Thank God For Seattle Sports Fans

Readers, an interesting thought occurred to me over the Memorial Day Weekend. I was in Seattle on assignment to review a show at 5th Avenue Theater, and during my off-time I thought it be nice to do some shopping. Walking past the city's famous 2-story Niketown, I was horrified by the overwhelming amount of decoration outside the building commemorating the return of Ken Griffey Jr. to the Seattle Mariners. I mean, it was disgusting. Everything in the store had been replaced with something bearing likeness to Griffey's face. My point is, they were really, really excited.

Now this got me thinking, why? What's the big deal Mariners? In the current professional sports era, high profile players switch cities as often as The Real World. And then it hit me: Seattle sports fans are friggin' desperate.



Seattle Mariners- Consistently dissappoint. In 2008, the Mariners were the first team in Major League history to lose over 100 games with a $100 million dollar payroll. This year isn't looking much better. In their 32 years of existence, they have NEVER made it past the ALCS.

Seattle Seahawks- Consistently dissapoint. Fans rejoice in 2006 when the Gulls make their first Superbowl in franchise history, only to get played by Pittsburgh like some kind of schoolyard bitch. Things were so dismal after last season's 4-12 finish, Mike Holmgren jumped ship.

Seattle Supersonics- No longer exist. Franchise up and left for Oklahoma City after a 20-62 showing in 2008. No one seemed to notice.

What a sad, sad place to be. The town's only professional sports championship (unless you count the WNBA) was nabbed by the Sonics in 1979. That's thirty years of failure, US Men's Olympic Soccer can barely lay claim to that.

And the worst part about it? Things aren't looking like they're getting any better. In fact, morale is still dropping, and I don't think the rain has anything to do with it. The Mariners are 3rd in the AL West and Griffey is batting .218. My advice? Make friends with your kindered spirit Cleveland before LeBron finally brings them a trophy, ya sorry bastards.

Alright Free Pizza:
Considering that the Emerald City may be recieving a new basketball franchise sometime soon, what would your plans be for them? Give me names, colors, mascots, uniforms, anything you've got.

Marveling in the endurance of the human spirit,
Open Bar

Re: Thank God For Fat Italians

(Open Bar, while I am aware of your Italian heritage and the degree of your fatness, I want you to prove to TGFEB readers that you are indeed a Fat Italian. Tell us of your ultimate dream Italian meal.)














Sandwich!
Open Bar

Thank God For Fat Italians

There should be no question among TGFEB readers (lucky enough to have been graced with my presence) that I am a fat Italian. I have a Culinary Arts degree from Wassamatta U and my name is Free Pizza, for chrissakes.

That said, I am not here to write a self-congratulatory post. I don't feel worthy of this post because I can never hope to achieve the status of the fat Italians I mention today (and I'll let you in on a little secret: I'm only 1/4 Sicilian and I don't even like sausage all that much. I know!).

Before we begin, let's see at what our friend Webster has to say on the two necessary elements involved in being a fat Italian.

Italian (n):
1. a native or inhabitant of Italy, or a person of Italian descent.
2. awesome, has life's priorities straightened out.
3. likes a spicy meat-a-ball.

Fat (adj):
1. having too much flabby tissue; corpulent; obese.
2. awesome, has life's priorities straightened out.
3. likes a spicy meat-a-ball.

Let us take a look at important fat Italians in our culture.

Marlon Brando:


As this crude Google image search result shows us, as Brando got fatter, he got hotter. He left the critics of fat Italians on this mortal plane with a final "fongool" because he lived to be 80 freakin' years old.

Iron Chef Mario Batali:


Although the orange Crocs may be questionable, a sausage scarf offers absolute legitimacy in the world of Fat Italianism.

Chef Boyardee:


Let's be honest here, Boyardee could beat Iron Chef Mario Batali's ponytail off in Kitchen Stadium.

Mario:


Not only did Mario elevate the fat Italian to a heroic status, but he also nailed princesses, rode a pet dinosaur, did shrooms, and brought dignity back into the plumbing profession.

And finally, the inspiration for this post, the late Dom DeLuise:


In a way, Dom left with a "fongool," leaving this mortal coil at the age of 75. But he wouldn't have actually said it, because he was too damn pleasant.

Before I start to cry, I relate this question to my cohort, Open Bar...

