Sunday, September 30, 2007

The Definitive 1000

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

#982a - It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia
#982b - Charlie

If you do not cap off your Thursday nights with possibly the finest comedy on television right now, your life is probably a vast, empty wasteland of vast emptiness.

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is a comedic tour de force. It is probably one of the best written shows on TV right now, and since it's on FX they can pretty much get away with anything.

Case in point:

But the true standout in this show is Charlie.


Charlie Writes a Script for Dennis

Charlie Shares a Touching Moment

Charlie's Gay?

Charlie is Green Man

And still my personal favorite: ROCK, FLAG, EAGLE!

I love these posts where the presented material speaks for itself...

Watch It's Always Sunny, Thursdays on FX at 10 pm.

Postcards from Tulsa...

Yee-Haw! Just wanted to drop in and send ya an E-lek-tronic message from deep inside the compound, 40 feet below the earth.

You really should visit. It's lovely weather on the surface I've heard perhaps.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Pennsylvania Ninjas to World: Menthol Crane style beats Sunoco Lotus style

Fed up with Pennsylvania Ninjas and trained by Halo 3, local store owners draw the line.

Pennsylvania Ninjas shock the world as they confirm their existance with daring raid on fuel giant Sunoco:

FFMatt and guest commentator Angus McCloud postulate on ninja modus operandi...

Angus McCloud
: The cash and cigarettes I can understand. A ninja’s gotta get his (her) smoke on. But I don’t think they went in there for lottery tickets. Here’s how I think it went down:

Ninja 1: Dis lobbely!
Clerk: Huh?
Ninja 2: Lobbely! Lobbely!
Clerk: Lottery?
Ninja 1: Yeah, lobbely!
Clerk: Pick 6 or scratch off?

FF Matt: Totally. Ninjas adapt and take risks...

Angus McCloud: I’m still trying to piece together the would-be ninjas mindset leading up to the lobbely:

Ninja 1: What you want to do?
Ninja 2: Scale wall with bare hands?
Ninja 1: No.
Ninja 2: Battle to death with skilled opponent?
Ninja 1: Uh-uh.
Ninja 2: Well, what you want to do?
Ninja 1: Need smoke while think about it. Get sword. Come with me.
Ninja Mom: You stay out trouble! You home by ereven!

FFMatt: Spot on. I'd love to see Ninjas cashing in lottery tickets too:

Ninja 1: Dish winnah?
Clerk: No
Ninja 2: Dish?
Clerk: Nope.
Ninja 1: Dish one winnah.
Clerk: No it's not.
Ninja 2: Hm?
Clerk: That's not a winner either.
Ninja 1 (posing): aaaaAAAAAWWWWW! DISH ONE!?!
Clerk: You won a dollar.
Ninja 2: How much new ticket?!?
Clerk: A dollar.
Ninja 1: We take.
Ninja 2: That one winnah?
Clerk: Sigh
Ninja 1: No... not winnah
Clerk (walking away): I'm going on break.
Ninja 2: You have smoke bomb?
Ninja 1: Yes but he alwidy gone.
Ninja 2: For camera shtupid. Got transpass?
Ninja 1: I fought you did?!?
Ninja 2: Sigh. Take token. Pay back. (smoke bomb goes off, camera view goes grey, door dings)

If you see a Pennsylvania Ninja DO NOT APPROACH IT as it is considered fur-bearing and trapping one requires a permit.

Search Ninja plus women = a crapload of Hentai and this chick. So brains here gets the nod. Big ups to

Friday, September 28, 2007


SCENE: Red curtain across large stage. Three caricatures attached to the fabric, all illuminated by spotlights. The caricatures are those of Matt, Sweaty and Jewbacca. A murmur goes through the SRO crowd.

Announcer: [accompanied by tympani roll] Ladies and Gentlemen…welcome to the Friendly Friends 100th Post Super-Spectacular.

[loud applause, curtain rises, three awesomely handsome figures stride across the stage to overstuffed, leather Lazy Boys recliners. They meet the gaze of their adoring public, causing Sweaty to immediately drown the first two rows of tarp-covered fans]

Jewbacca: Thank you. Thank you. We would not be here if it weren’t for you. And by “you” I mean Google’s Blogspot. And all of those who shaped our worldviews. And by “worldviews” I mean unbelievably strange senses of humor. We’d like to share some of our favorite moments from the last 100 posts.

