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600 is Cool aka Consecutive Executive Brewer Action

Wednesday, September 8th, 2010

I’m about to double you up on some BaseBallBloggin, because Co-Host is the fucking salt of the earth and offered me some Brew Crew ticket action. Broder txtd me up about noonish and says he’s got some businessman seats, if I want to fill one of them.

“Hmmm,” I thought as I stared into the jar of mayonnaise, still sweating booze from the Brew Crew encounter the previous day, “It will be best if I attend this sporting event with you.”

Had I known what kind of evening it was going to be I would have brought a real camera, but I never really count on Brewer’s games being exciting anymore.

So evening comes around and I fire up the Silver Spurt, pick up co-host and should have immediately stopped for Chinese, parking lot food. Instead I found myself eating some crap sandwich from Health Code Violation Central in Walker’s Point.  I’d never previously considered it, but I can now safely say I don’t care to have my food prepared or served to me by a 16-year old in a tube top (yes, a tube top), leggings, and Goosefeather’s flip-flops.

To each their own I guess. Also the “Secret Sauce” at that other sandwich place is just Italian dressing. Yup.

Then Silver Spurt got stuck behind a train. It was a long one too. With only one good piece of graffiti. It was two whole cars. And on the first car in small letters it said, “all you see is..” and then you know. Big, big, you know some block silver lettersthat said “..crime in the city’ right”

Actually it said, “impeach.”

We eventual landed in the Yount lot, drank our beers fast like college kids, and headed into the game. Macha got tossed, the Cardinals pitching coach got tossed, Dickerson (not Eric) got tossed, some dude in the stands got tossed by the ump. It was bizarro. Then At some point it dawned on Co-Host that the Cerveceros were prepping the game to bring Trevor “Heck’s Becks” Hoffman in for his 600th save. MF, this game just turned legendary.

Then it happened, top of the ninth and old 51 comes rolling out. Saves the game and his banner drops. 600. Rad.

I think it’s important to note that we got complimentary jewelry cleaning rags from Robert Hack diamonds. Word to the wise: Don’t buy diamonds from a dude named Robert Hack. Also never get your car worked on by Jamie Brakefailure.

PSA: If you’re interested in buying advertising space in Miller Park the space where that countdown to 600 was just opened up. Perhaps we’ll see a Rumorator.com logo up there next year.

After the game we celebrated, like proper gentlemen, in the parking lot.

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Posted in A Very Special Rumorator, Milwaukee Radification Project. | 1 Comment »

Shut Your Summer Mouth

Tuesday, September 7th, 2010

In case you missed it summer’s done. No more kicking it in the hammock, No more beach vollyball with girls in bikinis. No more going out dressed all in white and wearing flip-flops like a frat boy. I’m talking to you Goosefeather!

So, yeah summer is over. Winter is coming. Time to shift into shrad mode. But in case you’re lagging, here are 25 simple steps to close out your summer the right way, with 70 other people.

Step 1: Wake up late. Weigh your options and decide not to shower.
Step 2: Think to yourself,  “I can’t believe I have to pack the 3L shell for today. Weather. Wisconsin. Whatever.”
Step 3: Drive the Silver Spurt to the suburbs to pick up History Channel. Curse the suburbs the entire time. Remind him that the suburbs are garbage when he gets in the vehicle.
Step 4: Get coffee at Starbucks, because in the suburbs you’re only other option is Caribou Coffee, which is less like coffee and more like dessert in a cup. That crap is for single moms and Olive Garden diners. I don’t drink that. Specify to the dude at the GhostRide-thru, “3 ice cubes MFer.”
Step 5: Promptly spill coffee on yourself.
Step 6: Arrive at Miller Park. Make a joke to the parking lot attendant about today being “free day” because apparently you’re like 65. Let him respond, “Is anything free today?” Let History channel reply “Love,” like a damn hippie. 5 minutes later realize the correct response would have been, “Well I know it’s not free, but I heard a ride on your daughter is pretty cheap.” Consider leaving the lot just to drive in again and toss that line at the attendant.”
Step 7: Join the MODA3 crew under a tent and think about what a great day it is.


Step 8: Have breakfast of chips and guacamole.
Step 8.5: Take note of Keef Love in full winter garb—beanie, AK,  transceiver and backcountry pack loaded with approximately zero (0) drinks.
Step 9: Finish coffee.
Step 10: Make a mimosa.
Step 11: Be fucking blown away when you see N8ziller arrive in this shirt:


Step 12: Eat meat #1
Step 13: Spend the next 3 hours laughing at N8ziller and Why B because they’re wicked funny.


Step 14: Take note that Keef Love is now in a white v-neck tee. Beanie still on.
Step 14.5: Meat 2.0
Step 15: Get into the baseball game by the third inning and immediately lose History Channel.
Step 16: Show your thanks to Keylo, for organizing the whole day, by putting shit on his hat.


