The wit and wisdom of one of my icons and American treasure, Nick Offerman. “Beef jerky … is really just a meat raisin.” Pure brilliance. The fact this isn’t at least an hour long is one of my life’s greatest disappointments.

Blog Author: 
Jerry Thornton

UniladHere we have a pretty strong contender for the most inappropriate birthday gift for an 8-year-old ever.

Video has emerged of a ‘hood stripper’ reportedly dancing for a kid at his 8th birthday party, after his mum allegedly hired her to perform.

The stripper is seen twerking for the young lad in her underwear, as he throws what appear to be dollar bills at her and grabs her ass. …

Not much is known about the origins of the clip, but apparently the video was shot in Tampa.

I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that when it comes to appreciating degenerate behavior, I’m not exactly Tim Tebow. I feel like I can handle pretty much anything this side of “2 Girls 1 Cup.” But even I can’t bring myself to post the actual video of this 8-year-old getting creeped up on by a stripper. Instead I opted for the Amy Poehler “Cool Mom” scene from “Mean Girls,” just so I can look in the mirror when I shave tomorrow. If you want to see it for yourself, you can click the link I included. But be warned: That way lies madness.

Anyway, it’s nice to see that the fall of civilization is way ahead of schedule. And to the surprise of no one who’s been paying attention, Florida is the engine that’s pulling our train full speed over the cliff. I’m pretty sure that when I turned eight, I got a street hockey goalie stick and an old school mask that I painted with scars every time I got hit with the ball like Gerry Cheevers. To this day, those are my Red Ryder BB gun and Rosebud. My mom even made me a cake that looked like Snoopy. It was her masterpiece and I cherish the memory of all them. But those happy feelings will never compete with my boy in Tampa, getting twerked on by a stripper a good five years before puberty kicks in.

Until now, I thought I had a happy and privileged childhood. I had no idea I was really being deprived. I wish my mom was as good a parent as this Florida Mother of the Year.

Blog Author: 
Jerry Thornton

 

Jim Nantz in Golf Digest[T]here’s a little Jack Nicholson in “Five Easy Pieces” in me. I’m a breakfast guy: three eggs scrambled, with bacon and wheat toast, burnt. The problem is, it never came back burnt. For years it would arrive limp and tan, which brought breakfast to a standstill when I sent the toast back. It was costing me 10 minutes a day, which, multiplied by six days a week, is four hours a month. That’s 48 hours—two full days—per year. My friends, time is currency. My wife, Courtney, got tired of hearing me complain about it. She found a photograph on the Internet of a kitchen toaster ejecting two slices of burnt toast. She minimized it, printed it out and had it laminated. She insisted I put it in my wallet. When I order, I present the photo to my server. I get some strange looks, but I can assure you, the toast now arrives black and scary, just the way I like it.

There is nothing about this story that surprises me. Show me your average man, tell me he carries around a laminated photo of burnt toast in his wallet and in all likelihood, I’m not buying it. With most of the world’s population I’d say “What? That makes no sense.” But not with Nantz. By the same token, if you asked me to draw up a list of people who potentially have black toast pictures with them at all times, I think I’d pick Jim Nantz and his boytoy Peyton Manning. I’m not sure why. They just both give off a “Waitress, I demand the toast look like … THIS! Bring me this color toast or bring the manager with you when you come back” vibe about them. That smarmy, privileged, I’m-better-than-you, feed-me-inedible-food-because-I-told-you-to-and-don’t-give-me-any-of-your-lip look that is unmistakable.

And since Nantz mentioned it, I bet the exchange with the toast server always goes just like this:

Nantz’ obsessive blackened toast creepiness is enough to make me want to demand he stop fawning over Mr. Kraft. That’s the purview of normal, golden brown toast eaters, only.