FFMatt: I'm not wearing pants tonight... you're welcome.

Sweaty Irishman: (Teary eyed and standing silently while holding a blistering hot dish of Buffalo Chicken dip, and of course...sweating)

Jewbacca: But first, a moment of silence please. Today we also mourn the loss of the_undercover-pissah who may or may not have just actually been a Buffalo-Chicken Dip fueled figment of our collective imagination.

Sweaty Irishman: I am pretty sure he was real. I did after all send him a check for $10,000. He said it was for some sort of hair regrowth system that involved a burlap sack, some maple syrup and a wolverine.

[The Friendly Friends pour out some of their 40’s of Miller High Life]

Pissah, we'll mourn ya til we join ya

Pissah, wherever you are, you’re certainly there. And also, a quick get well to Shamalama who apparently only files reports when he’s come down from his free-based Twinkie-filling high. We’re pulling for you bro.

Sweaty Irishman: I actually heard that he has started a new religous cult. They apparently stole that Tiger Bus monster truck and have taken up shelter on a small Island off the coast of Tulsa, OK. They eat only leafy greens and peanut chews and spend 9 hours a day in an intense ritual worshiping former mediocre baseball player, Vance Law.

FFMatt, punching the air: Don't you all just hate pants?!? Man!

Jewbacca: So without further ado….THE FRIENDLY FRIENDS’ 100th POST SUPER-SPECTACULAR!!!

“That's A Mascot???? I Thought I Saw Him On To Catch a Predator.”

Jewbacca says: This post really captures all that is beneficent of my chosen craft as one who crafts a web-log. It is sensed in all capillaries of my being, my very earthy core, my beating-living-breathing heart that this particular outpouring of my soul is verily the finest example of my craft. I strive mightily ‘ere long to bring forth my true self and pour it liberally upon the cathode ray tubes of the universe. And I believe in every fiber of my very being that this is one of those times.

FFMatt says: Jewie-Jew Jew knocked it out of the park with this one. Nobody uncovers the dirty underbelly of mascots better than him. That sounded really gay but it stands.

Sweaty Irishman: This particular entry cut me deep. Beautifully written and a chilling story. I think it also may have brought to the foreground some surpressed childhood memories of the Philly Phanatic. All I see is a Veterans Stadium bathroom stall and a furious barage of green fuzzy felt and that pop out tongue. My god the tongue!

Steely McBeam's former place of employment...

The Entire Definitive 1000

Jewbacca says:

Awesome idea/
Three guys decide what is cool/
These things are Da Bomb

FFMatt: It’s about the road, not the destination and suka blogs trying to front are the roadkill.

Sweaty Irishman: I would like to thank the people for making The Definitive 1000 possible. You are what make it all worth while and you will be number 24 on our list. You or Shirley's a toss up.

“Sweaty Irishman Thoughts: The exact moment I knew I was out of my element.”

Jewbacca says: What ho! And such fine salutations to you as well, kind sir. I see that Jove has smiled upon thee, to-day!

Well, that is correct good sir. Our beloved Queen Victoria has blest the company vis-à-vis the India rubber contracting, which shall be carried through J.R.F. Robbins & Sons, Co. Ltd., merely the finest dry-good purveyors in all of East Anglia.

Now, this telegram which I received just this noontime was verily a surprise. I must admit my astonishment that you would have boarded the steam-ship to the wilds of America and had such a frightful run-in with the native fauna. Reminds one of the savages we faced with our musketry and cannon in the darkest reaches of Siam, does it not? Remember those moist nights when the coyotes would a-howl all eve, and I would nestle you to my bosom in a gesture of brotherhood and protection? Excelsior!

FFMatt: this is probably one of the best descriptions of self-awareness I’ve read. I’d add that at any time I was only really worried for Sweaty because if there was ever a baby that could take on a mountain lion then it’d have to be Sweaty Jr., who I can just see riding one out of the treeline, bareback and laughing, atop a frothing cougar, fistful of fur and skree skittering.

