How I Would Let’s E! Online Interview Me If I Was The Bachelor.

Under what looks like the snake-charming powers of international drug mule Chris Harrison, Desiree (Kabuki) is giving preview interviews to fire people up about her incredible journey to fail at finding love.  She gave THIS INTERVIEW to E! Online and I was having a hard time getting through it.  I think that’s because Bachelor/ette contestants somehow think they need to act like politicians and give non-answers.

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I am in this business of covering this show now for different reasons.  Initially, it was to entertain my wife and hopefully get tens of thousands of women (and dudes) to worship the running dialogue people who watch television with me in person have enjoyed (hated?) for years.  CHECK.

The second goal now must become to finally have a super contestant.  A contestant that has read the blog and is committed to subtly making the kinds of moves that create a game-changer for the show.  I’m talking helicopters that take you to another helicopter that takes you to a helicopter museum.  I’m talking about the bachelor getting so drunk that they can’t do a rose ceremony.  I’m talking making two contestants compete for a rose by calling their parents and telling them they’ve been arrested for prostitution, first one to blink can blink the next time in coach flying their ass back home.

So.  Here’s how I’d answer some of the questions from this E! interview if I was Desiree:

You seemed heartbroken when Sean eliminated you. Why put yourself through this very public experience again?

Everyone seems heartbroken at 5am without food or water, just chardonnay.  It’s like letting a rancid grape eat your belly from the inside.  I put myself through this again because before I actually meet a real civilian to marry, I want to make out with as many morons as I can AND FAST.  If college was experimentation  this is my Master’s in bad decisions and I am doing it on the fast track.  Plus, it’s almost summer and they said they’d pay for spray tans and any pregnancies that may occur.

Any regrets now that you’ve finished filming?

I regret letting them serve me all those fake meals on my 1 on 1 dates.  We’re usually filming in a third world country so Chris Harrison can traffic narcotics, so some of these meals that we are too drunk to eat or they’ve been sitting out too long to eat, or whatever, I don’t know science…  These meals could help people and in the end, they are only helping create the illusion that contestants eat during this show.  When was the last time you wanted to make out in a hot tub after eating a plate of rice, beans and plantains?  Are you fucking kidding me?  I’ve gone to the bathroom and not looked in the mirror when I WENT TO THE BATHROOM after a meal like that at Versailles in LA after a casting party I was so full.  I hadn’t eaten since a week before Sean booted me.  I’m not wasting it on this food.  Food that could have helped local children eat. I am a big time believer in philanthropizing.

Did someone put a ring on it?

I assumed we’re not talking about a sex toy, right?  Instead of giving you a no comment like this is a legal case and not brain cancer for television watchers, I’ll say this.  This journey is about one thing, having a ring for a couple weeks before you break up and possibly, one day, being on Dancing With The Stars and having people ask “what is that chick from?”  A girl can dream.

Think back to the mansion on night one. What were you thinking?

Don’t fart when the mics are on.  Don’t get high on your own supply.  Chris Harrison taught me that.

A lot of folks blamed your brother’s treatment of Sean during your hometown date for your dismissal. Did you let him near your new batch of boys?

The actor known as my brother is contractually obligated to try and intimidate my suitors.  It’s fun because in the day he’s the most amazing CrossFit instructor and the couple times we hooked up, he was TOTES different than he was on the show.

What were you looking for in your last man standing?

Someone who couldn’t end up the next bachelor because contractually, anyone like that I have to dump so America likes them.  Like what happened to me.  It’s like that song by those animals in the Lion King.  Circle of Life.  I was always impressed animals could write a song like that.

What was your strategy to narrow down the initial 25?

Dump people when Harrison tells me to and preferably after we make out.  Also, keep the meathead, violent creep around just so no one sleeps comfortably.

If you did find love, would you want a televised wedding?

That’s hilarious.

Would you move for love?

Is that another song from Lion King?

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Bachelorette Preview

Monday is upon us.  My sleepy offseason comes to a rest.  There was some fine weather here in Portland and somehow the grey, flannel blanket of perpetual rain was tugged back over the city just in time for me to have to start watching this show again.  It’s not a coincidence.  One day when I shut this blog down, the sun will come out forever and you can picture me tap dancing in a sunny garden, smoking cigars and lighting firecrackers.

But until then, we will BachCap boldly into the night.

Am I excited about Des’ season?  Not really.  She’s moderately funny, moderately hot, moderately nice.  Outside of chugging milk she literally just milked out of an animal, she was pretty middle of the road.  She got the nickname Joey Potter because, well she looks like her a bit, but also because she was moderately everything.

Now, in civilian life, she may be a knockout, 10 out of 10, but my scale is for the show.  For instance, Chantal O. from a few seasons back was a 10.  She was a hot mess, she was down to make mistakes with men, she pretended to be turned on by having sex in a creepy outdoor mosquito-infested safari treehouse, her parents had an insane house and she stress ate and drank so hard that she had daily weight fluctuations.  She was perfect.  Chantal Om-nom-nom.

The Jeromian Bachelor Grading Scale is not about your ability to function in real life.  It’s about how much fun will we have on the show.  How many helicopters will you take.  Will you rappel off a building.  Will you find love on a journey to a third world country.  These are the variables.  It’s not personal.

