King for a lifetime, fool for a... lifetime...

This is an absolute fucking disaster. Prospects for peace? Shattered into a jillion pieces. Fuck Hamas. And fuck the ever-growing support in that region for evil, inflammatory, militant, uneducated, war-mongering leadership.

Add this one to the ever-growing list. Before I die, I must meet John Swartzwelder. It's something I've always been meaning to add to the list, but after watching The Simpsons' season six episode "Bart's Comet" again yesterday, it was cemented. I forgot just how damn brilliant that episode is. So yeah, John Swartzwelder, let's have lunch.

Here's a bunch of shit that I vomiting up here as a distraction.

Gotta love Luc Robitaille. Props to one of the most prolific scorers of all time for totally making my night last night at Staples Center, allowing me to be witness to his hat trick in the 8-6 win over Atlanta and becoming the Kings all-time leading goal scorer. The arena went fucking bonkers. It was great. Much better than the Kings dismal effort on Tuesday against Tampa.

I don't really care who wins the NFL playoffs or even the Superbowl, just as long as Denver loses badly. And no game is going to top that awesome Pittsburgh/Indy game. But just as long as the Broncos get smoked, I'll be fine. Personally, I'd like to see Pittsburgh vs Carolina in the Superbowl. I'm picking that. It'd be pretty sweet to see two teams that had to win three road games make it to the end.

Saw a couple movies recently. Matchpoint is good, but nothing approaching amazing. It certainly is entertaining and riddled with juicy moral ambiguity, but John Rhys Meyers is so damn unlikable all movie long. So that kind of negates any ambiguity. I'd give it a 7 out of 10.

Caught Underworld: Evolution because it was there. Not as good as the first, but also not retarded. It's entertaining, even with no actual characters and gaping plotholes. But thank the heavens that the first ten minutes of the movie incorporated a recap of the first film, because otherwise I'd have absolutely no fucking idea what was going on.

I stayed up a healthy portion of last night watching live coverage of the Australian Open down in Melbourne. I practically had to -- Maria Sharapova was playing! And man, did she look incredible... in the first set. Ahem... Yes, and in her blue slip to, I suppose. I mean, if that's why you watch Maria Sharapova... Or something. It appeared the blisters in her foot caught up to her in the second round, but she toughed it out and moved on to the third round. My God is she strong. That cross-court forehand? Holy crap, that's power. See, when you're unemployed, you can stay up 'til 2:30 in the morning watching and dreaming of Maria Sharapova. I'd say that's a "plus." Then you can sleep for ten hours and have bizarre, crazy-ass fever dreams withing dreams until you finally force yourself to wake up at lunch time. But then you've lost your morning. Also, Melbourne at 8 o'clock at night in the summer? Complete daylight. I want to visit. For a month. I promise I'll only spend 3/4 of the time blitzed.

Big heartfelt thanks to all of you who have lent support to me the last few days. You'll be encouraged to know that I already have a job interview lined up for tomorrow. Thanks again.

Somehow, the universe always seems to know when I'm "up." Without fail, for years now, I have never experienced a lucky streak without some kind of unfortunate occurance bringing it to an abrupt, screeching halt. Who needs that fucking job, anyway (aside from me)? My former employers can go to hell and die. Nearly four years of servitude and nothing in return. F 'em. But perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, as some have told me today, already. Maybe this is just the kick in the pants I need to finally move on from a place where I haven't been satisfied for over a year. It just sucks that this is happening. Probably throws my new-found trip into jeopardy, as well.

I've received 307 Evites this past week, all for parties and events either this weekend or next. I don't know that I want to go to any of them, now.

From April 18th - May 8th, I will be living in the homeland. Huzzah! It will have been almost nine years since my last visit -- nearly two years longer than my previous interstitial, when I swore in vain that my next visit would be sooner than seven years. I don't know what to do, right now, I'm so full of adrenaline. My ill, 94-year-old grandfather (the last of the grandparents*) couldn't be happier.

*What an excellent title for a novel.

And I'm out of work early today thanks to the upcoming MLK three-day weekend. Woot! Friday the 13th, I could kiss you!

More beefy goodness? Because I am so adept at picking college football winners, I am the recipient of a $50 gift certificate to Amazon.com. The buy-in? Free. This in addition to the $400+ dollars I just won off of playing the NFL. Good times. I think my Amazon moneys will go towards the second season of Arrested Development and perhaps the entire run of British The Office. It'll cost a little more than $50 together, but that's okay.

Oh man... what is this, this "smiling" sensation? It feels good.