Open Bar, while I am aware of your Italian heritage and the degree of your fatness, I want you to prove to TGFEB readers that you are indeed a Fat Italian. Tell us of your ultimate dream Italian meal.

When in Rome, eat more gelato,
Free Pizza

Re: Thank God For G.O.A.T.

(Let us imagine that you are the incredibly lucky recipient of one free afternoon with The God of All Texas. What's your itinerary?)

Dear Open Bar and faithful TGFEB readers,

I sincerely apologize for my two week absence. I know it's as hard to believe as my law degree, but the reason for my absence is due to The God of All Texas himself. That's right. Thankfully, I took my moleskine along with me to (drunkenly) jot down the week's itinerary as it progressed.

Monday, May 11
12:01 AM: I, Free Pizza, sit down to write an inspired TGFEB post.
12:02 AM: G.O.A.T. knocks on my front door with the front of his Harley. Uses colorful language to encourage me out of my home.
12:03 AM to 4:35 AM: Stop at WinCo, buy American flag bandanas, dishwashing detergent, and Hawaiian shirts.
5:13 AM: While embarking on our road trip, G.O.A.T. asks me to hide two kilograms of cocaine in separate bags inside my brassiere, in order to "Make those funbags a little more fun, am I right?"

Monday morning - Sunday afternoon: Mexico.

Sunday, May 17
7:00 PM: G.O.A.T. and I return to the States to watch Jon & Kate Plus 8.

8:00 PM Sunday - 12:42 Monday, May 19: Unconscious.

And that brings us to the present. Of course, I owe our readers another sincere apology, but I insist that my week with The God of All Texas left me with no regrets.

Tequila and Russian Roulette,
Free Pizza

Thank God For G.O.A.T.

Alright readers, remember this acronym:

G.O.A.T.

-The God of All Texas-

G.O.A.T. is a marvel. G.O.A.T. is a revolutionary. G.O.A.T. is love.

G.O.A.T. is an Austin based southern rock spectacular with some fresh and fantastic ideas for the future of music. He has been spotted getting kicked out of open mic nights around the Boise area in past months. After having heard about several G.O.A.T. sightings around town, usually being described as a "Tall guy with real nasty hair. He played bass and sang a seven minute song about anal sex. They kicked him out." I had to do some research.

Well, I found a picture:



I know, right?

Here's his myspace link: http://www.myspace.com/thegodofalltexas

Please, scope out the music. Subject matter ranges from large nipples, to intercourse with a friend's mother, to the aptly titled "Booger Stew". Believe me, G.O.A.T. is good for the soul.

Now that you've heard the majesty that is G.O.A.T., I know the question you're all dying to ask me.

Open Bar, your exploration into new and exciting musical acts is far ahead of its time. When you share your bounty with your leagues of TGFEB readers, you're sharing the food of love. Why you don't own a major record label is beyond me. I love you.

While that isn't a question, I really am flattered. Thank you. I do appreciate your devotion.

What's that? Oh, you do have a real question now? Alright, shoot.

How many times have you seen this titan of musical innovation live?

Oh, I haven't.


So there it is. If and when the international music community is in a frenzy over The God of All Texas, you can proudly state, "I loved G.O.A.T. before he was big. I read about him on this really cutting edge entertainment blog that I should show you." Just like the big music snob you know you are.

On the other hand, if the whole international frenzy thing doesn't pan out, and G.O.A.T. dies penniless and alone like Van Gogh, at least we all know that thanks to him, Jerry Falwell is somewhere out there turning in his grave.


So, Free Pizza:
Let us imagine that you are the incredibly lucky recipient of one free afternoon with The God of All Texas. What's your itinerary?


Feeding the masses,
Open Bar

Re: Thank God For Hot Old Ladies

(We're experienced in the art of "Marry One, Fornicate With One (what, should I have used the actual word when so many academic blogging circles are watching? I'd be crucified.), Kill One." It's time to pick from...let's say Cloris Leachman, Lee Meriweather, and Rue McClanahan. Shoot.)

Ohhhhh...you kidding? Really? Free Pizza, what the hell are you trying to do to me?

As easy and honest as it would be to say I'd roger 'em all roundly, I guess that ruins the game.

Here goes nothing:


First of all, I can't lose two Golden Girls in one week, so Rue stays alive, and I'm friggin' marrying her.

