While I waited outside of the Skydome (aka Rogers Centre) yesterday to watch the Blue Jays face the division rival New York Yankees, I threw my hands up in the air (as I’m known to do sometimes) and I said, “A. O. Gotta let go,” and then I stated, with no shortage of gusto, “I wanna celebrate and live my life,” and then added, “A.O. Baby, let’s go.” A beat seemed to rise from the streets, a mic was thrust into my hands, a crowd surrounded me, and I sang dammit, oh and we danced, oh yes. It was a moment only Ferris Bueller (or maybe Parker Lewis) could have pulled off. That’s how I remember it anyway.

The story you might hear from others (all hogwash), was that a man in low cut red shorts, white tank top, yellow headband and a beautiful fake mustache with a brief speech, grabbed the attention of the crowd. Behind him, from a white van parked next to the curb, music began to play. The song was Taio Cruz’s Dynamite. A choreographed dance ensued. Choose which version you want to believe.

These Flash Mobs are a truly a great idea and a lot of fun to randomly witness. I can’t imagine anyone not enjoying a group of people dancing in a public setting with no other reason than to entertain and surprise others. So if anyone from that Flash Mob reads this, thanks a lot. You rock. Also, I’d also like you to pay attention at 1:21 of this video, because you can see the greatest jacket on the planet belonging to the gentleman in the black cap in the foreground.

On field Flash Mob?

In the 8th inning, a choreographed dance deprived Bautista, gets another at bat and kabooms another homerun into left field giving the Jays a 3-2 lead and eventually, a victory on a beautiful, dance filled night.

Bautista hits second homerun of the game, and league leading 40th this season.

Join the Nintendo Fun Club Today, Mac!

Fan Fiction?
Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out was released in 1987 on the Nintendo Entertainment System, where Doc helped underdog,  Little Mac, fight through the ranks of the professional boxing circuit. After the defeat of Mike Tyson, Little Mac no longer needed his trainer, and thus, 2 years later, Jerome Louis resurfaced under the pseudonym, Carl Winslow and focused himself squarely on family matters.  In 2009, after years of torture from Steve Erkel, Louis returned to the Nintendo Wii not only to train Little Mac again, but to see if he could beat him. Doc’s secret weapon? Leopard print. Not since Ivan Drago and Rocky duked it out in Russia has there been such a great match up. Watch the fight below.

Throughout the blockbuster hit, Magnum PI, there were questions of whether Jonathan Quayle Higgins III was actually Robin Masters, but that was never a question I had about Higgins. I always asked myself, “Does Higgins even know who I am? Does he love me the way I love him?”

Those that know me might be surprised I love Higgins so much when it is common knowledge that my love for Magnum PI and his mustache runs deeper than the Grand Canyon, but love, like many aspects of life,  isn’t always cut and dried and love triangles are not a rare occurrence, especially when it came to Higgins and Thomas Sullivan Magnum. Alas, I’m here to talk about Higgins, and just how much I love him, we can talk about Magnum another time.

Serving as a Sergeant Major with the British Army during WW II, Higgins knew a thing or two about discipline and I’d often lose myself in thoughts of being subject to such discipline. On top of being a high ranking officer, he also holds the title of Baron of Perth. Can you imagine being in love with a Baron, with a man of such high nobility? I can.

Higgins and Magnum would often butt heads, as is the case with such contrasting personalities, but you can’t blame Higgins for wanting to settle down the impulsive private investigator. It must have been heartbreaking for Higgins to watch Magnum bring home countless women in the cherry red Ferrari 308 GTS, while Higgins yearned for a mustache ride from Magnum. I know that desire has fluttered through the minds of anyone, man or woman, who has seen Magnum. There I go again, talking about Magnum. Sorry.

Sometimes I imagine Higgins and I, deeply in love,  living in a cozy beach house in Hawaii, sitting by the ocean, watching the lads, Zeus and Apollo (Higgins’ Dobermann pinschers) frolicking in the surf. I think maybe Magnum would show up one day to say hello. We’d ask him to stay for dinner and some drinks. We’d shoot the shit for a while, then Higgins would go to bed early, because he got a little too much sun and I’d tell him,  “I’ll be right in.”

When the light of dawn poked through the bedroom blinds, Higgins would awake, rub his eyes, yawn, and slide his hand over my side of the bed only to realize I wasn’t there. Then he’d call out for me as he searched the premises. Eventually, Zeus and Apollo would lead Higgins past a trail of carelessly strewn bottles of Coops beer (Mag’s fave!) to the Ferrari, where He would find Magnum and I curled up in the front seat together. He’d say, “I always knew the day would come when Magnum came between us, I just always hoped it would be him and me together.”

At that point he’d reach past our sweaty entwined legs, open the glove box and take out Magnum’s trademark M1911, semi-automatic handgun, put it in his mouth and pull the trigger. As Higgins’ lifeless body fell forward, leaving a dark thick trail of red on the hood of the Ferrari, Magnum and I would look at each other and smile, because hey, love conquers all, dude. Did you know Higgins had a doctorate in Mathematics from Cambridge University? Ya, I’m impressed too.

