The gang member to the right is my friend Norris. He’s not actually a gang member. But he can jump high. He’s also pretty good at basketball. But mostly, he can jump high. So high, in fact, that our country has tabbed him to jump for America. (Cue Van Halen. Or Kris Kross.)
Yes, that’s right, Norris will be jumping at the 2012 Olympic Games in London, England and he needs your help in getting there. Things you should know about Norris: he’s a University of Washington alum, an 11-time All-American, a Seattle native, and can almost guard me on the court. At least three of those things are true.
If you want to help get Norris to London, you can start by attending his celebrity date auction at Citrus Restaurant and Lounge (shout out to my hoop teammate and Citrus owner, Danny Yarbrough…he goes hard to the rack) in Seattle’s South Lake Union neighborhood on the evening of Wednesday, October 26th. Win a date with the likes of Isaiah Thomas, Spencer Hawes, Jon Brockman, members of the Lingerie Football League’s Seattle Mist, and even Tad Hamilton. Yes, THE Tad Hamilton*. Proceeds go to benefit the Dawgs for America Fund (aka, the Get Norris to London While Simultaneously Supporting Your School and Your Country Fund).
Furthermore, if you’d like to help out but can’t attend Wednesday night’s event, you can still contribute by going here and making an online donation.
Continue reading An American DAWG In London: Help a Husky Represent the U.S.A.
Like a person who still puts the “is” in their Facebook status updates, NBC’s Winter Olympics coverage is ball-itchy annoying. And by ball-itchy annoying, I mean the type of itch you get on your balls that you can’t scratch because you’re in public.
In less than a few hundred characters, NBC’s Winter Olympics coverage IS horrible. Which is kind of like saying that the tetanus shot you received to treat the rust in your system from the knife wound was painful. Because as we all know, the Winter Olympics (the JayVee Olympics, as I call them) are barely tolerable to begin with. And then Bob Costas comes along and makes it worse.
Unless you’re a ski bum or really, really enjoy figure skating, where’s the appeal in the Winter Olympics? Three-quarters of the world couldn’t care less about this two-week event. Snow? What the hell is snow?
I’m a firm believer in the self-righteous nature of individuals, and there is perhaps no greater self-righteous rite of passage than the fan-dom of the Winter Olympic games.
Continue reading Not Your Typical Obligatory Winter Olympics Rant
So it begins. The inevitable downfall of America’s hero, swimmer Michael Phelps. So quickly, too, we never saw it coming. Michael Phelps, a stoner? Apparently so. And with all his endorsement money, he can afford all the weed he wants to smoke.
Not that anyone cares. He’s still Michael Phelps, winningest Olympian in history, American hero. So we’ll gloss this over, pretend it never happened, accept Phelps’s apology, and move on. Everyone gets one.
Continue reading Maybe it was a water bong