This hour of 24 begins with Jack and the Russian mobster trying to negotiate with the Not Dead Son to return the nuclear rods. Soon, the Not Dead Son becomes the Also Dead Son due to some sharp shooting by the A-rabs that wanted the nuclear rods in the first place.
Over at the CTU, Agent Freckles is sticking to her story of self defense about stabbing old boy friend Vlad four billion times. Rahm Emmanuel calls and tells Director Bubba that someone from the Justice Department’s night shift is going to come down and interview her because if there is a nuclear explosion in the US, someone’s going to have to take the “fall” for it, even if it is a woman with a hot bod.
Agents Chico goes out hunting for The Not That Hot Tech who is lying in wait to kill Cletus and Jethro after they have a good time with some strippers. He finds her and finally she spills the beans about her sorid past, which includes a Southern accent. She says, and this is almost a direct quote, “I have a fella knee on mah reckord”.
The A-rabs now have the nuclear rods and they decide to use it against the United States. President Poofy-Hair’s rat looking brother is appalled and soon we are treated to another litany about America being the bad guy and they are going to invade us anyway, just like any other movie from Michael Moore.
The Justice Department’s night shift attorney shows up and she is all into Agent Freckles kool aid about it being wrong to kill some body and that her law class would have never sunken so low. This causes Agent Freckles to remember her English Classes in college and she begins to cry and sign a confession that if the US blows up, it is her fault.
Of course, Jack sees all of this and he hops into hyper-Jack mode and his Tased for his efforts. So in the past two hours Jack has been stabbed in the stomach, electrocuded, and tased. All in a day's work, right Jack?
President Poofy-Hair’s brother does not like the kill America plan so he runs off and is shot. He contacts CTU in hopes that they will forgive him for all of the junk he has put them through tonight. Director Bubba agrees to send a team out to rescue him, but Agent Chico is listening to The Not That Hot Tech go on and on about her “paste” that includes the name, “Ja knee”. Since Agent Chico is not around, Director Bubba assigns the youngest most inexperience member of CTU, Agent Archie, to lead the project. Jack steps in and agrees to lead the task since he has nothing better to do at 1:00 in the morning than to save a two face rat that started the whole mess anyway.
Meanwhile, in the only secluded spot in New York City, Cletus and Jethro get done with their floozies. Agent Chico confronts them. Cletus gets religion. Jethro doesn’t and stabs Cletus and begins to attack Agent Chico. Agent Chico blows him away. While he is dying, Cletus says something about Jeff Gordon being Gay. Leaving the Not That Hot Tech to wonder what all of this has to do with the rest of the show.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Turf Battle
As part of my continuing effort to bring more headaches into my life, I think it is my duty to comment on the Artificial Turf debate that is raging in Cobb County. Before I do, some facts about Cobb County need to be explained.
The Cobb County Board Of Education does not build football stadiums for its high schools. When a school is built, the BOE advises that there is land for a football field. Usually is it behind the school, which, considering Cobb County is a blessing that it is not down the street. The school meaning “the football booster club” must build the seats, concession stands, etc. No monies come from the county for any of that stuff.
Secondly, for the past ten years the Board of Education has been using a “Special Purpose Local Option Sales Tax” (SPLOST) to fund capital improvements and to build new schools.
Someone had the bright idea to add the installation of artificial turf to the high school football fields on the last SPLOST (III) that was voted on in October of 2008 Depending upon who you ask, it can take anywhere from $100.00 to $1,000,000 to maintain a high school football field. SPLOST III passed with 61% of the vote.
Here is where in most sane locations of America the story would end. Not in Cobb County.
We have a group of well meaning, but odd education activists led by Walter G. “Pete” Borden, a retired Marine, Mason, and playwright who was a guest columnist for the Marietta Daily Journal*. He has filed suit to have the installation of artificial turf stopped because “Irreparable harm will result to the plaintiff ...if this Court does not restrain the defendants from this unauthorized expenditure of public funds”. The suit does not state what “irreparable harm” would happen to Mr. Borden if Sprayberry High School plays football on artificial turf.
To be fair, the suit claims that under state law SPLOST funds are limited to educational facilities and athletic fields would not qualify. That’s fine, but why wait over a year to file suit? If it was against the law in 2010 it would have been against the law in 2008, right?
I should have seen this coming. Mr. Borden wrote a column regarding the artificial turn issue. Mr. Borden wrote: “By now, most interested Cobb County residents are aware that SPLOST III contained a highly controversial and potentially dangerous plan to install artificial turf in our high school football stadiums. I say ‘controversial because of a question as to whether this is a legitimate use of SPLOST funds. There is also a question as to how this expenditure would further the education of our children. I say ‘dangerous’ because the jury is still out on whether this material is hazardous to the health.”
I love the “By now” phrase of Mr. Borden’s column. The vote for SPLOST III was about a year before this column was written and the pro-SPLOST forces advertised that it contained funds for artificial turf. Granted, there have been other times when the Board of Education was secretive, the implication that it was in this instance is simply inaccurate.
Mr. Borden also brandishes the “safety” card, which is funny because the subject is football, which even on lush Kentucky green grass is a violent contact sport. For the record, I have been to football games at both McEachern and Harrsion High Schools (both have artificial turf) and have not witnesses any health issues besides broken bones and egos.
I must admit I am a little sensitive to this issue. For four seasons, I helped paint the Kennesaw Mountain High School football field for games. That field had holes, rocks, and bee hives. I’m not sure how this is safer than artificial turf.
The only relevant argument is regarding the legality of use of SPLOST funds on a football field. If not, oh, well, chalk another one up for the crack legal team the Board of Education uses. If it is legal, this is just another example of someone taking to court what they could not win at the ballot box.
* The Marietta Daily Journal used the term “guest columnist” to describe Mr. Borden, although it seems like he was in the paper as much as Funky Winkerbean. The MDJ will not print any more of his work until the lawsuit has been resolved or if he withdraws as a plaintiff.
The Cobb County Board Of Education does not build football stadiums for its high schools. When a school is built, the BOE advises that there is land for a football field. Usually is it behind the school, which, considering Cobb County is a blessing that it is not down the street. The school meaning “the football booster club” must build the seats, concession stands, etc. No monies come from the county for any of that stuff.
Secondly, for the past ten years the Board of Education has been using a “Special Purpose Local Option Sales Tax” (SPLOST) to fund capital improvements and to build new schools.
Someone had the bright idea to add the installation of artificial turf to the high school football fields on the last SPLOST (III) that was voted on in October of 2008 Depending upon who you ask, it can take anywhere from $100.00 to $1,000,000 to maintain a high school football field. SPLOST III passed with 61% of the vote.
Here is where in most sane locations of America the story would end. Not in Cobb County.
We have a group of well meaning, but odd education activists led by Walter G. “Pete” Borden, a retired Marine, Mason, and playwright who was a guest columnist for the Marietta Daily Journal*. He has filed suit to have the installation of artificial turf stopped because “Irreparable harm will result to the plaintiff ...if this Court does not restrain the defendants from this unauthorized expenditure of public funds”. The suit does not state what “irreparable harm” would happen to Mr. Borden if Sprayberry High School plays football on artificial turf.