Desiree is wildly hard to predict.  Her brother was certifiably crazy although there were some weird outtakes where it seemed like he was a paid actor or just some meatstick they found at a one-word nightclub inland of San Diego.  Also, she didn’t seem like that was HER house they did the interview in.  Her family didn’t act like they were rich and she works in a bridal store (a good one so I hear).  I don’t know what she makes, but just in general she didn’t seem to know her way around her house.

So, there’s hope that’s she’s a total ponzi liar, but I am not holding out.  That said, she’s so middle of the road, we could get an Ali season, which at the time I thought sucked and now realize was the high water mark.

But you can’t be Joey Potter and be the main event.  So I went to her ABC.com promo…

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Wait, what?

 

Remember this tan person?  This show is totally known for extreme makeovers but I swear my first thought here was she was trying out for Star Wars.

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So I mean, we could have called her Princess Amidala or Star Wars Natalie Portman.  That wouldn’t fly though because she doesn’t really look like Natalie Portman and my stripper name up here in Oregon is, in fact, Natalie Portland.

I wondered if this will usher the end of the highlighter era on this show, where they take a girl, spray tan her purple and stick her in electric lemonade colored clothes.  This seems like they are REVERSE SPRAY TANNING Desiree.  Being a Japanese History buff, I will tell you this practice reminded me of a form of theatre you see across the land of the rising sun.

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I give you Desiree, Kabuki Star.  For those confused, Kabuki is is a classical Japanese dance-drama. Kabuki theatre is known for the stylization of its drama and for the elaborate make-up worn by some of its performers.  I took that from Wikipedia.

But why are they making Desiree whiter?  Are they GOING TO JAPAN CUZ THAT WOULD BE AWESOME.  IS SHE GOING TO MAKE A BUNCH OF MEATHEADS DO KABUKI?

Ask Kabuki Star.  As usual, I may have to change the nickname depending on content, but we’re less than a week from getting down with this.  I hope you are excited.

I KNOW I AM NOT.

 

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UCLA Counters New Dr. Dre & Jimmy Iovine USC Academy

Headlines were made this week when legendary rapper and producer Dr. Dre teamed up with music industry mogul Jimmy Iovine to donate a staggering 70 million dollars to USC to form a new Academy for Arts, Technology and the Business of Innovation.  The course curriculum seems to read like a Jay Z track where you learn to hustle creatively.  People around USC are pretty fired up.  With a sub-25 person class size, it’s resembling some of the truly exclusive programs on campus, like the Stark producing program and the USC film writing program (cough, cough).

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Not wanting to fall behind, but dealing with incredible budgetary limitations from the state of California, UCLA has quickly pieced together a competitive program to “buzz ride” on USC’s success and created an academy of their own.

The UCLA Academy for Fairness in Academies hopes to be a light to moths, and by moths, I mean rich, awesome people who want to give you their money just so you can use it to teach other people how to be awesome also and later give more money for more academies.  Based on USC’s model of “winning all the time even when they lose”, UCLA hopes to Ponzi some investors to start some new academies that will bring a spark to the school not felt since the last time the kitchen at Diddy Riese caught on fire.

To specifically combat Dr. Dre’s program, UCLA has quickly formed the UCLA Academy for Pop Culture Recycling, which is a program focused on prolonging someone’s fifteen minutes of fame.  Non-existant Dean of the UCLAAPCR Frank Richard described the value of the program: “We beat USC in football once a decade, like last year for example.  The key is to promote these minor victories and turn them into movements.  In the football scenario, we printed shirts with fireworks immediately to commemorate the win, created alternate uniforms.  We have a bunch of soon-to-be-ironic ads running in the LA Times about how the football monopoly is over in Los Angeles, but this time FOR REAL.  We’re going to start a school that teaches that skill of promoting just about anything and trying to make it last.”

When asked about whether or not it was wise to teach students to harp on minor successes instead of just going out and doing something more grand, Richard said, “We’re surrounded by ice cream restaurants and fast-serve pan-Asian bistros. We don’t have the swag factor USC does.  We have to be scrappy.  Plus, we have no idea if we’ll have an English program next year.  California is having budget issues.  Frankly, I think USC’s fundraising success this last decade has been insensitive to California and we’re launching the UCLA Academy of Investigating Success to look into it.”

Richard was eager to talk more about the Academy for Pop Culture Recycling citing the incredible talent roster brought in to design the curriculum.  ”We’ve gone all out and stretched our network thin to bring the UCLAAPCR some of the finest recycled talent in the world,” Richard explained.  ”Our minds immediately went to Psy.  I said to Bill [Jones, co-chair of the project] that if we want to compete with a Dr. Dre led academy, we need a heavy hitter that everyone knows.  Our minds went to Psy immediately.  In our minds, all roads lead to Psy.  I love that commercial where he dances with pistachios.  I mean, to go from saying you hate America to starring in an ad where you dance with pistachios?  That’s capitalism.  That’s hustling.  Dr. Dre could learn from him.  We all could use some Condom Style.”

