Rope-a-licious

I just found out about this today. My friend Jaclyn makes these necklaces, out of climbing rope and other kinds of rope. I don't know much about making jewelry, but I think these are pretty cool.

I'm kind of hoping she'll make me a big gold dookie chain out of that flourescent rope, with a big gold Mercedes-Benz charm, so I can look like the cover of Paid in Full.

http://www.jaclynmayer.com/

Jobyl Wants Another Recipe

This one's for you Kilogram.

I stole this one, too. Bonus points for the science experiment aspect.



Take a can of sweetened condensed milk. Submerge it in water and weigh it down so it doesn't float above the surface. Boil it for three hours.

Apparently, dulce de leche comes out of the can when you're done.



By the way, the new Wu-Tang album is excellent. These guys only get better with age.

I'm still not sold on True Blood, but I keep watching. I'm not convinced that the writing or acting is all that good, it's totally gross sometimes, and I've seen vampires done better --best by Stoker, second prize to Marvel Comics. And, it was oversold to me. Someone told me it was all about filthy dirty Southern vampire sex, which it's not. There are real characters and real events and real plots that really evolve. I'm just not sure they're that great. But it's passable and I've got nothing to do since Prison Break ended.

Yoga Tip of the Day

Apparently this is true. If you wave your arms over your head, like a Sims person having a mental meltdown, it's actually a kundalini yoga move. I guess it sorts out your arm chakras.

Does this make anyone nervous?

I had this whole long thing written about this, but it got me depressed, so I threw it out. I'm not about being depressed. My sphere is depression proof.

I had a strange food experience today

Is there a twelve step program for sugar?

Whoever is in charge of this cupcake renaissance deserves a Nobel Prize. Or at least a Daytime Emmy.

I had a cupcake today from a place called Muddy's, here in Memphis. And I have to tell you all about it. Not to gloat but because Americans eat crap food and need to wreckanize quality when they see it.

First of all, I had the sugar shakes for about an hour afterward. Which is not only a sign of quality, but of divinity. The strangest thing about it wasn't the quantity of sugar, though. It was the duration and character of the taste experience.

First of all, it was a mint chocolate chip ice cream flavored cupcake, which might be the most amazing phrase I've ever heard. See, I love ice cream to begin with. Blue Bell makes the best I've ever had. And don't try the gelato argument, all you fancy people. I love gelato and I will show you where to get the best stuff on earth if you're nice, but I'm talking about ice cream, not gelato. And if you haven't had Blue Bell, don't come at me with some other Turkey Hill or Haagen-Merde or whatever junk you want to try to push on my block. Eat some Blue Bell and get back to me. Even the Ice Cream Depot in Milltown isn't as good, which is saying quite a lot.

So the first thing I noticed was that my teeth actually felt the cool of the mint. For real, like a breeze that followed the contours of my teeth. Boring people and dentists (not the same group, mind you) would say that that was my tooth enamel degrading. Yeah? So be it.

After that, it hit my taste buds, where it actually tasted just like mint chocolate chip ice cream, even though the mint was in the frosting and it was a chocolate cupcake. See, now I understand what the food show people mean when they talk about ingredients synthesizing, though I think I figured that out with pizza decades ago.

See, now here's the weird part, when I knew I was having a pan-dessert, transcendental experience. After a few seconds, after the taste had faded from my mouth, I actually felt the flavor of mint in my lungs. When I inhaled, I felt the cool rush of mint flavor that I had had on my teeth a half minute earlier.

You wanna talk about some next-level shenanigans. This was like looking through your third eye, man. Serious. Feeling taste? That's what I'm talking about.

Muddy's on Sanderlin in Memphis. Apparently it's across from the yoga studio, so you can frizzle fry your sphere with sugar when you need to.

Idiocy makes me mad.

File this under philosorambles. I spelled it Phile the phirst time. No joking, my brain totally shuts off sometimes. I'd appreciate it if someone else can admit to that.

Can somebody explain to me what it is with these crazy rookies? Already, Michael Crabtree has lost his mind and refused to sign his contract. It's preseason, dude. Sign the contract. And now BJ Raji isn't even in the state of Wisconsin? And they're not the only ones. There's a handful of them. Seriously, what is wrong with these dudes?

I've got a thought on this.

SIGN THE CONTRACT.

I'm not claiming to understand the whole situation, and you all know that the odds of me being a 1st round draft choice in the NFL is about zero. Too bad. I got me some moves. You should see me on the basketball court.

