Quick Thinking: The Brady Sicks

The NFL off-season that wouldn't die began with a playoff loss to the J-E-T-S quarterbacked by a man courting 17-year-old Eliza Kruger.

Reports of "strange behavior" appear on local news broadcasts across the country.

It rose from the grave when NFL players decided to disband their union ensuring tactical flexibility in the form of an antitrust lawsuit during the owners impending lockout.

Fear spreads and citizens start boarding up their windows.

And, finally, it advanced to undead walking status when the ponytail wearing leader of Patriot Nation cried on national TV during ESPN's Year of the QB: The Brady 6.

The outbreak is official.

Grab your shotty, machete, a few red bulls and take no prisoners as the NFL's version of the zombie apocalypse engulfs us, dear readers. Unless, of course, choreographed dancing is involved because, as we all know, zombies who can boogie are great pets to have. I call "dibs" on any midget ones, though.

They don't eat as much.

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Quick Thinking
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-- The Bulls will win the NBA Championship this year.

-- I can take the fashion decisions influenced by your supermodel wife, Tom. What I can't take, however, is watching you cry for ESPN's cameras while your championship window is closing.

-- Lock it up, brother.

-- No one in Red Sox Nation misses John Farrell more than I do.

-- Hey, Feds, at least the country hasn't been suffering through tough economic times while you pissed away millions over eight years trying to put Barry Bonds behind bars.

-- Politically charged witch hunt, anyone?

-- I'll never stop eating Cocoa Pebbles.

-- And you can't make me.

-- With 1/16th of the season behind us, the "best" team in baseball has the worst record. I wonder who saw that coming?

-- Gooooooooo, ME!

-- Saying, "I told you so" would be a bit childish. So I'll go with the age old adage, "measure twice, cut once" to convey my sentiment.

-- Give it a minute.

-- Understatement of the Week Award goes to whoever pens movie blurbs at Direct TV for describing Deliverance as, "Nature and mountain men humble four Atlanta businessmen on a canoe trip in the Appalachian wilds."

-- Silly me for not realizing "humble" was synonymous with "ass rape."

(Self) Defense Wins Championships

The faster the years past the more I realize I'm not what most people think I am. (Which, as all of you probably know, is an asshole of sorts.) My contention, of course, is that I'm simply misunderstood.

Just ask Common.

In high school, it was my sharp tongue. In college, my sharper tongue. Today, it manifests in the crass, sometimes offensive, words I write. At this rate, according to popular opinion, my concern really should be what lava front real estate will be going for in Hell when it's my time.

Lucky for me, we all know what I think of popular opinion.

For the record, though, it's not that I'm an "asshole" just for the sake of being an "asshole." I'm just, well, indifferent. And I'm not talking about always-pretending-I-don't-care-what-people-think-only-to-privately-mourn-my-true-feelings kind of indifferent. I'm talking about Dexter-stabbing-someone-in-the-heart-and-casually-dismembering-their-corpse indifferent.

For real real.

I can already hear the disbelief and see the eye rolling, dear readers, but try to suspend disbelief for a second and hear me out.

This blog isn't a dissertation on my lack of feelings. (Quite the opposite, in fact.) This blog is purely a testament to the level of comfort I've reached in my own skin and the self awareness that goes along with it. My value -- or any perceived value -- is controlled entirely by me. Good, bad, ugly...whatever. And in my experience, while being self aware seems like a noble goal in life, it commonly results in what others mistake as "being an asshole."

Regardless of third party viewpoints, though, I'm the protagonist in my life story being written by me. Not by you. In literary terms, most everyone else in my life serves as a supporting character who's main job is to help me learn on my journey.

Here's an example: the kind of car I drive doesn't add value to my life. I value having one, sure. But the car in and of itself doesn't add value to who I am as a person. (Unless, of course, you're in need of a ride home.) Same thing goes for my best friend. I value him, as a person, but not in a desperate, co-dependent manner.

