DOWN WITH PANTS!

First a question - Ted, have you read the book The Areas of My Expertise by John Hodgeman yet? You would really dig it. It is like reading a book version of Narnarnarnar. Excellent!

Now we move onto the Best of DWP! - 2005 - August through October.

In August I discovered that little people kind of scare me...

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I have to say, Dwarves (or little people if we are acting PC) creep me the fuck out. I have never personally met even one midget so the majority of my experiences have been from television. Thus, for the most part, I have only ever seen them acting crazy. I will always have the image of Bushwick Bill jumping on that guy and beating the shit out of the pavement in the Ghetto Boy's "My Mind is Playing Tricks On Me" video. Or Verne Troyer drunk and naked on the Surreal Life. Or Tom Cruise jumping around on a couch during Oprah. Midgets acting crazy, that is what I know.

In fact, on Sunday I was in Hollywood and we were roaming around outside of the Hollywood and Highland Center where all the freaks dress up in costume and we came across Chucky slashing children's throats. Seriously, there was a midget dressed up in a Chucky costume walking around and approaching children from behind and putting the knife right up to their necks and laughing his ass off. If I was a child I would have nightmares for the rest of my life of this lunatic. But since he was a cute little Dwarf dressed up in costume, nobody seemed to mind.

I guess, the point of this post is to urge everybody to treat Dwarves or Little People or Midgets or whatever just like everybody else. If a Dwarf sneaks up on your child and puts a knife to his throat, don't laugh, punch the dude right in the mouth. If Verne Troyer starts peeing all over the place, lock that little shit in a bathroom. If Tom Cruise starts mouthing off to you about Scientology, kick him in his wee itty bitty groin.

Midgets are people just like you and me, and just like a lot of normal sized people, some of them deserve a good ass kicking. But before you do pick on a midget remember Bushwick Bill beating up the pavement because some of those little fuckers can probably fight better than you. Except for that pussy Tom Cruise, you don't have to worry about him.

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In September I started playing softball again after five years off. It didn't go very well...

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What are the three worst things you can possibly do? I think I have the answer...

1. Choke a dude to death with your bare hands.
2. Eat a newborn baby for sport.
3. Strike out swinging in slow-pitch softball.

Well, one down, two to go. That's right, tonight, I choked a dude to death with my bare hands! Ok, that isn't true, although I kind of wish I had because I wouldn't feel nearly as bad as I do now. I struck out in slow-pitch softball. In fact, I struck out in slow-pitch softball...Twice!!!

There is perhaps nothing more embarrassing than swinging and missing a ball lobbed to you specifically so you can hit it a mile. Slow-pitch softball is a sport designed so that nobody ever has to strike out. And yet, I thought I could take on god himself, who had a hand in designing this sport, and turn slow-pitch softball inside-out.

I have only played softball maybe four times in the last five, maybe even six years and needless to say I am out of practice. So it's kind of understandable that I struck out my first time at bat. In my second at bat I grounded out to third and in my third at bat I hit the ball about as hard as you can but the third baseman made an outstanding play to rob me of a double. In the bottom half of the sixth inning, with the game on the line down by two runs with two men on and two outs, I managed to swing and miss again. This time it was totally inexcusable.

So tomorrow, instead of watching my Bowling Green Fighting Falcons beat up on the Boise State Broncos on the gridiron after work, I need to find myself some batting cages and take about 100 swings to get my timing back before my next game on Thursday for a coed team. It's one thing to strike out in front of a bunch of guys, but it's something totally different to do it with girls around.

Or maybe I'll just stay home and eat myself some baby. It's probably more enjoyable than striking out in slow-pitch softball.

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In October I got pissed off at undercover homophobes...

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Today, Houston Comets forward Sheryl Swoopes came out of the closet and announced that she was gay. I think it is great for her that she has decided to not be worried about this any more and live her life like she wants, just like all of us heteros do everyday.

This announcement caused a little bit of talk on ESPN Radio today, most of which was the typical male response, "lesbians in the WNBA, what a big surprise, isn't the whole league lesbian?" Or the typical dismissing and marginalizing all women athletes in general.

But what really pissed me off, and the argument that pisses me off more than anything when people try to talk about homosexuality, is the whole "I don't want to hear about your sexuality. We don't flaunt our heterosexuality, why do gays come out and flaunt their homosexuality?" This is what ESPN's Colin Cowherd argued this morning about the announcement while still trying to remain un-homophobic.

That is the most retarded and ignorant argument ever argued about anything. Virtually every single moment of the day is taken up with the flaunting of heterosexuality. You can't go more than five feet without someone talking about their wife, husband, boyfriend or girlfriend, or the chick or dude that they think is so fucking hot, or seeing an ad obviously targeted at heterosexuals, or you see some intensely high levels of hetero PDA. But when one person comes out of the closet, it's "oh, they should just keep that to themselves."

Heterosexuality is shamelessly promoted at every single turn. Sometimes you hear homophobes say "if they can have a gay pride parade, why can't we have a straight pride parade?" You know why? Because every single day is a straight pride parade on every street corner, on every television station, in every office, at every shitty nightclub. How often do we really see gay culture face-to-face? Maybe once or twice a day at the most?

If you are going to make this argument, then the only way I can respect your opinion is if you practice what you preach. Try going through your life without ever being affectionate in public with your significant other or even mentioning them to anyone else. Try changing your mannerisms or dress to look less hetero than you currently do. Try not playing slowpitch softball because it is too "straight".

Just try to be an un-sexual being like you are asking gays to be, I would love to see how miserable you would be at it. If you can't, well then you have to stop using that argument because it is bullshit and makes you a homophobe even if you don't want to be. You are just going to have to get over it and enjoy your straight to gay ratio of 2880:1 or so.

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Tomorrow we wrap up this this crazy year at Down With Pants! and I couldn't be more excited! Why I don't know, but still, Woo friggin' hoo!

First of all, I want to thank the guys over at Analog Medium for nominating me for Most Humorous Blog in the BoB Awards. It is our first nomination for any of these awards and I am very flattered. So let's bring on the funny with more of the Best of DWP! 2005 - Part Deux. May through July.

In May I got married. It was a big deal. Both Dave at Blogography and Ted at Narnarnarnar helped me out while I was gone on my honeymoon. Ted attended our wedding and wrote a very accurate recap of the weekend....

