Happy Valentine's Day Suckers

To all of you stupid motherfuckers buying into this corporate-created Hallmark excuse for a holiday, I say hahahaha...you stupid shits. I don't gotta buy shit for anyone, because girls don't like to date me. So ha.

In the News: some badass Thomas Crown shit

Yesterday, three dudes walked into some museum in Zurich and made off with paintings by Van

Gogh, Degas, Monet, and Cezanne.

All told this shit is worth $163 Million. Holy fuck! That's like stealing the Oakland A's or some shit. I salute you random Swiss robbers on being crazy awesome, but where do you fence this stuff?

In other news:

Amy Winehouse and Kanye won a bunch of grammies, but Herbie Hancock prevented them from winning album of the year. Herbie is best known as one of the co-signers of the Declaration of Independence (according to Tommy Boy). I salute you Herbie, for preventing Kanyegomaniac and that crazy slut from winning something.

My man Obama is gaining on Hilary Clinton in terms of delegates. I salute you America, for possibly having the fortitude to elect a black man president because, frankly, that's way better than a dyke president.

Hines Ward visited a zoo. Hilarity ensued.

The Week in Sports

We're gonna do this 'rithmetic style

Aaaah! Iz colder than Green Bay!

+

I iz good GM now please?

+

I iz in big big twubble

And it all = one of the best sports weeks in recent memory. I put up a Giants pic of the Super Bowl for Boyce's sake, but it's not really about the Giants winning so much as it is the Patriots losing that feels so good. Let's make fun of them and their fans as much as possible while it lasts.

An Open Letter to the Hipsters set to Invade Windsor Terrace

Dear Sirs and Madams,

Please stay away from my neighborhood. We do not want your type coming in and opening your stupid fucking coffee shops.

Lonelyville? Crossroads Cafe? (Yea, I know I came in to Crossroads that one time I was high as shit, but that muffin still sucked and only served to increase my dry-mouth). We don't need any fucking cafes in Windsor Terrace. We don't need overpriced coffee and chai tea or fucking clif bars and soy muffins, ok. We don't want a place with wi-fi where we can work on our novels about alienation and childhood trauma centered around that sort of quirky and weird yet strangely cute girl we had a crush on in our white, suburban high school. I'll get my fucking coffee and a bacon egg and cheese from Adam's or Terrace bagels (even Blondie's in a pinch). Got it motherfuckers?

That's what I want my coffee in, dicks. And another thing---I want fucking bud, bud light, and guinness at the fucking bar. All a bar has is bud? That's fine, Farrell's. I don't want no fucking PBR and High Life as my main source of drunkenness, so don't even try and open a satellite bar, Last Exit. I appreciate your trivia night, but keep your fucking Sierra Nevada the fuck away from the area between the park and the cemetery. We got R&B, we're set.

Don't even bring that shit in here. I know you're getting priced out of Manhattan and Cobble Hill and Park Slope, but just fucking go away. Jeans and a t-shirt is cool, but why are your jeans so tight and who the fuck is Che Guevara? Don't wear that queer ass shirt. Why does your friend's t-shirt have a picture of a hungry, hungry hippo? It's not ironic!!! And tell that girl with the square-framed glasses to take off that F train shirt for chrissakes. Your sweater is too small and your blazer is too plaid, so just stop it.

And take off that fucking trucker hat too, you cumstain. The fuckin Peaches, Fizznuts, Eels, Ataris, Taco Sauces and all the rest are not fucking better than my music. The White Stripes and the Strokes got some play on MTV, but you're fucking hip and counterculture so fuck them now, right? Juno was not good...at all. And if Diablo Cody gets a fucking Oscar then I should get one for my upcoming screenplay: How Godzilla Saved the Mets.

And fuck that pie shop too. It was good, but fuckin $4.50 for a shepherd's pie the size of my palm ain't doing it you queer aussie shitbricks. But back to my point dear hipsters. Please just skip over this neighborhood. I know you want to find somewhere kinda cheap in Brooklyn so you don't have to go back to the suburbs of Portland, Oregon, but please just try and cram some more into Williamsburg. They have Asian-fusion restaurants and everything! You'll like it over there, I promise.

