Presidential Trivia

In honor of President’s Day, I’ve decided to share a few of my favorite bits of Presidential trivia, courtesy of wikipedia.

1. 23rd president Benjamin Harrison was frightened of the newfangled electricity in the White House. He and his family were afraid to touch the switches for the electric lights, and often had White House staff do it for them.

2. 19th president Rutherford B. Hayes was a noted pianist, composing several songs popular throughout Ohio. One such song, “The Sun will Shine”, later became the theme song to TV’s “Blossom”.

3. 29th president Warren G. Harding, considered by many to be one of the worst presidents ever, was a degenerate gambler who once lost all the White House china on a hand of cards.

4. 33rd president Harry S. Truman is the only president with a one-letter middle name. His middle name was literally “S”, chosen to honor numerous relatives whose names began accordingly.

5. The phrase “you don’t buy beer, you rent it” is attributed to 2nd president John Adams.

6. John Quincy Adams, the sixth President, customarily took a nude early morning swim in the Potomac River while in office.

7. While many rap fans associate the name “Young Dro” with the Atlanta-based rapper, the moniker originally belonged to 28th president Woodrow Wilson. Both men could shoulder lean; however, only Wilson knew how to dance.

Happy Presidents Day

Official Stunner Rankings

#5: Poisonous Blowdart
#4: Buster Douglas beats Mike Tyson
#3: E-40's Sunglasses
#2: Stone Cold Steve Austin
#1: The Big Tymers



New writing coming soon. Thank you.

My Rap Resolutions for 2009

Like many others, I enjoy making a few resolutions at the beginning of a new year. And seeing as I have tremendously little to improve upon, I usually take it upon myself to make resolutions for others: analyzing what’s wrong with them and using equal parts passivity and aggression to change them for the better. After doing this for a few years, I’ve decided to turn this year’s focus to something else: rap music. With that in mind, here are my three rap resolutions for 2009.

If at all possible, I would like to live this year with just a little less T-Pain. For the past 16 months or so, T-Pain has been featured in approximately 128% of all hip-hop songs. Wherever you go, T-Pain is there. On my drive to work, I heard Jamie Foxx (feat. T-Pain), Flo Rida (feat. T-Pain), and Ludacris (feat.T-Pain). For lunch, I had a cold cut sub (featuring T-Pain). Here’s an idea, next time we’re at the club, let’s play a drinking game: Every time a T-Pain song comes on, I take a shot and punch you in the face. Anyway, before I continue, I suppose I should clarify: my T-Pain problem doesn’t stem from his ubiquitousness. I really just hate him for popularizing auto-tune, the robotic voice thingy that must be costing poor Akon a ton of work.

Okay, you're a robot. We get it. Now stop it. And take off that silly-ass hat.

Suddenly everybody has gotten their hands on this thing. Chris Brown’s using it, Snoop used it, Kanye West used it to death on his new album, and Lil’ Wayne used it in more than 20 songs (not kidding) last year. Basic mathematics should indicate that Wayne’s voice, when hooked up to that thingy, should actually sound just like Phil Hartman’s, but it doesn’t work out that way. It’s actually just what your modem would sound like if it had a record deal and a codeine addiction.

And while we’re making some resolutions for 2009, I could certainly do without DJ Khalid yelling at me all the time. I know, I know: you the best. Whatever you say, just please lower your tone. And please start using verbs and contractions in your sentences. But mainly, please lower your tone. And while I’m on the subject, why do so many hip-hop DJs insist on constantly shouting? I don’t care who’s going to be in the building, I’m not going to club Zanzibar this Thursday night if you keep screaming.

Now seems like a good place to display this song I saw on BET’s “106 & Park” for the first time while I was typing this.

Seriously folks, stop it.

And speaking of DJs, they’re involved in my third rap resolution: In 2009, let’s cancel re-starting songs on the radio. Few things bother me more than hearing a DJ start the same song over and over again. Maybe this is more enjoyable in person, when the guy is actually scratching and mixing between two records. On radio, however, it’s just profoundly obnoxious. When I’m driving down the road, steering with my knees so I can devote all of my energy to singing and doing the wop, I need my song to keep going. Once we acknowledge that the remy is in the system, we need to begin exploring the possible repercussions. I don’t need to hear that it’s in the system over and over again. How on Earth did this ever become acceptable? When I become president, I’m immediately putting three rules into action:

1) The left lane (on all roads with 2+ lanes in one direction) has a speed limit 15mph higher than the other lanes.

2) No more than three toppings on a six-inch sub at Subway.

3) Starting “Hypnotize” over and over again is punishable by death.

Three little changes, folks. This doesn’t seem too difficult, does it? If we can make these, any of these, happen in 2009, I guarantee the world will be a better place. Just promise me you’ll try.

The six things I will ask Flobots if I run into them at Whole Foods

How, exactly, does one ride a bike with no handlebars?