Sweaty Irishman: I left one part out of this story. I actually did encounter a mountain lion. I remembered the wise words of Sam Neil who said "Its vision is based on movement." I stood still with my infant son for 7 hours staring directly into the eyes of the mighty beast. Turned out to be an illegal immigrant. He stole my hubcaps and my dignity.

Donnie, too, was out of his element...

“Dead Humans Can't Find This Funny”

Jewbacca says: Matt’s funny.

Sweaty Irishman: My cousin Matt is STILL funny. Come and meet him.

"...Costner was a total douche but I was in Sneakers which was great... HEY! You aren't listening to me!!!"

“Who really runs things in Florida...”

Jewbacca says: This post keeps my bases filled like the New York Mets. It brought the funky singin’ like Miss Vinia Mojica. It raised the levels of the boom inside the ear. Just like Ringling Brothers it dazed and astounded, it captivated the masses cause the prose is profound. It’s prominent like Shakespeare. It floats like gravity, never had a cavity and its got more rhymes than the one’s got family. Excuse me if I’m chillin’ hey what, say what?

FFMatt: Back in the days when I was a teenager, before I had status and before I had a pager, you could find the Abstract listen’ to hip hop, my pops used to say it reminded him of be-bop… well simple daddy don’t you know things go in cycles the way that Bobby Brown’s just ampin’ like Michael… white porcelain.

Sweaty Irishman: I am writing a movie about this guy. The working title is White Porcelain/Black Heart

Washercat is impressed by white porcelain.

Definitive 1000- “Box the Robot”

FF Matt says: The Definitive 1000 been mentioned already by Jewbacca but I’d like to point out that Box the Robot, our inaugural # 1000, has completely haunted us. Roscoe Lee Brown, aka clunky silver weirdo, died shortly after the post went up about his performance in Logan’s Run. At no time will it be made any clearer as to the power we wield through the Internets… this was a shot across your bow.

Is that shiny freak still behind me??

“Celebrities That Probably Smell: Kris Kristofferson and Barbra Streisand”

Jewbacca says: It’s like I’m there. Don’t be alarmed dear reader, but I think Matt has perfected time travel somehow and regularly returns to the 70’s to ascertain what celebrities smelled like. He scares me and at the same time….I am drawn inexplicably to him. I cannot resist.

FFMatt: This will be the year that you won’t want to inhale, this I promise.

Sweaty Irishman: We will spend the rest of our Blogging Lives trying to top the untoppable first entry in Celebrities That Probably Smell. Well Done FFMatt. The contact high I got even from looking at a picture of Babs' perm made me dizzy for 3 days.

A gay steel mill AND Barbra? Yeesh.

“A Brief Glimpse Into the Distant Past”

FFMatt says: I think this is the talkies version of what we do here and nothing will ever be truer outside of the image of three tapirs snorting over some dusty berries on the ground.

Jewbacca: Thank you for being here, ladies and gentlemen. Drive safely and we look forward to bringing you the next 100 posts.

The moment you've all been waiting for...a pointless picture of hot chicks. Although, not really all that pointless when you consider it came from a GIS for "Super-Spectacular"

Friday, September 14, 2007

Congratulations Mr. Goodell...YOU BLEW IT.

Today, I have one question that is bugging the hell out of me:

If NFL players get suspended for actions detrimental to the game when they commit acts off the field, how are Bill Belichick's actions in spying on the Jets less detrimental to the game?

The NFL and more directly, Roger Goodell dropped the ball in a very big way on this one. How does an NFL head coach who gets caught cheating (let's call it what it is) not get suspended? Any player who runs afoul of the law off the field seems to get some length of suspension under the guise of protecting the integrity of the game.

Then why should the head coach of arguably one of the most marketable and recognizable teams in the league get off with paying a fine and losing a draft pick for an action on the field that directly attacks the integrity of the game? How could he not be facing a lengthy suspension? Arguably his actions have harmed the integrity of the game far more severely than any of the off-the-field actions of PacMan Jones, Tank Johnson, almost the whole Cincinnati Bengals and even Michael Vick. We're talking cheating that very likely affected the outcomes of games including various Super Bowls.

