Daaaaamn

Sometimes it is just amazing when people are good at what they love.

These two guys in the bowels of NYC are proof. The sweet spot is when the rail announcements are running behind them like a layered track. I only wish this was longer.

Check the cellist and flute-breakin' loops on these guys and give it up to YouTube for more Greg Pattillo and Eric Stephenson at Union Square flavor.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMUlhuTkM3w

Damn.

My Zombuddy David

I'm so proud. One of my best friends made the Colbert Report. Check it out: That zombie pic? That's my boy David. He was a groomsman in my wedding. We go way back. We did all sorts of crazy things together, alive-things.

Apparently this image was sold as photostock and made it all the way to the big time.

Top 5 Edible Mythological Beasts

5. Harpeas (Pigasus eliminated)
4. The Hydrox
3. The Cornicorn
2. Kracken Oat Bran
1. The Minutemaidotaur

Celebrities that Probably Smell

In this segment we propose that celebrities stink... and how.

The look that launched a thousand Hepa filters.

Wow. You feel that in your nose? The change in sinus pressure like the bow wake before a thunderstorm? That tinny taste in your throat?

Gotcha. You aren’t sucking on a Luden’s watch battery, you are thinking about Jonathan Pryce.

You know it. He knows it. So let’s just stop the pretending and get really real:

A steaming mug of Pepto Bismol. A suprised skunk. A prostitutes pillow case in July.

It is impossible to believe that isn’t what our esteemed actor, who is known for playing slight, effete, quirky, scary and always off-center roles both on and off the stage must smell like.

If you don't believe me then attend the local role playing game convention, stand in the men's room and say "Pryce" out loud. You will receive (unwashed) high fives from heavily costumed wizards, orcs, warriors, theives and C++ programmers who defer to their inspiration in persperation.

No better time than the 4th of July to declare our independence of effervescence by fanning the face of freedom due to a British aromatic actor, a Celebrity… That Probably Smells.

See the armed guy next to Pryce? With the pinched face? He isn't acting... he's that close.

Top 5 Things Philly Can Safely Root For

Alright, 6 things to root for...

After the second shut out this year for the Fightin’s just after the Penguins are confirmed for a Cup Dance, here’s a Top 5 Things Philadelphia Can Safely Root For:

1. More Pigeons
2. Greasy Brown Rivers
3. Paper bags of soft Pretzels smoked in car exhaust for delicious roadside retail
4. Angelo Cataldi’s phlem shaking loose by exasperated laments
5. Every other state in the union failing miserably at reverse engineering the complexity called the cheese steak

I Was Right

I'm filled with Spaghetti-O's of course... Spaghetti-O's with franks.

I love being right. July 2007 I predicted that Iron Man would rock. I was right.

This past Saturday the wife and I headed out for a rare kidless Saturday night. We got our loan for the tickets cosigned and we took our seats in steerage, er, stadium seating.


Coming from Mrs. FFMatt, who cares little for superheroes or Robert Downey Jr.: Iron Man was impressive, mostly because it didn’t feel much like a superhero movie. There was adventure. There was enough plot. Effects were great. People laughed and seemed to care for the characters.

My wife asked questions about back story and about the thing that happened after the credits. That impressed me most since she wasn’t just trying to get into my pants after 8 years of marriage, she actually wanted to know more. About a superhero movie.


Four thumbs up from my matrimonial franchise. Go see Iron Man.

Top 5 Come On Lines for Librarians

She blinded me with library science

1. You make me feel like classification 582 on the Dewey Sexual System.
2. "Semantic Tool" is my OCLC screen name.
3. Your enormous canvas tote really brings out your eyes.
4. I brought you this boquet made of Post-Its. No, they weren't from your budget.
5. Tonight your cats can watch us.

Why yes, I want to look up something...

3:15, Official WTF Time for May 2, 2008... 2 Way TIE!!!

1. I'm sitting in the Hershey Grill on break from attending a conference and the 3 women across from me couldn't spell "Reese's" for a word puzzle for the adorable 1 year old with them. Yes, word puzzle for a one year old.

After debating for 7 minutes on how it may be spelled they gave up. The collective sigh of relief in the area may have felt like air conditioning to their primordial nut brains.

2. All day at the conference I have been talked at by a security guard who seems to be a white supremacist, who mistakes my job (talking with people) as affirmation of his weakly veiled intense dislike of blacks and liberals. He just walked by and waved vigorously as I eat.

