I get so mad at myself each time i come back to one of these blog neglect posts. I'm going to do the same thing this time as I always have when confronted with a dearth of inspiration or an apparent lack of available hours in the day: resolve to write more, stay creating, and soak up all the things that make me happy.
There really has been a ton going on, too. It's like the boulder has just begun gathering steam, and I get the feeling that summer is going to get here and crush everything in its path like a steamroller. But that's no excuse not to express something close to a story, an insight, a joke, a passing thought, a couple of times a week. If anything, I should have that much more to say.
What bothers me most is that while I haven't been posting, I've been tweeting away at the exact same rate as I ever have (as you can see just to your left in ye olde sidebar). I've definitely used twitter as a crutch, which is ridiculous because twitter sucks now anyway (SuperNews, you're really outdoing yourselves).
I guess I'll close for now with a story I've been meaning to tell for too long. Two weeks ago I was on my way to play volleyball for (soon to be ZogSports' first ever Schportng Sampler champions) team Purple Haze when I had a little bogus celebrity moment. My schporting activities are a different post entirely, but I got you, don't worry.
So I'm walking down 53rd St, and I realize I'm going to need some H20 for the game. I follow what looks to be a father/son duo - a pair of slightly portly fellows wearing matching 5k race shirts and looking like they could use some hydration themselves - into the first storefront I pass. Glancing inside I can see a deli counter and a fridge with cold beverages. Perfect.
I don't even realize I'm in Hello Deli until I go to reach for my water and I have to excuse myself around a photo op with Dad and the one and only Rupert Jee. Now, being a bit of a big deal myself, I'm not at all thrown by the sight of one of New York's most beloved late show punch lines. The Dad in the 5k race t-shirt, however, is awestruck, thanking Rupert and telling him, "I've been in here before, but you weren't around." Grabbing two Poland Springs out of the fridge, I can't help but overhear Rupert's response:
"Hey, man, I gotta work."
And I smile.
UPDATE: Wow, this is why I love the internet. A Google image search for Rupert Jee reveals a pretty damn accurate approximation of the exact photo op moment I accidentally walked into. Only difference is instead of me grabbing bottles of water in the background, there appears to be a sweat-soaked Kevin Youkilis struggling to interpret the directions on his beverage.
Oh, and one last thing. Looks like that Countdown to Bonnaroo really worked out. Riiiiight. So, about that -- the last countdown mention came with 65 days to go. As I type, we are exactly 30 days away froom the Big Rooskie.
Well you better learn to move fast when you're young or you're not long around
Cat somehow lost his Kitty down in the city pound
So get right, get tight, get down
Well who's that down at the end of the alley?
She's been gone so long
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
'Stand By Me' performed by the world, FTW
The world keeps getting smaller and smaller these days, and while that leads to things like killer pigs destroying humanity (or at least causing Asian people everywhere to break out their surgical masks and revive a little look I like to call "The Shredder"), it also leads to inspirational gems like this clip. Watch and smile--you won't see a better video any time soon (props to @Kramness).
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Music P-P-Power
Sometimes I miss Jurassic 5 a lot.
Meanwhile, some most excellent music afloat recently for you and I to listen on.
First, was just talking about this mixtape on the way back from CVille Sunday.
/sigh. why must I always have to come back? college, I miss you
Then wouldn't you know it? Most Bangin'est conveniently re-ups it on Monday.
Next, Kanye's LVs and Autotune 2. I guess when he's not spending lonely nights in the frozen food aisle, the gay fish genius has some time to put together a fresh mixtape.
Saw it (where else but) Pigeons and Planes. Come to think of it, this was playing in the car while Grimace and I rode in the trunk on the way to the glorious Foxfield Races. It wasn't comfortable, but our plot was glad we were there to save the glass-bottled booze on the way in.
Finally, no Foxfield tie-in here, other than that both the races and this mixtape are a big W.
Courtesy of Rock Howard's tumblr (UPDATE: Direct link right here).
Meanwhile, some most excellent music afloat recently for you and I to listen on.
First, was just talking about this mixtape on the way back from CVille Sunday.
/sigh. why must I always have to come back? college, I miss you
Then wouldn't you know it? Most Bangin'est conveniently re-ups it on Monday.
Cudi is very representative of the generation gap emerging in rap. We heard about your gun for a long time, and now your old.
Next, Kanye's LVs and Autotune 2. I guess when he's not spending lonely nights in the frozen food aisle, the gay fish genius has some time to put together a fresh mixtape.