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Narnarnarnar and Hips-O-Doom had been looking forward to the nuptials of DWP! and Death? for quite some time. While Hips-O-Doom was looking forward to her first stint as a bridesmaid, Narnarnarnar had other plans. He was going to wear something so gorgeous to the reception that it would cause a mind-bending sensation that curved the fabric of space-time and echoed down through the ages. A nuclear holocaust of fashion, if you will.

In preparation for this, he started shopping for his getup weeks in advance. The bottom was a no-brainer: a jewel encrusted Utilikilt with a seven foot tall fan of peacock feathers extending from the backside, making it look like a shredded, Paul Bunyan-scale CD was exploding from his butt. The top was more of a problem. Narnarnarnar did not want to force it, so he wandered the department stores and thrift stores, waiting for it all to click.

Deep in the back of American Eagle, he found it. It was given to him by a withered old Chinese man who looked a little like Pat Morita, and little like the guy from the beginning of Gremlins. He opened a black onyx steamer trunk covered with deep claw marks, and supernatural yellow light spilled out. There it was. A fiber optic mesh shirt.

Narnarnarnar and Hips-O-Doom arrived in Seattle without incident, save for the stares, strip searches and questions regarding dubious patriotism that Narnarnarnar had to undergo when airport security saw what he was going to wear to Love-A-Palooza 2005.

"Fascists," Narnarnarnar grumbled as they exited the airport and merged onto I-5.

Hips-O-Doom had not yet seen the getup, but Narnarnarnar was eager to model it for her in the hotel room. He came twirling out of the bathroom, the peacock feathers slashing the wallpaper and the fiber optics unambiguously revealing his total lack of torso muscles.

"Breathtaking, isn't it?" he said. Moisture started streaming from her eyes. "Are those tears of joy or tears of jealousy?" he asked with a sneer.

"I think my eyes are bleeding," Hips-O-Doom responded.

At the gates of Love-A-Palooza 2005, Narnarnarnar was met by six very deadly looking bridesmaids dressed in dark, fluid red. They were holding cricket bats, a large spool of duct tape, and a dozen Sharpie markers. He turned to Hips-O-Doom for an explanation, but she had already silently left his side and joined the other six.

Minutes later, he was wrapped in a silver cocoon of duct tape, with a small gap left for his eyes. An extremely convincing image of a tuxedo was drawn over it like some sort of optical illusion. He was then wrestled into a seat next to three other similar looking cocoons. His peacock feathers had been plucked bald and placed in the hair of the bridesmaids: war trophies.

"Stop wriggling," the Maid of Honor growled at him and raised the cricket bat menacingly. He stopped.

When Death? finally made her entrance, a hush fell over the guests and Narnarnarnar's heart sank. It was clear he would never echo down through the ages. Instead he was doomed to forever play Hector to Death?'s Achilles. He leaned back in his chair and waited for the dancing to begin. He would waggle his heartbreak away long into the night.

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Still thinking about the wedding in June, I made an interesting discovery on our marriage license...

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Well, if it isn't my arch-nemesis Down With Pants! and
his new wife Death? to whom I'm fairly indifferent...

Holy Crap! I was just looking at our marriage license and noticed something very peculiar. The signature on the line for the Snohomish County Auditor is that of Bob Terwilliger, AKA Sideshow Bob. How cool is that? That Bob sure is prolific. He has tried to kill Selma, framed Krusty, been elected mayor of Springfield, tried to kill Bart numerous times and has landed on his feet once again as the Snohomish County Auditor. Good for you Bob and thank you for making our marriage official! Now about all of those new Bart killing policies...

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And in July I started to write letters to people who pissed me off, including this one to my favorite neighbor...

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Dear Skank That Lives Downstairs:

Shut the fuck up! We have lived above you for a month and a half now and have been awakened by your drunk ass and whatever nasty fucking guy you bring home at least five times and have had to listen to you ranting and raving on the phone countless more times. I'm sick and tired of all the drama.

3:30 in the morning is not an acceptable time to yell at the top of your lungs at that foul boyfriend of yours. I don't need to hear you yell "fuck" at him one hundred times in two minutes. I don't need to hear you drunkenly accuse him of every crazy fucking thing under the sun. And when you have your angry makeup sex, for god's sake close your window! The neighborhood does not need to hear the spanking, the screeching and most of all, the finishing groan by that douche bag that is laying on top of you. If I find that I am sterile in the future, I will be suing your ass. Millions and millions of my boys may have lost the will to live and you are to blame.

If you start screaming at the top of your lungs that late again I will have to assume that you and that douche bag are fighting and I will be forced to call the cops. Maybe the police stopping by because of a report of suspected domestic violence will get your skank ass to shut the fuck up.

Peace and love, you dirty drunken whore,

First of all, I want to wish everybody a belated Merry Christmas! Death? and I had a great Christmas Day spending 16 hours at a completely sold out Disneyland. It was a lot of fun, not nearly as stressful as we expected and, this is going to sound really cheesy but here we go anyway, very magical.

Also, I want to thank my Secret Santa, Dizzy Scorpio, for her gift. I loved it! Thank you very much!

Now that Christmas is over it is time for the obligatory Best of Lists. Since I have gained a lot of new readers late in the year I thought it would probably be good to recap our year here at DWP! and bring to you the best of DWP! - 2005.

In January I discovered something amazing about myself...I'm Magic!

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Friday morning I brought a Diet Cherry Coke with me to work. I drank a little bit more than half of it before setting it on my workstation and forgetting about it. We had a leak in the roof above our area and had to move a bunch of boxes around so that our building manager could figure out the problem.

While moving these boxes I must have bumped my workstation ever so slightly and knocked my soda over. I went to the restroom and did some other work and about half an hour later I returned to my workstation and was stopped dead in my tracks by what I found...

Completely freaked out I ran into the other room and yelled at my coworkers to come see what I found. Everybody accused me of setting it up and didn't believe that it could just happen randomly.

Of course this phenomenon is easily explained. But before you start spouting off some kind of scientific crap about center of gravity and whatnot, let me set you straight. It obviously was Magic. I must be magic. There really is no other explanation. These powers that I possess are strong. So you'd best not cross me or else you might find yourself a victim of my magic just like this can of Diet Cherry Coke.

"Please squander my money! Please squander my money!"

I have a weird fascination with televangelists and one of my favorites over the past few years has been Benny Hinn. I love watching his crusades and revivals on TBN despite my hatred of everything that he believes in and preaches. He is just such an amazing showman and such an amazing shyster and it's incredible to see him put a spell on everybody that he preaches to. I just marvel at the incredible amount of lying and cheating, the incredible opulence that surrounds Benny in everything he does, the amazing hypocrisy in his preaching and the power that he holds over people despite all of this.

