fat rooster

Thank Christ. The end is finally here. I am so glad to have the break on the horizon. I live for these days of no commitment. Not having to answer questions of "where do you find the time?" and instead "how the hell am I going to fill up 24 hours?" If laziness is wrong then I don’t want to be right. Free bitches

Handed out for free at restaurants and at concluded Santa Claus meetings, candy canes are a trademark of Christmas. But what candy is given away for free? Only the shittiest.

Here are the issues:

1.) It’s frail and generally breaks when you try to unwrap it.

2.) It owes all its recognition to the curve at the top of it.

         a. This curve confuses any normal tactics of eating as you try to find a way to wrap your tounge around a curve and continue    sucking

         b. The curve generally breaks first, effectively ruining any novelty whatsoever.

3.) Its the same boring flavor being licked for an average time of 28 minutes. You’ve heard of "flavor orgasm," the candy cane is the "awkward, walked in on your parents, sex drive killer" of food.

4.) As a child my sister and I, when called upon to finish the candy canes left over from the holidays (Leftover candy canes? Get the fuck out), my sister would lick her candy cane to a fine needle like point, and then proceed to poke areas on my face with it.

5.) When your tired of this candy cane and see the inches of cane in which you still have to finish you say, "Screw it" and bite into it. As you continue to chew it the candy cane compacts itself into every gap in your teeth. Subsequently causing your jaws to stick together with every upper and lower jaw contact. A mild form of lockjaw.

Yet, with all of these facts, the candy cane will never leave. You can imagine the frustration.

Dr. Dog

Opening for The Black Keys was Dr. Dog. Before the concert started I asked on of the guys selling T-shirts what to expect from this "Dr. Dog" character. He answered back, "Kinda like a Beatles sound but only more psychadellic." I bowed my head and curved my lips as an answer to his answer which meant "I like this….this is good." They came out on stage and the crowd, rattling with anticipation and a slight alcohol buzz, went moderately crazy. A long haired, multiply pierced, goatee sportin’ guy behind me shouted such things at them like, "Your my favorite band," and "I want to have your children." Dr. Dog was a five member band all of whom looked like they ransacked a homeless guys shopping cart for his clothes. Which I liked. They had a real good sound. It wasn’t anything to original, not to say that were a cover band by any means, but it was a familiar sound. The vocal responsibilities were almost evenly split between two men. One had a great loud voice. The veins in his neck would come alive as he belted out each note. His counterpart had more of a Neil Young sounding voice, which was an opinion not shared by the guy standing next to me after I stated such. Overall I’d give Dr. Dog a good review. I personally am going to seek out their new CD. Afterwards, at the t-shirt counter yet again, the band in all its entirity was waiting around signing their t-shirts if you shelled out an additional 10-spot. I declined. They were, however, seemingly very appreciative of the compliments I gave them. Which I liked. They still seemed to be relishing in the moment, taking every instance in and hoping for the shot to stardom. I hope they make it.

Dr. Dog

B

The Black Keys

The main event, the people coagulated, forming a thick inpenetrable wall around the stage. The moment was upon us, The Black Keys were there in front of us. Without uttering a word the first overpowering chord was ripped, reverberating off the walls. The sound waves pulsated and blended with the cheers of the crowd. They commanded the respect of their audience with one overpowering stroke of a guitar. The concert traveled along The Black Keys’ albums, dancing without pattern among them. They started with about 6-8 of what I’d call their "B" songs. Songs like: Busted, Girl is on My Mind, Stack Shot Billy, etc. As the end of the concert came near they played the songs most recogonized, like: 10 am Automatic, Set You Free, and Your Touch. The concert was great. The culmination of The Majestic Theatre’s and the two bands’ nostalgic qualities formed a perfect production.

The Black Keys

A

(In picture from left to right Kevin Towers (the one with the passionate dead-on sex stare), Dan O’Dowd (the curious, surprised look…like a "you want me to do what?" face) and Theo Epstein.

So it’s the Winter Meetings where all of baseball’s general managers (the guys in charge of trades and what not) get together to talk baseball biz. And, apparently, everyone remembered to keep up their duties on the phone chain and make sure everyone was wearing the same sweet ass tropical shirt. I lost a little manhood myself after seeing this.