Saw it (where else but) Pigeons and Planes. Come to think of it, this was playing in the car while Grimace and I rode in the trunk on the way to the glorious Foxfield Races. It wasn't comfortable, but our plot was glad we were there to save the glass-bottled booze on the way in.
Finally, no Foxfield tie-in here, other than that both the races and this mixtape are a big W.
Courtesy of Rock Howard's tumblr (UPDATE: Direct link right here).
Hip-hop fans, meet The White Stripes.
Fans of The White Stripes, meet hip-hop.
— Adrian Champion
Friday, April 24, 2009
Goin Down To Foxfield Gonna Have Myself a Time [But first, we rock]
Haven't posted in a week, and I'd be upset about it if it weren't another insanely beautiful Friday.
Once again, on days like this, you just gotta rock it, so here's Green Day's highly anticipated new video for "Know Your Enemy" to help us do so (P.S. Tour starts July 3 in Seattle. Won't you join me on July 27 for some punk rock fist pumping in the Big Apple?).
I'll be spending the weekend at the most wonderful party of the year, the highlight of any good Wahoo's spring, the always-glorious and debaucherous Foxfield Races. To the uninitiated, please be aware that there is no 'ssss' at the end. Foxfield. Period. For the most comprehensive guide ever assembled to this landmark event, consult the awesomeness that is cVillain's '08 preview (seriously, you don't want to miss the infamous Piss Trough). If you're looking for me among the crowd, I'll likely be found wandering somewhere between "Wastefest" and "Graduates O' Wastefest." Hit me up, we'll toast to the better times (and chase it down with a shot of ice cold water because holy balls it's gonna be hot).
Most accurate Foxfield map ever courtesy of cVillain.
Once again, on days like this, you just gotta rock it, so here's Green Day's highly anticipated new video for "Know Your Enemy" to help us do so (P.S. Tour starts July 3 in Seattle. Won't you join me on July 27 for some punk rock fist pumping in the Big Apple?).
I'll be spending the weekend at the most wonderful party of the year, the highlight of any good Wahoo's spring, the always-glorious and debaucherous Foxfield Races. To the uninitiated, please be aware that there is no 'ssss' at the end. Foxfield. Period. For the most comprehensive guide ever assembled to this landmark event, consult the awesomeness that is cVillain's '08 preview (seriously, you don't want to miss the infamous Piss Trough). If you're looking for me among the crowd, I'll likely be found wandering somewhere between "Wastefest" and "Graduates O' Wastefest." Hit me up, we'll toast to the better times (and chase it down with a shot of ice cold water because holy balls it's gonna be hot).
Most accurate Foxfield map ever courtesy of cVillain.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Friday Moneymaker Shaker
It's Friday, it's 5:00, the sun is shining and the Yankees win.
Glorious.
Only one thing left to do: Shake it.
Whether you're a pompous old geezer who gets way too much enjoyment out of silly puns or this little dude I spotted getting his groove on to some Beatles music in Strawberry Fields, the best way to celebrate feelin' alive is to shake what your mama gave ya.
Glorious.
Only one thing left to do: Shake it.
Whether you're a pompous old geezer who gets way too much enjoyment out of silly puns or this little dude I spotted getting his groove on to some Beatles music in Strawberry Fields, the best way to celebrate feelin' alive is to shake what your mama gave ya.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
The Dead Weather rock Bowery Ballroom [Jack White rules the universe]
Last night at the Bowery Ballroom, I was lucky enough to be among the tightly packed crowd of about 600 for the public performance debut of Jack White's latest side project/"obj-band"/supergroup, The Dead Weather. For the uninitiated, the rock god of our generation is fronting yet another band these days, wherein he returns to his first love, the drum kit, and continues to rock your face with his trademark brand of dirty, buzzing, crackling blues rock. Joining him this time around are lead singer Allison Mossheart of The Kills, Raconteurs bassist "Little Jack" Lawrence, and Queens of the Stone Age's Dean Fertita on guitar and keys. But you knew all that. Let's get to the part you don't know about -- the actual concert -- because unlike this guy, you couldn't score tickets, which sold out in approximately 47 seconds.