(As an aside, I am an Eagles fan. I would like to go on record saying that the Fat Walrus and our QB were the reasons the Eagles lost the Super Bowl. NOT cheating by Belichick)

And I will not buy the argument that that punishment outweighs the crime since he is the leader of the team and the chief decision maker, whereas a player is just a cog in the machine. If a head coach is cheating, then he does not deserve to be involved with any team activities for the length of a suspension. If a head coach decides to rely on cheating to win games, then he cannot be allowed to have any involvement with his team. How can the league maintain any semblance of fairness otherwise?

And for getting to the end of this post....CHEERLEADERS!!!!

"Cheating soooo changes the game. Uck, sha? No it sooo doesn't. Uh, yeah-ah, it sooo does..."

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Where I Was When it Happened

I worked at Duron Paints in Center City, Philadelphia. It was a factory of sorts and Howard Stern was a morning norm. I was busy working on a grumpy tinting machine in the back when I heard them doing a bit about a plane hitting the WTC.


And what seemed now to be painfully slow, but in retrospect felt pretty quick, Stern confirmed that it actually happened… and said so. Just a few minutes and it was all real.


I brought out a small black and white TV, put it on the front counter and turned it on. Sweaty contractors were still coming in for their morning orders and we were all in the midst of deciding what was going on. Within minutes of watching and sweating silently together the second plane hit. We all thought it was a replay of the first until it was pointed out the other tower was already burning.

When the towers came down some contractors were crying. Work stopped. People looked at each other and we all felt it. And stopped talking.

We stood dumbstruck; furious, helpless, speechless and numb by what was happening to others and so to us all. The whole city was shut down by the mayor and everyone fled with an eye on the tallest buildings in the center of the city as if it they would wake up and lay down on us all in a reverse A-bomb of rocks and dust.

I rode my bike in that day and when I left (after the traffic storm) I rode up the River Drive and it was like a still life. Little cars or people around, even the Schuylkill River seemed still and mute to let you imagine you can feel the rumble from Manhatten.

My daughter was a few weeks old and my sister was still in the air, flying back from an overseas rowing meet in Taiwan. My wife’s brother was down in Cherry Point, out of Marine boot and ready for his first float overseas… he was embarking on the ship when the planes hit. The in-laws, having dropped him off the day before and then leaving the motel that morning, were on the beltway when the Pentagon was hit. Nobody knew what was happening with my sister, my brother-in-law or my wife’s parents.
You had to sit quietly and take the medicine. You couldn’t change any of it.

Lives stopped that day. Even for those that lived.

So today is about how you got started again and maybe, what it all means. I think it’s about realizing you have to care about others in a world that is more crowded, loud and strange than ever. Caring is more than respect, it’s a survival skill wrapped in the medicine that destroys the things that cause everything bad that we hope never happens to us to come true.

It’s also about knowing that not everyone will do the same for you but you have to keep at it, especially when it seems useless... that's when the difference is made.

So here’s to not stopping, to all those who lost their lives on 9-11 and to people like you that keep up the change for the better.
It’s how we stop just surviving and we all start living.

Monday, September 10, 2007

When Songs Get Stuck In My Head, Part 382

I usually wake up with a song stuck in my head. It is totally and completely random what song it is. I wake up to news radio, so it has nothing to do with what's playing on my alarm clock.

For some bizarre reason, this song was playing at volume 11 in my head this morning when I awoke, leading me to sing it to myself all day long:

Punk Rock Girl, Dead Milkmen

And after spending a full day with it playing on an endless loop, I came to a realization.

That realization: the following gawd-awful sonic-mess of a song,

Hey There Delilah, Plain White T's

sounds like Punk Rock Girl played really slow.

Which is a shame, since I've always liked the first song and I truly cannot stand the second. Now, they will be forever linked in my mind.

Just thought I'd share.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Best Football Commercial/One of the Best Commercials EVER...

So, its football time again. I decided to start the ol' tradition again of inviting my in-laws over for lil' smokies and some chips and dip. They are Dolphins fans and the Dolphins didn't disappoint. (In the sense that tradition is for them to lose so the in-laws can say, "It's only one game" and go about their Sunday afternoon).

But during the Peyton Manning commercials and commentary from what's his face in a white suit, pink shirt, green tie combination from the Christopher Lowell collection at Sears a commercial appeared from the haze. A commercial that was so cinematicaly stunning and serene it drove me to commend it in print for all seven of you to see. Without further ado, lights, camera, ACTION....