African Storytelling… Why?

It’s not that I’m ignorant, I just, with every fiber of my being, do-not-care. And as horrible as that may sound, one’s threashold can only take so much when it comes to the moon being created by a crane’s shit or a woman weaving a giant basket so she can fly home in it. Hey that’s super, now please illustrate a line of work besides that of the tribal storyteller amongst the Zulu people that would prefer I knew of such things. I will tell you one thing, impressive or not, I’m going to be putting this on all and any job application I fill out from now on. If I can handle a class on, more or less, African fairytales I think I’m set for the future to possibly never be bored again.

The sad thing is, is that we as students are lectured and tested as if the foundation of our society depended on our retention of this knowledge. "Who did the ten headed ogre mirror in that story? God, why can’t I remember this? Oh right…. ‘cause I don’t care." Even my brain is like looking up at me from his LA-Z Boy, wearing a wife beater and boxer briefs, smoking a cigarette saying, "You want me to remember what? Oh dude…F**k that, no…no, I’m sorry but I’m not gonna retain that particular lil’ nugget of uselessness. But I can tell you who played 2nd base for the Giants in 2002? How many beers are left in the fridge and 87 free pornagraphic websites. But yeah other than that don’t…don’t bother me anym…." My brain passes out with his cigarette hanging from his lip and his beer spilling onto his stomach.

A man wiser than myself once said, "These college professors….teachin’ us like we give a shit." - Matt Hanson, a god among men…and a shy 4 year old among women.

So in light of this particularly negative outlook I can say this with confidence; somewhere in Stevens Point, Wisconsin, Matt Hanson is in class reciting the theme song to the Disney version of Robin Hood in his head after he thoroughly zoned himself out. So, Matt Hanson, a tribute to you.

The Chicago White Sox  (A look into the offseason plans)

First to establish some facts:

• The White Sox have a strong hand for this upcoming offseason with their abundance of starting pitchers. They have already, arguably, baseball’s deepest rotation with five pitchers capable of 200+ innings a season.
• They have a major bargaining chip in that of young arm Brandon McCarthy who may be traded or used to fill the vacancy of another traded starter (Mark Buehrle, Freddy Garcia). 
• The Sox have numerous prospect outfielders/infielders such as: Brian Anderson (1 year in MLB), Jerry Owens, Ryan Sweeney, and Josh Fields (perhaps the brightest of all the possible future stars in the White Sox organization), all of whom could be dealt if Kenny Williams (White Sox general manager) sees fit. 
• With the recent struggles of Scott Podsednik in the leadoff spot, posting a dismal .330 OBP (on-base percentage) and .261 BA (batting average), the Sox are in the market for a leadoff hitter. This may make the leftfielder Podsednik expendable, but it may mean the same fate for last year’s starting centerfielder Brian Anderson as well.
• Beyond the lead off spot’s apparent vacancy the Sox also faltered where they excelled last year, the bullpen. Last year’s World Series heros: Cliff Politte, Neal Cotts, Dustin Hermanson, and Bobby Jenks didn’t post an era (Earned Run Average) less than 4.00 for the season.

Possible Solutions:

Leadoff Spot - I expect to see the White Sox aggresively pursue a high quality lead off hitter. To do this, however, the Sox will have to part with a copius amount of talent. A name that has been circulating throughout the MLB is Carl Crawford. A burgeoning star who was compared to the likes of Ken Griffey Jr. early in his career. Although his stats from this past year are impressive, .305 BA, 18 HR, 77 RBI, 58 SB, and have been so throughout his young career, reaching the heights of Griffey seem unlikely. But due to the Devil Rays’ over abundance of prospects, particularly outfielders, and Tampa Bay’s willingness to deal this offseason saying, "I don’t believe any trade is out of the realm of possibility considering what the management has said" (Chastain), I foresee the White Sox dealing one of three pitchers, Garcia, Buehrle, or McCarthy and an outfielder prospect to the pitching starved Devil Rays for Crawford.  

