Tiger…Tiger. Burnout? Quite.

Allow me to add my 2 cents to the Scrooge McDuck pile of opinions on the matter of Mr. Eldrick Tiger Woods.

People are talking a lot about Tiger Woods these days, and some of my friends like to mention how he is half Thai.  Thai people are not that surprised that he had lots of “gig” or “dek,” terms which are not as romantic as mistress but translate more as playthings (or “F buddies” if you want to be crude about it).

Thai people may be more understanding, but not sympathetic, because he has never seemed to embrace his Thai heritage;  I doubt he can even speak Thai much more than your average sexpat.  But it is a little astounding how he thought he could get away with it.  In a way he’s like the Bernie Madoff of quivering dicks.

But if he can keep winning tournaments, then all will be forgiven.  Because there is nothing that people like better than a winner, even if he is an unfaithful prick.   Just look at Michael Jordan for an example.

My favorite Tiger jokes regarding the whole incident?  Here are my Top 5.

5.  Tiger hit a fire hydrant and a tree because he couldn’t decide between a wood and an iron.

4. From SNL: “Last Friday, Tiger Woods hit a tree and a bunch of ladies fell out.”

3. Nike (“Just do it.”) and Gatorade (“Is it in you?”) are sticking with Tiger because he’s just following orders.

2. What’s the difference between a car and a golf ball? Tiger can drive a ball 400 yards.

1. You are supposed go get a hole in one, not one in eighteen holes!

Honorable Mention: Tiger’s Answering Machine Message Slow Jam

Tex in the City (NSFW)

[Due to the adult nature of this post, if you are under eighteen or easily offended, I highly recommend you stop reading right now]

Thanks to the magic of Blackberry Messenger, I am able to have real-time conversations with friends halfway around the world.  One of them is Tex, an old roommate from college who has managed to reach his early thirties unattached despite being relatively handsome, making good money, and not having a criminal record.   It’s not to say he is unlucky, but his reliable wingmen got hitched and put out to pasture, leaving him rolling with rogues who would tell a girl he had genital herpes if they thought it would improve their chances of scoring with some drunk skanks.  True friends indeed.

One of my theories of why this highly eligible bachelor is so unlucky is that he is too nice.  Sure, girls like nice guys, but they are not excited by them.  As Trent once said in Swingers, “You take yourself out of the game, you start talking about puppy dogs and ice cream and of course it’s going to end up on the friendship tip.”  My personal mission is to remind him that he is like a big bear with claws and fangs.

Things have been turning around for Tex lately, as he’s finally been heeding my advice and stopped being so freaking nice.  Lately he’s been on a roll, and with his permission, I am sharing one of our frank and open conversations.  Vladimir and Estragon we may not be, but if you find it half as entertaining as I do, then I will share more later.

A little background for this one.

Tex met Destiny through mutual friends.  He showed me a picture of her, and I approved because instead of being the pixie cheerleader-type blondes he usually prefers, she had a lithe figure with chestnut hair and a flawless complexion.  Oh, and she has a 14-year old son.  Because of the economic downturn, she lost her job and was now working as a bartender.  Or so we thought.  Recently she came clean, confessing that she was now working as an exotic dancer at a prominent gentleman’s club.

Despite this revelation, Tex’s interest (and mine) were not dampened, but heightened.  Sometimes I think I may be even more excited about this prospect then he is.  I was the one who nicknamed her Destiny, which is a stereotypical stripper pseudonym.  Also, since she already has a 14 year old son, I figured I could get some mileage calling him Destiny’s Child.

(Look, I said it was adult, I didn’t promise this would be mature)

Enjoy.