After seeing this mini-movie, if you will, I realized that no mere mortal could have created it... or at least no guy that makes a living making commercials. After further investigation I found out that it was a new ad line directed by Michael Mann, from whose mind gems like The Last of the Mohicans, Collateral, Heat, The Insider, and many more were brought forth. (The music is from the aforementioned, The Last of the Mohicans.)

Watch it. Absorb it. Watch it again. In the words of James Lipton, as portrayed by Will Ferrell and changed to fit the occasion by me, "On September 9th, Two Thousand and Seven, Magic was born."


Football Season is Here. Yay.

I refused to get excited for this one. I was happy that Donovan was back, but couldn't shake the feeling that the Birds would manage to look inept and lost out there, even against the 106 year old Brett Fav-ruh. The same Brett Favre that cost me the last two seasons of fantasy football in the Yahoo "Good Company" League. He's clearly past his prime, but that didn't stop Moose and the more than annoying Siragusa from kissing his butt for three hours.

I rolled up to the Sweaty Irishman's Country Estate in fine spirits, looking forward to an afternoon of football and Buffalo Chicken Dip and I was not disappointed.

Unfortunately the dip was great, the Eagles were putrid and the good football was contained in the two games of Tecmo Bowl that we played to make the bad things on the TV screen go away. For those of you scoring at home, Game One went to yours truly on an amazing come from behind victory and Game Two went to Sweaty on a blowout.

I contend that as long as the Fat Walrus is coaching this football team, the Eagles will never win anything of consequence. I hope that I am wrong, but after today's display I fear that I am not.

Some random questions from today's debacle (feel free to answer them in the comments if you can):

1. Why did Buckhalter carry the ball after the Eagles interception near the end?
2. Why does the Fat Walrus insist on only calling running plays directly up the middle?
3. Did the coaching staff and player personnel people really think they could just throw a guy into punt return duty?
4. Why does Tony Siragusa get even a millisecond of air time?
5. How come Brett Favre throws a pass while being dragged down and the Fox idiots talk about it ad nauseum and McNabb does it (on a surgically repaired knee) and they say nothing?
6. How come Reggie Brown got three throws in a row, and nothing else?
7. Is there any hope?
8. Why can't Sweaty's Buffalo Chicken Dip cure cancer?

I don't think I can take another full season of this.

At least the Birds have hot cheerleaders. That's about the sum total of the Eagles' upside right now....

For those of you unfamiliar with the Walrus/Bukket phenomenon, please take the time to check out the hysterically funny I Can Has Cheezburger?

[UPDATE: According to Sweaty, the Fat Walrus just started his day after news conference and took the blame for yesterday's loss. He also went on to say that water is wet, the sky is blue and puppies are cute.]

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Evil is Thy Name

What is the most evil-sounding name that you can think of? Here's a list of 10 terrifying monikers that drop my balls like a railroad crossing at 50 mph. You know, just to get us started.

Add you own scary names in Comments, below.

1. Helmut von Handinvade, MD
2. Jennifer Scroatenslice
3. Star Jones
4. Dick Cheney
5. Adolf Mansfield
6. Oozy the Clown
7. Chow Young Bile
8. Manuel the Baby Collector
9.Y akov Smirnoff
10. Rick Lick

Oozy says, "Relax."

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Question of the Day....

On this date in 1964 the S.S. Minnow set out on its three hour tour (a three hour tour). We all know how that ended up for them. At least they got to meet the Globetrotters somehow. And was I the only one who hoped for more episodes where Gilligan got knocked out and dreamt that the whole gang was in some non-uncharted desert isle setting?

Anyway, today's question has been debated since September 4, 1964:

Ginger or Mary Ann?

Please vote at the upper right of this fine establishment and feel free to argue in the comments. I have to exclude myself since I done 'em both.

[UPDATE: It seems that out of the vast number of voters taking part in this poll (4) one half voted for each of the ladies. However, Matt has awarded the thread to commenter Little Buddy for his insistence in including Lovey Howell. Therefore, on a technicality, Little Buddy has bettered both Ginger and Mary Ann.]