As I mentioned, the crowd was packed into Bowery Ballroom as tightly as we could have been, and I leaned over to Smellson the Music Fairy and remarked on the uniqueness of the situation--600 of us had snatched up tickets instantly and crammed ourselves shoulder-to-shoulder for a band that 6 people not named Meg White have ever seen perform and won't release their first album until June. Who else but Jack White makes that happen? The excitement was clear from the moment the band sauntered onto the stage in their matching black leather, and we knew we were in for some good old fashioned greasy, grimy rockin'.
White is as capable a rocker on the drums as he is on the guitar, and although his kit was set far back and pretty low to the ground, he still found a way to remain the centerpiece of the experience (mostly by playing the shit out of those drums). Mossheart is the perfect lead singer for White's brand of music, and she ferociously grabbed the room by the balls with her stage-stomping, mic-grinding, chain smoking hotness. I was transfixed. I wanted to do dirty things to her while listening to dirty Dead Weather music (which she would of course be singing). During one stretch, she rocked out on a Bo Diddley-style box guitar. Later, on "Will There Be Enough Water," Jack finally grabbed the axe and shredded, like we all not-so-secretly had hoped he would.
To echo the Rolling Stone article, it didn't feel like we were watching a "new" band. It was clear that this crew had practiced together, as it was clear that this was Jack White music. Without knowing any of the songs, I found myself rocking out hard throughout. When they finally got to the one song I did know, "Hang You From The Heavens," I whipped out the digicam and did some of my finest concert camerawork to date, embedded below for your face-melting pleasure.
Another great show in the books, which brings us to Humpday. The Yankees play at 4, which is cool, because that means the last few hours of the workday will sail by as Wailin Suzyn and John "Puns are Fun" Sterling bring me the play-by-play from Tampa. Or is it St. Pete? Or Tampa-St. Pete? Whatever. I'll be watching the game with a bunch of Fackers, so if you want to talk shit with me, head on over here.
Dead Weather links for those who weren't steeped in awesomeness last night:
As I mentioned, the crowd was packed into Bowery Ballroom as tightly as we could have been, and I leaned over to Smellson the Music Fairy and remarked on the uniqueness of the situation--600 of us had snatched up tickets instantly and crammed ourselves shoulder-to-shoulder for a band that 6 people not named Meg White have ever seen perform and won't release their first album until June. Who else but Jack White makes that happen? The excitement was clear from the moment the band sauntered onto the stage in their matching black leather, and we knew we were in for some good old fashioned greasy, grimy rockin'.
White is as capable a rocker on the drums as he is on the guitar, and although his kit was set far back and pretty low to the ground, he still found a way to remain the centerpiece of the experience (mostly by playing the shit out of those drums). Mossheart is the perfect lead singer for White's brand of music, and she ferociously grabbed the room by the balls with her stage-stomping, mic-grinding, chain smoking hotness. I was transfixed. I wanted to do dirty things to her while listening to dirty Dead Weather music (which she would of course be singing). During one stretch, she rocked out on a Bo Diddley-style box guitar. Later, on "Will There Be Enough Water," Jack finally grabbed the axe and shredded, like we all not-so-secretly had hoped he would.
To echo the Rolling Stone article, it didn't feel like we were watching a "new" band. It was clear that this crew had practiced together, as it was clear that this was Jack White music. Without knowing any of the songs, I found myself rocking out hard throughout. When they finally got to the one song I did know, "Hang You From The Heavens," I whipped out the digicam and did some of my finest concert camerawork to date, embedded below for your face-melting pleasure.
Another great show in the books, which brings us to Humpday. The Yankees play at 4, which is cool, because that means the last few hours of the workday will sail by as Wailin Suzyn and John "Puns are Fun" Sterling bring me the play-by-play from Tampa. Or is it St. Pete? Or Tampa-St. Pete? Whatever. I'll be watching the game with a bunch of Fackers, so if you want to talk shit with me, head on over here.
Dead Weather links for those who weren't steeped in awesomeness last night:
- Jack White's Dead Weather Debut With A Bang in New York [Rolling Stone]
- THE PERFECT STORM: S/T Corners The Dead Weather for One of Their First Full-Band Interviews [Self-Titled]
- The Dead Weather @ Bowery Ballroom, NYC - pics, video [BrooklynVegan] (Featuring videos daringly captured by twitterfave @kibbe--now available in real life!)
- The Dead Weather [Official Site]
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
HBO renews Eastbound and Down! [wherein I get exactly what I wanted]
From the most appropriate source I can think of to bring forth some great news in a day that has already been chock full of WIN, NJ.com reports that HBO has renewed Eastbound and Down. You just can't stop a bulletproof tiger. FUCKINAY RIGHT! KENNY POWERS IS BACK! This is most pleasing news and welcome relief for yours truly and at least one fan of this here blog.