The problem with Earth is it’s filled with people.

How About FC Whiz Wit?

Well now that Chester, Pa Philadelphia has made it to 1994 and has been awarded an MLS franchise it's time to name that sucker.

She played for one Philly soccer team already....

In the spirit of civic pride and with a swelling of our imagination muscles, here are the Friendly Friends' suggestions to name this new athletic endeavor:

Philadelphia Freedom
The Philly Prior Records
The Elton Johns
FC Chesidelphia
Bone Thugs in Harmony
Philadelphia Waste of Money
FC Yo
The Liberty Hellions
The Brotherly Shoves
FC E-A-G-L-E-S
The Philadelphia Corrupt and Contents
The Johns from the Streets (FFMatt agreed that this one may be dated already)
The Philadelphia Experiments
The Schuyl-kills
The Philadelphia Cockburns
The Chester Molesters
The Philadelphia MOVE
The Pennsylvania Steagles
The Philadelphia Water & Sewage
The Chester We Do Not Deserve This Stadiums
The Philadelphia No The Other Kind of Football
Philadelphia Fever II: Electric Booglaoo
FC Pay-To-Play

So there you have it folks. Feel free to add your suggestions in the comments. I'm sure we'll end up with something horrible from a focus group like the "FC Phila 1776" or "Philadelphia United FC" or even the Philadelphia Atoms. Is there any chance Sons of Ben will win? They already have a kick-ass logo.

As long as the team doesn't wear something like this, we're all winners.

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.

#974 - TV Signoffs

Channel 17 was the home of the second tier cartoons and road Flyers and Phillies games.

FFJewbacca: When the Friendly Friends were just wee lads, these things appeared at the end of every "broadcast day" on the over-the-air channels in Philly. Yes, wee FF's watched TV until the end of the broadcast day.

Quite honestly, I had completely forgotten about them until today when there was a link to one of the best time wasting websites ever on Fark (which is, oddly enough, also one of the best time wasting websites).

The link in question took me right to J. Allan Wall's TV-signoffs.com and took up most of my afternoon at work. He has a great little Philadelphia section that immediately took me back.

There's something comforting and peaceful about these things. When I was a kid, if I was up late enough to see one of these things, it usually meant that something was wrong. Somehow seeing the signoff made things feel more calm and relaxed. If the TV was going to sleep for the night, then maybe I should too.

FFMatt: Like rotary phones, pagers and even cassette tapes to an extent, my kids have no idea what this is about. Also, one of the links takes you to the sign-off for New Year's eve 1986... my Freshman year of high school. You know I was watching that one, not celebrating with a cute girl at some "rad" party. In fact, I was almost certainly sitting in long johns and a Member's Only jacket on my couch wondering if we'd get heat back in the house anytime soon.

No one can honestly say that a screaming idiot with a British accent selling some sort of oxygenating, ink removing, floor steaming food dehydrator is better than this!!

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly About This Day in History

Invented everything... including your mom.

THE GOOD:
On this date in 1878 Thomas Alva Edison received a patent for his phonograph machine, allowing for the playing of recorded sound.

THE BAD:
On this date in 1977 Fleetwood Mac releases “Rumours,” the single most overrated album of all time.


Seriously guys... sleep more than 13 minutes a day. And stop fucking so much. At this point you can't tell where a beard ends and pubes begin.


THE UGLY:
According to the Sweaty Irishman they celebrated by throwing a full-on, 70’s orgy complete with special guest Lou Ferrigno. He has it on good authority that Lou Ferrigno was involved in 71% of all orgies in the 70’s while Bill Bixby took his place in the other 29%. Of course, that might just be Sweaty's overactive imagination...

Dear god let's hope so.

You know Linsdey is thinking, "Thank god this rash I got from The Hulk has temporarily robbed me of sight... it smells really, really weird right now."

We're Going to Need a Bigger Coffin

Holy shit. Roy Schneider, the dream of every kid who had a deadbeat Dad in the 70's (cop AND shark slayer) has passed at 75. What a guy.

I'm stunned. I alway thought I'd meet him in an airport someday.

Known for many roles but most famous for Jaws, Roy was like the average Dad that became a hero. Moral center, father figure, smoker, drinker, shark marksman (sharksman?)... the list goes on. He knows what Richard Dryfuss smells like wet. Only real men survive that to 75.