But anyway, what is the dilemma? If it was me, and I was one of those dudes, this would've been done the day after the draft. You need a few hours to wrap your head around the whole NFL Draft thing, and everybody and their brother probably wants to get a picture, which is fair cause it's the NFL for God's sake. But why are these guys holding out? Rich Eisen has a great theory: it's the agents. He reasons that it's the 1st contract that gets the cash to the agenst best. Fair enough. But, guys? You've spent your whole lives doing things to get to this point. And now you're holding out for more money?

Money?

See, this is my problem. It's not about the money for me. For me, it's what in the name of whatever is making these dudes so dense that they're going to give up this whole possibility for money? It would make sense to me, if it was me, that this would be a certain fulfillment of a life's work. Even better, the moment at which that life takes a step forward. All I'm saying is that these dudes should SIGN THE CONTRACT. Then, thank the universe that you've been given this chance. Then you get to go play football. Think of the fun. Good thing I'm not somebody's Momma. They'd have to get a security guard. I mean, for real, am I the only one? I know Jay-Z talks about it.

It's the Roc.

I can tell the future

So, they're out. The predictions. Andy Benoit's got them up. I'm happy to see the Eagles on top of the NFC East, though those injuries are sure making me nervous. Don't get me wrong, I think Andy Benoit is a great football thinker, and I read his page all the time, but what I can't figure out is how he, like much of the universe, is convinced that the Colts are the chosen team in the AFC South. This is a team sport guys. Peyton Manning might be one of the chosen few, but he only has one ring so far. (Someone should ask Big Ben what he thinks about that.) And I can't quite figure out why people are being so dismissive of the Titans.

Anyway, I'm calling it right now. The NFC North is going to be the most interesting division in the NFL this year. Not the best, the most interesting. Here's why:

#1: The Lions really stink. Really badly. Think zombie breath. That's the number one reason this'll be an interesting year. Golden Boy Matthew Stafford, who might be the real thing if the team manages his preparedness well, could be one hell of a story. Or one hell of a bust, if they let him go out there and get killed. And besides, Calvin Johnson is sick. And they've got Jim Schwartz, who you all probably know from the Titan's defense, which wreaked lots of havoc last year. All they need is one win and we've got a story. I predict it'll be September 21 against San Francisco. Otherwise, we might have to wait until the Tampa Bay game.

#2: The Vikings need a quarterback. I think Tavaris Jackson and Sage Rosenfels are both good enough to drive the boat, but I just don't know. QB competitions are rarely healthy, and this one may be detrimental to a team I would otherwise favor for the divisional title.

#3: Jay Cutler is a big fat tantrum waiting to happen. Again. He's already proven himself to be a total prima donna, and a big fat rocket for an arm isn't gonna keep his big fat mouth from opening. People need to stop riding his jock like they do Peyton's. And I'm totally intrigued with this Devin Hester is now a #1 receiver thing. Lastly, people think this could be the year that Matt Forte becomes, gasp, Adrian Peterson's equal or better. I'd love to see that.

#4: The Pack is on the way back. Probably not to the promised land, but I think this Rodgers guy is the real deal and I love Donald Driver. Unless someone important gets hurt or this defense blows up, I think the Packers will win at least 9 games and get the division. They might get past the Falcons, if the playoffs get scheduled like that. Otherwise, forget it. But we will see a change of leadership in the division.

Get out of my sphere

So, this is weird.

My wife does that Kundalini yoga stuff. Sometimes she goes with our librarian friend, who's like Pookie for the stuff.

Anyway, their leader, or at least the one who I think is their leader, or their enabler, or whatever you call the one at the front of the yoga room, has this idea that I actually think has merit. I'm not even lying.

She thinks everyone has a sphere.

At this point, I'm making up everything about this sphere idea. I don't do yoga, not because I have anything against it, though I think parts of it are nuts. But that isn't a consideration, cause I think most things have parts that are nuts. The Designated Hitter. Transubstantiation. People in Memphis who do 20 in a 40. You know who you are. Get off Poplar. I'm trying to get to the mall.

But I think this sphere thing is actually worth thinking about, even though I actually have no idea about any of it. I've just heard about it, which for me is often enough. The basic idea, or so I've invented it, according to what I believe the yoga leader probably said, is that our core/soul/whatever you want to call it can emit some kind of forcefield thing that the yogics at the Kundalini call a sphere. I've got one, you've got one, everybody's got their own sphere. I can't figure out if the cat has one, but he has a big, spherical belly, so I'm going with yes.

Now, I think this sphere has something to do with existing or being or some esoterica that only yogurt practicioners believe in.

Whatever.