So imagine my excitement when I found out about a two hour special on Dateline NBC about Benny that aired last night. I almost missed the entire thing and only saw the final 30 minutes or so, but even in that half hour I was totally blown away at what a gigantic douche bag Benny Hinn is.

Wow. Watching him for years I understand that he is just an awful person who tricks people into believing that he is healing them. But faith healers have been around forever in virtually every religion. This game is nothing new. But the way that he spends and spends and spends the church's money and lies about where the donations are going is criminal and rivals even the worst of all of the corporate scandals of the last few years.

I'm not a religious person but sometimes I wish that there is a Hell solely for people like Benny Hinn that use spirituality and God as a weapon (and a shield) in their quest to become rich and powerful. He is a predator of the most manipulative kind who preys on people who need God in their lives but end up with a false prophet named Benny, better know to you and me as Pastor Douche Bag.
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And in April we elected a new Pope, so let us continue the sacrilege...

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"HOW WE LIVIN' VATICAN CITY! HABEMUS PAPAM BITCHES!!! C-LAW...LET'S KICK IT!

Uh, uh, aaaaaaaahhhh yeah...

Just throw your hands in the A-yer and wave 'em like ya just don't cay-yer and if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit somebody say oh yay-yer.

The clinic, the clinic, the clinics on fire! The clinic, the clinic, the clinics on fire...
we don't need no water let the muthafucka burn, burn abortion clinic, burn!

Somebody Sing Oh la, oh la ay...Oh la, oh la ay!
Oh la, oh la ay...Oh la, oh la ay!

I wanna hear ya say We don't need no condoms, come on...We don't need no condoms!
I can't hear you! We don't need no condoms...We don't need no condoms!

(Benedict starts doing the Ed Lover dance)
Go Benny! Go Benny! Go, go, go Benny!
Go Benny! Go Benny! Go, go, go Benny!

I wanna hear the ladies say AIDS is for the wicked...AIDS is for the wicked!
Come on ladies, say AIDS is for the wicked...AIDS is for the wicked!

After mass it's the after mass party and, after the party it's St. Peter's lobby and, after the lobby ya gotta freak an alter boy's body and...

Now somebody, anybody, everybody SCREAM!!!....AHHHHHHH!!!

HOLY SEE UP IN THE PLACE TO BE...PEACE BITCHES, I'M OUT!

This will probably be one of the worst all-time Down With Pants! posts for my average reader, but a godsend for all of those hopeful college basketball google searchers everywhere.

But if you didn't already know, I am a college basketball freak. I especially love mid-major college basketball programs and smaller. And one thing that I have been keeping an eye out for for years has been jerseys from these smaller college basketball teams.

So I embarked on a journey to find some of these jerseys for sale online (about a month too late, I would have loved a Rider jersey for Christmas!) and found that very few sell them. So without further adieu, I bring you the mid-major college basketball jerseys that I could find for sale online...

Binghamton Bearcats - $29.98 - Small through 2XL
Bucknell Bison - $40 - Small through 3XL
Butler Bulldogs - $50 - Medium through 2XL
Charlotte 49ers - $39.98 - Small through XL - kind of crappy though
Cleveland State Vikings - $50 - Small through XL
Dayton Flyers - $40 - XL through 4XL (add $2 for XL-4XL)
Detroit Mercy Titans - $59.95 - Medium through 3XL - Willie Green throwback
Gonzaga Bulldogs - $50 - Small through 2XL
Montana Grizzlies - $50 - Small through 2XL
North Dakota Fighting Sioux - $45.23 - Medium through XL
Pacific Tigers - $44.98 - Small through large (what a bummer, I need a 2XL!)
Rider Broncs - $50 - Medium through 2XL
Sacred Heart Pioneers - $50 - Small through 2XL
Saint Louis Billikens - $79.98 - Small through XL
Saint Mary's Gaels - $55 - Medium through 2XL (add $4 for 2XL)
Sam Houston State Bearkats - $79 - Customizable! Link is to a PDF file. Not sure if these are still available though.
Utah State Aggies - $49.95 - Small through 2XL

If you know of more jerseys online please email me at downwithpants@gmail.com.

It's been a crazy week already, so I apologize for the lack of posts. Hopefully I'll get onto a better schedule soon and will get to some of the great Ask The Pantsless Pontificate questions that I got.

In the meantime I bring you a candidate for the Worst Christmas Gift Ever award. That's right, some crappy gift giver may get you a Staples Easy Butto. Perfect for all your extra crap in the house needs. Thanks Santa, you cheap bastard!

Ok, in all fairness to Staples they are donating all proceeds to the Boys and Girls Club of America, so maybe it isn't that bad after all.

I just happened to have Saturday Night Live on as background noise while fooling around on the internet late that night when this hilarious rap caught my attention. One of the best SNL skits in years and years. If you haven't seen it yet click here to check it out. Thanks to YesButNoButYes for directing me to the link.

"So, as a 30-something woman still searching for love, is it okay to ask a guy out? How about if she's dropped several subtle [read obvious] hints that he hasn't picked up on. Does that change the answer? Does the answer change if he is a coworker? How about if I were a hot leggy blonde vs a mousy brown-haired chick with glasses?" - Growing Old Needing A Dude

First let's just deal with the asking a guy out subject because the coworker subject is something totally different.

This is going to sound a little bit backhanded, GONAD, and I'm sorry if it is, but at this point in your life it is time to put aside any bullshit dating customs and get down to business if you are serious about finding love. Grow some balls and ask some dudes out.

Hints don't work. We are clueless to hints, even the most obvious ones. Hell, even straight up asking a guy out doesn't necessarily mean he'll get the hint. I was asked out on a date once and I guess I turned the girl down, but didn't even realize I had been asked out until almost five years later when a mutual friend made a joke about it. If I remember right the question was worded oddly or made in a weird context and I thought she was making a general reference and not really making a serious inquiry.

Point is, men are dumb. At some point, women have to push the subject on us and not let us act like idiots in the face of the obvious. Ask your boy out, and if he is turned off by your directness and clings to this outdated idea of the traditional rather than the possibility of something good than fuck him, he ain't for you.

