Monday, bloody Monday

Monday, bloody Monday

John Dubyaover 14 years


Article written by:John DubyaJohn Dubya
annoyed.jpg Monday, January 24th was, according to British researchers, the most depressing day of the year. I have no recollection of how I felt that day, but I can’t imagine I was any more despondent than I am today. "Why so blue" you’re probably not asking yourself but for the sake of this post you should be? Well… --The sting of the Florida loss on Saturday has yet to subside two days later. While some find solace in the fact that Kentucky hung in there against juggernaut Florida while firing more blanks than Lance Armstrong at a bukkake convention, I still see that big L. Perhaps I’m being a tad half-empty (see Armstrong above), but such a wasted opportunity to gather the necessary momentum going into the teeth of the schedule, against a team practically begging for the upset, is difficult to swallow (see Armstrong above). And Vegas…f-you Vegas and your 3 point spread. Tuesday’s showdown in Knoxville is, like last season, a must-win. Fresh off their rout of Vandy on Saturday, the re-Lofted Vols are back on the upswing, vendetta in tow. Kentucky simply has to accrue some quality dubyas this month, and with LSU and Alabama decreasing in value each week, this is that game. --Harold “Baby Jordan” Minor is missing. did an obligatory “where are they now” piece on some of our favorites and most obscure from college basketball past. According to the feature, attepmts by the LA Times to track Minor down in 2004 were unsuccessful, and his alma mater USC can’t find him either. All anyone knows is he was believed to be living in Vegas. He’s so dead and/or in jail and/or dealing Carribbean Stud at the Luxor. It’s an entertaining read though, especially for you Trajan Langdon, Luke Recker, and God Shamgodd loyalists. --On MSNBC this weekend, the frog-throated (see Armstrong above) Rita Cosby did a live report from the room where Anna Nicole Smith had undergone an Autopsy just hours before. Umm, gross. This round the clock coverage of a train-wrecked pornstar hopped up on Trimspa/Valium/Patrone cocktails is an indictment of American culture in its own right, but live reports with a still bloodied and plastic covered scalpel in the background makes me want to move far away from this circus of Infotainment we call media. Maybe I’ll go to the Bahamas. --The Dixie Chicks won a lot of Grammy’s. Not that I give two turds about an award so entrenched in prestige that it sits on the hearth of the Baha Men, but come on. This isn’t even a political thing, it’s an audible one. I was through with the Grammy’s when “Thong Song” lost Best Male R&B Vocal in 2001; this is just a reaffirmation. Oh, and Tony Romo flavor of the month Carrie Underwood snagged Best New Artist. I just hope she at least got a few pictures with her trophy before CBS execs swooped in and pried it from her weak puppet fingers. --Finally, I know these things aren’t new, but I love the re-cut movie trailers on YouTube. You know, where they take clips from a movie and completely alter its mood and plot. I really wish I knew how to do this, but alas, I still struggle to write my name in Microsoft Paint. Anyway, here’s a preview of "Office Space" the drama which successfully took one of the funniest movies ever made and left me feeling downtrodden and ultimately intensified my case of the Mondays. Oh well, Duke’s lost 4 in a row, so maybe there’s hope. Waiting for Tuesday like Al Gore is for a warm front...

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