I think it's a great idea cause it can help me shake off the haters, or block them, or block anyone who's annoying me, or asking stupid questions. It's like the Death Star, but actually indestructible.

Wicked.

Get out of my sphere.

Actually, you can't even get in.

My sphere is rubber, you're glue. Bounces off of my sphere and sticks to you, you non-sphere-having blubberducker.

But, then, earlier today I got to thinking about the sphere. Originally I thought that my sphere, or yours, or whoever's, had to be sort of immediate to the person. Like a forcefield. But then I got to thinking.

Can I get other stuff in the sphere?

Can I get my wife in here?

What about the cat?

Does his sphere dissolve when he's in mine?

Is that gross?

Can I drink beer in my sphere?

Where do the empties go?

What are the limits of my sphere?

What are its capabilities?

Is it yoga-proof?

Does it have laser beams?

See what I'm saying? It's an interesting notion. I don't know much about yogaing, but I have this thing about this idea about the sphere. It's totally fascinating. So I guess yoga isn't all that bad. But it sure is weird. I'm not even sphere shaped.

Just an observation

I am really beginning to love the Facebook.

See, not only does it allow me to catch up with people I haven't heard from in forever (apologies if I'm slow to respond and or catch on) but, even better, I can see what they look like.

It has also made me aware of something that I cannot help but share with you all.

There are a lot of dudes from New Jersey that I grew up with that are totally cock diesel.

If any of you need a definition of "cock diesel," just hit the weight room for about 15 years. You, too, can be cock diesel. Just like me.

Now, believe me, I'm not making any fun. These are dudes that I grew up with and am quite proud to continue to call friends, even if we aren't exactly in touch or have seen each other. These are the guys that I would take to a rumble without reserve. I'm little, but I'm from New Jersey, so I fight mean. And this bunch of dudes would seriously eat you alive.

So, the stereotypes might be true. Dudes from New Jersey are totally jacked. Ladies, just keep that in mind. We're not only charming, but we are physical specimens worthy of the Ancient Greeks.

When presented with this phenomenon, my wife immediately asked "What happened to you?"

Sweet.

I Got Your Quick Fix Right Here

So, NPR is all atwitter (can I say atwitter these days or does Twitter have the copyright?) about some guy named Bill Weir from ABC's Good Morning America Weekend Edition. Apparently, Mr. Weir (no relation to Bob, unfortunately) is doing some online work called "The Quick Fix" where we, the beloved newsivores, get "Unique, quirky, quality reporting from some of our most colorful characters. No news desk. No tele-prompter. No fancy camerawork. Just the facts, just the stories, just the wildly unexpected."

Big flippin' deal.

See the mountain. See the molehill.

I don't mean to sound more skeptical than usual, but isn't this called by a million other names? Editorializing comes to mind, as does podcasting, or, say, reporting the news. I mean, if giving an opinion isn't the news, then what the XYZPDQ am I to say about O'Reilly, Stewart, Colbert, Olbermann, Beck, and the rest?

I hereby declare this entire to do entirely worthless. All Bill Weir's got on the rest of us is a Journalism degree from Pepperdine (no disrespect there) and a job with ABC.

I'm going to get me some video cameras and fix this quick.

NPR, I got a million good stories to fill up the time. Holla!

It's not stealing if you're married to her

I feel like I should do something other than talk football, so here's this, which I'm considering a public service, which I hope will get me out of Purgatory.

By the way, something I'm angry about--every single time you see a replay of The Immaculate Reception, you never see Franco actually catch the ball. Watch where the cuts happen. It makes me nuts. Sabol, help me out.

If you're hungry:

Get a whole chicken.
Get the oven up to 350. Farenheit. Sorry celcioids, I just can't ever figure it out.

OK, I checked. It's about 176.

Remember to turn the oven on.

Take the guts and nastiness you don't want out of it.

Cut two onions, of your choosing, in half. Add a lemon if you want. Shove them up inside the chicken. Cover that sucker with olive oil and other goodness. I prefer paprika w/o the lemon. Rosemary. Anything spice drawer derived ought to be ok if you don't get too crazy.

Put it in a baking dish upside down (not the way that balances best) and bake that sucker in that oven for about 45 minutes. Flip it over. Cook for another 45. When it looks done, it probably is. If you're worried, or weird or like it overcooked or whatever your deal is, give it another 10 minutes. Cut it up and eat it. Or just stand there and tear it apart, which could be the advantageous method.

Don't think I know how to cook. I stole this one from my wife. But I'm the one that thinks paprika is the secret to making chicken, which is the fault of a friend of mine from college and his Hungarian Paprika Power t-shirt.