Now onto the other two parts of the equation. Speaking strictly as a male, GONAD, I can honestly say that every man wishes that a hot leggy blonde would just walk up to them and ask them out. But you are the one who is going to do the asking and homeboy probably won't get that same proposition from a hot leggy blonde anytime soon so unless he has a mental disorder and will only accept propositions from hot leggy blondes, it is a moot point.

As for the coworker business, one of the top places to meet someone of the opposite sex is at work. It is a prime socializing location. Hell, for some of us it is the only socializing you do all day. But you have to determine what the office politics are like at your job for yourself. I have no idea. Every office is different.

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"What should I demand from my husband in exchange for the BJs? I'm not giving those up for free, yo." - For Every Lewd Lick And Touch I Order Gifts In Rose and Lavender

I can't believe I am giving real advice rather than tongue-in-cheek crap like I intended but I have a real answer for this question too.

In this case, FELLATIO GIRL, men can take a hint. A blowjob is the ultimate hint. Men are not stupid when it comes to a BJ.

When your husband does something you like and you want it to happen again you have to reward him with a surprise suck. A blowjob that comes completely out of the blue.

He will then review his entire day to figure out where this came from. Most likely he will try to replicate everything that he did for you that day until he hits upon the one thing that did the trick. When he hits upon that you must give him another BJ.

Soon enough he will be trained. You will get what you want all the time. Probably too much. You must then stop and train him to do something else. You can't confuse him by trying for two different things at the same time either. Don't get greedy.

If that doesn't work then you should demand cash or merchandise. You're not a prostitute if the man is your husband.

***More of your questions to come later in the week. If you want to Ask The Pantsless Pontificate scroll down the page two posts or email me at downwithpants@gmail.com

Today my week and a half vacation came to an end.

After being laid off last Wednesday my prospects felt bleak. My hopes waned. Christmas felt like it was ruined. My unemployment benefits were up in the air. There were no good jobs listed anywhere. College basketball was the only thing that could cheer me up.

Luckily, Craigslist came through and I found one promising job listing. I then half-heartedly applied for a couple more jobs to get up to my state mandated three job contacts for the week. With only one real iron in the fire it felt like I could possibly go well into the new year without a job.

But that one Craigslist listing paid out. I had an interview on Wednesday, another interview this morning, and was then offered the position this afternoon. The process was quick, easy and I came out smelling like a rose with a job that will pay me more money with a more stable company with great benefits. I'm still a little shocked at how things turned out.

I always somehow land on my feet despite myself. Things always work out for the best. I'm never sure how it happens, but it does and I couldn't be more thankful for the really good luck that always manages to follow the bad luck in my life.

HOLY SHIT! Would Peter Jackson please just take it easy on everybody. He has totally blown every other movie straight out of the water with King Kong. It was such an incredible movie that words do not do it justice. So get your ass down to the theater - If you are in or around LA, I highly recommend seeing it at the Cinerama Dome in Hollywood, that's where we saw it tonight - and get ready to have your world rocked. And don't feel weird about cheering along, everybody in the theater during our showing did.

After we saw the best movie ever made (seriously, I think it is a possibility) we went to the DWP Light Festival at Griffith Park. I'm very flattered by all of the attention from the City of Los Angeles, I guess my little blog has come a long way. What's that? Department of Water and Power? What do they have to do with anything?

I have always wanted to be an advice columnist. I don't know why. I just really want to help people. It is my calling to do good and now I offer my services to you, my faithful reader. I care, I really do, and I swear that I will give you good, helpful advice that I think we all can learn something from.

So please, if you need some advice, fill out the form below and hit "Ask It" and I will gladly do my best to give you the help you so sorely need. And if you want to remain anonymous, that's fine. You don't have to fill out the whole form. Just give me some kind of snappy name like Dan Savage always has.

UPDATE: Come on people, drop me a question or two. It doesn't have to be groundbreaking stuff here. It doesn't have to be a serious problem or anything. Just fill out the form quickly on your way through (blog explosioners, it won't take more than 30 seconds, I swear). I just need some questions to work with here. By the way, it's an email form. Your question will be emailed straight to me and not posted directly on the site or anything.

Over on the right hand side of Down With Pants! underneath the blogroll is my new tenant for Blog Explosion's Rent My Blog. Miss Ann Thrope has a very nice blog that you should check out real quick, plus she is paying me good credits to be a part of the Down With Pants! experience so hopefully she will get her money's worth. If not Miss Ann, I am really sorry.

Now that I am unemployed I have the opportunity to watch the greatest game show of all time, The Price Is Right, featuring what should be the oldest man on the face of the earth, Bob Barker. I haven't watched The Price Is Right in years so I am having to get used to the inflated prices of the prizes. I remember when $6,000 was a high bid for a showcase.

Today's show featured a blue-eyed, blonde haired young man by the name of Aryan who won himself a car. Aryan? As in aryan race or aryan nation? This sounds like a word that should be avoided at all costs especially if you are naming your whiter-than-white baby boy.

Just like the swastika the name Aryan has another, more noble, Eastern religious meaning but was unjustly used by the Nazis. But that still doesn't make it ok as a baby name. You don't hear the last name Hitler anymore and maybe you shouldn't hear the first name Aryan anymore.

Unless the kids name is Aryan Hitler. That's a double negative and they cancel each other out.

So congratulations Aryan Hitler on your big win on The Price Is Right! You will look sharp driving the streets of Sandpoint, Idaho in that little number.

On Wednesday morning I got laid off from my job. Great! Two weeks before Christmas and my income source has dried up and I haven't bought shit. I have been in a serious funk since then. Depressed and bored isn't a good combination at all. But I found the one thing that can really cheer me up in no time at all. A college basketball tripleheader!

That's right, this morning I left Ventura at 9:30 AM to go to the Arrowhead Pond in Anaheim to see the Washington Huskies take on the New Mexico Lobos at noon, UCLA versus Nevada at 2:30 and then a quick jaunt up to Westchester to see Loyola Marymount face USC at 7:00. I just got back at 10:45.

Seeing this Huskies team beat the Lobos 81-71 in the first game of the John Wooden Classic cheered me up right away, even though they didn't play great. New Mexico had a great shot to knock them off cutting a huge deficit to one point with eleven minutes left but Hans Gasser, of all people, got them out of their funk.

I can't believe what I am about to say, but I think it is possible that this years Husky team could potentially be a better, more complete team than last years squad. They don't have an explosive, exciting player like Nate Robinson and their backcourt is inexperienced and that showed this afternoon, but every other position is improved and more balanced. I am psyched to see them later in the season at USC and UCLA.

