Oh no no nooooo you don't -- I WANNA HEAR SOME EURYTHMICS GOSSIP AND I WANNA HEAR IT RIGHT NOW!
N.O.B.
- Thread starter mashburned
- Start date
Well, it pains me to admit this, even though it prolly comes as no surprise -- I simply don't know jack **** about football, other than Kenny Stabler was my favorite player ever and Earl Campbell was an OG badass. I mean I don't even know the basics, and I couldn't bluff my way around if I tried. I can't tell you the difference in a 4-3 defense, a 3-4 defense, which is better/worse, what works best against the run, against the pass, whether the order of offensive linemen goes "guard-tackle-end" or "end-guard-tackle," or why teams don't run the wishbone anymore. I don't know if Adrian Peterson is still playing (or just *****-slapping his kids around), I don't know most of which teams are in which conference, whether the conferences have 2, 3, 4, or 5 divisions, etc...hell, I don't even know how many f#cking timeouts a team gets. Honestly, it wouldn't take much to convince me that Pete Rozelle is still commissioner. And that's just about real football. When you start talking about the basics of FF strategy I'm an even bigger dumbass -- the Forrest Gump of FF, if you will.
Basically, I suck -- which is why I'm not gonna waste my, and y'all's, time stewing over draft picks. I'm gonna auto-draft, try not to do anything dumb (like leave players on the roster during a "-BYE-" week -- an Ulcers tradition and one of my specialties), and then laugh my *** off and talk **** every time I happen to luck up and win a game.
You were supposed to say…
“IM BUSY PLAYING REAL SPORTS I DONT HAVE TIME FOR FANTASY NERD SPORTS. HELL I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS”
I'm just sandbagging. I'm basically the unholy love child of Belichick and Saban -- IF they were homo lovers who decided to use their fuse their own sperm which they then inserted into a donor egg which was then implanted into a surrogate mother (I'm thinking Georgia Frontierre) with the resulting spawn being a super virile XYY chromosome-laced football genius"
I've said it before, and I'll say it again...Before Kath offed himself and Peter Cetera over-dosed on estrogen, hacked his dick off, and transitioned into a broad, Chicago was a good band.
Btw, the tamborine player in any band cracks me the hell up. What a f#cking waste.
Haha, he cracks me up too (he's a great on the trombone though). The general rule is if its an instrument that I can play, then I ain't impressed.
Based on extensive Google searches and a conversation with an legitimate umpire who does it for pay. After you make legal contact you can touch the plate. Doesnt matter if the the defense has touched it or not. You just can't don't while swinging.
The best song Chicago ever produced was written about a clock...and that clock was most definitely set to EST.
Porter Waggoner has had some work done.What a pimp.
Ellen Degeneres gonna try for a music career after her show?What a pimp.
Big difference between being off by a measly 19 minutes and being late by a whole hour.
Huh. I just thought Lamm was nearsighted and couldn't read whether the clock said 3:35 or 3:34 a.m. -- either way, if he'd been living in God's own central time he'd have had an extry hour of sleep.
I always thought the song was simply about not being able to get to sleep.
The clock reads 3:35am (EST obviously)...you toss and turn...and then it seems like just a couple of seconds later you look up and the clock reads 3:54am (EST obviously).
Why can’t he get to sleep? Maybe he’s higher than a cat’s back and can’t come down. Or maybe he is trying to come up with the lyrics to a song and the clock is winding down on the dead line. Most likely scenario is a combination of the two. Lamm was searching for inspiration for lyrics and used drugs to get there...probably searched a little too hard and took too much drugs and couldn’t find either...no lyrics and no sleep. But the beauty of it all is that the experience itself created the lyrics. Life is funny like that.
But who knows for sure? I’m usually wrong about the meaning of lyrics and am constantly infusing my own lyrics to songs because the song writer obviously got it wrong (my kids hate this). But speculation on the meaning of lyrics is half the fun of listening to music in the first place...unless you are listening to one of Chicago’s later, sappy 80’s tunes...in which case the fun has been completely zapped.
Unless it’s 1982 and you happen to be in MS and happen to be at a spin the bottle party...and the chicks are playing sappy 80’s songs...and Hard to Say I’m Sorry comes on at the exact moment the bottle lands on Sally Jane...and that just happens to be her all time favorite song (this week). In which case...all is right with the world and you are frantically strategizing a way to talk everyone into expanding the game into playing 7 minutes in heaven.