How do you steer?

What's at the front of the bike where the handlebars usually go?

Why on earth, if given an option, would one purchase a bike without handlebars, when there are perfectly good ones with handlebars available?

Did you buy a regular bike and remove the handlebars?

Wait, is it a unicycle?

New writing coming this weekend. Thank you.

Point-Counterpoint: Washington Redskins

Point: Hail to the Redskins!

By Chris Rosenthall, October 27, 2008

The Redskins season got off in a deserving fashion, with the induction of two of our all-time greats into the hall of fame. The next day, we stomped the Indianapolis Colts 30-16, and we’ve used that momentum to create one of the best teams in the entire league. Despite bleak preseason predictions from so-called “sports experts” across the nation, we’re 6-2, and well on our way to making a deep run into the playoffs or, dare I say, the Super Bowl.

How did we get here? Let’s take a look.

It all starts at the top, and after years of questionable moves, Dan Snyder has emerged as the savvy owner we always hoped he’d be. Instead of wasting money on some high-priced hotshot coach, he secured a little-known coach from Seattle (Jim Zorn) as his offensive coordinator. With Zorn off the market and in the Redskins stable, Snyder was able to carefully study his work ethic first-hand before determining that he would make an effective head coach.

And how right he was. The first year of Zorn’s coaching career has been nothing short of fantastic. His west coast offensive scheme and unorthodox practice drills have turned us into a high-scoring powerhouse, ready to hold our own against any team in the league. The fans love him, the players love him, and we need to keep him here as long as possible.

The man with the plan

In conclusion, our offense is clicking, our defense is impenetrable, and we’re the best fans in the NFL. Sure, we slipped against the lowly Rams, but that’ll surely just be a tiny aberration on our otherwise fantastic season. Realistically speaking, I predict a 12-4 finish, with an NFL championship by 2011. Hail to the Redskins!

Counterpoint:

The Redskins are the worst football team in the whole wide world. Ever.

By Chris Rosenthall, December 16, 2008

Man oh man, the Redskins suck. Sure, the bandwagon filled up early in the season, but let’s be serious: These guys are horrible. They’ve lost 5 of their last 6 games, and three of those losses were at home. They’re 7-7, and could easily lose their final two games. Horrible, just horrible.

How did they get here? Let’s take a look.

It all starts at the top, and Dan Snyder is clearly an idiot. Always has been, always will be. If you’re looking for proof, look no further than the hiring of Jim Zorn. Nobody wanted Zorn to be the head coach, not even the people who gave him the job. They hired him as the offensive coordinator, and then came back two weeks later and named him the head coach when they couldn’t find anybody else. That’s a pretty big red flag there, isn’t it?

Duh, I don't know nothin bout nothin!

It took Dan Snyder 32 days to hire a new coach. 32 days. For the record, it took 17 for the Catholic Church to pick their new pope. And I bet the pope knew what color his uniform was going to be. Allow me to explain: at Jim Zorn’s first press conference, he referred to the Redskins (aka “The Burgundy & Gold, of course) as “The Maroon and Black”. The Maroon and Black. Really. How do you not know the Redskins colors when you’re:

1) A former NFL quarterback

2) A former NFL quarterback’s coach

3) THE HEAD COACH OF THE EFFING REDSKINS!

If Snyder had a brain in his head, he would have walked up right then and fired him on the spot. My first job was at PetSmart, and I knew what color my outfit would be WAY before I started. And let’s think about that for a second, shall we? Zorn was working as the offensive coordinator for two weeks, and still didn’t know what his team colors were? What was he doing all that time? Certainly nothing football related, I can tell you that. If you gave me seven business days and $2,500 cash, I could get you a monkey that plays Tecmo Bowl, and subsequently, a better football coach than Jim Zorn.

Artist's rendering - not actual monkey

He calls the same three plays, mismanages his roster, and is publicly teased by his players. We need to fire this jerk immediately.

In conclusion, their offense has stalled, their defense has fallen apart, and a lot of you Redskins fans are the crappiest bunch of fans around.

Man, the Redskins are the worst football team in the whole wide world. Ever.

Just 33 shopping days!

I was walking through my local CVS yesterday when I realized that the holiday season, for better or worse, has officially begun. The aisles were adorned with all sorts of Christmas products, from stockings to nutcrackers to those Chocolate oranges they only seem to sell two months out of the year. I was looking at Charlie Brown Christmas figurines when I ran across this little item:



His name is "Chrismouse", he's part of a holiday line called "Rappin Rodentz", and when you squeeze his hand, he raps "Crank Dat". Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Running with the Eagles

So a few weeks ago I decided to enter the Edison High School “Run with the Eagles” 5k run/walk. I say “a few weeks ago”, but I decided many years ago to someday run a 5k. As you may recall, I put it on my 2007 list of things to do, along with the caveat that I do the running man across the finish line. Anyway, in true DIOSU¹ spirit, I finally decided to sign up and participate.