The UCLA/Nevada game was exciting for the first half but got out of control late and turned out to be kind of a yawner with UCLA winning 67-56 in the final game of the Wooden Classic. But the game was worth it if only to give John Wooden a standing ovation late in the game. For a big college hoops fan like me, even though I don't care for UCLA, seeing John Wooden in person was an honor.

But the game of the day was saved for last. It was homecoming at Loyola Marymount and it seemed like the entire student body showed up drunk and rowdy. Gersten Pavilion, which is kind of a dump - but a very lovable dump, was electric with crosstown big-wig rival USC in the gym.

USC led the game by as many as 15 but the Lions buckled down defensively and the USC lead was only two with 11 seconds left and the Lions with the ball. Wes Wardrop curled past a screen and had a wide open look at a three pointer, a shot he couldn't pass up no matter if you were playing for the tie or not, and just barely missed giving USC the 71-69 victory. USC was lead by Gabe Pruitt's 36 points. How USC is 5-2 is beyond me. Just wait until conference play, they are going to have a rough time.

Screw not having a job. It's college basketball season! The most wonderful time of the year. Or is that Christmas? Noooo, it's college basketball season for sure. How can I be depressed at a time like this?

Everybody knows Dookie. Everybody knows "Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)". Everybody has heard the hell out of American Idiot this year. But for my money, the best album that Green Day has made to this date is their 2000 release Warning, an album that does an amazing job of mixing punk rock with stripped down melodies a la the Beatles and the best lyrics they have written.

This album was overlooked by many simply because it didn't have a good radio single. "Warning" is a great song, but it doesn't have a solid radio hook that could attract the masses. The album's first single and most popular song was "Minority", lyrically an immature sounding song that doesn't fit on such a mature themed album.

But the lack of singles oriented songs are what make this album great. All the songs deal with complex issues of growing into full-on adulthood and the optimism and pessimism that goes along with that growth. All of the songs sound youthful and playful but mature and strong and work perfectly with the subject matter to paint a picture of the growth that they are experiencing. .

I think that this album hit home with me because it was that same growth that I myself was experiencing at the time. No song necessarily spoke to my situation directly, it just sounded like my situation. Your mid-20's are a weird time. You feel very young, but are expected to start being an adult. That is what this album sounds like to me and is why it remains one of my favorites to this day.

The second podcast from Down With Pants! is now available. Just like the first one, it features about an hours worth of fun and exciting music that I think you will enjoy all hosted by me, Brandon himself. All you have to do is add the following URL into your favorite podcasting thingy and give it a listen...

http://www.switchpod.com/users/downwithpants/feed.xml

The good news is that this time I was able to get it to appear as one file rather than broken into two. The bad news is that the sound quality is still a little shitty. I'm not particularly happy with Audacity yet, but hopefully I will figure it out and make it sound better soon.

To address the complaint by Ted that he wanted to see the names of the songs as they were playing I went ahead and created a playlist for the show. But you have to click here to check it out.

Please let me know what you think. Your feedback is always welcomed here at Down With Pants! so feedback away. Thanks!

Continuing on with sacrilege and blasphemy week here at Down With Pants! I bring to you yet another installment of Guys I Might Go Gay For.

Now, I know what you are saying. Yuck! Pat Robertson and Benny Hinn? I'm with you. They are about the worst two men in the world to go gay for. These two douchebags might be the worst candidates for gay sex ever. Hell, they might be the worst candidates for straight sex ever. How anybody could ever touch them is a mystery to me.

But they both believe that gays are going straight to Hell. It is because of that belief that I might be willing to take one for the team and, if their beliefs are correct, keep them out of Heaven. I might be going to Hell too, but at least I would take them down with me.

Although I think that God would understand. He might not have wanted them in Heaven in the first place but couldn't quite find the loophole to send them down to Hell. I might be greeted in Heaven as a hero. Wouldn't that be great!

Since this seems to be sacrilege week here at Down With Pants! and Dave mentioned "flaming gay" in the context of yesterday's post, I thought why not talk about the man who seems to get all sorts of dudes to go gay for him. That's right! It's Jesus!

When you watch TBN, and I do watch a lot of TBN, you can't help but notice all the guys that are ridiculously gay for Jesus. He is all these guys can talk about. They sound like a gaggle of middle school chicks talking about their latest crush.

Jesus said this and Jesus said that. Jesus died for our sins. I wish Jesus would just swoop down and save me from my wretched life. Isn't Jesus sooooo dreamy. Will you find out if Jesus would go to the Sadies Hawkins dance with me? Me and Jesus are going to marry and live together in a Palestinian free Israel and he will have a great job as king on earth and I'll just sit around the house and praise him and eat Bon Bons.

I might go gay for Jesus. I especially would go gay for Jesus if he was wearing that sweet orange around his head (where the fuck did I find this picture?). But we would have to have an open relationship. Jesus is cute and all, but me and Buddha have a good thing going and you wouldn't believe what Brahma can do with those four heads of his.

Today while checking out the basketball team pages of some small colleges in the Seattle area I came across this mission statement regarding Puget Sound Christian College...

To develop in each student, through the entire curricular and co-curricular programming, a fervent, God-conscious Christian experience kindled with the flame of lifestyle evangelism and missionary passion.

The first thing I had to ask myself was...Huh? Then I read it again, and again, and again, and again and I still haven't really figured it out. I think I get the gist of the statement, but I'm not so sure I understand the individual parts of the sentence. So lets go ahead and break it down.

1. through the entire curricular and co-curricular programming - This apparently means everything that the college does. Seeing that this is a mission statement for a college, this portion could easily be dropped and not be missed.

2. fervent - According to Merriam-Webster this means very hot or exhibiting or marked by great intensity of feeling. Also known as zealous.

3. God-conscious Christian experience - Is there any other kind of Christian experience? I guess this is kind of a shot at all of the Christian colleges that don't require a "God-conscious" experience. Those bastards! Seriously though, I am God-conscious. I use His name all the time when having a "Christian experience".

4. kindled - Of course you can't just throw a log onto the God-conscious Christian experience. You have to slowly get it going with...

5. the flame of lifestyle evangelism - Lifestyle evangelism? What does that even mean? Whatever it is, it sounds like a big hurking log, not a little bit of kindling. Doesn't Lifestyle Evangelism kind of sound like a condom?