Listen, I know accents and talking to your neighbors scare you, so just do yourselves a favor and ignore the F line past 7th Avenue. It will be better for everyone that way.

Sincerely,

Dtro

P.S. Fucking cunts

P.P.S. This goes for you older hipsters trying to start families too. You better have the money to send your sons Coltrane and Jimi (it's like Hendrix, isn't that cute?!) to Berkeley Carroll. Cuz Mikey and Jimmy at Holy Name will make them bite the fucking curb.

Bring The Muthafuckin' Ruckus

Today's news of the Miami Heat engaging in trade negotiations with the Phoenix Suns made me scratch my head and wonder if the Heat were going to trade away D Wade and just say fuck it for the next 10 years. Seeing as how D wade is the only worthwhile player on the Miami roster. Then I heard that the Suns were looking to trade away Shawn (ugliest-shot-in-the-league-but-i'll-make-it-rain-on-your-ass) Marion for the husk of a man that is now Shaquille O'Neal.
I say Bring The Muthafuckin Ruckus Steve Kerr. Do you watch basketball anymore? Shaq is having his worst statistical year ever and has been consumed by injuries. Shawn Marion is guaranteed to add points and not only that; he can actually run the floor at the speed at which the Suns play. Now I admit that I haven't been the biggest Shaq fan since he left the Lakers and I acknowledge that it was Kobe's fault for him leaving. With all of that said, Shaq is no longer the man of steel. I take that back, he runs like he did in that movie Steel when he had that ridiculous bullet-proof suit on.

So please Steve Kerr, trade away Marion for Shaq. Almost immediately it will be shown that the suns will be worse than the Spurs, the Lakers, The Nuggets (Camby is better than Shaq) etc. That is fine with me because there are two things that i despise; the Phoenix Suns and Canadians.

Tuesday Morning Dickfuck

Now I don't want to turn this site solely into a bashfest of the World Wide Leader. Nor do I want it simply to be a venue of nitpickery based on logic and stats like FJM (which it won't be, as logic does not enter into my arguments). However, I can't reserve my vitriol solely for the sports guy, because though he is homerish and stupid and annoying, he cannot ever rise to the level of phony-elitist asshattery that is represented by Gregg Easterbrook. Gregggggg has consistently bashed the Pats this year, which is fine by me, but his writing is so high-handed, preachy, and squirrelly that I cannot help but loathe him.


Now one could just say, "Congratulations to the 72 Dolphins. Pop those corks now, because you are still the only undefeated team in NFL history." Or you could take several thousand words to say the same thing:

"In other NFL news, at 10:06 p.m. ET on Sunday, as the Patriots left the field in Glendale, Ariz., mumbling '#@%*!' under their breaths, corks popped. In one of the sweetest traditions in sports lore, on opening day of every NFL season, each surviving member of the 1972 Miami Dolphins, the sole perfect team in modern pro football history, sets aside a bottle of champagne to cool. And it's genuine champagne from the French province of Champagne, not the boysenberry-infused sparkling-Gewurztraminer wine-like substance that passes for bubbly these days. At the moment the stadium clock hits all-naughts for the vanquishing of the season's last undefeated team, the 1972 Dolphins pull the corks, secure in the knowledge that they will reign as the sole perfect team for at least one more year. Gentlemen of 1972, enjoy your annual draught. TMQ feels confident you will continue to sip champagne each season until you are called to meet the football gods, and greeted by song and feasting."

Wow, you sir, are a dickfuck. "Golly gee, you just can't seem to get good bubbly these days! All-naughts! You see what I did there? Not Zeros...naughts! In case you plebeians didn't know, draughts is a longer word for drinks. Maybe I should've said quaff, though. I am so smart sometimes I do crosswords in Esperanto while blindfolded."

Though they are the only undefeated team ever, I am pretty sure the 72 Dolphins are nowhere near the best team in history. Some of those Montana-Niners teams come to mind. The mid-90s Cowboys. The 70s Steelers. The 85 Bears. The 07 Patriots. Those teams are all better, but at least the Dolphins got real champagne. I guess it's nice for seniors to have something to occupy their mind while scaring kids off their lawns.

Goddamn whippersnappers!