Step 17: Find out that Keef Love got some “Too-good-to-sit-with-the-plebians, fancy” seats. Sense he is changing clothes again. It’s like a disturbance in the force.
Step 17.5: Regret not showering
Step 18: Get bored watching the Brewers’ pitching give away another game and start building a smiley face of peanut shells on Ray’s back.


Step 19: Leave the game after the eighth inning because the Brewers have left you with only one thing to say, “At least we’re not the Cubs”
Step 20: Back to the parking lot and find out History Channel joined Keef Love in the fancy seats, but since he didn’t have a ticket he let Bluetooth sit on his lap. Or maybe he sat on hers. Not sure on that one, but the main thing to note here: Bluetooth.

Step 20.5 Keef costume change #4
Step 21: Meat #3
Step 22: Meat #4
Step 23: Serve a hot dog to a lady from Alaska. Almost get run over by her.
Step 23.5: Get the shake down from Jake.
Step 24: “Oh, What up Dip Lips”
Step 24.5: Now Keef isn’t even wearing a shirt.
Step 25: Finally find out how to “Dougie.”

Winter is coming.

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Posted in A Very Special Rumorator | 4 Comments »

Preseason is over

Friday, August 20th, 2010

And this is how it’s going to be for a while now:

Heisted from @spigumus

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Can. Not. Wait.

Wednesday, August 4th, 2010

This shit better be good.

Then they need to do a strong film version of Kafka on The Shore.

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Like the Salmon of Capistrano

Wednesday, July 21st, 2010

I can’t believe a year has already passed since we last had to face this shit. None the less, it’s back. And there is even more  mind-blowing counting-to-potato then ever.

Let’s watch:

Now we’re going to go through this one together. Remember to turn the page when you hear the magic magnet chime.

  1. “Magic in the air. Comradery (camaraderie?), family, love”–C’mon really. This is how you follow up calling magnets miracles? Fuck, boss. I’ve been to music festivals and they always suck 4 hours into them, after you see your high school art teacher drunk and fighting kids younger than you in “the pit.” jocko/juggalo. Same mentality.
  2. You’ll meet people from everywhere which includes Minnesota, Connecticut, and Nova Scotia? Sounds like there are going to be a lot of white folks there.
  3. “You’ll Probably get laid.” I’m pretty sure Mel Gibson just got in heaps of trouble for essentially saying the same thing to his  girlie. Okay maybe he had a different inflection in his voice, but you get the picture.
  4. “The one and only Awesome Dre” sheeeeeeeeeit. I promise you he did not get that name anywhere but the internets. I can also give you at least six reasons I don’t think DUDE is awesome.
  5. SUGAR SLAM IS BACK! looking a bit more haggard and taking up a little more room on that car seat. If you know what I’m saying.
  6. An ode to the Wild Wild West, with no mention of Dru Hill or the Fresh Prince?
  7. “Smash through the glass as the fireworks blast.” Don’t worry there is only 16 minutes left. WOOP WOOP!
  8. Psycopathic Rydas RYDAS! Don’t give up now. Stay with me. Something makes me suspect these guys write their own music.
  9. Blaze Ya Dead Homie, doesn’t seem very dead to me. Then again I don’t think Juggalos are to be trusted with their “your/you’re” usage.
  10. Boondox such a pseudonym seems rather unrelated to being a scarecrow. Not a lot of farming going on in the Boondocks.
  11. Anybody Killa I think this might be Greg Machotka’s rapping pseudonym. Sounds like him anyway. Lispy fucker. Actually I bet GM could do better rapping. This is so shitty.
  12. No one has been talking about the Dayton Family.
  13. Naughty By Nature, Method Man and Redman. And we’re just getting warmed up! Method Man is to WuTang Clan as  David Lee Roth is to Van Halen.
  14. Tom Green is still alive. I guess that’s a good thing. Also, he slept with Drew Barrymore.
  15. Gallagher, because it seems Tom Green isn’t past-his-prime enough. Juggalos, maybe your parents will come along. You can all paint up your faces together.
  16. “He does have good dick jokes.” At this point Sugar Slam pretty much knows she’s getting laid at the end of this infomercial, whether she wants it or not.
  17. Brotha Lynch Hung wishes he was from Fillmore or Vallejo. Guaranteed.
  18. Enormous heroes Sounds like a couple of fat dudes. I would rather see Down By Law.
  19. Warren G obviously had some influence in the videos made by this lot.
  20. Ladies Night on the second stage. Because they are second class citizens? Nope. Because there will only be like 25 females in attendance. Probably a fair amount of swervin’ going on though. Same thing, right?
  21. Afroman and Coolio will be there. Kevin Smith and Michelle Pfeiffer will not.
  22. For real, there seems to be an overweight white guy theme all over this.
  23. And I do mean everything. Get this dude an Oscar!
  24. Good to see they have helicopter rides again this year, and even used the same piece of stock footage.
  25. The Alfred Hitchcock of Hiphop Hmmm, so you’re  saying he white and overweight too?
  26. Fuck that midget has a head like a Beluga Whale.
  27. Bubble Foam Party Again you’re probably going to get laid.
  28. Dammit They just said Milwaukee.
  29. Wrestling
  30. Something about a movie
  31. Tickets available at Hot Topic. Obviously