6. missionary passion - Oh boy! How I love me some missionary passion! Finally something in this mission statement I can get behind. Well, maybe not. That wouldn't be missionary passion would it?

So after further review I have decided to amend the Puget Sound Christian College mission statement to...

To develop in each student a very hot, God-conscious "Christian experience" kindled with the flame of missionary passion while using Lifestyle Evangelisms.

Now that is much, much better!

I owe league dues to my buddy Joshua for fantasy football and to the league commissioner of my fantasy basketball league. I don't know why I haven't paid these dues yet, other than I have an unhealthy (or healthy, depending on how you look at it) hatred of paying bills. But I have been threatened by unprecedented fines in my fantasy basketball league and I feel bad that Joshua paid my dues for football so I finally broke down and paid. So as not to feel the wrath of Donnie, here is proof that the checks are in the mail...

That was both painful and liberating. Nothing like taking the burden of a debt off of your shoulders. If my banker is reading, I want you to make sure that nothing STOPS these checks PAYMENT when they try to cash them.

Does it make me a bad American to admit that I didn't spend even one red cent today? I didn't go to a store, I didn't riot for an XBox 360, I didn't kill for a new Elmo. I just finished the dishes from last night's Thanksgiving dinner, watched football, watched Tremors (what a great movie!) and watched the Washington Huskies absolutely crush Loyola Marymount in basketball.

I finally got out of the house for a few minutes when I brought Death? a plate of leftovers at the hospital since she is on call tonight. After that it has been dinner, TV, blogging, and working on a new podcast. To me, it was a very successful day of not contributing to our country's economic prosperity.

For the last hour and a half I have had to listen to my downstairs neighbor, Trixie (as we like to call her) and her boy toy fight. This isn't the first time this has happened, in fact it happens quite often. But tonight it was taken to a new, disturbing level.

The fighting wasn't that bad. Although, if my neighbors are going to fight, I want it to be a knock down, drag out, you fucked my sister kind of fight rather than the psycho babble that these two were spouting at each other. "Ohhhh, you're just mad because you don't understand what it's like to have a kid! You're mad because you can't understand why I have been mourning my father for the past year! You can't understand me..." Boo fucking hoo.

But the fighting is pretty much par for the course. What killed me was that after about 45 minutes, they started playing music very loudly. So loud that I could make out the song "Crush" by the Dave Matthews Band and the voices of both Trixie and her boy toy singing at the top of their lungs. I haven't heard anyone belt out a DMB song like that since my college days. It was awful then and it is doubly awful now.

After about five minutes of more Dave Matthews, but luckily no singing, the music was turned off and the fighting began again. It only just barely stopped and the laughing began. A scary sign that Dave might not be too far behind.

Maybe you don't understand the concept of the escalator, so let me explain. An escalator is a lot like stairs but the trick is that they move and you have to step off of them when you get to the top, there isn't really anything else you can do.

But, and here's the rub, when some stupid bitch who can't read a simple and clearly marked sign that reads NO STROLLERS!!! at the bottom stops where you have to step off because she has nearly dumped her baby out of the stroller, one has to take evasive action to get around said bitch or risk plowing right through them possibly injuring baby, bitch and themselves.

Since I know how an escalator works, imagine my surprise when all I saw was a rapidly disappearing escalator, a wall of bitch ass and a nearly upside down stroller where the escalator was rapidly disappearing. You were lucky that I was able to shake off the shock and quickly squeeze my way around your negligent butt so as not to splatter all of y'all.

But you're right, I'm really sorry I didn't say excuse me. Like you said, you were the one with the stroller there. It was really rude of me not to take the time to be polite while attempting not to run over a sorry excuse for a mom and her baby at the top of the escalator. You have every right to be upset at us.

Like hell. Don't you dare have the nerve to curse me and my wife out because of your rampant negligence and idiocy. Go get yourself some hooked on phonics tapes, a half a brain, some soap for that filthy fucking mouth of yours and a map to the nearest elevator and then I will start being polite. But until then, you had better watch out for me because the next time, I might not go around.

Happy Thanksgiving you shitty mommy!

I feel like doing a meme tonight. I don't know why. I don't really do memes, but I just have a hankering to do one. So here are the first 20 songs that come up when I push shuffle on my iPod (thanks to Laura for the idea)...

1. Sleepwalkin' - Modest Mouse, from Building Nothing Out of Something
2. Nothing In This World Can Stop Me Worryin' Bout That Girl - The Kinks, from the Rushmore Soundtrack
3. Papa Was A Rodeo - The Magnetic Fields, from 69 Love Songs Volume 2
4. Bone Dry - Dub Narcotic Sound System, from the Bone Dry EP
5. Move Somethin' - Talib Kweli, from Reflection Eternal
6. Wig In A Box - Polyphonic Spree, from Wig In A Box
7. Am I Worth You? - De La Soul, from AOI: Bionix
8. B.O.B. - Outkast, from Stankonia
9. The Corn Rocket - Southern Culture On The Skids, from Liquored Up and Lacquered Down
10. Smooth Criminal - Alien Ant Farm, from ANThology
11. Howwhywuz, Howwhyam - The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, from Devil's Night Out
12. Paragraph President - Blackalicious, from Blazing Arrow
13. Kung Fu - Ash, from 1977
14. Move On - Mike Doughty, from Future Soundtrack for America
15. My Mood Swings - Elvis Costello, from The Big Lebowski Soundtrack
16. Expo '86 - Death Cab For Cutie, from Transatlanticism
17. Spots - Pond, by Pond
18. Me And Julio Down By The School Yard - Paul Simon, from Negotiations And Love Songs 1971-1986
19. Motivation - Sum 41, from All Killer No Filler
20. Souljacker Part 1 - Eels, from Souljacker

A pretty solid set of music right there. I'm amazed there weren't any repeat artists. I have so many Outkast songs on my iPod (they have so many good songs, it's hard to cut any out) that it seems like they come up almost every other song which is fine by me.

Last night I was adding local college basketball teams to my links section and came across the Ventura College page and noticed a very big man in the back row...

After a double take and further examination of the picture to see if maybe he was standing on a chair, I clicked on the roster link and discovered Sun Ming-Ming, a 7-8, 360 pound freshman for the Pirates.

UPDATE...Thanks to Cammo who pointed out that this is the Sun Ming-Ming and thanks to my typing skills I found out a lot about this Ventura College behemoth and is a very interesting story.