To be fair, the suit claims that under state law SPLOST funds are limited to educational facilities and athletic fields would not qualify. That’s fine, but why wait over a year to file suit? If it was against the law in 2010 it would have been against the law in 2008, right?
I should have seen this coming. Mr. Borden wrote a column regarding the artificial turn issue. Mr. Borden wrote: “By now, most interested Cobb County residents are aware that SPLOST III contained a highly controversial and potentially dangerous plan to install artificial turf in our high school football stadiums. I say ‘controversial because of a question as to whether this is a legitimate use of SPLOST funds. There is also a question as to how this expenditure would further the education of our children. I say ‘dangerous’ because the jury is still out on whether this material is hazardous to the health.”
I love the “By now” phrase of Mr. Borden’s column. The vote for SPLOST III was about a year before this column was written and the pro-SPLOST forces advertised that it contained funds for artificial turf. Granted, there have been other times when the Board of Education was secretive, the implication that it was in this instance is simply inaccurate.
Mr. Borden also brandishes the “safety” card, which is funny because the subject is football, which even on lush Kentucky green grass is a violent contact sport. For the record, I have been to football games at both McEachern and Harrsion High Schools (both have artificial turf) and have not witnesses any health issues besides broken bones and egos.
I must admit I am a little sensitive to this issue. For four seasons, I helped paint the Kennesaw Mountain High School football field for games. That field had holes, rocks, and bee hives. I’m not sure how this is safer than artificial turf.
The only relevant argument is regarding the legality of use of SPLOST funds on a football field. If not, oh, well, chalk another one up for the crack legal team the Board of Education uses. If it is legal, this is just another example of someone taking to court what they could not win at the ballot box.
* The Marietta Daily Journal used the term “guest columnist” to describe Mr. Borden, although it seems like he was in the paper as much as Funky Winkerbean. The MDJ will not print any more of his work until the lawsuit has been resolved or if he withdraws as a plaintiff.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
More From "Mullet"
Chapter Four: The Park
One of the things that outsiders do not understand about youth baseball is that there are several different types of youth baseball leagues.
The most famous, of course, is called Little League. There’s a Cal Ripken League. We’ve always played in The Dizzy Dean league, named after the man who invented charcoal.
Each of these leagues have there different rules and regs. For example, in Little League, there is no leading off the base or stealing. The runners must keep a foot on the bag at all times. Respectively, I think that is really Gay.
The park you take your kid to will belong to one those leagues and will follow the leagues guides as your kids grows. And it will be run by an “association”.
“The Association” is the group of parents whose kids play at the park you are at. You will be ask to vote on members of the board. It is very important that you vote for these members. You may get lucky like we did one time and have the head of the concession stands kid on our team. We got the choice date to do work the concession stand: early morning on the first day!
The members of the board determine which league your park will play at and which rules they will follow. At the first park we were at, kids start in T-Ball. There is where you place the ball at the top of a T and see if your kid can hit it. At the park we went to a year later, they did coach pitch at 5 years old and then if the kid couldn’t hit after five tries, then the T comes out.
Some parks keep score for T-ball, some don’t. Some make you play with the same group of kids through a particular league. In Mustangs, you will play with the same group of kids and then change in Pony. Or the other way around. I never have been able to remember if it is Pony before Mustangs or Mustangs before Pony. All I know neither is as Gay as Little League.
Here in Cobb County, Georgia, the county has built the baseball parks and basically does one thing: mow the grass once in June. The county gives the actual day to day aspects of running a park to the Association.
In other words, if you don’t like your little Tater’s coach, you don’t go to a county commission meeting to complain about Coach Billy Bob. No, you go to the board and complain about Coach Billy Bob, who just happens to sit on the board.
It costs money to run a baseball park and that is where you as parents come in. Fund raising.
I know things cost money, but it seems when you are a parent you are given a zillion things to have your kid “sell” in order to raise money. Even in public schools, your tax dollars are not enough. No, they need your Sallie Foster wrapping paper money too. That means all you parents have to bring something to work to sell to your co-workers.*
Some parks give the parents a box of candy and tell them to sell it. Which to me, isn’t that bad of an idea. It is real easy to sell food at work. You could bring a loaf of bread and sell it slice by slice at the places I’ve worked.
Other items, like wrapping paper and discount cards are a little more difficult. My son’s highschool football team sold discount cards to restaurants one year. You know, Buy one whopper, get the other whopper free.....you give it to the kid behind the counter and he has to stop and run back and ask his manager about it. Well, this particular year had a discount from “Hooters” on it. I sold out of the cards.
Fortunately though, our park didn’t do that type of fund raising. It did it all through the concession stand and sponsorship of the team. The idea was to get a business, like Goodyear or Oui,Stickem and Howe, Attorneys at Law to pony up $200 bucks to sponsor a team and in return get advertising in the form of the company’s name on the back of the jersey. Everyone knows an eight year old boy has approxmiatley three hundred t-shirts but will wear only two and hopefully that one will be his baseball shirt when he was on the team your business sponsored.
Over the years, I began to refer to the teams by the sponsor’s names, like the Vaughn Homes Astros and the Keller Interiors Braves. (It is just a coincidence that these two sponsors can build a custom home and create an, um interior for people that mention the business in the humor book.)
My favorite sponsor was a team we never got to play for: Smith’s Foods D/B/A Blimpies.
That was actually on the back of the baseball jersey. On most of the kids, it went straight from shoulder to a sharp curve going down the back.
Of course, the biggest fund raiser of all at a park is the concession stand.
As most people now know, proper hydration is a important part of a child’s life. We are not quite sure what would happen if, by chance, a child sweats without having the proper follow through of grape Gatorade leaving the always popular, grape mustache on a kid’s face. The child would probably feel….thirsty.**
The concession stand not only sells drinks, it also sells gum, popcorn, soft drinks, coffee, candy, French fries, hamburgers (if you are lucky due to health laws), hot dogs, chicken fingers, salads, lottery tickets, pornographic magazines featuring Hot Moms Of The Park, et.al. Anything to help the park raise money. But never, ever, get behind a kid when they are ordering at the concession stand unless you happen to have four hours to kill.
If you give a six year old a dollar and tell them to get what they want they will walk up to the concession stand and slap the dollar on the counter and ask, “What can I get for a dollar”? (“Well, you can get a popcorn, a candy bar or you can get this photo of Mrs Hotski or a lottery ticket.”)
*At the insurance company I worked at, a personel weasel said in a staff meeting that it was against “Federal Law” (this person’s actual words, not mean humor-man funny words) to sell something at work. I got into a heated exchange of words, mentioning, for starters, that car salesman must be breaking the law more than we thought.