Apologies...not

While I was breaking down whom to root for on the eve of the conference championship games a couple weeks ago, I subtly hinted that Patriots fans might be a little racist in their leanings (because they fucking are):

Fans: (must control rage) Many people know about my disdain for Bostonians and supporters of teams from that area. I'm pretty sure 99% of Pats fans have Welker jerseys to just 1% owning Moss jerseys--take that how you will.

Well, that was a cheap and unfounded shot. To all you Pats fans out there, I just want to say sorr...wait, what? what's that? Bill Simmons, what do you have to say in your queer elegic wrap-up of SB XLII?

5. Much like the Patriots, I choked heading into the weekend: Somehow, I forgot to pack my good-luck Wes Welker jersey and headed to Sunday's game without any Pats gear. Originally intent on buying a Pats hat at the game, once I saw all the jerseys in the stands and in my section, I made the executive decision to fine myself $85 dollars (the price of a white No. 81 Moss jersey at one of those merchandise booths). You can currently find that jersey sitting at the bottom of the garbage can in my hotel room. I might take it home and burn it. I haven't decided yet.

Eat a dick, Pats fans. Eat a dick.

SB XLII in a nutshell

More commentary when I'm not half dead.

The Universe is Righteous Afterall

Here I am watching the New York Football Giants bathe in confetti following the greatest football game I myself have watched. And I am once again reminded that the universe is righteous and fair after-all. So let me take the time to say thank you to Jesus, Allah, Shiva, Buddha, L. Ron Hubbard and any other major religious deities I may have missed. I am now happy the Patriots won all those game this season because they lost the most important one of them all. This game could have only been better if Eli Manning had guaranteed a win just like Broadway Joe Namath, but I'll settle for Bill Belichick crying himself to sleep while crunched in the fetal position.



This game is also monumental because is disproves one of LCT's biggest conspiracy theories that the NFL has been rigging Superbowls for the past several years. Sorry Chuck but I'm sure one of your other conspiracy theories will come to fruition. Oh and to all of you New England fans out there who feel cheated or that the pats deserved this win. Fuck off you bunch of gold bricker-bush league-clam chowder eating-douchebags. You're lucky to have that world series from this year (the 10 day layoff killed the rockies) and now with the lakers adding Pau Gasol to their roster, they will surely serve up the Boston 3-party if they meet in the finals.
So yes the Universe is righteous (mind that when I say this I am not considering the prevalence of poverty, famine, war, disease, human trafficking, and the Hollywood writer's strike) But football is still clean. At least until George Mitchell starts an inquiry into performance enhancing drug use in the NFL.

Johan is a Met...

...fuck...yes!

Well, the terms of the deal are still foggy at this point. It looks like a 6 year extension at about $22 mil per year, on top of this year (with a 7 mil boost this year). All told that's seven years of Johan, and that's alright by me.

The more I think about this trade, the more I like it. For most of the offseason I was kind of against a trade for him, because it would essentially be gutting our farm system for the right to pay Santana $150 million. Now that it's done, and the Mets held on to F-Mart and Pelfrey, it really looks awesome. This 08 mets team has a great rotation, should have enough arms to put together a solid bullpen, and if MLB will let us use a three-man lineup (i.e. bat Reyes, Wright, and Beltran over and over again) we should be able to score enough runs.

"If I play my cards right, I can get siete platanos and a pot of sancocho for that young man"

Hey, Omar! Fuck your...er...eh, I'll let him off for a little while. I don't think Omar Minaya is a very good general manager, but his ability to make this Santana deal at least proves to me that he is not completely and utterly useless. He still made one really, really bad trade and signed Luis "the Gimp" Castillo to a 4-year deal. This team has some flaws at 2nd (although Gimp's decent OBP should save him this year), Catcher (fucking plumber), RF (Jew-hater) especially when lefties are pitching, and LF (b/c Old-Man Alou is guaranteed to break a hip at some point). Delgado better return to 06 form, and Jose can't shit the bed at the end of the season again. All that said, I like the Mets chances this year.

At least Omar got rid of most of the young guys in the organization, so Professor Willie won't get too confused.

Where's Mota?

Joe Buck: "Mets, Diamondbacks. Santana, Haren. Martinez, Webb. It's the NLCS, next on Fox."