Sun Ming-Ming had a lot of buzz around him when he entered the NBA draft last season. Despite his 7-8 frame, he went undrafted mainly because he had virtually no stamina and no speed.

It was later discovered that Sun had a tumor on his pituitary gland that needed to be removed to not only help him with his stamina but also to slow the release of growth hormone, a problem that would probably be fatal if not treated.

He had surgery to remove the tumor on September 27th and everything seems to have gone really well. Now that his life has been saved he can resume playing basketball and see if his game will be positively affected by the surgery. He wasn't able to even keep his arms up for long periods without getting tired. Hopefully these issues have been corrected. If it has, he will dominate the community college leagues down here and should become an NBA prospect again.

I'm definitely rooting for him. His story is so fascinating. He is from a poor Chinese family who couldn't even afford the right size shoes so he had to wear small ones that hurt the development of his feet. He is tall because of a tumor that eventually would have killed him, which is the ultimate mixed blessing. His surgery cost over $100,000, which he did not have, but thanks to a large loan, donations and the help of his agent he was able to get the surgery. He is in a massive amount of debt but at least he is now healthy and able to pursue his dream. And he can dunk without jumping! How cool is that?

He will be an interesting story to follow this season and that story will be played out about a half mile from my house at Ventura College. I think I can probably make the long trek to the gym to see a couple of games. Go Sun Ming-Ming and go Pirates!

As I mentioned before, we made a trip up the California coast this weekend and had a great time exploring the area. Here are ten things about said trip...

1. Hearst Castle is even more amazing than I expected. If you have ever been to Disneyland you have seen how ever single inch of the property is themed. Hearst Castle is just like that, but with art and gold instead of cartoons. It is absolutely gorgeous and opulent to the extreme. I would have given my right arm for an invitation to hang with old W.R.

2. Morro Bay isn't a typical California resort town. It is cheesy tourist rather than upscale boutique. Although I don't care for cheesy tourist that much, it was refreshing to be in a town like that away from the rich yuppies that frequent the boutique cities up and down the coast.

3. Don't you hate it when you have a really shitty meal on vacation? We had an awful lunch on Saturday (how do you mess up fish and chips or chili?) and I felt bad about it the rest of the day. Especially since we discovered the amazing amount of tasty options up the road in Cambria.

4. We made up for the shitty lunch by having an amazing dinner at The Sow's Ear in Cambria. Death? had one of the best Filet Mignons I have ever tasted and I had Macaroni and Cheese with chicken and andouille sausage and we shared an awesome plate of brie, almonds, bread and apples. I highly recommend The Sow's Ear if you are in the area.

5. I love driving through rural areas in the dark when it is clear and there is a full moon. There is something about being on a highway by yourself when all you can see is the outline of the mountains in the distance and the highway in front of you. If you can find a radio station playing old blues or jazz or something soft like that it is even better.

6. Speaking of radio, one of the radio stations was giving away a trip to see one of the weirdest concert lineups ever. Metallica is opening up for the Rolling Stones in San Francisco tomorrow night (and last night). What's next? I heard that Snoop Dog will be opening for Garth Brooks on his Wal-Mart tour.

7. Do I suddenly like wine? We did a little wine tasting around Paso Robles on Sunday. Typically when we go wine tasting Death? drinks and I drive mainly because I don't like wine. But I did some tastings at a couple of places and really enjoyed the majority of what I drank. Man, I am getting old.

8. I peed in earth's greatest urinal located at the Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo.

9. We saw the ultimate pair of Uggs on a 40 year-old woman who was attempting to look 18 and failing miserably. I hate Uggs with a passion. Why anyone would wear them, especially in California, is beyond me. Uggs have got to go! Now!

10. 75 degrees at the coast and 80 degrees inland on November 13th. I guess this is the reason people live in California. Long live the Central Coast!

First of all, I want to apologize for the lack of posts last week. Now that I have been keeping myself busy with basketball and softball the weeks go very fast and then at the end of the week I look back and realize I didn't do any meaningful writing. So again, I apologize and I hope to do better this week.

Death? for only the third or fourth time in the last four months had an entire weekend off from the hospital. So we took advantage of it and headed north to the central coast to see Hearst Castle, do some wine tasting and explore the area (where we found a giant chess board, pictured above). More about our weekend tomorrow, but now I am off to watch the second episode of the Boondocks.

I don't know why but when I was leaving Von's (Safeway for all of you normal people) tonight I was struck with a profound sadness. I interrupted the automatic door slowly closing itself just before it was completely closed. It dutifully opened up for me, but it whined in a way that made feel really sorry for it. All it wanted to do was have it's two doors come together and it worked so hard to get there but I had to come along and ruin it. I felt like such an asshole.

P.S....Oh what a bummer. The Kings lost to the Red Wings for the second time this season, I think. This time in overtime but before the shootout. Nice work Machelle and David...

There are a whole bunch of things on my mind tonight including the California elections, French rioting, the Boondocks debut last night, the crappiness of Chicken Little and most importantly, lesbian cheerleaders. But I'm lazy so I just found a picture of some graffiti I saw earlier this year. He, he...it says Schlong!

Sweeps are upon us and The West Wing kicked it off tonight with a live debate between the two candidates, Matt Santos (Jimmy Smits - who Death? loves because he is a fellow Cornell alum and he is really cute) and Arnold Vinnick (Alan Alda - who I think is really cute, grrrr).

Now I have to preface this by saying that I am a big West Wing fan, even during the past two years when the show has fallen off, and I am a flaming liberal. Despite these two facts, I found this episode to be the biggest stinker in the West Wing's otherwise fine history. It was dull, it was contrived, it was poorly acted, it was too one sided and it was just plain lame. I was more entertained by the toe that I stubbed this morning and may have broken (you should see it, it is nasty).

I will give NBC credit for doing something different but I just kind of feel robbed of a normal episode by this snoozefest. Somehow they managed to make a debate even more boring despite the fact that it was supposed to be "real" after throwing out the rules in the beginning, an idea that seemed so contrived and ridiculous that I let out a big exasperated sigh as soon as it happened.

And although I hate to say this, I will agree that there was a strong liberal bias on this show. Matt Santos obviously won the debate and made Vinnick look pretty bad in doing so. All of the good points made were on liberal issues and all of the conservative points sounded extremely sinister and evil (which they are).

There were points made that had nothing to do with the previous storylines of the West Wing. When Matt Santos asked Vinnick to take the pledge to never go to war over oil, I cringed. This is not an issue in the Bartlett White House. It never has been. It made no sense in the context of the series.