Thanks to TS Hendrik of The Non-Review for suggesting I “Write about [my] unbridled love of Higgins from magnum P.I.” Check out his site if you haven’t already. TGIF.

REASON #1: HOT GIRLS DANCING ON A TRUCK: Who doesn't like hot girls dancing on trucks, really? Sure, their bottoms look like they're from 1950, but hey, most of my underwear is from the 1930s, so it's cool. Vintage underwear is in.

REASON #2: SATAN'S SAUSAGE. At one point in your life you've pondered the idea of wrapping your mouth around Satan's Sausage and you probably thought it would run you more than $5! What a steal.

REASON #3: PEOPLE DRESSED RIDICULOUSLY. How odd is it that these guys are wearing the same thing you wore to work today? Crazy, I know. Beerfest is full of people dressed in hilarious outfits. It's cosplay for alcoholics.

REASON #4. SANTA AND A DONKEY DRINKING BEER. Tell me it hasn't crossed your mind that there would be nothing cooler than drinking beer with Santa Claus and a dude in a donkey costume. You can't. Another check mark on the bucket list.

REASON #5: TORONTO IS KIND OF PRETTY SOMETIMES. Not unlike your Mom, after plenty of beers, Toronto isn't too bad looking.

REASON #6: THIS GUY IS AWESOME! (Ignore my awful camera work, please. I had a couple-few beers).

I just read this article telling me triceratops, the James fucking Dean of dinosaurs, may never have existed. My whole world has been turned upside down.

Sure someone might say, “The idea of a triceratops still exists, it’s just known as a torosaurus. Scientists just didn’t realize that the triceratops was just a torosaurus at a different stage of growth and not actually a different dinosaur. Hey, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, right?”

To that I reply, “Sure, and if Brad Pitt’s name was Diarrhea J. Face, he’d have just as many fans you dream squashing, Shakespeare quoting jerkwad.”

I’ve always modeled myself after the triceratops. Listed under the special skills section of my resume it says, “Triceratops like pugnacity.” Does that mean I’m not as pugnacious as I’ve made myself out to be?

Not sure if I’m going to get over this. Torosaurus? It just doesn’t sound right.

At 2:04 pm of that very same day, I was delivered another email letting me know the Xbox had said its goodbyes to Bill Gates and was returning home. Already! I was elated. I danced, sang, and laughed, and because of this, was ejected from my work meeting. As I breakdanced out of the meeting room I showed them my briefcase and threatened my co-workers with a well-aimed predator missile that would be arriving shortly after my departure. Nerdy gaming revenge — HuZZaH!



So on the Friday after work I had a hankering for some gaming and I prayed to the video game gods (Mario and Luigi?) that my Xbox be waiting for me at the apartment, exorcised of its demons. And I got my wish, an Xbox arrived, but I was surprised to read on an attached note that this was not my Xbox. Whaaaa? This was a replacement console. I checked the manufacturing date on the back and was thrilled to see that this Xbox was 3 years newer than the one I had sent, which meant that the regular wear and tear endured over the years of me owning it had been erased. On top of that, Xbox gave me a month free of Xbox Live as a way of saying, “Sorry we made a system that breaks easier than a used condom.” <--That might explain the itch and red ring on the sack...

While I agree Microsoft messed up in the manufacturing of the Xbox, they did a fine job scratching and tickling my red-ringed nether regions to keep me happy. 6 days total without a working Xbox and only 4 business days to get it back. Fairly impressive.

The End.

It Tony was my best friend we’d talk about his days as a 2nd baseman for the St. Louis Cardinals and just how heartbreaking it must have been to go from a Major League Baseball player to a housekeeper in Connecticut. He would tell me that life can throw you some curveballs sometimes. I’d enjoy his timely baseball analogy and nod in agreement. Life can be tricky.

While noshing on Tony’s homemade veal sandwich we’d compare secrets in removing common and uncommon household stains and as always, Tony would know far too many housekeeping secrets. Is there anything he’s not good at? What a swell bestie Tony is.

Perhaps over a few beers I’d ask him just how bad things got between him and Angela when he took the teaching job in Iowa and if, in the end, it was worth it.

I might inquire if he had any nude photos of Mona hidden away that I could take a peek at or just how much he misses his blue van. That Mona was smoking hot and that van was super classic. Two old beauties that I wish could last forever.

“Has Jonathan come out of the closet yet?” I’d ask at Billy’s wedding.  Tony would probably laugh and say, “No comment.” He usually says the right things.

I’d probably get drunk one time and tell him he could do better than Angela and that he should go after Samantha. “She’s a hottie and has a nice rack,” I’d confide only remembering that Samantha is his daughter after he sent me reeling with a powerful right jab. “Don’t pretend you never thought about it, Tony!” I would yell angrily as I crawled away, pissing myself in terror. We would never speak again. You’d think Tony would understand that mistakes happen. After all, he did slide into home that one time and was out by a mile. What was he thinking? What a jackass.