**This has nothing to do with Gatorade, but the funniest, yet oddest response I ever heard to a kid asking for a Powerade was this, and this is, I swear, verbatim. Kid: “Daddy, can I get a Powerade?” Daddy: “I’ll power your ade.” I think this meant no.
One of the things that outsiders do not understand about youth baseball is that there are several different types of youth baseball leagues.
The most famous, of course, is called Little League. There’s a Cal Ripken League. We’ve always played in The Dizzy Dean league, named after the man who invented charcoal.
Each of these leagues have there different rules and regs. For example, in Little League, there is no leading off the base or stealing. The runners must keep a foot on the bag at all times. Respectively, I think that is really Gay.
The park you take your kid to will belong to one those leagues and will follow the leagues guides as your kids grows. And it will be run by an “association”.
“The Association” is the group of parents whose kids play at the park you are at. You will be ask to vote on members of the board. It is very important that you vote for these members. You may get lucky like we did one time and have the head of the concession stands kid on our team. We got the choice date to do work the concession stand: early morning on the first day!
The members of the board determine which league your park will play at and which rules they will follow. At the first park we were at, kids start in T-Ball. There is where you place the ball at the top of a T and see if your kid can hit it. At the park we went to a year later, they did coach pitch at 5 years old and then if the kid couldn’t hit after five tries, then the T comes out.
Some parks keep score for T-ball, some don’t. Some make you play with the same group of kids through a particular league. In Mustangs, you will play with the same group of kids and then change in Pony. Or the other way around. I never have been able to remember if it is Pony before Mustangs or Mustangs before Pony. All I know neither is as Gay as Little League.
Here in Cobb County, Georgia, the county has built the baseball parks and basically does one thing: mow the grass once in June. The county gives the actual day to day aspects of running a park to the Association.
In other words, if you don’t like your little Tater’s coach, you don’t go to a county commission meeting to complain about Coach Billy Bob. No, you go to the board and complain about Coach Billy Bob, who just happens to sit on the board.
It costs money to run a baseball park and that is where you as parents come in. Fund raising.
I know things cost money, but it seems when you are a parent you are given a zillion things to have your kid “sell” in order to raise money. Even in public schools, your tax dollars are not enough. No, they need your Sallie Foster wrapping paper money too. That means all you parents have to bring something to work to sell to your co-workers.*
Some parks give the parents a box of candy and tell them to sell it. Which to me, isn’t that bad of an idea. It is real easy to sell food at work. You could bring a loaf of bread and sell it slice by slice at the places I’ve worked.
Other items, like wrapping paper and discount cards are a little more difficult. My son’s highschool football team sold discount cards to restaurants one year. You know, Buy one whopper, get the other whopper free.....you give it to the kid behind the counter and he has to stop and run back and ask his manager about it. Well, this particular year had a discount from “Hooters” on it. I sold out of the cards.
Fortunately though, our park didn’t do that type of fund raising. It did it all through the concession stand and sponsorship of the team. The idea was to get a business, like Goodyear or Oui,Stickem and Howe, Attorneys at Law to pony up $200 bucks to sponsor a team and in return get advertising in the form of the company’s name on the back of the jersey. Everyone knows an eight year old boy has approxmiatley three hundred t-shirts but will wear only two and hopefully that one will be his baseball shirt when he was on the team your business sponsored.
Over the years, I began to refer to the teams by the sponsor’s names, like the Vaughn Homes Astros and the Keller Interiors Braves. (It is just a coincidence that these two sponsors can build a custom home and create an, um interior for people that mention the business in the humor book.)
My favorite sponsor was a team we never got to play for: Smith’s Foods D/B/A Blimpies.
That was actually on the back of the baseball jersey. On most of the kids, it went straight from shoulder to a sharp curve going down the back.
Of course, the biggest fund raiser of all at a park is the concession stand.
As most people now know, proper hydration is a important part of a child’s life. We are not quite sure what would happen if, by chance, a child sweats without having the proper follow through of grape Gatorade leaving the always popular, grape mustache on a kid’s face. The child would probably feel….thirsty.**
The concession stand not only sells drinks, it also sells gum, popcorn, soft drinks, coffee, candy, French fries, hamburgers (if you are lucky due to health laws), hot dogs, chicken fingers, salads, lottery tickets, pornographic magazines featuring Hot Moms Of The Park, et.al. Anything to help the park raise money. But never, ever, get behind a kid when they are ordering at the concession stand unless you happen to have four hours to kill.
If you give a six year old a dollar and tell them to get what they want they will walk up to the concession stand and slap the dollar on the counter and ask, “What can I get for a dollar”? (“Well, you can get a popcorn, a candy bar or you can get this photo of Mrs Hotski or a lottery ticket.”)
*At the insurance company I worked at, a personel weasel said in a staff meeting that it was against “Federal Law” (this person’s actual words, not mean humor-man funny words) to sell something at work. I got into a heated exchange of words, mentioning, for starters, that car salesman must be breaking the law more than we thought.
**This has nothing to do with Gatorade, but the funniest, yet oddest response I ever heard to a kid asking for a Powerade was this, and this is, I swear, verbatim. Kid: “Daddy, can I get a Powerade?” Daddy: “I’ll power your ade.” I think this meant no.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Real Time 24 Recap Hour 8
When we last left Jack Bauer, he was being led to the Russian Mafia’s headquarters, which is a restaurant that has no customers. This hour begins with the head Russian mobster, who just shot his son an hour before, questioning Jack. Jack, being Jack, does not give him any information.
So the Russians use a car battery and electrocute Jack. They hook it on his feet, put it in his stab wound, and apparently on his “little Jack”. When will the bad guys ever learn? You cannot destroy Jack; you can only make him stronger. While all of this torture is going on, the head Mobster finds the non-dead son and gives him the dead son’s cross. Touching.
Meanwhile, in the plot that won’t go away, Cletus and Jethro are using their ill gotten gain at a strip club. They call the Not That Hot Tech and announce that they ain’t goin away after all because this here is such a good idear. The Not That Hot Tech goes all hookey poolkey but Jethro grabs the phone and grunts out a threat. Things go from bad to worse for the Not That Hot Tech when Arlo, a nerd that wants her for his very own so he can share his Harry Potter drawings, tells her that if she doesn’t tell Agent Chico about what ever is going on, he will. Of course he does and then she wants to tell Agent Chico about, well, there was this robbery and was under age and it was in Hog Waller and that was before I went to computer skool. But, before she can say all of this, she has to get back to dumb old work and save the country.
Director Bubba advises President Woman that he thinks Jack is still alive because he wasn’t killed. Then he tells her about all the different kind of shrimps you can make. Fortunately, Director Bubba is right because after all of the electrocuting, Jack kills his Russian torturer with the patent “Jack Bauer Feet of Death”. Jack then proceeds to run around the restaurant with no shirt or shoes on, which is a health code violation. He manages to call CTU, get Agent Chico to come find him and then captures the Russian mobster.
Over at the UN, the A-rabs are talking about something and the daughter’s boyfriend has been arrested by President Poofy Hair. This is the part of “24” if you want to call your mom or flip over to the Olympics and watch curling, no one would blame you.
