Alabama.

FACT: Dinosaur Hunters Shape Annals of History

Truth be told here, its extremely difficult to write about anything other than the "Greatest Game Ever" this past Sunday. The aftermath has easily consumed every aspect of my life this past week It's singularly the greatest sports rooting achievement of my life. Achievement may not be the best word, but I think it's fairly appropriate here. I'm just pissed that I couldn't make it to the parade. Employment is not all its cracked up to be. Alas. With the advent of The Upper Decker, however, these sentiments are best reserved for a different forum. Before I move on to something non-sports related I have to point out that I'm currently watching some sweet DVRed World Arm Wrestling Championships that appear to have been taped at Mohegan Sun. These guys are nuts. They all have right arms that appear visibly larger than the left. It's really just a display of athleticism, replete with competitors truly at the apex of their game.

OK, moving on. It's pretty hard to keep this whole posting thing from devolving into me just breaking down whatever happened to occur in my life recently. It then becomes not much more than a diary, and that would be fairly presumptive of me to think that anyone actually wants to read that. Of course there's always the distinct possibility that there always involves some degree of presumption on my part whenever I write some of this nonsense and disseminate it out into the internet where its read by literally millions of people (or about a dozen, depending on your definition of literal).

All this being said, I'm about to briefly describe some of my day yesterday. I decided to take a break from the typical Saturday of drinking all day on the couch in contemplation of later going out that night and drinking at a more frenetic pace in a louder, darker environment. With this in mind I went the other way with the day and took a trip over to the American Museum of Natural History. It's not necessary for me to summarize the trip. That would be fairly shitty and lazy posting on my part. I only mention this because the dinosaur exhibits, always the greatest in the museum, stood out a little bit to me this trip. Some of the exhibits had been redone a little bit since the last time I was there, notably in the area of heavy focus on some of the actual paleontologists that did the exploration. Long story short, I'm fairly certain I'm gonna name my first born child after famed dinosaur hunter Barnum Brown. The exhibits actually referred to this man as the greatest dinosaur hunter of the twentieth century. The phrase spurs images of a wild-eyed bearded man chasing a herd of raptors while on horseback, armed only with a crossbow.

This fellow Barnum Brown is particularly notable since he's the guy who discovered the Tyrannosaurus Rex. If we're talking about the great men that shaped the course of history then Brown's gotta be right up there with Moses and Oscar Meyer, right? This guy's excavation tool of choice......dynamite. That's right, this Dinosaur Hunter said fuck that to being careful with millions of year old fossilized remains. I guess he just really believed in that mantra "Why put off for tomorrow what you can do today.....with dynamite." (Reader's note: I took a brief break in the creation of this paragraph in order to find topless photos of Jennifer Tilly. I dare you to find me a 49-year-old with a better rack than her. Amazing. Also, I feel Barnum Brown would have approved of this use of the internet).