Tex: Heading out w/ Destiny tomorrow
Tex: She has definitely embraced the dancer lifestyle
Jackberry: Really?
Jackberry: Is she on coke or x?
Tex: A few weeks ago she was worried about $$$
Jackberry: Does she have a girlfriend yet?
Tex: Now she moved out from her roommate to get a place of her own
Tex: Is flying to New York in December for vacation
Tex: And is buying all new living room furniture
Tex: No news on the coke/ girlfriend front
Jackberry: So much for saving up
Tex: Yep
Jackberry: Is her son rocking a pair of new Jordans?
Tex: Given she has a high school degree in this economy, only stripping can support this new lifestyle
Tex: No, but he just got new braces
Jackberry: Does she have a new neck tattoo to go with the lower back tat?
Tex: Lol.. It’s not on her back, it’s on her lower belly
Jackberry: Okay, marginally classier
Tex: I forgot she had that
Tex: Actually, I’d prefer the lower back
Tex: Maybe she can laser that off with the new cash flow
Jackberry: You should gently remind her that earning $1200 a night is not the norm
Jackberry: She’s the new girl
Jackberry: If she doesn’t cultivate a strong client base, they will just move on to the next hot young thing
Jackberry: She’ll have to move to a new market
Jackberry: Tampa, then Miami
Tex: No doubt. Penetrate new markets
Jackberry: But if she’s not careful she might find herself working the lunch shift at Cafe Risqué
Tex: Yep… I already see this ending in disaster
Tex: She’s setting herself up for a lifestyle she can’t sustain
Tex: Even her dad posted on her Facebook “way to save $$$”
Tex: But either way, that isn’t my problem… My problem is making sure she doesn’t flake out between now & Sunday
Jackberry: Careful dad, you about to be unfriended
Jackberry: Wow, 24 hours of uncertainty
Jackberry: Not a fortuitous sign for this budding relationship
Jackberry: Are those wedding bells I hear?
Jackberry: Nope, that’s police sirens
Tex: It’s like ordering porn online
Tex: It’s ordered sex, but now it’s the wait to see if it delivers
Jackberry: Are you going to ask her to show you a dance?
Tex: If things go well… Yes
Tex: And I’m going to ask her to wear that stripper lotion on the date
Tex: And maybe call her Destiny all night
Jackberry: I want a full report
Jackberry: Think of it as something for our kids to read [and my blog followers]
Tex: I’ll send you pics…
Tex: Oh wait, my phone sucks
Jackberry: Damn your phone!
Jackberry: Leave out no detail, however minor it might seem
Tex: Did I tell you about 2 weekends ago when Tattoo [a girl he met online] & I were texting, then she sent me a pic text of her vibrator & a bottle of lube with the caption, “and so it begins”
Jackberry: No, and what did you say?
Tex: Me: that’s a serious piece of equipment… You need help with that?
Tex: Her: only if you have good porn you can bring
Tex: Me: I can take care of that, but you had better answer the door in something slutty
Tex: Her: get over here
Jackberry: And then???
Tex: She was in a dark purple corset & g-string
Jackberry: Zing!
Tex: Very hot
Jackberry: What did you bring over?
Tex: Yep
Tex: Cum swapping sluts & high school gang bang
Jackberry: Ahh, the classics
Tex: Kidding… Jenna in the Middle (wanted 3some action because she hinted about wanting to try it)
Tex: And chicks love Jenna
Jackberry: She’s got bi-friendly charisma
Tex: Very
Tex: She’s the California roll of porn
Jackberry: Great analogy!
Tex: Thanks… Feel free to use it in conversation
Jackberry: I’ll have to force it in like a ladyboy in Jimmy Choos a size too small
Jackberry: But I’ll make it happen
Tex: Lol… Please take a pic of their faces when they try to figure out how that was related to the conversation at hand
Tex: But she’s never tried it but said she’s give it a try if she meets the right girl that will go at her pace
Jackberry: So how was it?
Tex: Oh, and she loved the porn choice
Tex: We watched a few scenes with her taking it all in before getting to work
Jackberry: You are a crowd pleaser
Tex: I do what I can… I’m a giver
Jackberry: A little reverse cowgirl while she watches?
Tex: Nope… Started gashing her w/ the vibrator before going down on her before she got on top
Jackberry: Wow
Tex: 1 with the vibrator, 1 with oral, & 1 on top
Jackberry: She must looooooove you
Jackberry: I bet she’d be down with some nasty picture taking
Tex: Lol I’ll ask her next time… She said she loves my tongue. She said she hates this “fuck buddies” set-up, but said she can’t stop thinking about how good I am at licking pussy
Tex: So she deals with the f-buddies thing until she finds a boyfriend
Jackberry: That’s cool

Tex: Yeah, I told her I can live with that as long as she keeps answering the door in things like that

Jackberry: Everyone wins!

 

Irish Eyes are (Not) Smiling

Le Sulk Celebrates!

The big news this week in the tribal world of football is France’s play-off win over Ireland to qualify for next summer’s FIFA World Cup Finals to be held in South Africa.  This would not cause many ripples outside the tempestuous teapots of Ireland and France, where entry into the WC Finals is almost life or death.  National pride is on the line for each country’s fans, while the players have to wait four years for the chance to represent their country on the biggest stage in world sports.

For a footballing nation not to qualify for the World Cup is like celebrating Christmas without snow, you know it’s doable (and still meaningful) but it just doesn’t feel right.

Of course, this analogy dovetails well with Thailand.  Passionate (some would say stark raving mad) as we are about the sport, Southeast Asia’s football powerhouse has never made it to a World Cup final.¹  It also never snows here, so if either freak occurrence were to happen, it would probably be a good sign that Armageddon is upon us.  Let’s hope John Cusack is around to save us all.

The Irish have qualified for three Finals in their history, while the French have made 12 Final appearances (lifting the trophy in 1998).   Each country would feel devastated not to make it to South Africa, which is just about the only thing they have in common (except hating the English, of course).  And now they were meeting in a play-off² to determine who earns one of the final UEFA slots to South Africa 2010.

Last week, France won the first leg of the playoff in Ireland 1-0, which meant Ireland needed to win 2-0 (or 2-1 as away goals count more) in the return leg in France to clinch a World Cup berth.  If Ireland won 1-0 at the end of regulation, then they would settle the match through penalty kicks, which is basically a crap shoot that depends more on luck than skill (except in the case of ze Germans, who are lethal when it comes to penalty kicks).