If you won't listen to my words, then listen to my dancing feet....Work, drugs.
LOS ANGELES, April 8, 2009 - HBO has renewed the comedy series EASTBOUND & DOWN for a second season, it was announced today by Michael Lombardo, president, Programming Group and West Coast Operations, HBO. Production on the new episodes will begin later this year, with debut slated for 2010.For the full press release, click here. For hilarity, watch below.
If you won't listen to my words, then listen to my dancing feet....Work, drugs.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Opening Day is for everyone [the one with dinosaurs!]
Another Opening Day is in the books, and although the Yankees really let me down, it was still by any measure another fun and festive Opening Day. My favorite part was that it was chock full of baseball related goodness completely unrelated to anything happening on a field today.
First up, a bunch of fackin' hippies are going to kick off Phish's tour at Fenway. Thankfully, I'll be in Canada when this happens, so I won't even have to consider attending. Yes, we've established that I enjoy my Phish music, but if you've ever experienced the sardine-can seating at Fenway or stood next to a hippie you can imagine the olfactory misery that will ensue on May 31. If I have to say anything nice about it, the promo video for the concert on Phish.com is fan-fackin-tastic. In fact, these videos have been somewhat of a Phish 3.0 revelation. You may recall that the last such clip, announcing the band's late summer tour, eventually led us to the Fagot Farm in Georgetown, TX. I'll get you linked up to the rest of those vids at the bottom of this post, but I'm getting away from my intended point, which is that today's concert announcement gave me occasion to revisit what is widely recognized* as the greatest musical moment ever at Fenway Park. It had to be, because I witnessed it firsthand during my only visit to see the Green Monstah.
(*not recognized by anyone)
It happened during an annual summer baseball stadium pilgrimage. In 2007, the destination city was Boston, and our crew unsuspectingly -- and drunkenly -- stumbled into a moment that really was beyond description. I know that's a corny way to set up the clip, but it's true! And that's saying nothing of the fact that my memories of these baseball trips are often wobbly at best.
The second bit of opening day fun that happened today was a shout-out from Deadspin. This comes as no surprise, of course, given that we're famouser than Captain Kangaroo around here, but it made me happy that the internet got to enjoy one of my favorite road trip moments, the T-Rex first pitch. Going into Chicago/Milwaukee 2008, we weren't sure anything could top the previous summer's national anthem moment. Little did we know we were about to witness a Ceremonial First Pitch Fail 65 million years in the making.
I was stunned to see this linked on Deadspin personally, because it is in fact Schiff Happens original footage. My 2 favorite comments were Hurdleguy04 on YouTube mocking Wurm's cackle, and Buccos on Deadspin being spot-on hilarious.
So there, I'm totally capable of doing an Opening Day post that everyone can enjoy. And I didn't even gripe about the fackin Yankees (I let Jay take care of that).
Now let the UNC rout continue for one more half so that I can win some money and the ACC can once again dominate the Big 10. If only my overrating of the ACC overall hadn't let me down in the first 2 rounds, I might be able to do better than second place. And yes, I really picked UNC over Michigan State in the final and still can't win my pool.
In other words, Happy Opening Day, Happy Spring, welcome back Baseball.
Phish 3.0 tour announcement videos:
Late Summer 2009
Summer 2009
Hampton
Bonnaroo (only sort of related, but come on, it's been a while since I mentioned it. Speaking of which, you're still invited--65 days!).
First up, a bunch of fackin' hippies are going to kick off Phish's tour at Fenway. Thankfully, I'll be in Canada when this happens, so I won't even have to consider attending. Yes, we've established that I enjoy my Phish music, but if you've ever experienced the sardine-can seating at Fenway or stood next to a hippie you can imagine the olfactory misery that will ensue on May 31. If I have to say anything nice about it, the promo video for the concert on Phish.com is fan-fackin-tastic. In fact, these videos have been somewhat of a Phish 3.0 revelation. You may recall that the last such clip, announcing the band's late summer tour, eventually led us to the Fagot Farm in Georgetown, TX. I'll get you linked up to the rest of those vids at the bottom of this post, but I'm getting away from my intended point, which is that today's concert announcement gave me occasion to revisit what is widely recognized* as the greatest musical moment ever at Fenway Park. It had to be, because I witnessed it firsthand during my only visit to see the Green Monstah.