Jack begins to question the Russian mobster about the Nuclear Rods. He is not talking. Jack then calls President Woman and everybody comes to an agreement that this guy needs to be Mirandized and wait until his lawyer comes along. No, actually, he agrees to a “deal” with President Woman and soon we’re on our way to find the nuclear rods.
This episode ends with Agent Chico finding the truck the nuclear rods were in but the two Russians in the truck were killed by the Not Dead Son who is now taking the material to President Poofyhair's lame brain brother. On a lighter note, the Not That Hot Tech decides that she really needs to kill Cletus and Jethro making her another person I’m glad works for the Federal Government.
So the Russians use a car battery and electrocute Jack. They hook it on his feet, put it in his stab wound, and apparently on his “little Jack”. When will the bad guys ever learn? You cannot destroy Jack; you can only make him stronger. While all of this torture is going on, the head Mobster finds the non-dead son and gives him the dead son’s cross. Touching.
Meanwhile, in the plot that won’t go away, Cletus and Jethro are using their ill gotten gain at a strip club. They call the Not That Hot Tech and announce that they ain’t goin away after all because this here is such a good idear. The Not That Hot Tech goes all hookey poolkey but Jethro grabs the phone and grunts out a threat. Things go from bad to worse for the Not That Hot Tech when Arlo, a nerd that wants her for his very own so he can share his Harry Potter drawings, tells her that if she doesn’t tell Agent Chico about what ever is going on, he will. Of course he does and then she wants to tell Agent Chico about, well, there was this robbery and was under age and it was in Hog Waller and that was before I went to computer skool. But, before she can say all of this, she has to get back to dumb old work and save the country.
Director Bubba advises President Woman that he thinks Jack is still alive because he wasn’t killed. Then he tells her about all the different kind of shrimps you can make. Fortunately, Director Bubba is right because after all of the electrocuting, Jack kills his Russian torturer with the patent “Jack Bauer Feet of Death”. Jack then proceeds to run around the restaurant with no shirt or shoes on, which is a health code violation. He manages to call CTU, get Agent Chico to come find him and then captures the Russian mobster.
Over at the UN, the A-rabs are talking about something and the daughter’s boyfriend has been arrested by President Poofy Hair. This is the part of “24” if you want to call your mom or flip over to the Olympics and watch curling, no one would blame you.
Jack begins to question the Russian mobster about the Nuclear Rods. He is not talking. Jack then calls President Woman and everybody comes to an agreement that this guy needs to be Mirandized and wait until his lawyer comes along. No, actually, he agrees to a “deal” with President Woman and soon we’re on our way to find the nuclear rods.
This episode ends with Agent Chico finding the truck the nuclear rods were in but the two Russians in the truck were killed by the Not Dead Son who is now taking the material to President Poofyhair's lame brain brother. On a lighter note, the Not That Hot Tech decides that she really needs to kill Cletus and Jethro making her another person I’m glad works for the Federal Government.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Just Super
Last Sunday night, Americans gather around the electronic medium of television as one gigantic community to critique commercials.
In case you haven’t heard, The Super Bowl was played in between those commercials. In years past, the commercials have taken a decided comedic direction, if by direction one means hitting a man in the gonads.
This year the theme was: men like beer and lots of it. Also, candy can help you not play football like an eighty year old man or woman.
But in between the commercials a football game was played and it was a dandy.
For many, many years, The Super Bowl was the worst game of the year, even worse than the Pro Bowl, which sometimes features players wearing flip-flops and straw hats instead of cleats and helmets. Many of the bad Super Bowls featured the Buffalo Bills, a team which has a Buffalo on its helmet, but not a “Bill”. Which is like the Cleveland Browns whose helmet is orange. No wonder these franchises have a hard time.
However, in the past several years, The Super Bowl has lived up to its hype and has been a good game. In this year’s Super Bowl the Indiabaltimore Colts played the Destroyed by Katrina Saints. The Colts were led by a cyborg named Peyton Manning, while the Saints were led by Kim Kardashian and her gigantic booty.
Watching Peyton Manning play quarterback is like watching that Chef on “Hell’s Kitchen”. He runs around and points and stops and points again and yells and makes what my football expert wife calls “monkey motions”.
I was just joking when I said the Saints were led by Kim Kardashian and her large rump. They are led by Breeze Drews or Drew Brees - a man that was named like he was born in a soap opera.
The pregame ceremonies saw Queen Latifah (who elected her Queen anyway?) sing something I didn’t recognize and apparently she didn’t either. Then Carrie Underwood, who in this humble correspondent’s opinion is one hot chick, sang the National Anthem in an outfit that is best described as “Elvis in Outer Space”.
The game began and it chugged along with its critical moments, important plays and crucial second efforts. It looked for a while that Cyborg Manning was going to lead The Colts to their second Super Bowl victory in which his entire life would be vindicated as an immortal quarterback instead of a quarterback that has won one plain old Super Bowl.
At halftime, two elderly men appeared and began yelling at you. They were “The Who”, a band that was popular before the Super Bowl ever began. They sang a melody of their hits, beginning with “Pinball Wizard”, which is a great song but you have to explain to the younger generation what a pinball machine is and what made this deaf dumb and blind kid so good. And, just as a total coincidence, they played three of their hit songs which are the themes for the “CSI’ franchise of shows which just happens to appear on CBS, the same network that was broadcasting the game.
The Saints began the second half with an onside kick and really, after that, had control of the game. Robo Manning tried to bring them back in the waning minutes of the game, but ended up throwing an interception that sealed the win for the Saints.
The Saints have won their first Super Bowl. As my old pal Cole Rudder said ”I could not have named two Saints fans before this year started now apparently I know about a hundred of you”. How dat is possible, I don't know.
In case you haven’t heard, The Super Bowl was played in between those commercials. In years past, the commercials have taken a decided comedic direction, if by direction one means hitting a man in the gonads.
This year the theme was: men like beer and lots of it. Also, candy can help you not play football like an eighty year old man or woman.
But in between the commercials a football game was played and it was a dandy.
For many, many years, The Super Bowl was the worst game of the year, even worse than the Pro Bowl, which sometimes features players wearing flip-flops and straw hats instead of cleats and helmets. Many of the bad Super Bowls featured the Buffalo Bills, a team which has a Buffalo on its helmet, but not a “Bill”. Which is like the Cleveland Browns whose helmet is orange. No wonder these franchises have a hard time.
However, in the past several years, The Super Bowl has lived up to its hype and has been a good game. In this year’s Super Bowl the Indiabaltimore Colts played the Destroyed by Katrina Saints. The Colts were led by a cyborg named Peyton Manning, while the Saints were led by Kim Kardashian and her gigantic booty.
Watching Peyton Manning play quarterback is like watching that Chef on “Hell’s Kitchen”. He runs around and points and stops and points again and yells and makes what my football expert wife calls “monkey motions”.