The second leg played in France started brightly for Ireland, as they scored the first goal and were leading 1-0 at the end of 90 minutes.  Since on aggregate they were now tied 1-1, they had to play extra time.

Then France stole the game–and a ticket to the World Cup–with a clear handball by Barcelona striker Thierry Henry.

Watch it here:

(Not sure how long this link will last, as SportFive who owns the rights to this broadcast is taking shit down faster than Scientologists who see references to intergalactic lord Xenu.)

The Irish are understandably furious that Frenchie has stolen its World Cup Lucky Charms.  In subsequent interviews, Henry sheepishly admits that it was a handball, though somewhat disingenuously implies that it was an accident (you can see in the video the first touch may have been, but the second was deliberate).  And to pour salt on Irish wounds, France was clearly offside when the free kick was taken, which should have negated the goal before it happened.

The press are having a field day, referring to the Hand of God.  This is a reference to Argentinian legend Diego Maradona, whose infamous handball helped sink England in the 1986 World Cup quarterfinals.

Volleyball Legend, Diego Maradona

References to Thierry Henry and “Le Main de Dieu, Part Deux” reminds us of one Robbie Fowler³, the mercurial goalscorer whose nickname while playing for Liverpool was simply “God.”  As an example of fair-play, Fowler once pleaded with a referee to waive a penalty that was given in error.  When the referee refused to do so, the fair-minded striker took the spot kick himself and gently rolled it straight to the bemused goalkeeper.

Henry’s defense, while admitting it was a handball, is that the onus is on the referee to spot that sort of thing.  Now Ireland is appealing to FIFA for a replay, to which the governing body has replied “Fat chance, go drown yourselves in single malt, you croiying potato-eaters.”

Despite incidents like this happening all the time within national leagues and international play, FIFA and UEFA are staunchly against the use of video replay, defending their stance with the flimsiest of excuses.  As athletes get faster and stronger and use lighter, more advanced equipment, and with the huge amount of money at stake, the sport continues to rely on just four fallible human referees.

So incidents like this will continue to happen in the future.  One team will benefit, the other will cry foul.  Life goes on.  With luck playing such a major role, perhaps the penalty shootout is a fitting way to decide a stalemate.

Nein?

Ja!

***

As an aside, a significant component of fair play is winning and losing with grace and humility.  To have bested your opponent on the field does not require rubbing it in the fallen warrior’s face.  Being an unmannerly winner can be just as bad as being a sore loser.  That being said, allow me to present Exhibit X:

Now it is one thing to waste lawmaker’s time and taxpayer’s money dressed in a garish graduation robe, clumsily reading a speech that you obviously didn’t write, but it is quite another to brazenly brag about the accomplishments of a team when you had absolutely no role in its success or failure.

And yes, I graduated from the same fine edjumacational institution as this lady.  Go Gators!

 

 

¹I love hearing the excuse “our players are too short.”  You don’t see Japan, a country not known for fielding beanpoles like the Netherlands, making that excuse as they have made it twice.  The real reason?  Thai athletes lack collective discipline.  More on that another time…

²Since each region can only send a set number of national teams to the Finals in South Africa, they have qualification tournaments.  The European (UEFA) region, sends 13 national teams, of which nine automatically qualify for winning their groups, then eight of the teams finished second in their qualifying groups play four playoff games to determine the last four UEFA entries into the 2010 World Cup Finals.  Confused?  Try not to think about why Europe is allowed 13 teams in the World Cup finals compared to Africa (5) and Asia (4).

³ This is the same Robbie Fowler who celebrated a goal against Everton by pretending to snort a giant line of cocaine.  And then again, Maradona once tested positive for cocaine.  Ah, the circle of life!

 

 

Almost Phish Fooled

Last night my wife received the following email:

—–Original Message—–
From:   “Manager Tisha Luna” <delivery@dhl-usa.com>
Date:   Thu, 15 Oct 2009 10:08:43
To: <mook@******.***>
Subject: DHL service. You should get the parcel! Delivery NR.04638

Hello!

The courier company was not able to deliver your parcel by your address.
Cause: Error in shipping address.

You may pickup the parcel at our post office personaly!

Please note!
The shipping label is attached to this e-mail.
Please print this label to get this package at our post office.
Thank you for attention.
DHL Services.

She was worried because it might have been something she needed for work and it seemed official looking. I was even unsure upon first reading, but assured here it was 100% a scam for the following reasons:

• Poor grammar.  “You should get the parcel!” Really? They were not able to deliver your parcel by your address? “We should pick it up personaly?”  I already knew these scammers were not the brightest fish in the barrel.  Nice to see they haven’t discovered Elements of Style.

 

• Notice no specific contact information, the only thing they instructed was to download the “shipping label” in the attached zip file.  Now anytime you open up an unknown zip or exe, that’s like doing a hooker in Southern Africa with no condom, you open yourself up to any number of scary viruses and bugs.

 

• Just out of curiosity, I hit reply and asked for more information.  Surprise, the email address was not valid.  

After presenting all this evidence, my wife was still not 100% convinced.  But she allowed me to delete the offending email, and move on to more important business.  Like helping the nice Nigerian lady recover $17 million dollars her husband hid from the government. 