Peoples, I have an article recommendation for you courtesy of my good friend and Phoenix Suns guru, Brent Selmins (Slemins!). To anyone battling the size of their wasteline while fending off constant attacks by McDonalds and Burger King, the following is an inspiring, personal glimpse into one man's on-going journey to eating right and feeling right. I think we've all in some capacity wrestled with weight and appearance. Hell, I know how gross I feel if I go four days without a workout at the gym and I'm not exactly Johnny Fatman. Anyway, I think we can all gleen a little insight from "The Battle of the Bulge."

*Note - The article begins to repeat about 70% of the way down the page. So, you know, don't worry about that last 30%

I found this niblet to be both endlessly entertaining and uncompromisingly sad at the same time. Cheers to you, Raphael, you crazy Canadian, you.

I realize I haven't posted in a few days. That is all.

It's debatable whether or not the "better team" won last night, as a bitter Matt Leinart will tell you. What is clear, however, is that Texas' 41-38 victory seemed to be less a product of UT's dominance and more a result of USC's defensive futility. Suffice it to say, I've already exhausted myself shredding USC's judgement and defensive incompetence last night. Let's run through the laundry list of how USC literally gave this game away:

- Pete Carroll just kicks a damn field goal to take a 10-0 lead in the first quarter instead of dicking around, trying to draw an offsides. It's an easy kick in the first quarter! Take the points!

- Reggie Bush's bonehead-retarded-I-can't-believe-the-best-player-in-college-football-attempted-that-stupid-lateral after picking up 30+ yards and putting SC in scoring position. By all rights, it could've been 17-0 at that point. This is also where the game turned in Texas' favor.

- Horrible management of time outs. They enter the 4th quarter with only one left and when do they use it? With 19 seconds left when Texas is going for a 2-point conversion (which they got easily, surprising no one by giving it to Vince Young up the middle).

- In spite of their defensive charade, the Trojan offense had them up 38-26 with six minutes left. Two scores, people. At that very moment, USC quit.

- All the credit in the world to Vince Young. He certainly deserves all the accolades he is receiving for last night. But remember how every single one of his completions was to a wide open receiver? 'Cause they were. I hate to take anything away from Young, but when Texas had the ball, it seemed like they were the only team on the field, whereas when USC had possession, they had to go out of their way to make big plays and were never permitted one - let alone TWO - waltzes into the end zone. I've never seen such horrible tackling from a championship-caliber team. What's pass coverage? USC doesn't know.

- The worst offense of all: Reggie Bush -- Heisman Trophy Winner, best player in the country -- wasn't even on the field when USC failed to convert the game-deciding 4th and 2 with two minutes to play. Everyone knew LenDale White was getting the ball. Texas packed all eleven men inside in anticipation. And to everyone's surprise, USC was predictable and essentially gave the Longhorns the ball game right there.

This game was over when: Texas got the ball back with 2 minutes left.

In spite of my criticisms, it was a really entertaining game to be sure. I still don't think it tops the USC/Notre Dame clash from earlier this season if only for one reason: both teams in the USC/ND game played their best.
I would hardly call USC's effort last night their "best."

Ever since crazy good times on New Year's Eve (the party I was at included scores of sexy drunks in a throwdown/shout-out of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing." Everybody knew the lyrics. How cool is that?), I have managed to contract Black Plague. On Sunday, I thought it was just a hangover (I had reason to think so given the gallons of alcohol I consumed the night before at break-neck speed). By Monday, I was immobile and dying. The only known cure at the time was a double-barrell shotgun to the face. Yesterday, everything was in slow-motion and my head still throbbing. Today, still have a nasty chest-cold, but the super virus is subsiding. I can tell because I woke up this morning drenched in sweat. And to think I didn't even need booze to break that nasty fever? Huh! Anyway, Plague be gone! Be gone, damn you!

So New Years was fucking great even if I ended the night walking five miles in the cold and occassionally bumping into jubilent New Years celebrators (one guy, Dale, was very happy to see me. I said "cheers" to him and he was crest-fallen when it was revealed that I'm not from London). Then the sickeness.

Best movie of the year: Munich. There is no doubt in my mind. Absolute brilliance at every turn. Spielberg reaffirms his status as a master of film. Easily his best work since Schindler. This movie is as much an homage to American cinema of the 70s as it is a social/political commentary on tense foreign relations then and now. Beautifully photographed. Eric Bana is nails. I could go on...

Rose Bowl today. I like USC over Texas 25-20. I don't expect a blowout like last year by any means, but all signs point to the Trojans winning another championship. They're playing a virtual home game (which means they slept in their own beds last night), are relaxed by the very nature of their coach (Texas is approaching the game much as Oklahoma did last year: with a stern gameface), and they've been on this stage before -- they welcome the hype. Let's not forget that the Longhorns haven't been tested since early September when they won at Ohio State or that Mack Brown-coached teams aren't known for their big-game performances.

This just in: Prayers to Sharon.