I was just joking when I said the Saints were led by Kim Kardashian and her large rump. They are led by Breeze Drews or Drew Brees - a man that was named like he was born in a soap opera.
The pregame ceremonies saw Queen Latifah (who elected her Queen anyway?) sing something I didn’t recognize and apparently she didn’t either. Then Carrie Underwood, who in this humble correspondent’s opinion is one hot chick, sang the National Anthem in an outfit that is best described as “Elvis in Outer Space”.
The game began and it chugged along with its critical moments, important plays and crucial second efforts. It looked for a while that Cyborg Manning was going to lead The Colts to their second Super Bowl victory in which his entire life would be vindicated as an immortal quarterback instead of a quarterback that has won one plain old Super Bowl.
At halftime, two elderly men appeared and began yelling at you. They were “The Who”, a band that was popular before the Super Bowl ever began. They sang a melody of their hits, beginning with “Pinball Wizard”, which is a great song but you have to explain to the younger generation what a pinball machine is and what made this deaf dumb and blind kid so good. And, just as a total coincidence, they played three of their hit songs which are the themes for the “CSI’ franchise of shows which just happens to appear on CBS, the same network that was broadcasting the game.
The Saints began the second half with an onside kick and really, after that, had control of the game. Robo Manning tried to bring them back in the waning minutes of the game, but ended up throwing an interception that sealed the win for the Saints.
The Saints have won their first Super Bowl. As my old pal Cole Rudder said ”I could not have named two Saints fans before this year started now apparently I know about a hundred of you”. How dat is possible, I don't know.
Real Time 24 Recap Hour 7
When we last left 24, Jack was wearing his Harry Potter glasses to prove to some Russians that he is actually German. Renee had to give her all for the sake of the country, if you catch my drift, to Vladimir. The Not That Hot Tech hatched a plan to get her hillbilly ex boyfriend and his good buddy (who makes the ex seem like a MIT professor) some ill gotten gain so they will leave her alone and let her marry Agent Chico, who incidentally saved Jack’s butt with some fancy shootin’.
In this hour, Jack meets with Vladimir and is put off by Vlad’s public displays of affection for Agent Freckles. Vladimir begins dialing for nuclear rods or something and ring-a-dings the nutso Russian mafia guy. The Russian Mafia guy acts like he doesn’t know anything about it and for some reason sends some thugs over to Vlad’s place.
At the UN, President Woman is being her usual ineffective self. She spills the beans about the nuclear rods being on US soil to the British ambassador. Meanwhile, President Poofy Hair is still busy rounding up people he thinks could be a part of the conspiracy to blow him up. He’s still a little touchy about it. One person is his daughter’s boyfriend. Frankly this is the second lamest plot in the show and for some reason everyone whispers and it is hard to hear what is going on.
Cletus and Jethro finally make it to some po-lease warehouse that has all of this here money in it. The Not That Hot Tech has to practically lead them to the stash. They only have 15 minutes to get the cash and run, but, there just good old boys, never meanin’ no harm, been in trouble with the law since the day they were born. Well, they dilly and dally and almost get caught by Johnny Law. But they end up beating him up and making a clean get away.
This little episode takes up a lot of The Not That Hot Tech’s time. Even Director Bubba notices that she’s not all there. This causes Chloe to squint and look like she just ate a pickle.
You are probably thinking: man, nothing really happened in this hour of 24. You are so wrong
Vladimir called all of his contacts and still nobody knew how to get a hold of some nuclear rods. Agent Freckles wants him to call again. He gets mad and punches Freckles square in the face. Agent Freckles hops back up and stabs him like it was Friday the 13th. Jack bursts into the room and Freckles stabs him.
I thought this is it. I keep hearing rumors that Jack bites the big perimeter this year and I thought maybe they were going to kill him off early and let the rest of the season be about Freckles turning into a female Jack. That would be stupid, but TV has never been that smart (See Jay and Conan).
Fortunately, the other Russian goon runs in and Jack flicks the knife at him and kills him. Leading to the best refrain from James Lileks: “Jack Bauer takes a stickin and keeps on flickin’.
The Russian Mobster’s toadies drop by and Jack is taken hostage by them. He thinks CTU can follow them. Wrong. Seems New York has secret underground tunnels and they take Jack to their secret hideout via the underground tunnels.
Next Week: Jack gets the Ever-Ready treatment and Agent Chico finds out about the Not So Hot Tech’s double life.
In this hour, Jack meets with Vladimir and is put off by Vlad’s public displays of affection for Agent Freckles. Vladimir begins dialing for nuclear rods or something and ring-a-dings the nutso Russian mafia guy. The Russian Mafia guy acts like he doesn’t know anything about it and for some reason sends some thugs over to Vlad’s place.
At the UN, President Woman is being her usual ineffective self. She spills the beans about the nuclear rods being on US soil to the British ambassador. Meanwhile, President Poofy Hair is still busy rounding up people he thinks could be a part of the conspiracy to blow him up. He’s still a little touchy about it. One person is his daughter’s boyfriend. Frankly this is the second lamest plot in the show and for some reason everyone whispers and it is hard to hear what is going on.
Cletus and Jethro finally make it to some po-lease warehouse that has all of this here money in it. The Not That Hot Tech has to practically lead them to the stash. They only have 15 minutes to get the cash and run, but, there just good old boys, never meanin’ no harm, been in trouble with the law since the day they were born. Well, they dilly and dally and almost get caught by Johnny Law. But they end up beating him up and making a clean get away.
This little episode takes up a lot of The Not That Hot Tech’s time. Even Director Bubba notices that she’s not all there. This causes Chloe to squint and look like she just ate a pickle.
You are probably thinking: man, nothing really happened in this hour of 24. You are so wrong
Vladimir called all of his contacts and still nobody knew how to get a hold of some nuclear rods. Agent Freckles wants him to call again. He gets mad and punches Freckles square in the face. Agent Freckles hops back up and stabs him like it was Friday the 13th. Jack bursts into the room and Freckles stabs him.
I thought this is it. I keep hearing rumors that Jack bites the big perimeter this year and I thought maybe they were going to kill him off early and let the rest of the season be about Freckles turning into a female Jack. That would be stupid, but TV has never been that smart (See Jay and Conan).
Fortunately, the other Russian goon runs in and Jack flicks the knife at him and kills him. Leading to the best refrain from James Lileks: “Jack Bauer takes a stickin and keeps on flickin’.
The Russian Mobster’s toadies drop by and Jack is taken hostage by them. He thinks CTU can follow them. Wrong. Seems New York has secret underground tunnels and they take Jack to their secret hideout via the underground tunnels.
Next Week: Jack gets the Ever-Ready treatment and Agent Chico finds out about the Not So Hot Tech’s double life.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
More From "The Umpire Has A Mullet".
When the boys hit third grade, the park we were at allowed the kids to pitch to each other.
Out here is West Cobb, they just seem to grow them bigger. I mean, third graders wearing size 11 shoes. Third graders that have facial hair. Third graders that were, um, taller than me.