***

News has been obsessed about some kid that allegedly floated away on a helium balloon, before everyone realized that he was actually hiding in the attic.  I don’t think anything can better illustrates how the collective media from established news outfits to buzz-hungry microblogging sites, for all its omniprescence in daily life, is dumber than ever.  Most days I feel like the news has become a combination of US Magazine and a high school rumor mill.  As much as I tried to avoid, it I was forced to read about young Falcon’s adventures. I feel it would have been a more productive use of my time to have played this highly addictive balloon popping game instead.  I like to imagine the whole Heene family is in these balloons along with the cast of The Hills, Jon and Kate, and the Kardashians.

Dan Brown’s Lost Syntax

 

O.U.Red.1.2.?

At first I had a nice chuckle at this column, tearing into Dan Brown for crafting some awkward sentences.  

The Da Vinci Code, opening sentence: Renowned curator Jacques Saunière staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum’s Grand Gallery.

Angels and Demons, opening sentence: Physicist Leonardo Vetra smelled burning flesh, and he knew it was his own.

Deception Point, opening sentences: Death, in this forsaken place, could come in countless forms. Geologist Charles Brophy had endured the savage splendor of this terrain for years, and yet nothing could prepare him for a fate as barbarous and unnatural as the one about to befall him.

Professor Pullum: “Renowned author Dan Brown staggered through his formulaic opening sentence”.

 It does come off a little bit harsh and pedantic (especially the number one reason mocking Brown because Da Vinci was not Leonardo’s real last name…well duh, that’s how everyone knows him).  If you are a literary snob, it is not like you need any more evidence of why Dan Brown is a shitty writer.  He is no Thomas Pynchon, where literary critics breathlessly analyze every sentence to decipher layers of meaning, and he is also not as gifted as John Updike was with prose, but there is no doubt Brown knows how to spin a yarn.  Find me anyone who sells 80 million books, and you will find a sizable population of haters.  Thankfully, the internet allows them to share their mutual abhorrence, anonymously and vehemently.

 What I always say is hey, at least people are reading.  So maybe people won’t jump straight from Brown’s latest bestseller Lost Symbols (or Twilight or Harry Potter) into Ulysses.  But (hopefully) it might turn into a habit, maybe a copy of Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto.  Then maybe Blink or Watchmen.  Eventually they are flying through Hemingway and Vonnegut and the Brontë sisters, before tackling weighty tomes like Infinite Jest and Three Kingdoms.  Hopefully.

 Now if you insist on hating an author, I offer you Tom Clancy.  I admit to having read some of his books (Red Storm Rising and The Hunt for Red October were quite entertaining) but as it became more evident how he held Asians in such low regard, I say: “Go to hell, Tom Clancy.  And take your half-billion dollar empire with you.”

Watch Out For (Digital) Pickpockets

It Could Happen To You

In this IT-intensive era, it is easier than ever to prey on the unwitting and too-trusting.   Risk vs reward makes the glory days of good old-fashioned bank robbery obsolete, when all you need these days is a fast computer running password cracking applications to embark on a new career as an information-super-highwayman.

In my opinion, identity thieves should all go to prison and be cast down with the Sodomites, so they know what it is like to be humped by a train.  But there are a few easy ways you can help protect yourself from losing your savings and good credit to a wannabee Morpheus in Shenzhen.  Or even worse, to your trusted personal assistant.

More Secure Passwords

 One of the easiest and best methods of creating a super-secure password is using a mnemonic device.  Take a sentence incorporating numbers that is easy for you to remember, and use the first letter of each word for the password.  For example, if you have a yahoo mail account you might say “Yahoo! It’s been 5 years since I quit smoking heroin” and translate that to yib5siqsh.  It is also a good idea to change your password every few months.

 Also, if you set up a security question, make sure you make it difficult for anyone to guess.  Would-be identity thieves can probably figure out where you went to elementary school and your favorite pet through your Facebook profile.

 Beware of Phishers

 Aside from emails promising longer, thicker cocks for your woman or asking for help getting millions of dollars worth of dubious funds out of Nigeria, a popular scam is phishing, or sending an email which appears to be from a bank or websites like eBay or PayPal asking you to confirm your account, usually asking you to enter your password and personal information.  

 In the beginning, these emails were very amateur, with dodgy spelling (like from Bonk of Amerrica) and slapdash format that made it easy to tell right away.  But nowadays, phishers are getting really clever.  When you hover the cursor over the link they ask you to follow, it might say www.bankofamericasecuritysite.co.tv or something official looking, but NEVER click on those links.  Besides directing you to a legitimate looking site designed to fool you into entering sensitive private information, it might try to upload a worm or spyware onto your computer. 

 The rule of thumb is this:  any email that asks to to update your account information by directing you to another site is probably a scam.  If in doubt, pick up the phone and call the institution in question about what they want from you.

Sharing is Not Always Caring

If you log onto a shared computer (say, at an internet café or hotel) to check your email or Facebook, be wary that a dastardly program called a keystroke logger might exist.  This embedded program records everything you type and could be used to mine sensitive information.  