Huge thanks to Cizarek Leopold Kilbaski for bringing this to my attention.

Okay, if you hung out through that let me try to make things a little bit better for you. Nowhere is coming.

I just hope they don’t put any music from The Who in it this year.

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Posted in A Very Special Rumorator, I watch too much TV, snowboardering | 6 Comments »

The Unexpected Wisconsin

Monday, July 19th, 2010

I had to hit the northwoods of the Wisco for the second time this month. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t in the heart of the northwoods like last time, it was on the western check-point going in to the region. The good news is that the mighty Ojibwe River is wicked high right now. A lot of storms up there lately. The dock at Smets’ place got washed away, and the dock at Elder Broder vR’s got project blown outta alignment and sandwiched some skiff between itself and the rock-ish shore. Then, out of pure malice, the shore and the dock pulled some Night at the Roxbury shit on the little fishing rig.

I also hit up my old stomping ground bike and snowboard shop. Twas good. Always nice to see the guys who have backed me in skateboarding/snowboarding/biking since I was like 12. Not that snowboards, skateboards or bikes were invented when I was 12, but you get the point. And I got connected with a slick, new jersey. That’s a new jersey, as in unused, not guido. I swear to christ the Vosko family is that state’s only redeeming quality.

Friday night SASMETS instructs me to attend a music show with him. Shit. I haven’t seen live music in several minutes. He described it as good old Americana jug-band music. Sheeeeeit. MFer I once waited in line for 3 hours, with 400 40-yr old women to get Lyle Lovett tix, so I can hang. The band was the Gentle Guest. That’s a pretty garbage barge band name for a couple reasons: 1. I forgot it about 50 times already. 2. I personally don’t like it. Anyway, it was The Gentle Guest’s CD release party and to celebrate they organized a pub crawl, during which the band carried their instruments and threw impromptu shows in bars. Pretty stellar idea. I only made it to the last bar.

It was about 2 minutes into their set that I realized SASMETS had lied to me. Sure this band might be americana on CD but their live show was kind of like an assault. But not the kind you’re going to call the police regarding. You’re going to hold this assault some place special, for those days when you need some help passing the time, and internet connection is down. But back to the band. The best I can describe their live show is to liken it to a young Waylon Jennings backed by Man-Man. For real, they had a singer guitarist, a slide-guitar, bass, keys, 2 trombones, a drummer, and one dude who just played one drum and maracas. And of the eight members on stage, 5 were shirtless. Of those five, none of them should’ve have been. But fuck it you know, the songs were loud and completely escalated into chaos on stage. The way good, loud, fast music is supposed to.  If you want to check out this band, hear their more subdued studio work, and maybe suggest a new name check them out here: The Gentle Guest.

Day 2: if there is something northern Wisco really loves, it’s ridiculous humidity. I was attending a family reunion. Not the von Rumorstein’s but the side of the family from Jamestown. I spent most of the afternoon slugging Lagunitas and thinking my cousin Maria’s baby has the largest head I ‘ve ever seen on a child. I should have warned him he’s in for a lifetime of poor fitting hats and helmets. Then I played frisbee with el niece and el nephew and some 8-yr old relative who only barked when I spoke to her. Whatever, at least she wasn’t a blood relative. Five minutes into this game I’m sweating buckets. It was probably the most exercise I’ve gotten in seven years.

After that I drove along to the Mississippi to chill out and make jokes about small towns. Por ejemplo:

A couple things about this picture: 1. Cream is the worst name for a collection of people since The Gentle Guest. 2. There is no way you would turn left to get to this supposed community of Cream. I know this because if you go left, you run directly into bluffs. and there are no roads though that shit. How do I know? I stopped at the local outfitters, hired a sherpa and scaled those MFin bluffs. Also, my “sherpa” was rather unfriendly. It could be that he was not a sherpa, simply a man of Lao decent who preferred to be called “Joe.” None the less I called him  Tenzing the whole time and had him carry my shit so I could get the top and snap this picture. Then I rode down on his back.

You see that land off in the distance? That’s Minnesota. Lutheran country over there. There be dragons.