I am 5’6”. I did not choose this height. It’s not like I went into a store and said, “Gee I think I’ll be short because you can always find clothes in your size.”
No, height is all of part of what I call, “The Manis Theory of Relativity”. That is, if your parents are short, you will be short.
It was real disconcerting to me to walk up to an eight year old that is already 5’9” and in a size 11 shoe and hear him talk about how mean Angelica is to Tommy Pickle. I thought he should be talking about stocks and bonds.
Our team that year was The Facility Group Angels, sponsored by the building and design firm that my wife works for. My company, FarrotFace Insurance would not sponsor a team because they were protective of their company’s image, except when it came time to close offices and move those jobs to India where people with thick Indian accents answer the phone and tell you their name is Ashely, when you know good and well it isn’t. Not that I’m bitter.
Anyway, this was going to be an important year for us because this is when Ben wasn’t going to be at the mercy of the pitching problems of an adult. Plus the kids were going to be able to steal. And our head coach’s name was Doug.
At our first practice, I was watching all of our players and thought they looked like a good bunch of third graders. I then looked over to field next to us and watched another group of third graders practicing. Except they did not look like third graders. They looked like college sophomores. I had a feeling our team was going to be in trouble that year.
I was a little apprehensive too, because this was the year people started dropping out of baseball.
I was never one of those parents who forces my kid to do anything except eat,sleep, bathe, go to school, brush his teeth, and lay around the house watching “Rocco’s Modern Life.” Okay, I did force my kid to listen to a Bob Dylan CD, once. But, hey, it was “Love and Theft”, a pretty good album. Besides, he was still in his Backstreet Boys/N’Sync phase at the time. Girls, you didn’t know he listen to the Backstreet Boys? Oh, he did alright.
But I really wanted him to play baseball mainly because if he quit it would reflect that I am a gigantic wiennie. Plus, I wanted him to grow into a professional baseball player that would make millions of dollars batting .245. I think I also had a SUV dream in there too. Maybe even a shoe commercial.
The fly in the ointment was in the previous fall ball season Ben faced live kid pitching and did not get a single hit.
Hitting was always a problem for Ben. One time, when he was in first grade, I decided to take him to the back yard and throw him some batting practice with tennis balls. Bumpkis. Did not hit a single pitch. The Norman Rockwell painting of “Dad Throw Batting Practice To A First Grader” was soon replaced by a modern art painting called “Dad Screaming ‘Watch The Dang Ball With Kid Answering ‘I Am!’. I grew weary of this and decided to take another tactic.
I got on my knees maybe ten to fifteen from him and said, “Now Ben, I’m going to under hand you the ball and you hit it”. My plan was to get his confidence back by letting him hit some balls, then back up a little bit further at a time until I could go back pitching at my regular spot.
First ball: BOOM! Hits the ball solid and it hits me square on the face. I was wearing glasses at the time-the glasses went straight in the air. I went straight back. I did not know a first grader could hit a tennis ball so hard.
Ben, of course, thought this was the funniest thing he ever saw. I’m sure that this had happened more often in a game, he would have enjoyed it better.
The first game of the Real season (fall ball doesn’t count) comes and it is in March. It is one of those weird March days in which it feels like December. It had to be 35 degrees. Some kids were playing with their winter coats on.
We were playing the team with the Famous Man on it.
When I was growing up, I knew nobody that was on TV or played professional sports. Everyone I knew either worked at Lockheed or in some way was involved in the Ministry.
Now, as an adult, I’ve met several ex-professional athletes and several people that have jobs on TV. Famous Man had a sportscasting job on TV and he is everything I am not: Tall, good looking, and rich. He had a good tan, too
He drove a huge SUV. One of those SUVs that takes up a lane and a half and has a truck in front of it with a sign reading “Wide Load”. This SUV had leather everything, including wind shield wipers. It also had two DVD/TV sets and a Starbucks. This guy was as loaded as a concrete bag.
My favorite story about this guy took place the previous fall. The Atlanta Braves were making their annual run at the World Series and part of the Famous Man’s job was to cover the Series for his Network. But, one thing I will give Famous Man: he always tried to make his kid’s game, which I thought was great, because if I was that Tall, good looking, rich, with a huge car, the last place I would be is at a Recreational baseball park.
So, we are having this game going on and in walks Famous Man.
This is 1999. The male fashion was black on black, like Regis Philben, which shows you how nuts things were back then: we were taking our fashion cues from Regis Philben.
Famous Man was wearing black on black on black. He had a black suit, black tie, black shirt, black overcoat, and he was wearing black sunglasses. Johnny Cash would have told him to add a splash of color. He looked like the Little League Coach of The Matrix.
Fast Forward to the spring of 2000 and we’re playing in the awful cold. Famous Man is wearing a long sleeve black t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. His team looks pretty good and the Facility Group Angles look pretty bad.
The other team’s pitcher is a hard throwing left hander. First pitch, Ben hit a line drive up the middle for a base hit. I’m seeing million dollar contracts. Maybe I could buy a car like the Famous Man.
However, during this season, Ben got three other hits. Two of those were bunts. In the same game.
Not that it was that bad. In the first year of kid pitch, any hit is a good hit because a kid rarely gets anything good to hit.
The pitchers are assigned by this athletic survey: “Hey, can Tater pitch?” Actually, the way kids become pitchers is through e-mails, phone calls, and personal confrontations between the parents and the coach wanting to know when Tater is going to pitch.
Hey Coach!!!*
Great game!! Too bad we lost 40-0!!! Maybe you could try Tater at pitcher, just to see if he can do it. Then maybe your kid wouldn’t blubber like a girl on the mound.
Tater’s Mom
Tater’s Mom,
I have Tater scheduled to pitch against the Smith’s Foods DBA Blimpies Devil Rays. For the record, my Shane was not crying—he got some dirt in his eye which triggered his tuberculosis.
Coach Bob
Coach Bob!!
We have already played the Devil Rays!!! You are a dimwit!!!! Here’s a riddle: What’s fat and has spider veins??? Your wife!!!!!
Tater’s Mom
Tater’s Mom,
I got a riddle for you: What to you call a man that sleeps with other men? Tater’s Dad.
This goes on and on for days until coach Bob and Tater’s mom have a cuss fight in front of the concession stand. Tater and his folks go to another park where, at least according to Tater’s mom in their annual Christmas card, Tater is the STAR PLAYER (!!!)
The strike zone in first year kid pitch is eye brows to the ankles. Unless the batter is good. Then for some reason it shrinks to major league standards. This causes the games to last a long time because there is always some rec league rule that you can’t end a game on time.
One time, and this is no joke, we have a Facility Group Angels game last until 10:30 at night. We had 480 walks. Ben tagged somebody out while he was playing third base for the last out of the game and I swear I saw the umpire look at his watch before the call.
The season went on and on and on. And the Facility Group Angels got beat and beat and beat. We won three games that year. My favorite win was when the Angels only got two hits in the game, both by the same kid (who, incidentally, was the smallest boy on the team) and won the game 8-7.