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When informed Psy’s hit song was called Gangnam Style, not Condom Style, Richard retorted, “Maybe that’s true, but safe sex is an important topic and with Bill Gates trying to create a super condom, condom style is wildly relevant right now, at least for fifteen minutes, and that’s what the Academy of Pop Culture Recycling is going for.  We’re going to own that space.  Dre can have his Beats headphones.  They’ll never catch on.”

[Richard's teenage son was sitting nearby listening to Spotify with Beats headphones on.  He was looking up the new program at USC]

When asked about his involvement in the UCLAAPCR, Psy rubbed his fingers together gesturing for money and then did the Gangnam Style dance for 27 minutes while crying.  Not to speculate, but he appeared a broken man.

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Psy is not the only celebrity endorsing the program.  Fresh off a 43 second cameo on NBC’s The Office, UCLA snagged former reality star Clay Aiken who was just honored to be called.  Aiken said, “I want to teach students about the dangers of thinking fifteen minutes can turn into an hour.  At this point, I settled for 43 seconds on The Office and I had to pay them 1,500 dollars to do it.  I ate a Crispy Chicken Sandwich from Jack in the Box that night that I had left unrefrigerated overnight.  I cry a lot at night.”

Richard was evasive about future endorsements and collaborations, but he was quick to say the program would take the first 300 students willing to pay double tuition to help fund the program.  Currently, the program, not yet in existence, is earmarked for cuts required by California budgetary restrictions.  In the meantime, Richard has struck a deal with the Women’s Field Hockey team to split non-conference home game ticket revenue to course materials.  Psy is donating his lifetime supply of pistachios as a good will gesture.  Psy could not be reached for comment, but can be reached for unprompted non-sequiter dancing at little cost.

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Running Long Distances in Portland

I’ve been pretty quiet about my training for a Half Marathon.  This post isn’t going to be funny or sarcastic.  I promise to keep it short.

The thing is, I ran the Cinco De May Half Marathon through metro PDX yesterday and I did so in around 2 hours and 15 minutes.  That is what it is.  What was less obvious was how big a deal this was for me.

Part of the maturity process is not needing to broadcast constantly what you are feeling, working towards and achieving.  I trained rather quietly for this one and owe quite a bit to my friend Katie who egged me on to do this, not knowing what a big deal it was for me.

Now that it’s done, I feel like I can share why.

In high school, I left baseball a year earlier than I wanted to and I regret to say it was because of a coach.  While the coach has gone on to be fired a few times from different schools, I always appreciated the fact that he lit such a fire under my ass.  I’ve never been described as being uncoachable, by anyone really.  No matter what I did, I wasn’t pleasing this guy.  His sadistic habit of beaning us before the game and his love of making me run during the games, sometimes for the entire game from play ball to the final out kind of hardened me to a lot.

When the Rutgers coach got fired, I kept thinking about how I never got on TV for being called awful names, having baseballs thrown at me (and all my teammates) and being forced to beat yourself stupid.  I think a lot of people have this kind of coach.

I was the president of my high school, honor roll, homecoming whatever, all of that.  Why the fuck could I not win him over?

Regardless, in my own means of telling him to fuck off, I ran the LA Marathon despite never running more than 7 or 8 miles in 2001 my senior year of high school.  I got pretty obsessed with Prefontaine, pain management and suppression, running for hours on end as therapy and pretty much burning through Nikes.

I ran the San Francisco Marathon with a great friend before my sophomore year at USC and took I think an hour off my time.  In a city known for hills, I ran all over.

Then, in college, I got melanoma and the sheer amount of surgery under my arms and across my back really stopped my distance running.  My body didn’t feel the same.  I had numbness in weird places from the sheer amount of cutting I had done (some 50+ stitches in three locations.)  It was the kind of thing where washing your hair sucked because it was hard to lift your arms and bend your head over.  You were sewn into a straight line.

I worked out, but really gained some weight after college.  Not crazy amounts, but I didn’t feel like the kid I was.  I think in general I made worse decisions.  I was a slow starter in everything, the opposite of what I am.

Later after meeting my future wife, starting what would be the most amazing career I could have dreamed of, I started to get back into running.  I got back into shape.  Everything was going great.

Until two weeks after my wedding and I get fucking melanoma again.  This time, 50+ stitches in my back, another 10 or so under one arm.  I had just run 13 miles in a training run.  It was November.  I was secretly training for the LA Marathon in the spring.

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One day recovering I snuck out of the house and ran 6 miles with all those stitches, one arm dangling at my side so as not to rip myself open, moving so pathetically slow, but no fucking way was anything in my control besting me.

I recovered, I’m fine, relax.  If you know me, you know you don’t need to worry about it.  I’ll handle it.

I got away from distance running again, getting more into H.I.I.T. type training to really get strong, create a strong body.  I ran some 10Ks, but whatever.

I moved to Portland to work for what for my money is the best ad agency on God’s green earth and while my primary fear was being far from family, friends and doctors familiar with my history, something great happened.  I got a mental break from everything.  I got a few steps back from myself here in Stumptown, the city of Bridges in the stands of Jeld Wen watching soccer like it was London or waxing poetic over whiskey with Sean exploring the gruesome underbelly of the great Pacific Northwest.

Like Prefontaine, I learned to run again in Oregon.