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Google Image Search Mastery

Thursday, July 1st, 2010

As I do most days,I was Google Image searching an Einstein-Rosen Bridge, and suddenly this happened:

WTF is google trying to tell me?

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The Shiitake Intercept

Thursday, March 25th, 2010

You all thought I was finished, didn’t you?  One week of no blogging. I know that’s bad business, but it’s been a rough week. Stick with me, it gets better from here.

The fact is I’m running through styles faster than Brian/BvG/Grundy/G/Goosefeather/Goose/History Channel does names.   I’m going blame some malicious shit that landed in my files and went Berserker.  C’mon sing along now: Would you like some making fuck, Berserker?

Now on to this: While I was being brought down with some sort of sickness The Crystal Falcon reemerged. Hater has been going on nonstop about the God Particle and trying to get out for his 2nd day on snow for the year. Dude is straight committed to the shred. That and science. That and science and recreational drug use.

Granted I’m hoping to pop in one more day of riding this winter I do new to switch my mind over to mountain bikes.  And the Bike Federation of Wisconsin announced that the 24-race in Wausau is back on. It’s called the Wausau24. Try not to forget that.  You can read about it here.

And if you take notice those zombies over 1 Print Media Drive added in the Hitler sketch, because someone made it I guess. Shit like that is new to Old Media. Never mind that fact that they are allowing anti semitic, cheap laughs to accompany news. They played the borderline race card for a race. JEENYUS! Dudes are out of touch and need to understand that sometimes the net just has to stay the net.

On the other hand sometimes the net needs to get outside, and into every MFers living room. As is the case of fellow bloggermama right here.

To be fair I can’t really just say Sarah Morrison is straight bloggermama. She’s bigger than the blogger net. But she’s still blogs so she’s okay. I think I look pretty good in white as well.  Seriously I’m dressed like a Dru Hill video. Anyway go over here and vote for her, and please leave comments.

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Closet Cleanout Karma

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010


A few months ago I scored up a free jacket from Chappy at Porter’s Tahoe. It was slick. The Volcom Iceman jacket. Certainly a solid piece. I wore that thing a lot this winter. With a little bit of layering underneath, it was plenty warm for the Wisco nighttime shrad sessions. Kind of changed my mind about Volcom gear too. But the most important part is that I got it for free. Big thanks to Chappy.

It also added to my harem of jackets, which was pushing 10 coats at that time. Perhaps my priorities were a touch off.

Fast forward to last Friday night, I was out doing some shradding at the almost-local ski hill. It was the end of the evening, and as most people in the Midwest know, pretty much the end of the season. We were taking advantage of the one of the last nights and just screwing about. Then I see some kid out riding and pushing the best looking pair of pants to come out this year.

Naturally I’s like “Those is some sick pantaloons you’re wearing, senor.” Turns out kid was a lady.

So she’s going off about how she dropped a load on the pants and now she has nothing to match up with them. She was going to have to drop a whole other dump of cash to get the matching jacket. And I was thinking  two things. First off, sistah soldier, you don’t want to be rolling in a same print top and bottom. Secondly, I understand where you are coming from as I have been in such a predicament.  Big B is going to kill you with a print like this then leave you with limited pairing options. That’s how they get you!

And somewhere in that conversation karma kicked in and I said, “Kid you need this coat. I will trade you straight up for that filth rag you are trying to match to the proper pants.” She was all hesitant at first but I assured her I got the coat for free and it was really not a big loss for me. The catch was I got to take her beat, old jacket for bloggerman purposes. Because I knew I would have to document this to get approval from the bloggermanreadership out there.

I only wish there was a way you could feel through the screen because this jacket is disgusting. The shell is like hazmat protection thick and, well, it’s really dirty too.

 

I’m pretty sure the girl was hyped on getting a coat handed to her for free. And I was  pleased knowing that I have cut down the parka stable by one and passed on the goodwill I was lucky enough to have handed to me. I guess the moral of the story is as snowboarders we’re  a pretty fortunate bunch. If you get something for free, pass on the good karma.

As for this coat, I’m going tie a brick in the sleeve and toss it in the lake.

2011 product preview

It seems Burton has finally perfected those magnetic bindings, as evidenced by this photo:

Can’t wait to kickflip the shit out of boards.
Also for those not in the know, you probably won’t be getting that jacket from Sierra Ski and Patio Superstore.

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Specs December 09

Tuesday, December 29th, 2009

You gotta help me choose which ones to wear for NYE:

Okay so they aren’t all scripts. Those purple wayfarers are regulars, but they are gold mirrors in there and I use them to represent my choice to wear contacts.

Part deux:

Man, everyone is hating on Brooke Geery, even the shit that lands in my spam folder.

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