But I digress...
Only two things are certain:
1) Out of 237 Chicago albums that produced trillions of songs...this one tops them all
2) Lamm wrote a song about EST. That’s EST...just as God intended. As it was in 1969...as it was in 1982...as it shall forever be.
The clock reads 3:35am (EST obviously)...you toss and turn...and then it seems like just a couple of seconds later you look up and the clock reads 3:54am (EST obviously).
Why can’t he get to sleep? Maybe he’s higher than a cat’s back and can’t come down. Or maybe he is trying to come up with the lyrics to a song and the clock is winding down on the dead line. Most likely scenario is a combination of the two. Lamm was searching for inspiration for lyrics and used drugs to get there...probably searched a little too hard and took too much drugs and couldn’t find either...no lyrics and no sleep. But the beauty of it all is that the experience itself created the lyrics. Life is funny like that.
But who knows for sure? I’m usually wrong about the meaning of lyrics and am constantly infusing my own lyrics to songs because the song writer obviously got it wrong (my kids hate this). But speculation on the meaning of lyrics is half the fun of listening to music in the first place...unless you are listening to one of Chicago’s later, sappy 80’s tunes...in which case the fun has been completely zapped.
Unless it’s 1982 and you happen to be in MS and happen to be at a spin the bottle party...and the chicks are playing sappy 80’s songs...and Hard to Say I’m Sorry comes on at the exact moment the bottle lands on Sally Jane...and that just happens to be her all time favorite song (this week). In which case...all is right with the world and you are frantically strategizing a way to talk everyone into expanding the game into playing 7 minutes in heaven.
But I digress...
Only two things are certain:
1) Out of 237 Chicago albums that produced trillions of songs...this one tops them all
2) Lamm wrote a song about EST. That’s EST...just as God intended. As it was in 1969...as it was in 1982...as it shall forever be.
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On this we can most definitely agree -- and that sappiness/zappiness can be traced directly to Et-Cetera surgically removing his testicles to reach a Minnie Ripperton-esque higher octave, the culmination of which was, of course, the abominable Glory Of Love.
In recognition of this wonderful page of the NOB, I have changed my Fantastical Foosball team name and photo.
Chicago runs on central time. Although I’m not sure where Lamm was when he wrote that tune. Probably out west, so he would have had even more time. Must’ve been on a real bender that day.
Years ago I went to some sort of job organizational training and the speaker (black guy)claimed that he had been friends with all the original dudes in Chicago. I remember him saying that he was offered a place in the band (can’t remember what instrument he played). It really parallels the Clarence Walker story.
If he was offered a spot in Chicago he could have played any number of about 234 instruments...43 of which were on full display in the vid mav provided above.
~~~ also ~~~
Your story reminds of the story about John(ny) (Cougar) Melancamp’s first drummer. They were struggling to make it and he quit to get a real job to put food on the table. Pretty soon thereafter (like 2 or 3 months I think) they signed their first record contract...with a new drummer at the helm.
Timing is everything...just so long as it’s ES timing.
Every year I start off thinking "this could be my year to be included the elite club known as NOB fantastical foosball." Once again my number was not drawn but someday I await the privilege of being included with you distinguished yet sophisticated gentlemen.
If only I had shared this photo with my kids 10 years ago I could have easily avoided fortyelevendozen trips to Disney World...
Those mice looked stoked out on growth hormone and meth.
ATC says you didn’t pass the background check. I wrote down what the report said so that I wouldn’t forget: “an upright citizen in good standing with the community who has never been to jail”. That just doesn’t fit this league’s profile.
Does it matter that in college that i lived with a drug dealer who sold to an undercover cop and Lexington's finest raided our apartment while I was detained in handcuff on my couch..........they did find my missing acne medicine during the ransacking and so politely set on my nightstand for me to find. Bless them.
On our way to Buc-ees’.
I was outvoted.
I was outvoted.
If you could only watch Kentucky football or basketball the rest of your life….whatcha got?
At their historical levels of achievement? Basketball. Both Playing at the highest possible level? Football by a smidge.