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I kept it quiet, but when Katie egged me on, I signed up.  Now, I finally ran a distance race.  I got an assist from Eric, who despite barely knowing me and being at least ten inches taller (and faster) than me, decided to run at my 10ish minute mile pace for this first run back.  We talked about the city, other cities, football (soccer) and running.  We talked about business and everything else.  We ran up a 5 mile incline until we were in the trees staring down at the city.

There’s something about it here.  You have to see it on foot and exhausted.

At the finish line was my wife and Casey, who was in town visiting and showed up without being asked.  It was like he knew it was quietly important to me.

Privately, I was actually proud of myself.  It wasn’t my fastest run or my longest.  It was my most needed one.

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So, I am coming clean.  A little feat of strength gave me a lot of it inside.  I felt so much love for my wife, my parents, for the Tender Trio and my friends back home, for my new Oregon family and my co-workers who inspire me on the daily.

A few days after I turn 31, the Portland Marathon will be run in honor of Boston.  Maybe I will run it too.  I’ll run it to honor a feat of strength to honor the struggles in your past.

And now back to your regularly scheduled reality television quips and college football analysis.

post race, post cinco tequila, passed out.

post race, post cinco tequila, passed out.

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Juice Cleanses, Motivational Quotes and the Death of Instagram

Somebody has to say it and it might as well be me because I have the platform.  Instagram was not created for you to post motivational quotes you screengrabbed from around the web.  I don’t think you realize what you are doing “people who do this.”

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I’m not some anti-conforming hipster trying to tell you what content to post or to ignore trends in life-casting.  There are plenty of Instagram habits in existence that are pretty annoying for everyone, but on some level I understand them. I don’t know that I get what the fuck is going on with “duck face” pictures, but I get that you are girl and you are probably excited about your lipstick and you have burnt out your “sorority squatting” photos and “planking” was so 2010 and really, the only planking you do is at the gym after you read a workout motivational instagram (we’ll get there.)

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But duck face girl, at least you “took a photo” and “made us laugh.”  Hell, you even provided girls who DON’T duck face the opportunity to “duck face” when they get together, get drunk and want to instagram and then feel bad that they are acting like girls who “duck face” from a genuine place, a real desire to “duck face.”

Lifecasting in general is a good thing.  I always like seeing where people are, I can even put up with what they are eating so I know if I should spend my hard earned bouillon on a meal at “humble brag restaurant.”  I like seeing what a concert I saved money not going to looked like.  Sure, I can’t fucking take Coachella-casting only because if you are from LA, it becomes all you see.  It’s like Coachella is the matrix and we all just woke up in it and can’t GTFO.

Getting near the point of wanting to kill myself is the “juice cleanse humblebrag” that you all no doubt are afraid of.  I drink juice.  I have a smoothie with flaxseed in it every morning (so I don’t get scurvy according to my wife) and occasionally if it’s available, I’ll drink a shot of ginger and wheatgrass.  Fuck it, let’s see what happens. What I can’t reconcile is why drinking juice makes you do this:

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I get it.  You spent a lot of money on juice and are sacrificing “food” for a few days to finally clear out that plate of nachos and margarita you haven’t been able to process since you were applying for grad school (you are now 27), but why the fuck do I need to know about it?

If you are an influencer, have a popular blog and posting this stuff gets you free juice cleanses, then good for you.  You get a pass.  If not, I suggest this rule:  Instragram pictures of your bowel movements afterwards.  What you are doing right now is showing us Bruce Willis arming himself to fuck up terrorists in Nakitomi Plaza and then you never show him fucking people up.  How weird would that movie be?  That’s how weird your lifecast is.

Do I want to see pictures of your shit?  (Shitstagram courtesy of @fightfromabove)  NO.  I do not want to see pictures of your shit.  But I also don’t want to see pictures of the juice fueling your quest to shit.

I am guilty of posting drinking photos perhaps too much, but it’s not preaching and it’s my way of feeling like I am toasting all my friends at the same time.  I like feeling connected.  Again, I’m not hard on foodcasters.  Every now and then to keep it real I’ll post a rum punch I made in someone’s pasta pot.  Just for kicks.

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Later that night I went to a neon party and hung with a friend wearing a unicorn mask.  I lifecasted the shit out of that.  It was douchey at times, but guess what? Not this douchey:

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Instagram Philosophers, whether it’s your quote, an anonymous quote or a famous quote…  THINK about what you are saying.  Worrying will never change the outcome?  Really?  Never?  I’m worried it might rain.  I will use the worry to pack an umbrella.  It might not change the rain, but the outcome changes.  I’m not soaking wet.  And who the fuck are you to put this on a blackboard.  The internet is forever.  TATTOO THIS ON A HUMAN IF YOU BELIEVE IN IT.

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This post happens 100 times a day.  Who are you saying this to?  INSTAGRAM IS NOT YOUR FUCKING REFRIGERATOR.  Let me guess, you post this and are happy when you get 10 “SO TRUE” comments and 32 likes.  But yeah, you don’t give a fuck about opinions.  Rebel. If you want to make this point, take a picture of yourself eating anything from Carl’s Jr. while sitting on the toilet on a bad hair day.  Then I will know you don’t give a fuck about opinions.  In doing so, everyone will probably like you way more and you will get what you really wanted anyway.