Cloris, you're eighty-two years old, and I still have to smoke a cigarette after every time I see you on TV. Please, please, please do me.

And Lee...oh Lee, look, I'm sorry. It's not that you don't give me a hard-on like Franco Columbu's forearm, it's more that I want to bang Blanche and Frau a smidgen more. I'm sorry.


Wondering why Free Pizza tortures me so,
Open Bar



Oh, and Bea...thank you for being a friend.

Thank God For Hot Old Ladies

Being the double X chromosomed member of the Free Pizza and Open Bar enterprise, one may think I am not as qualified as Open Bar to discuss this week's topic. However, I believe that all Internet journalists must occasionally broaden horizons. Also, can't a girl have some ladycrushes?

Before I begin, here are some topics I considered for this week:
-Thank God For Botox
-Thank God For Hair Dye/Hair Weaves
-Thank God For Push-Up Bras
-Thank God For Fabulous Shawls

These are all mere stray raindrops falling under the umbrella of Hot Old Ladies. Generally I'm all for allowing oneself to grow old, gracefully letting your youth and beauty slip away...

No-ho-ho...not these bitches.

Cloris Leachman

Hot.

Helen Mirren

Hot.

Lee Meriweather

Hot.

Rue McClanahan

Hot.

Joan Collins

...will throw a cocktail in your face if you even question her hotness.

However, the real reason for this post was to showcase the late and lovely Bea Arthur...

...who will continue to be just as hot and fabulous in the afterlife. We'll miss you, Bea.

You see, not only are hot old ladies here to remind us aging is a beautiful process, but to remind us that after 50, us mortals can never look as hot as these broads.

Listen up, Open Bar!
We're experienced in the art of "Marry One, Fornicate With One (what, should I have used the actual word when so many academic blogging circles are watching? I'd be crucified.), Kill One." It's time to pick from...let's say Cloris Leachman, Lee Meriweather, and Rue McClanahan. Shoot.

Cocktails and sunhats,
Free Pizza

Ps. Let the record show that Susan Lucci...

...does not count as a hot old lady. She's just as desperate to look perpetually 25 years old as she was for that Emmy.

Re: Thank God For Keyboard Cat

(What exactly has Keyboard Cat done for you and your life?)

Not only has Keyboard Cat taught me how to love and dance a waltz, but he also fixed my gutters.

I do indeed owe Keyboard Cat my life.

Ciao,
Free Pizza

Thank God For Keyboard Cat

TGFEB readers, today is a day to remember. A day to celebrate. A day to record in the annuls of American Entertainment Blog history. Today is the day that I share with you, Keyboard Cat.

Now, if you're a mild to moderate viral video dweeb like myself, there's a pretty good chance you're familiar with the video "Cool Cat". What's that? No? Well then allow me to help:


And unless you are a recently thawed neanderthal, I'm more than certain you are familiar with the concept of a "FAIL". What's that? No? Oh, no wi-fi in your fortified FLDS compound? Alright then, maybe this will help:



Still not clear?



Alrighty, now that we have that out of the way, we can get down to business. Keyboard Cat. Keyboard Cat combines the concepts of a "FAIL" and the original "Cool Cat". Example:


I know, right?

Again:


Ha!

Alright, alright, one more:


And the best part about it? Keyboard Cat makes everything better! The absolute most tragic of videos can be redeemed by the musical accompaniment of a cat playing the keyboard.

Case in point:


So there you go folks, now you know that, like whichever omnipotent being you fear, you will always have Keyboard Cat, the end all, cure all of viral videos, to fall back on.

So, Ms. Free Pizza:
What exactly has Keyboard Cat done for you and your life?


Until next time,
Open Bar






Ok, one more:

Re: Thank God For...Zac Efron

(If you could melt down Zac Efron to the point of a waxy puddle and reshape him, what kind of candle would you make?)


The candle would most certainly be in the shape of a gimmick, and be scented with the stale, stinky stank of deceit and counterfeit.