Roy, we'll miss you.

Is it true that the author of Jaws has also just passed, Peter Benchley? At the same time?

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.

#978- Boba Fett

I'm not Friendly and I'm not your Friend.

What?!? You don’t like Boba Fett? Kiss my black ass then because you just don’t know. Who got the drop on a Jedi like Luke? Fett did. Who was the only guy to get sassy with Vader and survive? Fett. Who survived the Sarlacc? Fett did.

Fett is as Jedi/Sith as you can be without that lame midi-chlorian bullshit. In fact, Fett is like every good general contractor or landscaper I know. No matter who the customer is, that customer is at the mercy of the guy doing the job and sometimes you just have to accept that. Vader knew he was getting charged for municipal mulch in his flowerbeds but paid premium anyway.

Don’t stand in the way of the man while he’s working.

His favorite weapon? Everything.

His favorite music? Credits and heads smacking together.

His antiperspirant? None. I said everything is a weapon.

Vader, Donna. Donna, Vader. Thanks for sending Fett over, my lawn looks great and COBRAAA!!! Sorry, my Turette's there. Anyway...

If you can’t tell by now, Boba Fett is a McDLT of cool side Spagetti Western ala Clint Eastwood and hot action like Run Run Shaw beat-ass chumpies.

For that, Fett chooses to take and hold the #978 spot on the Definitive 1000… until he has no more use for it.

Wha?!? Yeah, Fett is my idol... listen, can we do this later?!? I'm a little busy...

Celebrities that Probably Smell

In this segment we propose that celebrities stink... and how.

He might smell like what a bad touch would feel like.

What might you smell when you throw a pillowcase full of dead canaries, window glazing compound and moldy coffee into a vaporizer and turn it on? This guy. Just don’t tell him I said so. Me afraid… no, us afraid, us all afraid… of Carrot Top.

The juice I just created in your mind seems just perfect as a stench that Carrot Top would issue. That enough? Too bad. Let me take it a step further for you, and bring it all home.

Kitty litter. With kitty litter, dead canaries, rotting cloth, sickly-sweet moldy coffee and actinic window glaze I just described the smell of a typical corpse from your average funeral home.

And with that, I leave you to drop everything and get to minimum safe distance from a makeup-less party clown that has to smell as dead as the links to a Ralph Nader in ’04 website, a Celebrity… that Probably Smells.

Mom Mom's Ghost vs. The Friendly Friends

Since it is Halloween and all that, here's another true scary story, much like the one with poor Mr. Scampers, Ph.D.

FFJewbacca: So. I don’t really believe in ghosts.

But since it’s Halloween, allow me and my fellow Friendly Friends to throw down The Official Ghost Story ™ of the Friendly Friends.

It’s a late summer night approaching 15 years ago and FFMatt is watching his parents’ house in suburban Philly while they’re at the Shore. The house is located on a green leafy, quiet suburban street. FFMatt is living in the city at the time, but was staying there to keep an eye on things.

Sweaty and I are bored.

FFSweaty: Incredibly bored.

FFJewbacca: We decide it would be a wonderful idea to head over to FFMatt’s parents’ house and wait for him to get back from work.

Me and Sweaty get there and we shoot hoops in the driveway for a little while. Since we’re both large, unathletic white men it’s not pretty and we tire of it quickly.

We realize at this point that there is no electricity in the neighborhood, due to a prior storm. It’s getting dark so we do what only true Friendly Friends would do:

Sweaty had a key to FFMatt’s parents’ house so we went in to lie in wait in the dark for his arrival.

As darkness had completely set in by this point we feel our way through the house and decide to sit on the sofa in the living room. Of course we didn’t bother to grab flashlights or anything like that. We sit in the dark. Me, Sweaty and Peeper the Cat. It was so dark so quiet and so hot. You could hear Sweaty audibly sweating. It was the most unsettling noise we had ever heard to that point, more on that later. We sit there, giggling at the devious duplicitous and divinely juvenile plan in store for FFMatt.

As a brief aside, FFMatt is almost a ninja. In real life. He knows a lot about killing people with his bare hands and has taken a lot of ju-jitsu and kung-fu and some other Asian sounding stuff. If not for his cowardice and oafish stupidity Sweaty would have died at his hand many different times growing up.

