Rant Alert!

Not a day goes by lately where we don't hear about yet another company eliminating thousands of jobs. It makes me sad to hear this type of news. I can't help but see these cuts as nothing other than blatant hypocrisy. The man making millions a year gets a bonus he doesn't need for pushing a man barely getting by, out of work. Not just one, but thousands of people are now jobless, and for what? For a 10 cent increase in stock price. An increase that benefits those who don't need more money. I'm just so frustrated. How many millions of dollars do people need? I once heard it said that Michael Eisner (former CEO of Disney) made so much money that if there was anything less than a $100 bill on the ground it would not be worth his time to bend over and pick it up. That's ridiculous.

I'm also tired about social security being talked about in Congress. I may have even mentioned this before, but there is a cap on what a person pays into it. I say eliminate that cap. The people making millions a year stop paying social security after a couple months. The rest of the year, they don't pay a dime. Why is it always those who need it the most that are required to pay a larger percentage?

Ramble ramble.

Why does a person need another $100 million? What are you going to do with it? How can the world tolerate people like Paris Hilton whose sole accomplishment in life was starring in a home made sex tape? Yet it's people like this that are all over the news. The freaking news! If something happens to an attractive white woman it's all over the place. Everything else? Forget it. When I got to www.cnn.com and see items like Paris Hilton in the top news headlines it really bothers me. This isn't news. It's garbage. The so called news

Great Quote for Today

"I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that." - John Cusak in Say Anything

Moby Madden

I started this journey as a high school senior. The coach gave me one last inspirational speech before it was time to show what I could do. I went through several passing drills. Kicked ass on almost all of them.

I was offered scholarships at some of the biggest football schools in the nation. Tennessee, Michigan, etc... I turned them all down to attend the greatest college of all time. Michigan State University. I joined the school as a walk on and battled for the starting job my freshman year.
Freshman year:
I had a pretty good season throwing for 31 TD's to 12 Int's. My overall QB rating was 109.6 with 3661 yards passing on 310 attempts. I completed 153 of them for a completion percentage of 49.4. with an average of almost 24 yards per completion. Not outstanding, but good enough to make a BCS bowl game. No Heisman though.
Sophomore year:
Sophomore year is when I really started to catch the media's attention. That year I threw for 5054 yards with 77 touchdowns and 20 interceptions. This was on 387 attempts of which 191 were completed. That's an average of more than 26 yards per completion. Not bad. Not bad at all. I was the leading candidate in the Heisman race after an undefeated regular season. Alas it was not to be. I lost out to Iowa's QB. Now that was a bunch of crap, but I figured it was that another year 49.4% completions weren't impressing the Heisman folks. Final QB rating 113.3 which was better, but still not good enough.
Junior year:
My junior year. This was my year to bask in the media spotlight that was upon me. I did just that. I went through another undefeated regular season kicking ass and taking names. This year I went 205 for 331 for a completion percentage of 61.9%. Now we're talking! I passed for 4567 yards with 63 touchdowns to only 9 interceptions. While my yards per completion went down some to a little over 22 yards each, my rating was it's highest ever topping out at 134.0. On the eve of the Heisman announcement I was nervous. Would I win? Would I get snubbed again? Needless to say I steamrolled the competition. Mike Taylor has won his Heisman. He has captured his white whale and all was right in the world. The 2nd consecutive National Championship was almost anti-climatic.
Senior year:
This was a tough decision. Not just for Mike Taylor superstar MSU QB but also for Mike Taylor the guy behind the controller. I agonized over whether to bring me back to school or proceed to the glory of the pro stage. In the end, I entered the draft early. I felt like a traitor to my school, but there was no going back. I (the guy behind the controller) even had to rationalize the decision by telling myself that I (MSU QB) had graduated early with his degree. This helped, but to this day I still feel guilty about not going back for my senior year. I had my back to back national championships and Heisman trophy, what more had I to prove at the college level? I'm no Matt Leinart taking one class just to play another year of college ball and bang college girls. No, I had proved myself as a legitimate college superstar and it was time to move on.
The draft:
This was the big day. Draft day was approaching a light speed. Who would I go to? I want the Lions but alas it was not to be. I was drafted in second round by the Dallas Cowboys. My agent negotiated a two year contract worth $9.4 million of which $2.1 was granted as a signing bonus. I had arrived. My salary that year was $2.12 million with the remaining $5.18 for next year. Sold! I moved into my Dallas apartment that week. I even got a phone call from former Broncos running back Terrell Davis. Thanks TD!
Spring training:
This was no contest. Mike Taylor, young phenom from college, Heisman winner and National Champion against aging veteran Drew Bledsoe? He didn't have a chance.

An Epic of Storied Propotions

Bob couldn't believe his luck. Then he was hit by a bus.

"I don't understand," he said as the idea dawned on him.

"I can't swim," said the dandelion to the biscuit. To which the the biscuit replied "..." because biscuits can't talk.

Some say folk won't. Then again, some folk'll.

Sniff, sniff went the cat with it's nostrils flaring. Finally the brave beast ventured to take a bite of my tortilla chip.