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Thanks for this.  You could have been fighting instead of distracting me from fighting.  You.  Or for anything that is worth having.

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My friend girls will tell you I am a fervent supporter of self-confidence for women.  I’m pretty sure broadcasting this kind of thing isn’t getting you there.  Who are you saying this about?  Yourself?  Are you supporting “unknown author?”  Yeah, I agree.  She was so once in a lifetime we don’t even know who the fuck she is.  Stop.  Find someone to date and value yourself.  We’re all insecure.  I get it.  Me too.  Please just take a picture of a dog or a cat or anything else.

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Work out pictures.  Here’s you you make them.  Take a spray tanned, stripper that eats dexatrim like it’s popcorn and then take the copy off the back of a 1992 “No Fear” shirt.  It’s defeating the purpose.  You are saying how motivated you are, but you are using all of us feeling guilty about not working out as your spring board to do more burpies.

Just post a Nike commercial because then we all can feel pumped up.  Or post a picture of you working out so we can say good job.  I mean, thanks for the half-naked person in my feed and all, but I live in Portland.  I’d walk six blocks to a strip club (in any direction, this city is weird).

For the record, we enjoy your marathon training and cross-fit pictures.  Just don’t superimpose quotes over them.

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I can’t start the next chapter of my life if you keep posting shit about it.  Also, this is commentary on that last chapter.  Get out of purgatory and just post a picture of the next chapter.  It’s called storytelling.  Please stop making me feel like you were abused.  He’s Just Not That Into You.  I’m Just Not That Into Your Instagramming.

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Let me translate.  I can’t afford the handbag I want that I do not need.  Post something about being happy.  This post was not making the best of everything.  It was telling people you are having a hard time letting go of not getting the handbag.  Please refer to advice from the previous quote about starting the next chapter in your life.  The one where you use any of your current handbags.

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This kills me.  You know what would have killed Churchill?  Him seeing his quote in some bastard-child of Comic Sans pixellated and used out of context.  The proper context?  A political speech or your refrigerator.

I’m just trying to help.  Your followers follow you because they WANT to see your lifecast.  So lifecast.  Instagram is genius because we can be everywhere at once.  We can spend times with old friends and if we get over the FOMO, it’s actually super nice to feel like you our out with all your friends.

But please.  No more juice pictures unless you are in it duck facing.  I promise to limit my “holding bourbon glasses and acting like I’m interesting pictures.”

No I don’t.  For relaxing times, make it Suntory time.  If it was good enough for Bill, it’s good enough for Zack.

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Good Luck Matt.

This won’t be a long post.  It doesn’t need to be.  Over the past four years, Matty Trojan taught us about loyalty.  In a sports culture that’s about top dollars, holding out for demands, engineering super teams and endorsements, Matt Barkley reminded us about the joy of spending time with family.

In past few days, people have wondered if he crushed Kiffin too much or where he’ll go in the draft.  None of that matters.  Not even a bit.  Matt Barkley should have his number retired in the Coliseum not because he won a Heisman (which he should have 2 years ago), but because no one wanted to be in the Coliseum more than he did.

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After having a lot of dreams put on hold, he stuck around to enjoy an experience that all the millions in the NFL couldn’t buy: another senior year.  Matt graduated and despite the season not being picture perfect, despite him never playing in a Rose Bowl and his shoulder injury, he will go down as the symbol of why this school can’t be sanctioned, why our love is so much deeper than others give it credit for.

Even when sanctioned and our attendance dropped, we were still filling the Coliseum up 60%, enough that Autzen would look full.  And now that I live in Oregon and can speak without bias about the Ducks, they’d still show up to games with a bowl ban, but your entertainment options in Eugene are far less than in Los Angeles where there are more trendy nightspots than, well, houses in Duck Town.

Tonight, he may end up a top ten pick (I’m thinking Bills) or he may not.  But if you think of USC, if you think of the deep love of our university and it’s proud football tradition, no one stands out more than Matt.  When the empire Uncle Pete created felt like it was in retreat, Matt was Hector fighting to save Troy.  He fought until he couldn’t anymore.  We should never forget that.

On a personal note, Matt is one of the nicest, best guys I’ve ever met through the football program.  I can’t imagine how many people feel this way about him or feel like they are friends, but count me one of them.  If I had a medical problem, he’d show support, if I saw him in the tunnel when I was hosting the Pep Rally, he’d run up with Kyle Negrete and beat me up a little bit.  He came to see me talk on campus.

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Matt’s a real guy and no matter what the final stat sheet says in the NFL, whatever team gets him can genuinely root for him.  Today, let’s remember his greatness, which was not limited to the field.

Here’s my favorite memory of Matt, before I met him, before you were even really reading this blog, back when just winning a big game was enough.  Matt shouldn’t be defined by the way this last season ended (watch Marino in the last 30 for 30).  He should be defined by his character and how many times he treated us to this:

FTFO, Matty.  Buy a North Face, it’s cold in Buffalo.

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How To Feel About The Sanctions Coming For Oregon

Last year I wrote about how Ducks fans needed to pick a side.  They either accept the NCAA is bullshit and stop the ignorant “USC cheated” arguments or they continue them and gladly take the lumps they have coming.