This fact is important, because as the sitting on the couch in the dark, waiting to scare the living crap out of FFMatt drags on, me and Sweaty start to debate the sanity of scaring a trained ninja assassin on his entry into a pitch black house. Images of one of us looking at their beating heart while the other stammers an excuse start to fill our heads. Another possibility we considered was that FFMatt would deftly launch the closest thing available to him (most likely the cat) at the sound of our childish attempt at a good-natured scare and in the same motion leap himself towards the sound of danger. He would then meet the cat in midair; high five it, and then turn their attention to the two idiots cackling in the darkness. This possibility was enhanced by the fact that the cat was freaking us out. To paraphrase Brian Fellows, That cat had devil eyes!

So me and Sweaty sit there a bit longer, describing in great detail how FFMatt would probably make us ex-Friendly Friends (and we were calling ourselves that 15 years ago so it works...ong story for another time) when we hear it.

It being: BANG (pause) BANG (pause) BANG.

FFSweaty: From the room directly above the living room in which we were sitting.

FFJewbacca: To reset, me and Sweaty and Peepers the cat all in the living room of an electricity-free, pitch black house, waiting for the next coming of Bruce Lee to get home and give us what-for. We both wondered what the noise was and almost simultaneously come to the conclusion that it was Peeper who must have gone up stairs. Sensing our lame attempt to sooth our nerves, Peeper promptly meows at our feet in an “It wasn’t me bitches!” kind of tone.

Then there it is again.

BANG (pause) BANG (pause) BANG.

Exactly the same as before.

I could actually see Sweaty turn pale in the darkness. He said “Get up. Follow me. We need to get out of here NOW.”

I figure this is another Sweaty joke (like the time he sent me for aspirin for his asthma or when he grabbed the lighter out of my car to “show that Trooper” why he shouldn’t write me a ticket) and I just kind of laugh and say “Ok. And by the way, what was that sound?”

We actually run out of the front door of the house, leaving a very bewildered Peeper sitting there.

I keep asking what’s the matter. We get in the car, Sweaty won’t answer. We get about two miles from the house, Sweaty shaking and visibly upset. He finally turns and says:

“That banging was coming from the room where my grandmother died. She used to bang her cane on the floor three times when she wanted someone to come up and get her something.”

I don’t think we spoke again that night.

So there you have it Friends. A true story. My only encounter with a ghost.

FFMatt: So I had a long night running a synagogue (true, no lie) and I headed to my parents house to feed my awesome cat Peeper. I noted that the power is out in the neighborhood again. Peeper is cool with that, he kicked ass and fears no darkness. I pull in the driveway, come in through the back door…

… memories are memorable when an emotional charge burns what you experience with your senses into that monkey brain you rent. Here’s what I felt:

I remember a bank of moonlight coming through the back kitchen window into my face and against the wall. I remember seeing dust motes swimming through that moonlight, glowing against the blue-black interior rooms behind it like a bedsheet rippling on black water. I remember my inner monologue parsing things like, “stirred air” and “something not Peeper here.” Also, the lack of the cat coming to greet me… well, that was it. In that one second of time I ran over eleventy seven scenarios that all involved "somebody not a cat in the house" or "somebody had just been there." I still had my hand on the half-open door. I was standing still in mid-step. Unblinking, I calmly but urgently backed out of the door, drove to the end of the driveway and watched the dark house for a few minutes.

Pure instinct. I drove home to Philly. WTF.

I think it was two days later Sweaty got ahold of me and once he said he was at the house that night we barked over each other to say what happened next.

I think I knew somebody was just in the place and I reacted well enough but when Sweaty and Jewbacca added the wrinkle about Mom Mom and her cane I lost it.

I was there when she died, when she came home to die in our care with loved ones. I got her ice when she banged her cane on the floor because she had stroked and couldn’t speak anymore.

Hearing that of all things broke something inside me for good.

Peeper was fine.

The Terrible Ghost of Mr. Scampers, PhD.

Some close to me know the terrible secret of what happened in my basement last year and what gave rise to the terror that roams my house at night. In the spirirt of Halloween, the guilt I carry ala The Telltale Heart or from paying full admission to Highlander 2, I give you the strange happenings in my house that brought forth a hellish spectre that haunts me to this day… may God have mercy on my soul.

