Impetus: The New York Giants Yankees complete a sweep of the Atlanta Falcons Braves by a score of 20-6. The day after a 60-year old Braves fan fell to his death from the upper deck of Turner Field, while trying to antagonize Alex Rodriguez.
Seriously, 20-6 is a god damn football score.
Prior to the 2015 season, I mockingly said that the Braves were going to lose 100 games this season. After all, they had traded away just about everything worth anything, and turned a team that could have probably easily won at least 85 games into a team that well, could very well lose 100 games. Naturally, things didn’t turn out as bad in the start, when the Braves swept the Marlins to start the season, and went like 5-1 or something in their first few games, but as is often the case with baseball, reality sunk in, and then the Braves started playing like the team they were destined to be in 2015, and likely again in 2016.
Continue reading “This might be hitting bottom”
So in this Chase Bank commercial, Drew Brees’s son kicks a football in the yard; but because he’s the son of Breesus, it’s implied that he has some genetic football talent passed down onto him despite the fact that his dad is a quarterback and not a Gramatica. That being said, the ball goes sailing at a high velocity, to such a magnitude it breaks through several houses walls and windows, much to the chagrin of Drew Brees himself. Bewildered neighbors stare at the carnage caused by the lead food of Brees Jr.
But no problem, because Drew Brees is an NFL quarterback, Drew Brees is rich as shit. And thanks to his handy new Chase banking app, he’s able to parlay chunks of his shit-rich to his various neighbors whose homes have incurred damage at the leg of Junior.
I’d like to point out the part where Drew Brees wires $200 to one of his neighbors for a broken window. Because I am currently dealing with a similar situation currently, however I cannot say that a young place-kicking prodigy kicked a football through my window. No, it was just a freak accident involving my landscaper, a mower, and an errant stone in my yard that went sailing into my glass, shattering it. It is not a big deal at all, considering it technically happened last year, and I’ve just been too lazy to deal with it until more recently.
Continue reading “Have you ever tried to repair a broken window??”
I read this article recently, where a publishing company that produces a ton of annual sporting magazines decided to rank the logos of the SEC. Out of paranoia of sounding like they were full of shit, they turned the reigns over to their in-house graphic designer to compile the list, full of artistic rhetoric and extraneous words to justify ultimately what is a subjective list.
The thing is, the graphic designer went to Ole Miss, and the publication is based out of Tennessee. Both locations are homes to SEC schools, and right then and there, I have no choice but to discount the entire list as garbage due to bias, especially when Tennessee is given the top spot with weak justification; seriously, curled interior angles plus creamsicle orange makes it the best?
So, since I am an ACC guy, don’t really have any vested interest in any SEC football programs, save for the fact that the mythical girlfriend is a South Carolina girl, I think I’m just a little bit more qualified to rank the logos of the SEC. Yes it’s still ultimately a subjective list, but F off, I need something to write about.
From worst to best:
Continue reading “The logos of the SEC, unbiased”
This is an illustration I did back in the winter, that I had submit to Udon when they were compiling artwork for the Capcom Fighting Tribute book they recently released. Now anyone who has or has seen the book already knows that I did not make it in.
Admittedly, for someone who has to deal with rejection and criticism on a fairly regular basis in my line of work, this was a tough pill for me to swallow, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dejected, deflated, and downright resentful for not making it in. Me, and likely hundreds of other artists who undoubtedly ended up in the same boat.
Sure, I’m not the most talented illustrator out there, and I’m by no means entitled to have been a shoe-in to make it into the book. I knew this when I decided to put forth the effort to do this in the first place, but there was tactic behind my choice of artwork, where I tried to accentuate strengths and hide weakness. I went with a lesser-heralded Capcom property like Final Fight, instead of the heavy Street Fighter and Morrigan’s tits AKA Darkstalkers routes that would likely saturate the submission pool, and I took a route of humor, hoping portraying a popular video game trope, like the trash can chicken for full health restoration, illustrated out, might warrant some recognition.
Continue reading “Now that’s salty”
Sometimes when I feel like I have nothing to motivate me to write things, all I have to do is open up the virtual newspapers, and the city will provide. Typically, I look for one thing that gets the synapses in the head firing for words, but sometimes, there are days like this where there’s so much bullshit and rhetoric to want to call out that I end up with more than one.
Firstly: laughably inaccurate map of “racially diverse” areas throughout the Metropolitan Atlanta area. (Bizjournals)
I won’t specify which, but I live in one of these blue-shaded areas. According to the article, the blue-shaded areas signify that “no one race or ethnicity comprises more than 50% of the population.” All I have to do is drive down my street, and drive past the nearby* school and go to the nearby* grocery store to know that this is irrevocably false.
Continue reading “Oh, Atlanta #456”
I go to the gym on a consistent basis. It used to be five days a week, but has been reduced to twice a week, solely on weekends, due to a change in my life’s routine that has really only made it feasible for me to go to the gym on Saturdays and Sundays. In lieu of sweating it out at the gym five days a week, I try to supplement my self-imposed need for exercise on the weekdays with some outdoor jogging, regardless of it’s 85 degrees or 105 degrees.
I exercise because I’m not really a fan of dieting, and the fact that I exercise is probably the one thing that’s preventing me from full-out blowing up into a 390 pound behemoth, trying to get myself onto TLC’s My 600-lb. Life. That being said, I probably won’t become a cut and chiseled Adonis-like physical specimen unless I start dieting, and make some alterations in the way I work out to optimize my physical exertion into creating freakishly formed musculature.
Additionally, I like the idea that exercising makes me feel good about myself; perhaps its the endorphin rush from whenever I complete a workout, or it’s the fact that I’m a snob that generally likes the idea that the vast majority of the world is lazy and doesn’t work out, so the fact that I do makes me feel good. Or maybe it’s the fact that despite the fact it doesn’t really show that well on me, I’m developing some degree of functional strength, and when it comes to it, I probably won’t embarrass myself if the need ever arises for functional strength in order to contribute towards some sort of function that requires it.
Continue reading “Dear Women: Stop Staring at my Sweaty Body”
The spike into my heart: After years and years of dealing with dedicated Goonies fans wandering onto their property, the home owners of the actual home used to portray the Walsh’s home in The Goonies has had enough of tourists, and is taking efforts to close access to the public.
This breaks my heart, it really does.
One thing that I have always wanted to do one of these days was to make a trip out to Astoria, Oregon, and walk along some of the landmarks from The Goonies, because it’s no secret to anyone that it’s one of my all-time favorite movies. I wanted to see the jailhouse where the Fratellis escaped from, maybe see the pizzeria (if it’s still there) on the docks, where Chunk watched the police chase and subsequently spilled a milkshake all over himself, and of course, see the Walsh family home, where the Goonies themselves gathered and hung out.
Continue reading “This is legit heartbreak”