(*not recognized by anyone)
It happened during an annual summer baseball stadium pilgrimage. In 2007, the destination city was Boston, and our crew unsuspectingly -- and drunkenly -- stumbled into a moment that really was beyond description. I know that's a corny way to set up the clip, but it's true! And that's saying nothing of the fact that my memories of these baseball trips are often wobbly at best.
The second bit of opening day fun that happened today was a shout-out from Deadspin. This comes as no surprise, of course, given that we're famouser than Captain Kangaroo around here, but it made me happy that the internet got to enjoy one of my favorite road trip moments, the T-Rex first pitch. Going into Chicago/Milwaukee 2008, we weren't sure anything could top the previous summer's national anthem moment. Little did we know we were about to witness a Ceremonial First Pitch Fail 65 million years in the making.
I was stunned to see this linked on Deadspin personally, because it is in fact Schiff Happens original footage. My 2 favorite comments were Hurdleguy04 on YouTube mocking Wurm's cackle, and Buccos on Deadspin being spot-on hilarious.
So there, I'm totally capable of doing an Opening Day post that everyone can enjoy. And I didn't even gripe about the fackin Yankees (I let Jay take care of that).
Now let the UNC rout continue for one more half so that I can win some money and the ACC can once again dominate the Big 10. If only my overrating of the ACC overall hadn't let me down in the first 2 rounds, I might be able to do better than second place. And yes, I really picked UNC over Michigan State in the final and still can't win my pool.
In other words, Happy Opening Day, Happy Spring, welcome back Baseball.
Phish 3.0 tour announcement videos:
Late Summer 2009
Summer 2009
Hampton
Bonnaroo (only sort of related, but come on, it's been a while since I mentioned it. Speaking of which, you're still invited--65 days!).
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The Lake Elsinore Storm and Subtle Butt have your ass covered
Sadly, this is not an April Fools joke, but an actual press release about an (incomprehensibly) actual promotion at an actual minor league baseball stadium. Yes, Minor League Baseball is sort of built on sideshows and silly, pointless promotions, but trust me when I say you have never seen anything like the latest giveaway from the Lake Elsinore Storm,* which promises to help control your problems with "gas emissions" no less than 5 times. Why don't you just go ahead and read the thing? Even a mind as demented as mine couldn't have possibly made this up.
Really, Lake Elsinore Storm? REALLY?
This press release leaves me with so many more questions than answers. Who the hell decided that the Storm needed an entire promotion built around a fart joke? And a season-long promotion at that! Does the All-U-Can-Eat really have to apply to EVERY concession stand? Did David Wells recently sign with the Storm? I was not aware of this transaction. And oh, by the way, just how in the bloody hell do you even find out about a product like this?
And hey, you there with the Odor Eater pad shoved up your ass! Yea, you, Allan Benavides. I assume you aspire to bigger things than your current post as Assistant GM for the Class A Lake Elsinore Storm. Obviously, then, you'd want to go on the record about your "Problems with gas emissions." This makes sense.
The front office staff were the guinea pigs? So did they lock all the windows and doors to the conference room and just stand around letting it rip? Would you not immediately quit your job on the spot if your boss asked you to insert a fart-soaking maxi pad between your cheeks? And why the eff is it called Subtle Butt? To Kim Leone Olenicoff and the other brilliant minds over at The Pond, Inc.: You could not have possibly chosen a less subtle name for your product. The very notion of it defies subtlety -- your entire product pitch is based on the fact that farts smell!
I am absolutely convinced that the Snuggie people are behind this. Who else could have managed to create an insanely useless product that is offensive to all five of my senses?
Wait, what? Oh... oh god... Oh good god no! There's a commercial!
This looks like something Trey Parker and Matt Stone came up with during a week-long acid binge, or the outtakes from a Brazilian fart porn. Either way there is no way you could ever watch that and want to try the Subtle Butt, let alone hope to receive one as a free ballpark giveaway. And let's not forget that Minor League Baseball is marketed heavily towards families. Do you really want your kid thinking he has a free gas pass to just toot away as loud and long as he pleases? The Lake Elsinore Storm: Destroying America's youth one fart odor-neutralizing butthole sticker at a time.
Ugh.
No no no no no. Just no.
Oh, and one more thing...... No, seriously, it's not an April Fools. I know. I wish it were, too.