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It’s odd living in Oregon during all of this because it reminds me so much of the days leading up to USC’s penalties with only two major differences.  The first is that USC got in trouble for not knowing about something someone else did with a student and Oregon is directly in trouble for improper recruiting practices.  The second is that somehow in the screwed up world of the NCAA, Oregon is going to get off very, very easy.

Somehow, USC got slapped with “lack of institutional control” largely because Reggie Bush and his family took money from a would-be sports agent in San Diego.  Somehow, Oregon is going to get slapped with the far less damaging “failure to monitor” tag even though they basically failed to monitor themselves.  Oregon is also described in NCAA documents as a “repeat offender,” which just means they’ve gotten in a little trouble for similar situations within five years.

Oregon suggested probation and the loss of 3 total scholarships over 3 years.  USC received 30 scholarships over 3 years, a two year bowl ban, fines, freedom for all players to transfer, vacated wins and MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL.  They were not cited as a repeat offender, for what it is worth.

Now, to be fair, I think the NCAA is total bullshit especially when it comes to compliance.  They have been slowly letting Miami self-sanction themselves at no cost.  What is a bowl ban when you aren’t going to a bowl or a major bowl?  Didn’t stop them from the NCAA March Madness tourney where Miami fared well.

That’s why this is confusing.  Oregon got told “NO” by the NCAA to their initial self-imposed sanctions.  Oregon has a scant football tradition when it comes to bowl wins.  If you take their last ten year run out, they are basically an also-ran (not to take a damn thing away from how great they have truly been for some time now).  They don’t want to hand back Rose Bowls and wins and Pac 10/12 Championships because it really takes down some banners.  For USC, this was the last thing anyone cared about.  If we win anymore Rose Bowls we’ll need to play on a 120 yard field so there more room to hang banners.  We could give away ten and I’d be dead for fifty years before Oregon matched the total and I plan to live a long time.  I’ve cured my insides with bourbon.  I’m completely naturally antibiotic and antiseptic in there.

So, basically, Oregon paid Willie Lyles for recruiting services for some notable Texas players, two of which later signed with Oregon (LaMichael James and Lache Seastrunk, who later transferred).

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The thing was, when being investigated, long after the players had signed, Lyles could not provide Chip Kelly with any documentation, or “recruiting services”.  Basically, they paid for influence as Lyles was a mentor especially to Seastrunk.  When Lyles finally gave Oregon paperwork, it was outdated, the kind of thing you could get off ESPN for 4 dollars a month.

Oregon knows they paid for a guy to help shift interest for some players in a market that a school not known for recruiting coast to coast eventually landed.  This means, any game LaMichael James played in could be vacated.  Not that it will be.

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But let’s talk about the screwiness of the NCAA.  Read the quote above.  ”Playing with fire” and “should not be allowed to claim ignorance” seems more like lack of institutional control than “failure to monitor.”  Actually, it’s somewhere in the middle.  It’s “refusal to monitor.”

At the same time, USC getting pinned for not knowing Reggie was violating his agreement with the NCAA as a “student athlete” (sorry, just laughed at that term) sounds like “failure to monitor” not “lack of institutional control”, which sounds more like what happened at Miami where an on-field booster was paying for abortions and cocaine cruises on his yacht with 70+ players over a decade.

My point here is less to punk Oregon and more to call the NCAA out.  What on earth is the standard.  You can’t explain it because they can’t explain it.  It’s easy to get excited for Oregon to face some kind of penalties especially after their fans were some of the most vocal revelers in USC’s misery, but really, we’re all going to lose because we’re going to see something handed down that is either too light or too hard, that either makes a little sense or makes no sense.  We’re losing because they are ruling again.

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Any time you try to settle and the NCAA rejects it and takes you to an Infractions Hearing, it’s going to sting.  My guess?  One year bowl ban, some vacated wins, may 3 scholarships a year for 2 years.  How will that impact Oregon?  I don’t know.  I don’t care really.

I just know the NCAA is a total Ponzi and we’re all suffering.  We’ll see how it shakes out.

In the meantime, we have to try to get used to focusing on football because if you focus on the rest of it, you are going to hate this sport so much.

I hope Oregon fans learn a lesson from this.  When you root against someone else to go down in flames, you forget you are probably involved in the same things.  If your school competes at a top level, which Oregon has finally done for about ten years,  they had to do things to get there.  I think the NCAA is a joke, but the biggest joke is a fan base that assumes they are “clean” when another powerhouse is “dirty”.

It’s a dirty game and worse, the rules are murky.  I don’t agree with anything the NCAA did to USC, Ohio State and probably won’t agree with what comes down at Oregon.  I will probably agree with anything they do to Miami or if they ever catch Auburn for directly paying players.  It still doesn’t mean I agree with who is handing out the punishments.

I feel bad for Oregon because this will take a bite out of what was the beginning of a football history, they aren’t a Bama or USC or Michigan or Ohio State who has tradition to spare.  I feel worse because I don’t think there’s any way to know what’s right or wrong and if the juice is worth the squeeze because the NCAA literally hands sanctions out by playing pin the sanction on the donkey.

Or in this case Duck.