... One chilly Fall Saturday morning saw me in the basement, doing laundry before my afternoon class. I heard a strange noise behind me and inwardly moaned because I had already guessed what it was. Something was in the ductwork. This happened before with bugs in the summer, they fall down the chimney and breed in the flue dump at the bottom of the chimney. Sneaking close and listening at the exhaust duct that runs to the chimney I heard quiet grunting noises. Tapping the duct started a cacophony of screeching and banging. It wasn't a bird. Too big.

I then realized urine was dripping from the ductwork onto the floor. About that time the heater ticked on and more frenzied banging began as the thing tried to get away from the red-hot blower dumping scorching air and carbon monoxide out the flue. It occurred to me I heard noises the night before but I thought it was air coming down the chimney.

While considering making calls to our heater repair and exterminator I witnessed a squirrel's face peeking out from the cone shaped flue over the top of the hot water heater, the duct being an artery off the main exhaust duct going to the chimney. It was too small an opening to get out but it could breathe and not get baked alive down the ductwork the way it's excrement was.

So much for doing it myself. Visions of scorched animal clamped to face did the dialing for me.
But making the calls was pointless since it was now noon Saturday and hearing the agitated animal was heart-rending. It had probably been in there for at least a day and alternating between roasting and freezing the whole time.

Finally a call came back from the "humane" exterminator and he was on his way, five minutes out.

2 hours later, after the basement was completely destroyed by the squirrel escaping into the basement and not into the net and the subsequent clearing of objects it can hide in and spray with urine/feces, I cornered it with a net... and then the exterminator brutally beat it to death on my floor with my painter's pole. Not his. Mine. The exterminator was obviously in the midst of an amygdala hijacking and working out some demons as he "humanely" and expertly beat it about 30 times to put it out of it's misery. Who would put me out of mine? I called him because he was supposed to be humane. Now I have literally have sh!t to show for it. On everything.

I could've done all of that for free.

The squirrel was now in better shape than my ductwork. BTW, the furnace has now been off for hours at this point so the house was freezing with windows open in case it felt like just running out the open windows.

After 6 hours in the basement, after disassembling the ductwork to clean the excrement out of it and reassemble, adjust pitch and foil tape it all back together and make sure the house doesn't immolate from it all I went out and bought carbon monoxide alarms for the house.

75 dollars for the hit out on the squirrel.
75 dollars for the new screen for my chimney cap.
100 dollars for the alarms.
Remembering a tiny animal cowering in your corner crying from fear/wounds... priceless.

(To satiate and sooth the spectral squirrel (or spectuirrel) I named him Mr. Scampers and used the power as an administrator at a large university to bestow an honary doctorate upon him, to make up for the road not traveled and hopefully put him to rest.)

Happy Halloween and sleep tight... or try.

New York is Full of Actors

Yes, jerk-ass, it's to scale.

Leaving the Javits Center in Manhattan last night I caught a cab to Penn for the train back to Philly. What I hailed was unbelievable.

When you stand far away from the herd of hailers you usually get a cab first as it is easier for cabbies to pick up the guy farther away and get away again before other cabs block you in with picking up fares from the crowd on the sidewalk.

So out of the churning taxi pack pops a vintage taxi right to me and not of the newer but still filthy breed. “Wow.” I thought. Just like Taxi.

I get in. Cab takes off. No meter. No license info. No id of any kind. Folded cash paper clipped to the visor. Dude has a cycling cap on.

The cabbie was super cool… he said he’d been a cabbie for 60 years. He told me about the “brownies” or unarmed NYPD traffic cops. He laughed as a cop pulled a “damned” SUV over. He bitched about the new buildings. He complained about West Side Highway. He asked me about my family.

He drove on the sidewalk.

Penn station, in all it’s multicultural confusion and odor, was at my feet in minutes. When I asked him what the damage was he said, “Whatever you want to give me. One million, two million.”

I gave him a 20 and asked for a 10, payment for the character. He handed me back two fives already paper clipped together.

I avail to the Big Apple Friendly Friends... is this a daily thing?

Bill:"You ruined this cab bit, I'll have to make up for it in a future movie." David:"Freemasons are listening to everything we are thinking. Here's a shiv to defend yourself."

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: http://www.thepittsburghchannel.com/news/14181828/detail.html?taf=pit

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 Motorcycleusa.com

100th POST SUPER-SPECTACULAR!!!

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 Hemphill...it'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"

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."