Blog Author: 
Jerry Thornton
With the Bruins sitting on the brink of missing the playoffs, Pierre McGuire joins the show to discuss what has been going on with the B's. Also, he talks about the chances of Jimmy Vesey joining the Bruins.
What better way to end a rough season in Lakerland than with a leaked video scandal involving their point guard of the future?
Glenn, Lou, and Christian continue to preview the Red Sox roster with opening day right around the corner.
John Farrell has named Travis Shaw as the starter at third base for opening day. Of course, this only leads to questions from OMF as they break down that and the other roster decisions.

 

NY Post[A] growing number of men [are] participating in “man showers,” in which guys put their own bro-ish spin on the traditional, female-centric baby shower.

And these bashes are gaining popularity: Social media site Pinterest reports that searches for “man showers” increased by 149 percent in 2015. …

“It’s a really interesting phenomenon,” says Simon Isaacs, 35, the Park Slope, Brooklyn-based co-founder of parenting Web site Fatherly, whose own rather tame man shower involved letting loose at a Garth Brooks concert.

“Guys are getting more and more involved with their wives’ pregnancies,” Isaacs adds. “Ninety percent of men are participating in picking out registries, we’re encouraging them to take more paternity leave. I think having something that allows a guy to transition from dude to dad is an important element in getting him prepared [for fatherhood].”

I’m sorry, what did you say, Simon Issacs? Something about “man showers,” Pinterest and Garth Brooks? I couldn’t really hear you over the sound of American manhood standing in its own grave and digging the hole deeper.

This is what it’s come to. In my father’s time, even being in the delivery room was unheard of. You dropped your wife off at the hospital, put her in the hands of the doctor, grabbed a six pack and a pack of smokes and went home to wait for the call to come meet your baby. It was simple and it worked for all involved.

Then somewhere between his generation and mine, attendance became mandatory. And not just in the birthing unit, but going to the classes, listening to lectures about breast-feeding (like I play any kind of a role in that dynamic), getting schooled on the breathing exercises. They even asked me to come around to the foot of the bed to take in all the action, to which I answered, “Yeah, I’m all set. I’d rather hang onto a little of the mystery, thanks.”

Even that was fine. It still preserved the important, time-honored tradition of our fathers. Namely, getting together with your friends to hand out cigars, brag, show pictures of the baby and get drunk. But I have to draw the line at “man showers.” Novelty cakes, women’s social media sites, baby registries and “Friends in Low Places?” It would less unnerving if man showers actually involved men taking showers.

Sorry, but this country was built by men who didn’t have to “transition from dude to dad.” They just provided for their families, fixed their own cars and kicked ass and would walk into the lion enclosure at the zoo before they’d go to some bros shower.

All we can hope is that this isn’t really a phenomenon and that word doesn’t get out. The rest of the world is already becoming convinced we’ve become a nation of hipster weaklings. And the “man showers” fad is like exposing our jugular vein to them. Man up, bros.

Blog Author: 
Jerry Thornton

 

Batman. Superman. Clutch “The Rockets Bear”.You can’t beat these three together! (from last night’s Houston Rockets game)

Posted by FOX 26 Houston on Saturday, March 26, 2016

Let this be a lesson to you, “Batman V. Superman” director Zach Snyder. Watching the world’s most iconic superheroes duke it out doesn’t have to be a grim, overly serious monochrome slog. It can actually be fun. Just because the two main characters are orphans who have spent their lives seeing the worst humanity has to offer and fighting back the darkness doesn’t mean a fight between them can’t be a lighthearted romp.

And this should put all professional sports leagues on notice as well. Putting two little kids on a mat and forcing them to fight each other might be warped and downright barbaric. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t entertaining as hell. We need more baby fights at ballgames.

Blog Author: 
Jerry Thornton
The legendary Mr Skin joins Kirk Minihane's Enough About Me to talk about his career covering celebrity nudity, the golden age of celebrity nudity, the nude scene that opened their eyes back in the 80's, and the greatest nude scene of all-time.