This was also the season my wife broke her elbow at work. I know this doesn’t have too much to do with baseball, but I have to help her with her hair in the morning and if that doesn’t get me into the Husband Hall of Fame, nothing will.
Out here is West Cobb, they just seem to grow them bigger. I mean, third graders wearing size 11 shoes. Third graders that have facial hair. Third graders that were, um, taller than me.
I am 5’6”. I did not choose this height. It’s not like I went into a store and said, “Gee I think I’ll be short because you can always find clothes in your size.”
No, height is all of part of what I call, “The Manis Theory of Relativity”. That is, if your parents are short, you will be short.
It was real disconcerting to me to walk up to an eight year old that is already 5’9” and in a size 11 shoe and hear him talk about how mean Angelica is to Tommy Pickle. I thought he should be talking about stocks and bonds.
Our team that year was The Facility Group Angels, sponsored by the building and design firm that my wife works for. My company, FarrotFace Insurance would not sponsor a team because they were protective of their company’s image, except when it came time to close offices and move those jobs to India where people with thick Indian accents answer the phone and tell you their name is Ashely, when you know good and well it isn’t. Not that I’m bitter.
Anyway, this was going to be an important year for us because this is when Ben wasn’t going to be at the mercy of the pitching problems of an adult. Plus the kids were going to be able to steal. And our head coach’s name was Doug.
At our first practice, I was watching all of our players and thought they looked like a good bunch of third graders. I then looked over to field next to us and watched another group of third graders practicing. Except they did not look like third graders. They looked like college sophomores. I had a feeling our team was going to be in trouble that year.
I was a little apprehensive too, because this was the year people started dropping out of baseball.
I was never one of those parents who forces my kid to do anything except eat,sleep, bathe, go to school, brush his teeth, and lay around the house watching “Rocco’s Modern Life.” Okay, I did force my kid to listen to a Bob Dylan CD, once. But, hey, it was “Love and Theft”, a pretty good album. Besides, he was still in his Backstreet Boys/N’Sync phase at the time. Girls, you didn’t know he listen to the Backstreet Boys? Oh, he did alright.
But I really wanted him to play baseball mainly because if he quit it would reflect that I am a gigantic wiennie. Plus, I wanted him to grow into a professional baseball player that would make millions of dollars batting .245. I think I also had a SUV dream in there too. Maybe even a shoe commercial.
The fly in the ointment was in the previous fall ball season Ben faced live kid pitching and did not get a single hit.
Hitting was always a problem for Ben. One time, when he was in first grade, I decided to take him to the back yard and throw him some batting practice with tennis balls. Bumpkis. Did not hit a single pitch. The Norman Rockwell painting of “Dad Throw Batting Practice To A First Grader” was soon replaced by a modern art painting called “Dad Screaming ‘Watch The Dang Ball With Kid Answering ‘I Am!’. I grew weary of this and decided to take another tactic.
I got on my knees maybe ten to fifteen from him and said, “Now Ben, I’m going to under hand you the ball and you hit it”. My plan was to get his confidence back by letting him hit some balls, then back up a little bit further at a time until I could go back pitching at my regular spot.
First ball: BOOM! Hits the ball solid and it hits me square on the face. I was wearing glasses at the time-the glasses went straight in the air. I went straight back. I did not know a first grader could hit a tennis ball so hard.
Ben, of course, thought this was the funniest thing he ever saw. I’m sure that this had happened more often in a game, he would have enjoyed it better.
The first game of the Real season (fall ball doesn’t count) comes and it is in March. It is one of those weird March days in which it feels like December. It had to be 35 degrees. Some kids were playing with their winter coats on.
We were playing the team with the Famous Man on it.
When I was growing up, I knew nobody that was on TV or played professional sports. Everyone I knew either worked at Lockheed or in some way was involved in the Ministry.
Now, as an adult, I’ve met several ex-professional athletes and several people that have jobs on TV. Famous Man had a sportscasting job on TV and he is everything I am not: Tall, good looking, and rich. He had a good tan, too
He drove a huge SUV. One of those SUVs that takes up a lane and a half and has a truck in front of it with a sign reading “Wide Load”. This SUV had leather everything, including wind shield wipers. It also had two DVD/TV sets and a Starbucks. This guy was as loaded as a concrete bag.
My favorite story about this guy took place the previous fall. The Atlanta Braves were making their annual run at the World Series and part of the Famous Man’s job was to cover the Series for his Network. But, one thing I will give Famous Man: he always tried to make his kid’s game, which I thought was great, because if I was that Tall, good looking, rich, with a huge car, the last place I would be is at a Recreational baseball park.
So, we are having this game going on and in walks Famous Man.
This is 1999. The male fashion was black on black, like Regis Philben, which shows you how nuts things were back then: we were taking our fashion cues from Regis Philben.
Famous Man was wearing black on black on black. He had a black suit, black tie, black shirt, black overcoat, and he was wearing black sunglasses. Johnny Cash would have told him to add a splash of color. He looked like the Little League Coach of The Matrix.
Fast Forward to the spring of 2000 and we’re playing in the awful cold. Famous Man is wearing a long sleeve black t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. His team looks pretty good and the Facility Group Angles look pretty bad.
The other team’s pitcher is a hard throwing left hander. First pitch, Ben hit a line drive up the middle for a base hit. I’m seeing million dollar contracts. Maybe I could buy a car like the Famous Man.
However, during this season, Ben got three other hits. Two of those were bunts. In the same game.
Not that it was that bad. In the first year of kid pitch, any hit is a good hit because a kid rarely gets anything good to hit.
The pitchers are assigned by this athletic survey: “Hey, can Tater pitch?” Actually, the way kids become pitchers is through e-mails, phone calls, and personal confrontations between the parents and the coach wanting to know when Tater is going to pitch.
Hey Coach!!!*
Great game!! Too bad we lost 40-0!!! Maybe you could try Tater at pitcher, just to see if he can do it. Then maybe your kid wouldn’t blubber like a girl on the mound.
Tater’s Mom
Tater’s Mom,
I have Tater scheduled to pitch against the Smith’s Foods DBA Blimpies Devil Rays. For the record, my Shane was not crying—he got some dirt in his eye which triggered his tuberculosis.
Coach Bob
Coach Bob!!
We have already played the Devil Rays!!! You are a dimwit!!!! Here’s a riddle: What’s fat and has spider veins??? Your wife!!!!!
Tater’s Mom
Tater’s Mom,
I got a riddle for you: What to you call a man that sleeps with other men? Tater’s Dad.
This goes on and on for days until coach Bob and Tater’s mom have a cuss fight in front of the concession stand. Tater and his folks go to another park where, at least according to Tater’s mom in their annual Christmas card, Tater is the STAR PLAYER (!!!)
The strike zone in first year kid pitch is eye brows to the ankles. Unless the batter is good. Then for some reason it shrinks to major league standards. This causes the games to last a long time because there is always some rec league rule that you can’t end a game on time.