To guard against this, you can add another layer of security when logging in.  If you are using a computer running Windows XP, you can open what is called a virtual keyboard, which pops up on screen and allows you to enter information with the mouse (which is much less likely to be tracked).  To access it:

 On the Start menu, Go to All Programs, then point to Accessories, then point to Accessibility, then Select On–Screen Keyboard.

 If there is no onscreen keyboard, a quick-and-dirty solution is using the Notepad application.  Open this and start typing a string of random characters which you can cut-and-paste into the password field.  As an example from our previous Yahoo heroin password example (yib5siqsh), you can type something like:

 fkas0Aas31yib5fb34nyfuckuidentitythievesiqshfs345fhellood

 Then, cut and paste your password from the gibberish (I broke it up here into two blocks to make it even more difficult).

 When you are done, you can also go into the browser menu and delete your browsing history (Delete Browser History under Tools for Internet Explorer, click ‘Clear Now’ button in the Private Data section under Options).

 Social Security is Not So Secure

For Americans, a unique social security number is still the most popular means of confirming identity when filling out official documents.  In reality, this nine-digit number was not meant to be a panacea for identification, and might even be guessed based on an algorithm of when and where a person is born. 

 That being said, it is the best they have for the time being, so be careful to whom you give this information.  It is often surprising how often you are asked for your social security number (or identification card number) when filling out questionnaires.  If it is not a financial transaction (like applying for a loan or credit card, or opening up a bank account) why would they need that?  Leave it blank, and if it turns out they really need it, they can call you and explain why they need this information just for a discount card at Sam’s Club or when opening a VIP membership at Poseidon.

 Secretary of (your) Treasury

 Having a secretary or personal assistant can be a boon, helping make your life more efficient and convenient.  Working with someone a long time, eventually a level of comfort and trust builds up where you might ask them to perform financial transactions on your behalf.  Speaking with many people who have been burned by such associations, it is clear you should NEVER completely trust an employee, especially when they have access to all your personal information.

 Here in Thailand, this kind of abuse is more common than you think.  A personal assistant can be hired for as little as 10,000 baht per month, and despite being given regular bonuses and raises in salary, there is often too much temptation for these employees not to exploit a generous and trusting (or oblivious) boss.  Just to illustrate, a very well-known Thai politician was unknowingly swindled for hundreds of thousands of baht when it was discovered his housekeeper stole an ATM card and had been withdrawing money from his account over several years, and I know a prominent businessman whose found out his assistant would take out a little something extra for herself whenever he asked her to make a withdrawal.

 What can you do to protect yourself?

 

•  First, NEVER allow anyone to sign anything on your behalf.  Yes, it may be convenient to have your assistant withdraw money from the bank to take care of the bills if you don’t have time or if you are out of town, but if they start practicing your John Hancock, you never know where it will stop.

 

•  Periodically check with the credit bureau.  Make sure someone has not been applying for loans or credit cards under your name.  There are too many credit card companies that offer easy credit to anyone who can provide the bares minimum correct personal information.  And who is liable for all that debt your cheating employee accrued?  If you cannot adequately prove a fraud occurred, then you are.

 

• Make sure all your credit card and bank statements come to your home address and not your office.  If you are very busy and need someone to help take care of your bills, this way you can take a look at them before delegating, taking note of suspicious transactions.  Another option that is popular in the USA that will eventually become standard practice here in Thailand is paying bills directly online.  In the meantime, if I can not pay a bill directly, I often take care of it myself through my bank. 

 

• Keep a tight leash.  Make sure you have all the relevant personal information of your assistant on file.  This includes a copy of their ID, home address, and registered residence.  If you have to go to the police to track them down, then all this information will come in handy.

 

Thai police can be deliberately obtuse and lazy, especially if you don’t have juice through family connections with politicians, police, and army.  The sad reality?  If you walk into the police station expecting them to help you because it is their job, then you will be a sorely disappointed citizen (who will probably waste most of your day waiting for help).  Pull whatever strings you have to and make it clear from the start it is in their best interest to put down that doughnut and help you expediently.

Another tip, if you are able to convince your wayward assistant to go to the police station with you when you file a report, great.  Even if you have them sign a confession, make sure you have them also initial the police report.  Also gather whatever hard evidence of fraud you can through the bank and/or credit card companies.  The chances of recovering stolen money may be slim, but if you want justice to be served, sometimes you have to spoon feed our boys in brown.

 

Any other suggestions?  Please leave them in the comments section below.  Thanks!

The Endangered Class

 

Back before he sold Jell-O pudding and became the patron saint of black gentrification with The Cosby Show, Bill Cosby hosted Picture Pages and was the creative force behind Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids.  He did all the voices of the kids, including one little wannabee pimp named Rudy.  When he disapproved of someone’s behavior he would come up with a rejoinder “Man, you are like school on Saturday.  No class.”

Classiness is an endangered species these days.  Some of us were foolish to believe that the recent election of a cerebral president who thinks before he speaks, weighing his words carefully, always with the big picture in mind, would usher in a new era of politeness.  But alas, Mahmoud Ahmedinejad is yet another false dawn.