The point of what seems to be a heaping spoonful of psychobabble, dear readers, is this: take a peek at your life's landscape and see where value lives. If it's in the "stuff" surrounding you than I hope you're fortunate enough to find it living elsewhere in the coming years. However, if you're lucky enough to find it living in the mirror, than you're enjoying the same solace in life I've found.

Or maybe you're just an asshole, too.

Quick Thinking: Sprungfield

Spring has sprung, dear readers. And, along with sunny skies that melt snow piles and show us the promise of summer, it brings along with it the greatest Wonka confection of all time: Sweet Tarts in the shape of Ducks, Chics and Bunnies.

Enjoy accordingly.

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Quick Thinking
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-- How is it that with the countless health trend infomercials pirating late night and early morning TV showing an infinite number of people who have "changed their lives with this incredibly easy program" America is still one of the fattest countries in the world?

-- And I mean like orca fat.

-- Sometimes I wish my name was Wolf Blitzer.

-- Celebrity Look A Like of the Week goes to Gary Busey for looking like Matt Damon from Team America.



-- I think we can both agree I'm being generous.

-- F**k YEAH!

-- Opening Day arrives to find Red Sox Nation heralded as the "team to beat" in the American League by every media "expert" with a microphone.

-- Feels unfamiliar.

-- The predictions also make me very, very nervous because, as we all know, while individuals may be intelligent, popular opinion usually turns out to be anything but.

-- Just ask the 2010 Patriots.

-- Or the teams who played VCU during this year's Madness.

-- And the 69 million strong who have listened to Rebecca Black's single Friday on YouTube.

-- Geniuses all, I'm sure.

-- I inherently don't trust any adult wearing clothing with Disney characters.

-- Listen, y'all, it's one thing to want to have kids. It's a complete different thing to try and lure them into your lair with pictures of Mickey, Donald and Pluto.

-- Creepy.

-- It appears the stalemate between NFL players and owners has gone playground with each side saying, "I'm rubber and you're glue."

-- Not the best way to sway public opinion, fellas.

-- At this rate, we might as well just settle the dispute with a good 'ol fashion game of Red Rover.

-- You think Kraft and Jerry Jones have the strength to hold the line when they send Adrian Peterson right over?

-- Ya, me neither.

Quick Thinking: Superlative?

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, dear readers. And, while imitation is nice and all, giving people awards is a considerable form of flattery too, right? Going through some old files I came across one such award from my high school days in the shape of a superlative: Best Dressed Male, Class of '93.

[ SIDE NOTE: START ]

Obviously "best dressed" was a loose term in '93. Any young man living during an era of boat shoes, BUM Equipment and pegged pants can't be awarded anything synonymous with good fashion sense.

[ SIDE NOTE: END ]

I think the logical train of thought is obvious: what kind of superlatives would you award the folks in your life today? Those of us in relationships have a canned response echoing the sentiment, "our partner is all the superlative we'll ever need." And that answer might work if not for an epic drinking game I played in college teaching me to call...BULLSHIT!

I understand most of us lack the freedom from consequence allowing superlatives to be awarded in our adult lives. However, I also imagine each one of us has a mental list of first responders if pressed for such intimate information.

Consider yourself officially pressed.

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Quick Thinking
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-- Fatherly Advice of the Week is for all you "Playas" out there trying to get that hot girl by throwing money around. Stop. Instead, try asking a few questions, discover what life experiences humanize the hotness and nurture them.

-- Or exploit them. Whatever works.

-- Just remember: One can be "the man" without being "the bank."

-- With the over saturated coverage of college basketball already beginning as we prepare for the madness, one thing is painfully clear to me: Doug Gottlieb needs to stop borrowing his father's suits.

-- C'mon, Doug, you're a regular in Bristol now. Go to the tailor.

-- Speaking of ESPN, Sage Steele has been getting quite a bit of face time on SportsCenter lately and the obvious play-on-words is she's "spicy."

-- Quote of the Week goes to a frustrated coworker who said the following when management questioned his ability to set client expectations during a sales cycle, "I'm 155 million percent clear with clients to control their expectations!"

-- Hyperbole much?