Complaints:

Recently in an article posted on the White Sox webpage, Buehrle is under consideration of being dealt this offseason. This could be, if carried out, one of the dumbest moves the Sox have ever done. Buehrle is 26 year old. Typically, professional players hit their statistical peaks from ages 28 - 32. Already, in only 6 seasons of 20+ starts in major league baseball, Beuhrle has accumulated 93 wins. If one were to begin counting the win totals after 6 seasons of Randy Johnson, Tom Glavine, and Greg Maddux after their first 20+ games started season their totals would come out as Randy Johnson, 78 W’s (280 career wins), Tom Glavine 93 W’s (290 career wins), and Greg Maddux 93 W’s (333 career wins). Now, Mark Buehrle has a lot to prove before he truly belongs with the names of these future Hall of Famers, but, as of now, what more can he? He may never have the strikeout totals of a Randy Johnson, in fact I guarentee he will never, or the consecutive 15 game win seasons of a Maddux, but of all current pitchers Mark Buehrle does have a legit chance to exceed 200 career wins. With rumors running rampent that there may never be another 300 game winner in baseball, I feel that because of Buehrle’s Maddux-like approach to pitching as that of a "finesse pitcher," he may be one of few pitchers that can stand the workload of consecutive 12 - 15 win seasons as he steps closer to the milestone. Deal Buehrle and the Sox could be another team, like the Cubs, who wish they never gave away their 300 game winner.

Chulahoma, an album created as a dedication to the deceased David "Junior" Kimbraugh, was released this year by The Black Keys.

              "David "Junior" Kimbraugh was born in 1927 in Hudsonville, Mississippi. He worked at the John Deere dealership in Holly Springs for 18 years. On weekends he played guitar and ran "Junior’s," his club. Unfortunately, Junior died before Dan Auerbach (The Black Keys’ guitarist and vocalist) could make the journey. "Junior’s" burned to the ground, but his music and his 36 children are still thriving." 

Earlier in the liner notes Auerbach makes mention of his personal transfermation into the musician and perhaps individual that he is due to an album made by Kimbrough. It wasn’t soon after this transfermation that Auerbach dropped out of college and pursued his aspirations which have congealed into the band he now leads.

Chulahoma is perhaps the purist blues sound The Black Keys have ever released. This tribute to Kimbraugh is that not only to he himself, the original orchestrator of this music, but even more so to blues and even music’s enfluential nature. It is an incredible album and an audible historical experience to whomever its frequency reaches. Kimbraugh’s music is reverberated by The Black Keys with the unrefined quality it maintained when Kimbraugh himself recorded these songs. It’s blues in its most unaltered state. It’s gritty and hard and adament in its unyielding restoration of original blues sound.

AlbumRating: B+

Recommended Song: Meet Me in the City  

I don’t know the reasoning behind it but women never hold the door for me.

The scenerio generally plays out as one of the following:

Walking into a building, whether it be on campus or anywhere else in the world, I am no more than a few steps behind the girl entering the building. Now this is when a series of things can happen:

1.) The girl catches a glimpse of my reflection in the glass door, I call this the "Reflection Factor", and notices I’m behind her. Now, figuring that I’m unaware of this occurance she doesn’t give the standard "Blind Spot Glance" to see if she should extend her arm and prop the door for an extra .2 seconds. Thus, leaving me to fend for myself.

2.) The door, having no reflective glass gives the girl the oppurunity for the "Complete Guiltless Door Walk Through". This is when no reflection can be seen and no blind spot check is given. Therefore, as the trailing pedestrian and because of the glassless door, I do not exist.

3.) Yet, perhaps the worst door etiquette I have seen panned out like this: I was walking into College Library where all glass doors are present (Reflection Factor). The girl in front is facing straight and inevitably can see my reflection and that I’m only a few steps behind her. With the "Reflection Factor" in play, she still gives the "Blind Spot Glance". However, despite both the standard moves she cracks the door only so much so that her skinny no door holdin ass could get through. A blantant disregard for perhaps my dream of not having to hold the door at all, also called the "Straight Doorway Walk Through", the walk through in which, with no one behind you, you maneuver yourself in through the doorway making a conscience effort so that none of your limbs will be touched by the door. It’s one of the most beautiful maneuvers in doorway usage.