Look around the world of sports.  Over the weekend, former Arsenal striker Emmanuel Adebayor scored a goal for his new team Manchester City over his old team.  Following longstanding tradition, players do not usually celebrate goals against former teams, at least not overtly.  Instead, Adebayor broke with tradition by running the length of the field to taunt the Arsenal away fans, inflaming an acrimonious situation.  And for the record, delibrately stepping on an ex-teammate’s face isn’t going to win him any Lady Bing trophies either.

In college football, you have University of Tennessee head coach Lane Kiffin trying to rouse his fanbase (and unsettle his rivals) by accusing University of Florida coach Urban Meyer of cheating (when he, uh,  didn’t) and boasting about how he looked forward to singing Rocky Top all night long after beating the Florida Gators at their home stadium (before he has ever coached his first game).

Michael Jordan is inducted into the Basketball Hall of Fame and gives a speech dripping of egotism, basically saying “Fuck You!” to everyone who didn’t believe in him, somehow missing the point that he is widely celebrated as the greatest athlete of all time.  As I was born in Chicago, I am appreciative of everything he has done to lift the city’s spirits as a sports town, and while I admire him as the preeminent basketball player in history, for all his charisma he doesn’t strike me as very likeable.

The gentile sports of tennis and golf are not immune.  At the U.S. Open Championship, Serena Williams threatens a line judge with bodily harm, in the process forfeiting a semi-final match.  And whenever Tiger Woods hits a bad shot, you should probably tell your kids to earmuff it.

Not that the world of showbiz is a place to look for ideal behavior, but look at what has transpired over the past few months.  With Kanye West’s outburst, everyone was shocked, but it became front page news because he raised the bar on unacceptable behavior.  I think a lot of people, even as they shook their heads, were secretly thrilled to take notice of something notable over the mass media cacaphony.

These days we cannot even expect our leaders to behave, as the right-vs-left internet proxy war has bled into the halls of Congress, with Joe Wilson yelling out “You lie!” during President Obama’s address to the nation regarding health care.  Rational argument has taken a backseat to polarizing soundbites, while circus barkers like Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck command more attention than sedate eggheads like David Brooks, and they are not above calling the President everything from a socialist  to a racist.

We in Thailand don’t really have much room to criticize, having elected the combative Samak Sundaravej as a Prime Minister and massage parlor kingpin Chuwit Kamolvisit to the house of representatives, while strongman Chalerm Yubumrung is still big pimping as House minority leader.

What happened?  Is there really more of a lack of good manners or does it just seem that way because of the immediacy of today’s media?  Only a decade ago, the story of John McCain making an insulting joke about First Daughter Chelsea Clinton died like a fart in the wind.  Today, elements of the blogosphere and Twitterati regularly magnify molehills into the Mount Everest of the day through sheer hyperbole and fiery rhetoric.  Are we just more sensitive?  Has political correctness evolved (or devolved) into a disingenous sense of moral outrage?

Perhaps it is media attention itself that makes people go mad.  Maybe Jon & Kate’s marriage was on shaky ground to begin with (statistically speaking, parents of multiple births are more likely to divorce than one-at-a-timers), but the media microscope has focused the public’s scrutiny like the sun’s rays, frying their little ant brains. 

Look on any comments section of a newspaper story, where a chance to comment on a story usually degenerates into name calling, political backbiting, and ad hominem attacks on the writer and other posters.  Barely veiled racism and sociopathic rants are fair game within this anonymous realm.

There are a few glimmers of hope for our species. Beyonce inviting Taylor Swift up to the stage to finish her acceptance speech.   Ludacris quietly gives away 20 cars to people in need.  David Robinson, inducted in the same year as Jordan, gives a heartwarming speech that shows a man whose greatness at the game of basketball was only a glimpse of his true character. 

As long as these instances of kindness and generosity are the exception and not the norm, and as long as we prefer boorishness to lead the news, society will get worse instead of better.  This is not something we can legislate or donate towards, it is even harder because we have to do it ourselves.  After all this I don’t feel like I am preaching to the choir, only talking to a chair.

I always end my broadcast on MET News Report with “Stay Classy, Bangkok.”   At first it was a joke, an homage to The Anchorman’s Ron Burgundy.  But what started out as funny has become more of a plea.   I sincerely hope that something changes, before we irrecoverably take the civil out of civilization, and as Rudy might say, school is out forever.

***

I hate to end on such a downer, and with the sad news of Patrick Swayze succumbing to pancreatic cancer, let’s end with a tribute.  Here’s a nice eugoogely from The Guardian.  And when it comes to male striptease, the classiest gang around are the boys of Chippendale’s.   Here is possibly the greatest Saturday Night Live skit of all time starring Swayze and the late Chris Farley.

Stay classy, everyone.