Just waiting for Free Pizza to actually watch High School Musical,
Open Bar

Thank God For...Zac Efron

THFEB readers, I would like to openly apologize for the absence of my post last week. You see, I was wrestling with my chosen topic of the week, unsure of its justifiability. But after I saw the trailer for the refried cliché mess that is 17 Again …

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CW9TkWY6Cng

…I think I like Zac Efron, okay? Not in a schoolgirl crush kind of way, but similar to my love for Justin Timberlake, I just want to be his mother and feed him casserole. But I feel so wrong making this assessment because I’ve only seen him in the remake of Hairspray.

Because he was DELIGHTFUL!


Despite being so damn endearing, our good friend Zac Efron seems to face a lot of oppostition from people in other social spheres (you know, the social spheres that don't include 12 year old girls). They say he's just another face in the wave of teenyboppers. they say he's only popular because he's cute, and they say he looks like he's made of wax.

But you know who was a face in a wave of teenyboppers, seemed to only be popular because he was cute, and looked like he was made made of wax? Davy Freakin' Jones.



I will stand back and let that implication stand in, because you know I'm right.

You can expect me to stand by these statements I made here today...until I watch the first 20 minutes of High School Musical. After that, you can expect me to live off the grid in stubborn, stubborn shame.

Now, Mr. Open Bar...

If you could melt down Zac Efron to the point of a waxy puddle and reshape him, what kind of candle would you make?

Mop tops and love beads,
Free Pizza

Re: Thank God For The Notebook

(We all know my introspection can be shoddy, and you know me better than anyone. Why do you think I watched The Notebook?)

Open Bar, it may surprise you, but I believe all of your hypotheses are false. You probably watched it because you needed a good cry.

Your comrade in mixing salty tears with Ben & Jerry's,
Free Pizza

Thank God For The Notebook

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Re: Thank God For Guy Fieri

(Beefaghetti has a slew of adjectives he grunts as he's eating something he thoroughly enjoys, like "money," "off the hook," and "bananas." If you could suggest a new Beefaghetti brand word or phrase to utter when scarfing down something tasty, what would it be?)



"Oh, oh man...I wanna put that on my butt."

Thank God For Guy Fieri

(Author's note: For the duration of this post, I will be referring to Guy Fieri as Beefaghetti, as I find it more fitting.)

Ladies and gentlemen, thank God for the Food Network's Beefaghetti. You know, the snarky, sweaty bastion of grease with hair as bright as the midday sun. You can hate his catchphrases, you can hate his forearm sweatband, you can hate the mayonnaise clinging to his goatee as he devours a deep fried hamburger, but you know what?

You just might be jealous, reader. You might be jealous because you know you want his job.

While I consider Open Bar's and my job the most rewarding for the mind and soul, Beefaghetti's job is, without a doubt, the most rewarding for the stomach. Sunburned stomachs covered with bowling shirts. But really, wouldn't you rather quit your bourgeois office job and hit the road, stopping at every diner, drive-in, and dive, and impose on a restaurant's protocol?

I'm sure your eyes burn with jealousy as you watch him scarf down fish tacos in middle of nowhere Arizona, telling yourself you are much more qualified for the job, which you probably are. The fact of the matter is, people like you don't get TV shows. People who write biographies like this:

I'm really kind of shy...NAW!!
One of the things I dig is people. Hangin' with 'em, coolin' with 'em, sharin' stories...you name it. The best part of my life has been meeting people...not only the famous people, but regular folks who are living life 'on point' and 'off the hook.' Take a snoop around and you'll see and hear the inside 'dish' on yours truly, the people in my Krew, some of the people I meet, and even get a chance to change my look. As you can see, most of it's not serious. If you want serious go to boring.com.

....are the ones who get TV shows.

If anything, Beefaghetti is a humbling force of the universe. He's come from a distant star to remind us all that it's never appropriate to dress like a member of Smash Mouth at 41 (or any age, for that matter). Beefaghetti is necessary, and his presence on this earth is, dare I say...

...money.

And now, to my associate, Open Bar:

Beefaghetti has a slew of adjectives he grunts as he's eating something he thoroughly enjoys, like "money," "off the hook," and "bananas." If you could suggest a new Beefaghetti brand word or phrase to utter when scarfing down something tasty, what would it be?

Always a pleasure,

Free Pizza

Re: Thank God For Duets

(Who would you most like to be accompanied by in a duet (provided that the recording session would be followed by the customary cocktails and love-making) and what would be the song title?)

Mr. Open Bar, you know full well that it has been my lifelong dream to perform a rendition of Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler."