One time, and this is no joke, we have a Facility Group Angels game last until 10:30 at night. We had 480 walks. Ben tagged somebody out while he was playing third base for the last out of the game and I swear I saw the umpire look at his watch before the call.
The season went on and on and on. And the Facility Group Angels got beat and beat and beat. We won three games that year. My favorite win was when the Angels only got two hits in the game, both by the same kid (who, incidentally, was the smallest boy on the team) and won the game 8-7.
This was also the season my wife broke her elbow at work. I know this doesn’t have too much to do with baseball, but I have to help her with her hair in the morning and if that doesn’t get me into the Husband Hall of Fame, nothing will.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Real Time 24 Recap Hour 6
It has come to my attention that there are those who have never seen an episode of 24. Here is a brief description.
24 is about what happens in a twenty-four hour period of time in the life of Jack Bauer, who is insane. He is also the only thing that keeps the United States safe from various terrorists who tend not to be radical Arab Muslims. He is an agent in the Counter Terrorism Unit, which works as well as most branches of government. So far, they have allowed a nuclear bomb to go off in Los Angeles, two passenger planes to crash into each other, an attack on the Russian ambassador, and a deadly nerve gas attacked the CTU office that not only killed Edgar (one of the few in CTU that you could have possibly worked with) but also Rudy, our favorite scout team player with Notre Dame.
Jack Bauer is aided by Chloe, a sour faced computer tech who can download schematics to Jack’s PDA in seconds. Jack has also been romantically involved with Audrey Raines, who makes Chloe seem like Jessica Simpson. Audrey went insane a couple of hours (years) ago, but you can never discount her from showing up again, whining at Jack about not getting a Pro Flowers gift basket or something like that for her birthday.
The Wikipedia page on 24 says, “A recurring theme is characters being forced to allow tragic events to happen for the sake of a greater good.” Another recurring theme is shooting people in the thigh to get the answer you want.
In Hour 5, the only person in the United States that could go undercover and find the Russian mafia and saw off a person’s thumb is about as crazy as a betsy bug, but Agent Freckles has a way of working to get the deal done.
The Russian mobster named, Vladmir (if you can believe it) is more than happy to hear about the deal for nuclear weapons that Freckles is pitching him. He agrees to the deal only if the buyer (Undercover Jack) pays him $5 million dollars. Somehow in the midst of this, Agent Freckles and Vladmir have a really quick perestrokia and Freckles puts her super-duper hearing aid down the sink. Now Jack has no idea what is going on, but at least he doesn’t have to hear all of that Moscow Lovey-Dovey.
One fly in the ointment. Vladmir plans on killing Jack after the money is transferred to all of these different bank accounts.
Meanwhile back in boredom land, Islamic President Boofy Hair is still cracking down on dissidents that he began cracking down on in hour five. He does this despite the ‘look’ President Woman gave him last week. The European Community tells ones of his aides that this might wreck the peace process, like that hasn’t been heard before in the Middle East.
The redneck plot keeps barrling along like a drunk NASCAR driver. The Not That Hot Tech sets up a heist for Cletus and Jethro to do so she can get back to her duties of saving the world. To top that off, the pathetic Man tech is pining for her (despite her engagement to Agent Chico) and is using his best lines like “If I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” He monitors the Not That Hot Tech and sees her with Cletus and Jethro. He asks Chole about it and she gets all snippy about men looking at women’s rear ends like it is some kind of crime. And then, Chole walks off and he stares at Chole’s bottom, showing how truly pathetic he is.
Vladmir sends his toady with two other goons out to meet Undercover Jack (whose disguise is a pair of Harry Potter glasses). After the money is transferred, the goons pull a gun on Jack, but they are shot by Agent Chico. Jack gets the toady to take him to Vladmir and Freckles.
Meanwhile, the other Russian plot has Daddy Russian kill sick kid Russian. Now that is a dysfunctional family.
24 is about what happens in a twenty-four hour period of time in the life of Jack Bauer, who is insane. He is also the only thing that keeps the United States safe from various terrorists who tend not to be radical Arab Muslims. He is an agent in the Counter Terrorism Unit, which works as well as most branches of government. So far, they have allowed a nuclear bomb to go off in Los Angeles, two passenger planes to crash into each other, an attack on the Russian ambassador, and a deadly nerve gas attacked the CTU office that not only killed Edgar (one of the few in CTU that you could have possibly worked with) but also Rudy, our favorite scout team player with Notre Dame.
Jack Bauer is aided by Chloe, a sour faced computer tech who can download schematics to Jack’s PDA in seconds. Jack has also been romantically involved with Audrey Raines, who makes Chloe seem like Jessica Simpson. Audrey went insane a couple of hours (years) ago, but you can never discount her from showing up again, whining at Jack about not getting a Pro Flowers gift basket or something like that for her birthday.
The Wikipedia page on 24 says, “A recurring theme is characters being forced to allow tragic events to happen for the sake of a greater good.” Another recurring theme is shooting people in the thigh to get the answer you want.
In Hour 5, the only person in the United States that could go undercover and find the Russian mafia and saw off a person’s thumb is about as crazy as a betsy bug, but Agent Freckles has a way of working to get the deal done.
The Russian mobster named, Vladmir (if you can believe it) is more than happy to hear about the deal for nuclear weapons that Freckles is pitching him. He agrees to the deal only if the buyer (Undercover Jack) pays him $5 million dollars. Somehow in the midst of this, Agent Freckles and Vladmir have a really quick perestrokia and Freckles puts her super-duper hearing aid down the sink. Now Jack has no idea what is going on, but at least he doesn’t have to hear all of that Moscow Lovey-Dovey.
One fly in the ointment. Vladmir plans on killing Jack after the money is transferred to all of these different bank accounts.
Meanwhile back in boredom land, Islamic President Boofy Hair is still cracking down on dissidents that he began cracking down on in hour five. He does this despite the ‘look’ President Woman gave him last week. The European Community tells ones of his aides that this might wreck the peace process, like that hasn’t been heard before in the Middle East.
The redneck plot keeps barrling along like a drunk NASCAR driver. The Not That Hot Tech sets up a heist for Cletus and Jethro to do so she can get back to her duties of saving the world. To top that off, the pathetic Man tech is pining for her (despite her engagement to Agent Chico) and is using his best lines like “If I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?” He monitors the Not That Hot Tech and sees her with Cletus and Jethro. He asks Chole about it and she gets all snippy about men looking at women’s rear ends like it is some kind of crime. And then, Chole walks off and he stares at Chole’s bottom, showing how truly pathetic he is.
Vladmir sends his toady with two other goons out to meet Undercover Jack (whose disguise is a pair of Harry Potter glasses). After the money is transferred, the goons pull a gun on Jack, but they are shot by Agent Chico. Jack gets the toady to take him to Vladmir and Freckles.
Meanwhile, the other Russian plot has Daddy Russian kill sick kid Russian. Now that is a dysfunctional family.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