Glam, Bam. Thank You Ma’am

 

A version of Cracker Jack's prizes finally make there way to China

Well, I guess I have been a bad boy.  Not that I have been out doing anything untoward (unless you count eating a whole can of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles in one sitting, but that’s the exciting life of a retired playboy), but i’ve been far too long without updating my blog.  Apologies, faithful readers…

So the headlines are dominated lately by the right-wing displeasure over Obama’s intended broadcast to students across America.  His blasphemous message?  “Stay and school and be good.”  HOW DARE HE!!!  Doesn’t he know that Presidents have no place in the classroom?  Well, except for the time Ronald Reagan and his Presidential Fitness Challenge  mocked my sedentary lifestyle.

The sad thing is that the Right Wing has forgotten how kids usually respond to such pandering, and if you can’t get them to clean up their rooms  (and stop having unprotected sex) then gently asking them (via talking box) to do their homework (or adopt a socialist ideology) is virtually pointless.  If you are going to attack him, do so because Obama is being a square and a total bummer.  Oh wait, you did?  Nevermind.

Our own Prime Minister is under fire from some elements of the press, for allowing a stateless Burmese boy, Mong Thongdee (no relation, probably, to Todd Thongdee), permission to travel and represent Thailand in an origami airplane competition in Japan.  At first he was given permission, then told he was not allowed to go, because it would set a “dangerous precedent” for kids born in Thailand to illegal immigrants.  How dare he!  So the Thai press, touched by his temerity, devoted column inches and face time to the poor boy, whose dream is to go to Japan with his paper airplane that stays afloat for 12 minutes.  And now, our Prime Minister has buckled to his sad moon eyes and allowed him special permission to go to Japan.  I guess that means when the opposition Puea Thai makes a motion in parliament, their wild card will be their newly appointed party leaders, the Htoo twins.

Htoo Talking to Me?

(On a side note, I’m surprised there is not as much of an uproar about this kid’s talent.  He can fold a paper airplane that can stay in the air for 12 FUCKING MINUTES???  Imagine lil’ Mong, tossing his plane in the air, putting on Desolation Road, handrolling and smoking a couple cigarette, and still having enough time to sit and watch his anti-gravity marvel settle down to earth.  Consider that the Guiness Book of World Records recognizes an engineer Japan for his plane, which stayed aloft a mere 27 seconds, and we either got a kid that is going to come back from Japan with a formula for cold fusion (using a toilet paper roll, a cork screw, and some tin foil), or we are all going to look like rubes.

***

On a mysteriously (and tenuously) related note, during one of my saturated-fat fuel binges a while back, I felt a craving for junk food for my brain, and came across this lurid story of a British bar hostess murdered in Japan.  I remembered this exact same incident reported in Time.  Now The Daily Mail is known for appealing to the baser elements of British society, with xenophobia often the special du jour.  (I like the football page for their noble stance that all rumors, no matter how unfounded, are fit to print).  If nothing else, an interesting example of the Rashomon effect; two versions of the same story, with the actual truth an unknown quantity.

Tomorrow, I will be off to help host the Prom for Charity at Fallabella, benefitting the Foundation for Mentally Handicapped Children at Pakkred.  I’m still looking for a powder blue tuxedo with ruffles, and if I find one I promise I will post photos.  Do you remember your prom?  Was it as magical an experience as mine?  I skipped the State Academic Team Competition to go to mine, where I got drunk on Boone’s Farm, while my date took off early because she had a soccer tournament the next day.  But this year, I’m going to be slow-dancing Booger-style for sure.  Bring on the Boyz-II-Men!!!

Hopefully it won’t end like this though…

Links 2 Make U Thinks: Let’s Play Two!

 

She prefers the links that make you drink.

The title for today’s entry comes from a saying attributed to Ernie “Mr. Cub” Banks who played for the Chicago Cubs (a.k.a. The Lovable Losers).  Back in my hometown Chicago, I used to love this team, in particular the 1984 incarnation that featured future Hall of Famer Ryne Sandberg, Shawon Dunston, Larry Bowa, Leon Durham, and my favorite player, catcher Jody Davis, who always seemed ready to hit a grand slam while the Old Style crowd chanted “JO-DEE!  JO-DEE!”

But as I grew older, my infatuation for the Cubs–and baseball in general–faded, as I came to an unescapable realization. 

By and large, baseball players are assholes.

Dude, we just won State!

Now JOAM is a friendly blog, but I speak from experience.  While I never got a wedgie from a baseball player of them in high school or college, I never found my self rooting for my alma mater’s team except on the most detached level.  To wit:

“The Gators are in the College World Series?  That’s cool.  I hope they win. Oh they lost in the finals?  Oh well.” 

As athletes, no other team sport prizes selfishness more.  Yes, you have to work together on defense, but when you are at bat, its all about your stats.  And I don’t know if it is chafing in their polyester uniforms, but they are the surliest bunch of tobacco-chewing boys you’ll ever meet around the keg on a Friday night.

Of course, here is where I insert a qualifier, “Some of my best friends used to play baseball” or “Field of Dreams is one of the best sports films of all time”  or “Singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame is an American treasure.”  All these are true, and of course there are exceptions, but it doesn’t change the fact that under certain conditions (evening, or perhaps daytime), even modest individuals are tempted to punch these macho athletes in the face (if they do not strike first, that is).

