The time has come, ladies and gentlefolk. (We're actually starting a little bit late.) The 2008 Sportshuman Of The Year awards are about to grace you with their presence, and, as always, we need your nominations over here.
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Of all the Guns 'N Roses stories, the "Rocket Queen" one is my favorite. When "Appetite For Destruction" was recorded, the moaning sounds on the album's closer (which might be my favorite G'N'R song, actually), were captured while Adriana Smith, a 19-year-old stripper who had been dating drummer Steven Adler, was having sex with Axl Rose.More »
Most discussed Cherokee Parks Was Misunderstood: Most homoerotic GNR line:
What you pissed off cuz your dad gets more pussy than you? Fuck you Suck my fuckin' more »
Like many of you, my heart sank last week when I learned that Fire Joe Morgan announced they were hanging up their purple spikes after, as they put it, "21 years, and almost 40 million posts." Fire Joe Morgan was one of the reasons I got into this blogging game — and what a game it is! — and I'm sure I'm far from alone. While your tributes keep filing in, I'm proud to have had the opportunity to sit down with the FJM crew last week and talk to them about their "decision."
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I don't remember where I saw it, but about a year-and-a-half ago, in one of those "Hey, there's a cool black guy running for President!" stories, the writer posited that Barack Obama, if he were to somehow win (crazy!), would have something immediately in common with John F. Kennedy: He could destroy a famed aspect of men's formal sartorial culture. That is to say: They thought he was going to kill the tie.
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Most discussed RagingRomones: I was watching "Morning Joe" at the gym on Monday when host Joe Scarborough accidentally unleashed his "Fuck you" on more »
Well, it's here. When I was a kid, Election Night was one of the few nights of the year I was allowed to stay up past 8:30. (Seriously, my bedtime was 8:30 until I was a freshman in high school. And you wonder why I still wet the bed.) I never knew who any of the candidates were, or even what the "D" and the "R" next to their names meant — sometimes I'm not sure I know now — but it was like having 100 different sporting events going on at once, with updates coming every 20 minutes. We didn't have cable. This was as close as I had to March Madness. I loved it.
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All right, so the world is imploding. You know this. I know this too, though only because the Wassup Guys told me. Surely, these are the last days, before the global apocalypse rids the planet of humans and leaves only some cockroaches, a few stray strands of hair and, of course, Kermit, because Kermit is an indestructible force of shocking malevolence. This is not the way I thought it would go down. I assumed, like the rest of you, it would be the robots.
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The World Series is truly my favorite week of the year. Having the World Series going on is an excuse that gets you out of anything, every year. No matter what plans I might be forced into, all I have to say is, "Hey, the World Series is on," and people understand. You know how Will gets about his baseball ...More »
So over the weekend, the two candidates for President — Sen. Barack Obama, head of a Muslim sleeper cell, and Sen. John McCain, organizer of the first Hanoi chapter of the Ku Klux Klan — spoke at the Al Smith Dinner, a big Catholic charity event held in Manhattan right before the elections every year. Each of them made a bunch of jokes, and, all told, they were both pretty funny. (Not surprisingly, the best jokes were about the Clintons.) This was covered in the political press as a curiosity, like, "Hey, look, they don't really hate each other! When they think no one is looking, they talk like normal people!" And then everyone went back to talking about William Ayers and being "erratic" and everything that made everyone want to turn off the debates. Like the Al Smith thing never happened.
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I turned 33 over the weekend. There's something inherently sad about a single 33-year-old man hosting his own birthday party. I remember when my father turned 33; I was 11. It was my parents, my sister and myself eating tacos and watching the Cardinals game. That was pretty fun. I've had birthday bashes pretty much every year since high school, and each year brings diminishing returns. At a certain point, you look around and realize, "Man, this is just a bunch of old people drinking because there's nothing else to do." That was probably true before; I guess I just never noticed.
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