To prepare for the race, I developed my patented three-part recipe for 5k success.

1. Go on the internet and look up how far a 5k is
2. Run on a treadmill a few times the week before the race.
3. Don’t oversleep the day of the race.

Once I completed the first two steps, I decided it would be good to have a target time in mind. My goal was complete the race in less than 33 minutes, with anything under that achieving “pleasant surprise” status. That’s pretty good, right? About ten minutes every mile? That’s what I thought for about two days, when my father sent me an email. He’d done a 5k the year before, and finished in just over 31 minutes. Well dang. I had to drop my target goal to 30 minutes flat, or risk being laughed out of the family.

Since this was my first 5k, I could hardly sleep the night before. I mistook my ringing cell phone for my alarm at 1:30am, and started getting dressed before I realized I was a bit too early. Also disturbing my pre-race sleep was a pair of two of the more unusual dreams I’ve had in a good long while. The first (Vladmir Putin announced his hatred for the USA before pouring ricin on my law firm’s head coordinator) woke me up at around 3:30. The second (I ran the 5k for about a mile before deciding to just run home, drive back up to the school, get out of my car, and run across the finish line ahead of everybody) woke me up around 6:00.

At 7:00, I woke up for real, got dressed and ready to go. The race started at 8am, and my never-early-for-anything ass showed up at about 7:48. As I parked my car and walked to the registration table, guess who rolled up in his police car? That’s right, people who went to Edison when I did, Officer Smith! If you don’t know who Officer Smith is, he’s a friendly cop/school security guy who looks a lot like Antonio Fargas. If you don’t know who Antonio Fargas is, he was Huggybear in the original “Starsky & Hutch”, as well as Flyguy in “I’m gonna git you, Sucka!”. If you don’t know either of those guys, then I can’t help you. Anyway, he rolls up and asks me what’s going on. I tell him about the race, he asks if you can sign up right then, and then we bid each other adieu. Nice guy, that Officer Smith.

(Basically him in a cop uniform)

Since I was so late, I stretched a little while I signed up, and was still fastening my race number to my shirt when the gun went off. About thirty seconds in, I had to stop to tie my shoes, adding two new parts to my recipe for 5k success:

4. Tie your shoes before the race.
5. Don’t stop running.

Running is not inherently interesting to describe, so I’ll summarize it quickly: I ran, checked my pace with my brand new fancy watch ($9.99 at CVS), and ran some more. I passed my street and thought about trying that car scheme I hatched up a few hours ago. I passed McDonalds, thought about stopping for a McGriddle, and then realized the only times I’d ever had one where when I’d literally been up all night and went to McDonalds with my drunk friends as soon as it opened that next morning. I thought about songs I should write. I thought about people I hadn’t spoken to lately. I thought about the lacrosse game I had later that day, and how sometime during the game, my hamstring was going to fall off my leg like a baby back rib. After I reached the library by Rose Hill Apartments (sorry to our out-of-town readers), I turned around to begin the trip back to Edison. And who did I see running about 30 seconds behind me? Officer Smith, clad in head-to-toe spandex. Two things immediately came to mind:

1. He just travels with head-to-toe spandex?
2. Didn’t he just abandon his post?

At around the two mile mark, a little girl shot right by me, which struck me as bullshit. First of all because she was running like little kids dance: hopping around all flat-footed and flailing her elbows as if imitating a chicken. Second, how does a little kid pay attention for the duration of a three mile race? When I was that age (I’m guessing 8), I would’ve run for about half a mile before chasing a squirrel and/or ending up in a tree somewhere. And as that annoying girl vanished into the horizon, guess who passed me? That’s right, my old pal Officer Smith. That man was making excellent time, especially for someone who woke up that day with no knowledge of the race. Good for him.

When I returned to Edison High, I was exhausted. Three-quarters of the track was all that remained. That little girl was probably eating orange slices and spinning around in circles somewhere, and that son of a bitch Officer Smith was rapidly widening the gap between us. My competitive nature had forced me to forget all about my running man plans for the end of the race, and my new goal was just beating Officer Smith. I broke into a full sprint. Smith, unaware we were in any direct competition, continued his regular pace. We finished the final straightaway, and I waited for the results. My time? 24:54. His? 24:53. That’s right, he beat me by one second. Sure it was tough to lose to a guy who’s just a little over twice my age, but the spandex thing makes me think (hope) he does a lot of distance running.

I originally planned to never run a 5k again, but now that some time has passed, I’ll probably run a few more. In fact, let’s already put it out there. Officer Smith, if you’re reading this (and I assume you are), I want a rematch. Edison High School: 2009. Give me more than a week to prepare this time, and I guarantee I’ll beat you. That’s right, Flyguy: next year, I’m gonna get you, sucka. Oh mama, that was terrible.

¹ My personal slogan: Do it or Shut Up.