Oh, and know this:

The Titans are wearing Houston Oilers throwbacks this year. Don't think that D isn't coming like they did last year. Jason Jones is gonna eat quarterbacks this year. And when you see #93, his name is Kyle Vanden Bosch.

The Eagles Should Sign Michael Vick

Yeah, I'm saying it.

The Eagles should sign Michael Vick.

I've been reading and watching and hearing about all this for too long, longer than I care to and longer than I should have to. Longer than that damn Favre idiocy.

Due propers to these sites for already beginning the conversation.

Now, I'm not condoning what he's done. In fact, I kind of hate him for it. It was cruel, stupid, and preventable.

But I do believe in forgiveness. I learned it from a guy named Jesus, who has probably already been through the process with him and just wants to know where to rank Vaporub on his Fantasy list. I also know that we have something here in the US of A called double-jeopardy, which means that even Alex Trebek can't try someone twice for the same crime, which also means that Mr. Goodell should let Vick play right away. Jamie Dukes and others are right when they say that he's paid his legal prices and should not be further penalized by The NFL.

Besides, the Eagles, as they say here in Memphis, might could need him. Kevin Kolb just proved himself fragile, on top of already having proven himself somewhat less than acute of mind and aim. I'm not saying get rid of the kid. He, like Vince Young, Matt Leinart, Jason Campbell, Tavaris Jackson, and all the other young guys, deserves a chance. I know it's a kill or be killed league--Next Man Up and the like--but I don't think the Iggles should unceremoniously drop Kolb until his play, not an injury, demonstrates his inability.

Just sign Vick to a one or two year deal at the veteran minimum. Hell, give him a cool mil and call it insurance. I love Donovan McNabb. Those that don't need to congratulate. But I also know that D's got injury issues, and that makes me nervous. Getting Vicky Vale might just be the right solution for a minute, which is enough time to find out what's up with Kolb and get on with the season.

Oh, and Reggie, we don't care about your breakup with Kim Kardashian. Put your helmet on and play to your ability. That's all we ask. Save the rest for late February, when we're bored and perhaps ready to care.

Lindsay Soto, hit me up. I wanna work with you guys.

Notes on the Hall of Fame Game

OK, post #1 on this new blog. You can check out the earlier stuff on Art:21 here.

A few observations on last night's Hall of Fame Game, from the Titans perspective.

• Thank God for Kerry Collins. That little bootleg to Nate Washington in the First Quarter proved that things are looking up for what was a sometimes underwhelming passing game. We all know Kerry's got an arm with some power, but I can't remember when I last saw him roll out that swiftly and direct a play on the run like that.


• The right side of the O-line needs to block a little better. Chris Johnson hit the back end of the line more than he should have. This line is too good to not open up holes. Johnson's later carries again show that he's best when he can bounce it outside and turn on the jets, but he needs to get a hole now and again. Smashmouth doesn't work if the RB gets his mouth smashed. I'm glad Johnson got to get it up to 3rd or 4th gear later on, but I'm still waiting for overdrive.


• Speaking of...LenDale looks like he's in for another productive year. The new svelte LenDale had me worried that he wouldn't be as effective in goal line situations. I like being wrong about these things.


• Can someone give Vince Young a break? Now, I'm as ready as the next guy to cut bait when the situation demands it, but I just don't know yet. Granted, I'm not in that locker room, but Vince did ok last night. His interception was unfortunate. It looked to me like he thought left when the play went right, which is the kind of mental error that can't be tolerated, especially since he's prone to making them under pressure, late in the game. That was a nice TD pass, though he needs to send Paul Williams a card. I think it was Collinsworth who made a nice point about Vince getting mixed signals. Apparently, some people are telling Vince to check his first option, then run while others are telling him to go through the progression. Can we bump running to the third or fourth priority? These WRs and TEs are good and numerous enough to get the job done. Vince, I want you to be a Hall of Famer, but you got to use your eyes and head before your feet. You've got a good team, so this isn't all on you.


• Hey Patrick Ramsey, welcome to the team. Glad to have you.


• Alge Crumpler needs to go on with his bad self and all that pass catching. Get that big body up in the air and pull more down.


• Somebody give Trapasso a hug for me. People never believe me when I tell them that kickers are my favorite players, but I might have to add punters to that as well. And I loves me a trick play.


• Hey, TO. Nice catches, man. Good to see you on the field this year. People, say it with me...don't hate, congratulate.

OK, I'm out. Please keep reading. I want to get famous on this.

Rich Eisen, get in touch. I want to come work with you.