*Despite their inexplicable association with Subtle Butt, I have to stand up for the Storm for just one second to acknowledge that they may very well have the best hats in all of Minor League ball.
The Lake Elsinore Storm Baseball Team
P.O. Box 535 Lake Elsinore, CA 92531
Class A Affiliate of the San Diego Padres
Storm Teams Up With Subtle ButtTo Combat Fat Tuesday Gas Emissions
LAKE ELSINORE, CA– Do you have a problem with gas emissions in the world today? Well the Storm want to help. Every Tuesday home game at The Diamond in Lake Elsinore, gas emissions and the economy will not be a problem.
As some of you might know, last season the Lake Elsinore Storm ran a Fat Tuesday promotion, which included an All-U-Can-Eat buffet in the left field Tiki Terrace for $13. However, this season the Fat Tuesday promotion is ballpark-wide. Every Tuesday ticket will cost $13 and include an All-U-Can-Eat menu available at every concession stand, with Tuesday, June 23 being the only exception.
You can probably deduce that All-U-Can-Eat ballpark food might lead to substantial gas emissions, which is where corporate sponsor, Subtle Butt, enters the picture. Made of activated carbon fabric, each disposable 3.25” square shield is held onto the inside of underwear with two self-adhesive strips. Subtle Butt effectively filters flatulence, absorbing and neutralizing its odor. “I am confident that this will help fans get through the Seventh-Inning Stench,” says Kim Leone Olenicoff, President of Irvine-based The Pond Inc., maker of Subtle Butt. “And I’m not only the President, but a satisfied customer.”
The first 250 fans each Tuesday will receive a free product sample of Subtle Butt, providing relief both for the environment and for the noses of those around them. Fans can enjoy all their favorite ballpark food (hot dogs, hamburgers, pizza, french fries and popcorn) and not worry about clearing out their section with untimely smells. “This will really help people out,” said Storm Assistant General Manager Allan Benavides. “I know personally when I eat all that I can, I have problems with gas emissions.”
The Storm front office members were used as guinea pigs to test the small patch in the off-season, and well, it works. Wives, friends and girlfriends are overjoyed at the relief Subtle Butt has brought them, and they hope that everyone else will feel the same.
For more information or to order Fat Tuesday tickets call the Storm Box Office at 951-245-4487 or visit stormbaseball.com.
Really, Lake Elsinore Storm? REALLY?
This press release leaves me with so many more questions than answers. Who the hell decided that the Storm needed an entire promotion built around a fart joke? And a season-long promotion at that! Does the All-U-Can-Eat really have to apply to EVERY concession stand? Did David Wells recently sign with the Storm? I was not aware of this transaction. And oh, by the way, just how in the bloody hell do you even find out about a product like this?
And hey, you there with the Odor Eater pad shoved up your ass! Yea, you, Allan Benavides. I assume you aspire to bigger things than your current post as Assistant GM for the Class A Lake Elsinore Storm. Obviously, then, you'd want to go on the record about your "Problems with gas emissions." This makes sense.
The front office staff were the guinea pigs? So did they lock all the windows and doors to the conference room and just stand around letting it rip? Would you not immediately quit your job on the spot if your boss asked you to insert a fart-soaking maxi pad between your cheeks? And why the eff is it called Subtle Butt? To Kim Leone Olenicoff and the other brilliant minds over at The Pond, Inc.: You could not have possibly chosen a less subtle name for your product. The very notion of it defies subtlety -- your entire product pitch is based on the fact that farts smell!
I am absolutely convinced that the Snuggie people are behind this. Who else could have managed to create an insanely useless product that is offensive to all five of my senses?
Wait, what? Oh... oh god... Oh good god no! There's a commercial!
This looks like something Trey Parker and Matt Stone came up with during a week-long acid binge, or the outtakes from a Brazilian fart porn. Either way there is no way you could ever watch that and want to try the Subtle Butt, let alone hope to receive one as a free ballpark giveaway. And let's not forget that Minor League Baseball is marketed heavily towards families. Do you really want your kid thinking he has a free gas pass to just toot away as loud and long as he pleases? The Lake Elsinore Storm: Destroying America's youth one fart odor-neutralizing butthole sticker at a time.
Ugh.
No no no no no. Just no.
Oh, and one more thing...... No, seriously, it's not an April Fools. I know. I wish it were, too.
*Despite their inexplicable association with Subtle Butt, I have to stand up for the Storm for just one second to acknowledge that they may very well have the best hats in all of Minor League ball.
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