Here is my forum to make my case. To state my cause unequivocally. To get my message to the masses. This is my opportunity to use all of my intelligence and persuasiveness to sway the world to my way of thinking. So without further ado, here it is:
G=L
J=F
J=G
so therefore J=L, G=F and for good measure F=L. Ponder this for a moment, then remember that you have clothes in the dryer. So go get them.

There is nothing sweeter in life than justice. I don't mean Judge Judy justice. I mean the guy who speeds past you after tailgating and giving you the finger who then is pulled over and glances out of his window at the exact moment that you are passing by and he sees you passing by and he knows. Oh yeah, he knows.

There is greatness in all of us you see. If by the term greatness you mean lymph nodes.

Snap! Crackle! Pop! Went the bones of the old woman as she stood up from the couch to venture into the kitchen for a diet Coke.

Click clack
Clickety clack
The railroad train goes along it's track
Where it's headed no one knows
But I hope it comes back soon
Because the conductor has got my nose

It's nearly 4:12, so I must be going. I bid you adieu.

Put Some English On It

What is "sort of"? It's nothing. It's a space filler and has no meaning whatsoever. There are times though when "sort of" takes on a life of it's own. When it changes everything just by it's presence. For example, "I love you..." or "You're going to live..."

Thank you to Demetri Martin for that.

Beverages

I have a song stuck in my head again. This time it's a tune by Chef from the cartoon South Park. And it goes:

Makin' love
Makin' love
Makin' la-la la-la love
Love gravy

I just bought a bottle of grapefruit juice out of the vending machine. I don't even like grapefruit juice. Well, when I'm actually eating a grapefruit, and there is juice in the bowl when I'm done. I'll drink that. That's tasty. Bottled grapefruit juice though? That's an entirely different animal. I looked at it and thought to myself "I don't like grapefruit juice." It's not terrible; I wouldn't spit it out. Not unless someone told me it was orange juice and then I took a big mouthful only it didn't taste like orange juice so before I could think anything else my brain would go "Not orange juice!" and I would spit it out reflexively. This happens even with beverages I like.

Take Dr. Pepper for example. I'm a big fan of this concoction. I also like Cherry 7-Up, but I digress. Actually, when you think about where I started, this digression is the least of the problems with this "story". So anyway, there's a glass of soda on the counter. I say, "Hey Derk, is this Coke?" To which Derk replies, "Yeah." So I go to take a drink and... you know, let's start this at the beginning.

Act 1
Stomach: I'm thirsty. Hey! Hey Brain! I said I'm thirsty!

Brain: Let me see... carry the one, almost there on the unified field theorem.

Stomach: HEY BRAIN! I'm thirsty NOW!!!

Brain: Ah! Crap, fine. Hey Eyes! Come in Eyes!

Eyes: Eyes here Brain.

Brain: Look for something to drink, stomach is thirsty

Eyes: Roger that Brain. Spotted beverage on counter slightly to the left.

Brain: Got it! Right Arm, grab that drink!

Right Arm: Drink procured.

Stomach: Give it here!

Brain: Wait! We don't know what this is. Nose, what does it smell like?

Nose: Hmm hard to say... maybe if Lungs didn't smoke so much...

Brain: Hey! Back off nose! You leave them alone, they've got enough to deal with. Ok, Nose doesn't know, Eyes can't tell. Hey Mouth, let's go.

Act 2
Mouth: Hey Derk, is this Coke?

Derk: (From the other room) Huh? Yeah!

Stomach: See, give it! Give it!

Brain: Fine, quiet already. Right Arm, Mouth? You know the drill.

Stomach: Give it! Give it!

Mouth: I don't know...

Brain: (Soothingly) Don't worry Mouth, it's Coke. We like Coke.

Mouth: Ah.... ah... AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! NOT COKE! MIGHT BE POISON! NOT COKE!

Brain: Abort! Abort! Spit it out, Mouth! Spit it out goddamit!!

Mouth: (Spit take)

Stomach: Where's my Coke?

Brain: Hold on, doing an analysis right now. Beep-boop! Beep! Hmm... according to my readouts... Mouth you idiot! That's not poison, that's Dr. Pepper. We like Dr. Pepper! What the hell is the matter with you?

Mouth: (Defensively) Hey, you said it was Coke. I had everything all set up for Coke. When I tasted not Coke, I wasn't sure what else you got wrong. Don't call me an idiot, Brain! You're the one listening to Derk.

Brain: Yeah?! Well... so. Ok. Let's try this again. Mouth! Set up for general carbonated soda pop. Arm! You know the drill. Let's take it slow people!

Literally

I hate it when people use the word literally incorrectly. Because when you get it wrong, you end up using it in exactly the opposite way from which it is intended. I can see a mix up between ultimate and penultimate, you're off by one. But literally is an entirely different animal.

It drives me crazy when I'm watching a football game and I hear the announcer say, "He literally ripped his head off!"

No he didn't.

"He literally exploded through the hole in that line!"

What?!

He exploded?

This guy should not have a job on tv describing things to people.

Or that conversation with your friends:

"Dude, last night we were so wasted, when Jim squirted milk through his eye, I literally shit my pants it was so funny"

Wow! What did you do then?

"With what?"

Your pants, what did you do with your pants?

"What do you mean?"

After you shit in them, what did you do?

"Dude, I didn't really shit my pants. I literally shit my pants."