This week’s L2MUT Headline comes from ESPN, examining the repercussions of Moneyball.  Even though I’m no longer a fan, Moneyball is a fascinating look at thinking outside of collective wisdom to gain an edge.  A part of the Outside the Lines features, this column is a bit long, but print it out next time you do a number 2 at work and time will fly.  If you are a fan of Malcolm Gladwell books, then you will probably love Moneyball.  Also, Brad Pitt is reportedly signed on to star in a movie based on this book, so if you hurry up and read it now, you can better prepare yourself to give the snooty remark: “Yeah, but the book was so much better” .

(If you are still in the mood to read about sports after that, check out this profile of Roger Federer if you haven’t yet, written by the late, great David Foster Wallace about an athlete who (by all accounts) doesn’t possess an asshole bone in his body…unless you want to be pedantic and count his coccyx.)

***

Those aren't pillows!!! Oh wait...yes they are.

You know another country crazy about baseball?  No, not Thailand. Japan!  Frequent JOAM reader Mercury Mike sent us this link, a heart-warming, spine-tingling tale about 2-D Love.  About a boy who is deeply in love.  With a cartoon character.  On his pillowcase.

When I joined the couple for lunch at their favorite all-you-can-eat salad bar in the Tokyo suburb of Hachioji, he insisted on being called only by this new nickname, addressing his body-pillow girlfriend using the suffix “tan” to show how much he adored her. Nemutan is 10, maybe 12 years old and wears a little blue bikini and gold ribbons in her hair. Nisan knows she’s not real, but that hasn’t stopped him from loving her just the same. “Of course she’s my girlfriend,” he said, widening his eyes as if shocked by the question. “I have real feelings for her.”

Indeed.

To each his own, I say.  Just like it would be wrong of me to broadly characterize a whole subset of athletes as boorish (Did I?  That was soooo ten minutes ago…an eon in the Twitterverse!) it would unfair to assume all Japanese are any more kinky than other cultures based on this one profile.  But just be careful of where you sleep when staying at the home of a manga otaku friend.  You just might wake up with a two-timing duvet.

I’m off to Samui for work this weekend, supervising a fashion shoot for my magazine.  It is not nearly as fun as it sounds, trying to cajole two girls who barely know each other to kiss each other on the mouth without ruining the expensive borrowed costumes with stray saliva.  In the evening, I shall retire to my room, alone with my Sailor Moon body pillow, and scour the web for more gems for you, loyal reader.

Failing Economy? Conflict in the Middle East? Influenza A(H1N1)? No, more Erin Andrews Please!

Erin Andrews, All-American Hottie

For my non-gringo friends and readers who are wondering, “Who the heck is Erin Andrews?”  Let me do my best Carl Sagan and explain how this flaxen-haired media supernova came to be.

Billions and billions of nanoseconds ago, in the outer reaches of civilization (Gainesville, Florida), a young Dazzler dreamed of a life beyond the beer-soaked frat houses and rhythm nation.  She came of age during the golden age of Sportscenter, watching ESPN’s murderer’s row of Ley, Patrick, Olbermann, and Kilborn and thinking “Yeah, I could do that.”  And so she did, graduating from the University of Florida with a degree in telecommunications before embarking on the long and winding road to stardom.

Working her way from the backwaters to the bigtime, her buxom good looks got her in the door, but her knowledgable approach to sports made her the darling of every beer-drinking armchair quarterback in the ESPNiverse.

While Angelina Jolie, Jessica Alba, and Megan Fox may dominate the mythical and mental lists of beauty at the moment, among red-blooded American males aged 18 to 49, Erin Andrews is their microphone wielding Joan of Hawt, the girl that guys dream of watching March Madness with on the sofa, sharing a beer, naked.  Talking college football recruiting in the post-coital afterglow.  When the news finally broke, Google searches for Ms. Andrews’ nekkid video skyrocketed.  But, alas, would-be perverts thinking they hit the mother lode found, upon downloading an illicit copy of this hidden video found a gift that keeps on giving, in the form of a computer virus.  The irony is thick, like a drum-and-bass version of a certain Alanis Morrissette song, don’t cha think?

***

I may be omnipotent, but it still a bit chilly here.

From grainy naked blonde (Andrews) to brainy naked blue (Dr. Manhattan) here’s a tenuously related link to Watchmen, which is coming out on Blu-Ray soon.   Zack Snyder may not be Steven Spielberg yet, but its clear he loves his job and pours his heart into the filmmaking process, and tried to walk the fine line between catering to fanboys and appealing to the non-comic reading masses.

Speaking of comics, you don’t have to be a fan to enjoy this live vivisection of the work of comic book artist Rob Liefeld.   These guys painstakingly demolish the guy, who may be laughing all the way to the bank with the jillions he made appealing to the hype feedback loop supported by unknowing early 90’s teenagers.  What are these assholes doing now?  Probably blogging about how cool Watchmen is…when they aren’t trying the clean the digital chlamydia off their Vaio acquired during the hunt for Erin Andrews videos.