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Hologram Tupac Thinks Coachella Line Up is “Whack”

Last year, Hologram Tupac proved he wasn’t dead and rocked Coachella in a “had to be there” or “had to have anything connected to the internet” moment.

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Being a holographic celebrity on the cutting edge of technology, you’d think Hologram Tupac would be a fervent supporter of the two-weekend cash grab concert that supports the mass pilgrimage droves of people who normally don’t go to concerts and don’t feel comfortable eating MDMA in Pan Pacific Park and prefer a more collaborative experiences.  Only that’s not the case.

Hologram Tupac told me he is against Coachella and felt like a “ponzi” after performing last year.  We sat down at his Iowa chateau located behind the center field wall of the corn field from Field of Dreams to talk Coachella, copyright infringement and being a hologram.

“It’s tough when you are a hologram, man,” Hologram Tupac lamented.  ”Most people assume that was me on stage at Coachella, it wasn’t.  That was a recording of a performance I was programmed to do back in a digital soundstage in LA.  My Hologram Lawyer didn’t even know about it.”

He went on to say that Snoop was behind it knowing full well he was going into witness protection (read: changing name to Snoop Lion and vanishing from his reality show status.)

Basically, that show never happened.  Twice.

“There’s nothing gangster about 1000s of dollars worth of wristbands and a couple pills of ecstacy,” Hologram Tupac went on to say.  ”For the money you spend on that hippie outfit you will never wear again, the drugs, the lodgings, the gas and then the over priced tickets, plus the time you spend Instagraming and Facebook the entire experience from ‘clicking purchase’ to ‘getting your tickets in a box’ to ‘buying booze’ to ‘dancing like an asshole’, you could have spent all that money buying some actual gangster experiences.  I cut my first Hologram Record for 1000 bucks.”

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I wondered if Hologram Tupac was a little bitter for not being invited back, being passed up for, perhaps, more notable holographic acts.  ”Nah, man.  Thing is, people don’t realize half the acts are actually holograms.  This goes back five years.  Half the people there are so busy taking Instagrams dressed as Indians they can barely see the stage.  One year, I feel like it was 2011, Feist did the whole show from a dressing room at Anthropologie.  Kinda hardcore if you ask me.  She’s singing an Apple ad song trying on dresses with pouches in the front while all these hopped up kids are in the desert thinking Hologram Feist is real.  It’s a Ponzi.  That’s why I am out.  I’m done.  I’m only playing small venues and keeping prices low.”

Tell us how you REALLY feel, Hologram Tupac?

“Man, I just know the experience by heart now.  You are there, you’re on ecstasy.  You and your friend can’t believe you are in the desert listening to a DJ you Google’d.   You don’t know all these artists are holograms.  Then you run into Lena Dunham and shit your pants.  I mean, if you run into Lena Dunham, at least tell her season two was shit.  Me and Hologram Biggie got into season one, I mean, shit.  Who knew Brian Williams made a hot daughter?  But season two?  Put some clothes on, girl.”

It’s super hard to argue with Hologram Tupac.  I asked him any advice for non-Coachella goers who are burnt out on six months of a third of their friends giving constant status updates like they are the first people to receive packages in the mail.

“Yeah, man.  Turn off your smart phone.  Don’t go on Facebook.  Take a you-break, you know?  Maybe Burke-Williams.  Get pampered.  There’s nothing you can do to get away from it besides unplug.  Plus, you already know what happens.  Just abstain, man.”

What about Stagecoach?  Same thing?

“Nah, Stagecoach is okay with me.  The girls try to dress like cowgirls as opposed to hippies.  I know girls think hippie dressing is attractive to men.  We’d rather get with cowgirls.  Plus all that music at Stagecoach is designed to make women accept that men cheat and move on.  It’s a crazy ponzi.  That’s gangster.  To understand a country song, you need to get kicked in the heart and what better place than in the desert dressed as stripper cowgirls, right?”

Hologram Tupac has a point.

In all seriousness, to everyone heading out to Indio, be safe, hydrate and keep the Instagramming to a minimum.  Watch with your eyes.

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Andy Enfield and Dunk City Should Make Kiffin Nervous

The pressure for Lane Kiffin to produce has never been higher.  Andy Enfield, the upstart FGCU coach who made a big splash in this year’s tourney thanks to his uptempo style of play and a surprise Sweet Sixteen visit, is now the head coach of USC basketball.

I have never spoken much about our basketball team because there has not been an emotional in for me since the Sam Clancy era and that was more a fascination.  In 2001, our basketball team was kind of better than our football team.

The thing is, Andy Enfield is the kind of man who could make me care more.  He is a bacon wrapped enigma.  He is the first coach since Kiffin that has made me feel Arrogant Nation is still so, so, so on track.  I may even cover basketball.

Let’s get into this.  Andy Enfield has that certain “fuck you I did it” quality that can’t be denied.  Beyond his achievements, which are incredible, he has this “awe shucks” Ponzi he runs.  He doesn’t seem like he is aware or cares that all he does is win pretty much.  This guy is Forrest Gump for the millenials.

He’s coached in the NBA and ACC (kinda? sorta?) and eventually goes to FGCU which I am older than and basically just runs with the fact their jersey’s read like a text between two teenage girls living in Shibuya, Tokyo eating glow sticks (OMG FGCU 2NITE!) and decides our style of hoops is just to freak out and dunk all the time even if you need a three pointer.  Down by ten?  FUCKING DUNK.