-- In an attempt to bring some levity to the argument, my interjection earns me Quote of the Week II honors for the second straight week, "Don't be so modest, I think you're definitely closer to 156 million percent."

-- There's no truth to the rumor that during games next season Tom Brady will have his usual play call "cheat sheet" on one wrist and a scrunchie on the other.

-- Question of the Week: How many Super Bowl winning quarterbacks wore ponytails? (answer near bottom of blog.)

-- In the aftermath of The Week of Winning starring Charlie Sheen, do you think Denise Richards is celebrating the escape from her ex-husband's winning world or suffering from a severe case of autophobia for having inhabited it?



-- Her picture may not help answer the question, but I'm pretty sure it possesses inherent medicinal qualities.

-- Since when did mediocre football players announcing their "unretirement" become news worthy?

-- Actually, since when did mediocre players unretire?

-- At least your timing isn't bad or anything, Tiki. Nothing like buying a ticket on the Titanic when it's already sinking.

-- I know basketball is an emotional game, but I have a hard time believing any Miami Heat player would be moved to tears following a regular season loss.

-- I do, however, imagine Dwayne Wade sheds a few tears when stumbling across pictures of him and former girlfriend, Star Jones.

-- That's right. Dwayne Wade dated Star Jones.

-- Answer of the Week: It's a trick question, you silly fuck. Men with ponytails use leave-in conditioner, they don't win Super Bowls.

-- Mos Def's new single World Premiere is absolute fire.

-- And I'm not talking about the painful kind Joe Chlamydia has.

Quick Thinking: Too Much Information

People feel comfortable telling me things. All kinds of things, actually.

And, while I'm flattered folks trust me enough to share those marginally inappropriate thoughts as they pass through their minds, I have to kindly ask you all to stop.

No, seriously. Stop.

A coworkers recent unsolicited graphic description of the homosexual porn he viewed with his wife the previous evening in an attempt to "try something different" has left an indelible mark on my psyche forcing me to close up my "lend an ear" shop for a little while.

I fear I may never recover.

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-- He may be losing his grip on reality, but Charlie Sheen's idea of the perfect work environment involving, "sandwiches, massages & handjobs," is tough to argue with.

-- Speaking of Mr. Sheen, did you hear him say all this debauchery is a gift he's giving to people?

-- I wonder what type of reciprocal gifts all those porn stars are giving him.

-- Other than herpes, of course.

-- Don't look now, but here comes madness of the March variety.

-- Odette Yustman is moving up my celebrity crush list ladder.



-- Quite nimbly, I might add.

-- I miss listening to Dale & Holley during my mid-day drives.

-- Big ups to Danny Ainge for having the courage to build for the future.

-- After all, nostalgia doesn't win championships.

-- Quote of the Week goes to yours truly for saying the following to a coworker in an attempt to make her laugh after she shared with a group of us that her grandmother MAY HAVE HAD a stroke, "Well on the bright side, if she did, at least she can be Rocky every Halloween."

-- Awkward Moment of the Week is credited to said coworker when she responded, "Not really, Terrence. She's black."

-- My response earns Quote of the Week II honors, "Oh, than just give her some American flag shorts and she can be the old version of Apollo. You know, if Drago hadn't killed him."

-- It also inches me closer to that penthouse in Hell I seemed destined for.

-- Hope the view is good.

Quick Thinking: Retro Grades

They say those who live in the past are doomed to die there. With that in mind, dear readers, I implore each of you to forget what was and remember what is.

The past is just that: past. So, instead of feeling anger or guilt for things that have happened, start planning for things you hope still can.

Now I'm not saying forget everything from times past. Reminisce, sure.

But don't set up residence.

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Past Thoughts
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-- I'm still hungover from the Patriots' playoff loss.

-- Yup, still.

-- Watching Conan the other night made me realize G-Love, similar to a booty call, isn't the same without Special Sauce.

-- Stefaan Engels, the Belgian athlete who completed his quest to run a marathon every day for a year, is officially the only man who can say P90X is for pussies.

-- Remember though, Mr. Engels: no one likes a show-off.

-- Especially for 365 consecutive days.

