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There. Are. No. Words.
Britney Beasley, he means…
P.S. An elephant? WTF?
The USTA/USPTA (United States Tennis Association) rep came Monday to take my picture. Looks like I’ll be in their September issue of ADDvantage magazine. How cool is that!
I’m trying not to think of how hard up they must’ve been to put me in.
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I’m in a movie! No, not one of them Paris Hilton home movies… a real one!
The 2 of y’all who actually read this blog may remember that a couple of years ago I ran a marathon with my buddy Dean Karnazes. At the time, he was running *50 marathons in 50 states in 50 days*. I know, right?
A film crew followed us around on bikes and trucks and vans and whatever, and long story short, it’s a movie now, “Ultramarathon Man.”
It premieres tomorrow night. I’m going to the Memphis premiere at the Paridiso Theatre on Mendenhall. If you are around and drunk bored interested, you should totally come and let me give you my autograph!
I’m now going to spend the rest of the day trying to decide who should be my celebrity date for the red carpet… Britney? Paris? Both?!
Here’s a look…
By the time most of you nerds awesome people read this, I’ll be in New York City to run the Nike race with Lance Armstrong on Sunday.
I’m sure that when we meet he will totally want to hang out with me, hoping that some of my coolness will rub off on him.
Shut up.
I’ll post pics and my usual dorky crap on Twitter. Follow along.
Oh and P.S., the race Sunday is on ESPN-something (2? 4? Ocho?)
The Netflix people are probably sending a couple of thugs to my house right now to give me a wedgie or something on account of how long I’ve had the new John Mayer Live DVD, Where the Light Is.
I sit around in my underwear watching the video and pretending I’m him. You know how I roll.
“Free Fallin’” isn’t as good as his “Stop This Train” (do yourself a favor and go download it on iTunes right now–I swear there are chords in that song that will change your world from black n white to technicolor), but it’s still fun…
(YouTube wants you to watch this only on their site. The losers. Click here to go there.)
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Back in the day, I used to bust the sag.
“Back in the day” means, like, middle school, and “bust the sag” means, like, the Beasleys were too poor for belts.
I don’t really want to see your tighty whiteys. Apparently, neither do people in Michigan, where it will now get you arrested. They are really crackin’ down there. Hee-hee.
Oh and P.S., in case you didn’t know, that brings “saggin’” full circle–it was started in prisons (no belts allowed there).
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Well. I saw it. Twice. Being the big nerd fan I am.
My butt went numb both times! How looong is this thing?!
It was like that Titanic movie I had to sit through three times when it came out. I mean, the Titanic movie was actually longer than the sinking of the Titanic!
Annnyway, back to Batman, I got lost in the plot. Both times. I’ve only got 3 college degrees–it was way out of my league.
The Joker was the best thing about it. But I kept waiting for him to say something way cool. I’d have had him say something like, “It’s time to kick ass and chew gum. And I’m all out of gum.”
I am a genius.
Shut up.
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The Hottie and the…Nottie.
What is my future wife doing with that douchebag loser?
Annnyway, Jessica had her baby, so congrats. She’ll prolly be calling me to take a paternity test any day.
Holla!
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I own every issue of The New Yorker magazine ever published. (I have been a subscriber for years, and then–for a great Christmas present–my friend Trent got me all the back issues on DVD-ROM.)
All the bitching idiocy over the CARTOON on the cover has caused me to dig my fingernails into my palms so deep I’ve drawn blood. People on the internets is stoopid mostly.
Annnyway, I wrote the editor to give him a “Bravo!” for standing up and basically saying “Screw those morons.” Here’s the auto-response I got back…
Thank you for writing. We appreciate your comments and we’ll do our best to respond.
About this week’s issue: Our cover, “The Politics of Fear,” combines a number of fantastical images about the Obamas and shows them for the obvious distortions they are. The burning flag, the nationalist-radical and Islamic outfits, the fist-bump, the portrait on the wall— all of them echo one attack or another. Satire is part of what we do, and it is meant to bring things out into the open, to hold up a mirror to prejudice, the hateful, and the absurd. And that’s the spirit of this cover. In this same issue you will also see that there are two very serious articles on Barack Obama inside—Hendrik Hertzberg’s Comment, (http://www.newyorker.com/talk/comment/2008/07/21/080721taco_talk_hertzberg) and Ryan Lizza’s 15,000-word reporting piece on the candidate’s political education and rise in Chicago (http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2008/07/21/080721fa_fact_lizza).
Thank you again for your letter, and for reading The New Yorker.
It’s called SATIRE, people!
Honest to God I think some folks should sue the public school they went to.
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