Now comes the hard part: my accompaniment. After some deliberation, I realized I could do no wrong with the New York Gay Men's Choir.

From Russia with love,
Free Pizza

Thank God For Duets

The duet is a peculiar beast. So delicate, so unpredictable. So much risk, so much reward. So much potential for masterpiece, and for ridicule.

The fact of the matter is, you never really know.

Though Elton John's 1976 pop duet with Kiki Dee, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" remains to be gold karaoke standard thirty years later, the much anticipated pairing of John, The Killers and The Pet Shop Boys' Neil Tennant for 2008's holiday menage a talent, "Joseph, Better You Than Me" was, in most opinions, a letdown. In the same vein, Frank Sinatra's album Duets housed both a breathy, annoying and unsettling rouse of "I've Got You Under My Skin" with hit-making machine Bono and a surprisingly moving cut of "All The Way/One For My Baby (And One More For The Road)" with Jacuzzi Jazz dumbass, Kenny G.

We could play this game all day.

Androgynous space alien, David Bowie contributed to both "Under Pressure" and "Dancing In The Street".

Pop virtuoso, Justin Timberlake was a part of the sultry sexjam "Dick In A Box" and the downright retarded "4 Minutes".

When all is said and done, we've got some real gems, and some real turds, but maybe that's just how it works. Maybe genius + genius doesn't always equal supergenius. Maybe, sometimes 1 + 1 = 0.

While this may be true, I wouldn't necessarily say that we are at a complete loss. I would like to think that, through the trials and errors of the musical duet, we've learned at least one very, very important rule of nature.

1. Everything that Paul McCartney touches turns to shit.



So it is now that I pose this question to my cohort, Ms. Free Pizza:

Who would you most like to be accompanied by in a duet (provided that the recording session would be followed by the customary cocktails and love-making) and what would be the song title?


Until next time,
Open Bar

Re: Thank God for Fat Girl Songs

(If you could have a fat girl song written about you, who would perform it, and what would it be called?)

Though I'm not sure I could readily decide between Meat Loaf and Schoolly D as an artist, the track would most certainly be titled "Great Personality".

Good question, compatriot.

With love,
Open Bar

Thank God for Fat Girl Songs

It is agreed upon by professionals that music falls under the umbrella of entertainment. I know this because I am a professional and a Juilliard graduate. A special genre of music I have observed and come to appreciate is the delicate art of the fat girl song.

While it may be a time-honored tradition in popular song to objectify women, I've noticed a great disparity in the body types of women being objectified. It's time to be fair and give the hot and heavy ladies of the world their fair share. There have been a handful of chubby-chasing iconoclasts in the music industry that give the fat girls their due. In my painstaking research, I have assembled an adequate, informative list for you, the dedicated Thank God For Entertainment Blog reader.

Fat Girl Songs Sung By Gay Men
It is a historical fact that most fat girl songs are sung by gay men.
1. Fat Bottomed Girls -Queen
2. Big Girl (You Are Beautiful) -Mika
3. Polonaise No. 6 in A flat major, Op. 53, Heronique - Frédéric Chopin

Honorable Mentions
These songs are often mistaken as being fat girl songs, when really, they just emphasize a sizable posterior. The difference is not in the round thing in your face, but rather in the itty bitty waist.
1. Brick House -the Commodores
2. Baby Got Back -Sir Mix-a-Lot
3. Big Ole Butt -LL Cool J

Song That Doesn't Count
Because it sucks.
1. Whole Lotta Rosie -AC/DC

The Best Fat Girl Song
By virtue of its quality and by default, despite the band being fictitious.
1. Big Bottom -Spinal Tap

And with that, I pose a question to my associate, Open Bar:

If you could have a fat girl song written about you, who would perform it, and what would it be called?

Best regards,
Free Pizza

Thank God For Us

Let us be clear, readers.

This is an entertainment blog.

The staff here at Thank God For Entertainment Blogs prides itself on being lovers of the lovely, appreciators of the awesome, and connoisseurs of the kickass. We understand you, as the readers, need to be informed. For this reason, we've taken it upon ourselves, Free Pizza and Open Bar, to serve you your weekly prescription of quality entertainment commentary by two marginally qualified pop culture professionals.

You can thank us later.

Sincerely,
Free Pizza and Open Bar