Arrogant.  But it gets more amazing.

Enfield was a co-founder (kinda? sorta?) of a tech company (kinda? sorta?) and got rich that way.  When asked about how wealthy he was, he said he still needs to work.  That’s how Forrest Gump acted when he mowed the high school field after he founded Bubba Gump and bought Apple Stock.

Sometime in there, the woman pictured below was on the cover of the Maxim Swimsuit issue in the spring of my Freshman year.  This was on the floor of every dorm bathroom at USC.  This is where it becomes destiny.

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Enfield somehow meets Amanda Marcum, yeah her, and they get married.  His first date with her?  Come to see a basketball game and I am taking you to Taco Bell.  Yeah.  You are a fucking model, I am taking you to a sporting event and you get to eat all 1.79 of this burrito I am buying you.  Did it work?

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Fuck yeah it did.  Three times over.  She locked HIM down.

She:

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Locked HIM:

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Down.

She locked him down.  Is she that awful marry  you for your money don’t care about your career models?

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Doesn’t seem like it.  This lady will be courtside rocking USC gear and making you wonder why isn’t Layla doing this more?  What on earth is Enfield’s secret sauce beyond fucking commanding his players to dunk everything from basketballs to their donuts.  Sometimes at practice, he just makes them all take baths so he can dunk his whole team.

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I think maybe it’s his eye of the tiger thing he has going on.  Sometimes you look at Enfield and you think that he sees the world like it’s the Matrix and he is just figuring out how to bend the spoon into a basketball so he can command someone to dunk it.

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Kiffin had better win because this basically raises the bar.  He’s not the only arrogant guy with a hot wife on campus and Andy has lowered expectations.  If we can just start dunking all the time and making UCLA look like assholes (more than they already do with their hire who has less tournament wins than Enfield won THIS YEAR with OMGWTFBBQuiniversity), he will be very popular.  And because his wife was in Maxim SSI when I was a freshman and she seems stoked on creating an army of children dunk monsters.

Andy, the Bearfighter has your back.  And yes, I will dunk anything you need me to.

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Strawberry Lemonade on DWTS

I have a confession to make, but it’s the best kind of confession.  I have seen maybe three episodes of Dancing With The Stars.  There was a a period of time where I’d see DWTS on Facebook and think it was some form of post traumatic stress disorder that people where excited about for some reason.  Now, I’m using the acronym in a blog title.  Boom.  Progress.  Can’t slow me down.

I received a lot of tweets about Strawberry Lemonade being on this show and I avoided it much like I avoided Bachelor Pad.  Basically, I just don’t find much skill in making fun of something that isn’t taking itself seriously to begin with.  Like shooting fish in a barrel.

And then Twitter made sure I knew Sean had to do some YMCA Prom dance and basically I had to check it out.  It’s long been my suspicion that being the Bachelor in most cases can lead to thinking the world is rooting for you, when in reality the world hopes you fail at your marriage and admit “hey, choosing a wife via game show maybe wasn’t the best call.”

The Bachelor often tries to extend his fifteen minutes of fame to like seventeen or eighteen minutes of fame and they become that college guy at a high school party who you accepted when the party was raging, but now you are trying to clean up before your folks get home and why is Old Balls McGee still sitting on the couch asking if my friends know the younger brother of his friend.

That’s Sean on DWTS.

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There was a lot to learn from the four minute clip I watched.  For one, Sean’s dance partner whose name is like Metroid or something was way hotter than High School Soccer Player, which would have been fine if he didn’t hang on her like one of his ill-fitted suits from a Rose Ceremony.

She knows something about dancing and says Sean is awkward at it so he retorts by telling her he “knows something about dating” and then gives her a rose.  Sean knows the same amount about dancing and dating as he does about kissing.  Just because you are aggressive doesn’t mean anyone wants to see you do it.

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The first minute of the clip was them rehearsing and Sean shaking his crotch at her like Ace Ventura when he figured out the sliding glass doors were soundproof.  Then, when doing the YMCA, he picked the “manly” costume and was a construction worker.

Sean, I know you have never done hard labor, but the only construction workers that dress like that were either in the Village People themselves or dressed as the Village People at the WeHo Halloween Parade (which, like the Rose Parade, one of LA’s best traditions… to be wasted in front of cops for.)

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Also, he looked like he had just been born.  I know he’s into being a born-again virgin, but I mean he looked like he was just born physically.  Someone decided let’s “manly him up” by rubbing him down in baby oil to dance to The Village People.  Catherine was in the crowd and somehow found this attractive.  I think my wife is terrified that one day I start lubing up my body and dancing disco aggressively.

But if that didn’t bother her, surely the judging would…

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Every chance he had, he rubbed his baby oiled facade against Metroid while his fiancee was like LOL OMG EHMAGHERD THERTZ MER MAYNE.  She missed the point that he had spent a week air humping a superior, self-confident catch who doesn’t randomly stare into space and talk about how she is cursed.

Note to daters.  If your significant other tries to make their fifteen minutes last longer, the two of you won’t.

XOXO, Gossip Zack.

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