-- Stupid Question of the Week goes to yours truly for asking an unnamed co-worker upon seeing a tattoo on the inside of her right wrist that reads "...this two shall pass..." the following: "Why 'two' instead of 'too?'"

-- Stupid Answer of the Week goes to that same co-worker for responding, "Because it's a famous saying. Duh. You went to college, right? Shouldn't you know that."

-- She's right. I should know that.

-- My boss recently informed me upper management was "taking note" of my actions and viewed me as an "agent of change" in the company.

-- And by "agent of change," I think he meant "grossly overqualified for the menial position I accepted with the company due to our country's shit economy."

-- There may have even been a hint of "we also hope the slightest promise of a promotion will keep you pacified and, ultimately, pigeonholed in your current position," too.

-- Spaced alliteration anyone?

-- Monster.com and your inspirational commercials, I turn my lonely eyes to you.

-- Speaking of commercials, why were the trio of gay bakers, responsible for the yummy breakfast treat Cinnamon Toast Crunch, replaced by...um, well, the cinnamon toast crunches themselves?

-- Crazy squares, indeed.

-- Oh, and why did Brisk Iced Tea make an attempt to recapture the brilliance of a late-90's marketing campaign,, anchored by clay-like figurines voiced by their celebrity movie counterparts, with Eminem?

-- The Italian Stallion, digital or not, knows what he's talking about, y'all. Thanks to the time machine qualities of YouTube & the Internet: nothing is over.

-- Nothing.

-- Except, of course, my focus on retro commercials in this blog.

Quick Thinking: One And Done?

With the healthy birth of my first child, Declan David Joyce, I find myself reflecting on sins of past "lifetimes" in hopes they won't haunt my baby boy.

Other than that, there's really only one thing I can wish for the little man.

That crazy skips a generation.

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Quick Thinking
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-- Conspiracy Theory Award of the Week goes to Christina Aguilera for "accidentally" forgetting the words to our nation's anthem.

-- If you don't think the over/under line in Vegas for the song's length @ 1:54 had anything to do with her sudden memory lapse than you're too naive to be reading this blog.

-- So you know, Christina's "big game" anthem timed out at 1:53.56.

-- True story.

-- Memo to All You Female Teachers Out There Engaging in Sexual Relations With Students: Sex with high school boys will not help you recapture your youth or win that coveted Prom Queen title you've been harping for all these years.

-- Having sex with me, on the other hand, will.

-- Giggity, giggity.

-- Youth recapturing and prom title notwithstanding, of course.

-- When did Tiger Woods forget how to play golf?

-- Mix Tape Song of the Week Award goes to Steven Marley's Hey Baby.

-- And, no, not because it features the mighty Mos Def.

-- Hey, FOX, thanks for that Tom-Brady-is-the-first-ever-unanimous-league-MVP halftime update kick in the balls.

-- I still prefer the old # 12. You know, the one who's greatness was defined by winning championships.

-- Not individual accolades.

-- Ok, I lied. Mos Def had everything to do with Hey Baby being awarded the Mix Tape Song of the Week.

-- His lyric, "And even though I'm gone, I am never to far; You're the light through the dark, shining right through my heart." didn't hurt, either.

-- Ray Allen is 2 away from netting 2,561 3-pointers and passing Reggie Miller atop the NBA's all-time list.

-- I couldn't hit that many three's playing Double Dribble.

-- On Level 1.

-- Against the Boston Frogs.

-- That's right, the green team on Double Dribble was the digital basketball powerhouse known as "The Frogs."

-- Speaking of which, am I the only one who thinks their mascot looks like a creepy, 8-bit sex offender? (He makes an appearance at approximately 17 seconds.)

-- Giggity, goo.

-- Watching the post-Patriots playoffs learned me our home team is too soft on defense to win a Super Bowl.

-- Big ups to the female propaganda machine which successfully cheapened the inherent gifting spirit of birth by commercializing said experience with the materialistic notion of a "push" gift.

-- Talk about irony.

-- I'll be expecting one next time I take a shit so big my ass bleeds.