I was happy to see all of the liberal points being made because they are right. And I especially loved the defense of the word liberal (I have always been proud to be liberal). But I expected more of a balance and more drama and more controversy.

I know where they are heading with this. Santos was behind by a major amount going into the debate and this should even it up. But this was a cheap and overly boring way to get the story back in line. I expect a lot more from the West Wing. Maybe my hopes are too high.

Tonight I attended one of the most highly anticipated high school football games in Ventura County this season between the crosstown rivals Saint Bonaventure Seraphs and Ventura Cougars. The entire city has been buzzing about this game for the past couple of weeks and it was widely predicted that this could be one of the greatest high school games to be played in this area this year, maybe even this decade, maybe even this century. This game featured so many stories that you couldn't help but be excited, even if you are a transplant who has no affiliation to either school.

The game featured the huge public school (Ventura) against the small Catholic prep school (Saint Bonaventure) who are huge rivals in every sport. Saint Bonaventure is a football powerhouse having won 18 straight and 89 of the last 92 games. Ventura is always a pretty good football team but has always played second fiddle to the Seraphs including two losses last year.

Both teams came into the game undefeated at 8-0 (3-0 in conference) ranked #1 and #2 in the region featuring explosive offenses that average more than 45 points a game. The team's quarterbacks, Matt Evans for Saint Bonaventure and Lee Mondol for Ventura, are both seniors who have been lifelong best friends. Both teams feature numerous players that will be playing division one college football next season.

The nearly 7,000 fans in attendance were hyped into a frenzy ready for the game of the year. The stage was set for an amazing football game. Unfortunately, what we got was the ass whooping of the year, or maybe the decade, maybe even the century.

Saint Bonaventure jumped down the throats of the Cougars immediately posting 30 points in the first seven minutes of play, 37 points in the first quarter and 47 in the first half. They were incredible shredding the poor Ventura secondary on every pass. They looked like a college team playing a middle school squad. I left at halftime when the score was 47-7 and the final score was eventually 60-14.

So the game didn't exactly live up to the hype. Saint Bonaventure was just way too good for the Cougars. But it appears that these two teams will meet again later this year in the playoffs and you can bet that both teams will have learned from this slaughtering. Maybe that will be the game of the year, decade or century.

I just finished downloading one of the greatest hip-hop albums to ever come out of the Pacific Northwest. Now granted, there haven't been very many hip-hop albums to come out of the PNW, but still, Sir Mix A-Lot's 1998 debut SWASS is a forgotten classic that deserves a spot in everybody's collection.

SWASS opens with Buttermilk Biscuits, one of two songs (the other is track 11, Square Dance Rap) featuring a high pitched, comedic sounding Mix A-Lot that originally pigeonholed him as a joke rapper but was a fun and different sound that got people interested.

But then you move on to a straight forward, old school rap song - Posse On Broadway, arguably one of the greatest songs ever written about Seattle and still to this day an anthem for all of us kids who grew up in and around Seattle. It gave me, an Olympia boy who wasn't very familiar with the big city other than the Kingdome, a quick tour around the town and introduced me for the first time to Dick's Drive-In.

Track four is the title cut SWASS which is a simple, boastful song that has the hook "don't you wish your boyfriend was SWASS like me?" This hook has been resurrected this summer with the Pussycat Dolls awful Don't Cha, but instead uses the lyrics "don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me?" The great thing about the Mix A-Lot song was we had no freaking idea was SWASS was. I still don't. That's what makes it so damn good and the Pussycat Dolls rip-off so offensive.

The next track is Rippin' and that's exactly what it does. This is Mix A-Lot at his rhyming and rapping best. Farther along in the disc comes Bremelo, and for anybody who has ever known anyone from Bremerton or even been to Bremerton, this song is a blessing giving us something to laugh at them about for the rest of our lives.

SWASS has a couple of stinkers and there is no doubt that, especially today, some of Mix A-Lot's rhymes sound corny. But every song has its own personality and quirks and each song conveys what Mix A-Lot was all about. Having fun, clocking dollars, wearing gold, Dick's hamburgers and ripping on Bremelos. What more could you ask for?

Many of you will recall the painful confession that I made last month in which I admitted to striking out twice in slow-pitch softball. Since that day my softball game has come a long way. Unfortunately it has come a long way to make no improvement leading me to nearly have a nervous breakdown last night about the loss of all of my once barely there athletic prowess after perhaps the worst softball game of my life.

I was never an athlete. I never lifted weights, I never ran, I never played on any high school teams, I just never had any interest. But I could at least hold my own on any court you put me on. I played a lot of pickup basketball, I played on numerous softball teams, I played intramural sports in college regularly. I kept myself busy athletically and typically performed at a pretty good level.

Working in baseball and working night jobs for the past five or six years I stopped playing sports. Softball was out because I worked most of the time. I moved around a lot and never found pickup basketball games. I discovered a lot of different kinds of foods that I loved and ate them until I peaked out at around 325 pounds or more. My athletic prowess was gone. I couldn't run, I couldn't shoot a basketball and I couldn't hit a softball.

Skip forward to today, I have lost a good deal of the weight. I, over the past year and a half, have started lifting weights and using the elliptical trainer for cardio for the very first time in my life. I am stronger and in better shape than I probably ever have been including high school and the first couple of years of college. I still have a long way to go to consider myself athletic but I am proud of where I am at in comparison to where I once was.

So why am I playing so damn bad on the softball field? Why haven't I been able to get myself back into the swing of things (no pun intended)? Why am I suddenly the worst player on the field? Am I over the hill at the ripe old age of 28?

I don't have any answers for this. Last night and all of today I was pretty down in the dumps. All I could think about was how bad I played and how I may have lost my athletic prowess forever. If you lose it once, can you ever get it back?

But I stopped my moping around and got right back up on the horse tonight. I went to the batting cages and hit for a half an hour totally breaking down my swing and rebuilding it from the ground up until I was absolutely crushing the ball by the end. I also taught myself some breathing exercises to calm myself down at the plate and I am confident that tomorrow night I can regain my game. This may sound excessive for rec-league softball that is just supposed to be fun, but I don't have fun if I suck that bad. For me to have a good time, I have to get better.

I also played basketball with some people from Death?'s hospital and was pleasantly surprised that I played extremely well. I expected to be run off the court within the first few minutes. I haven't run a full court game in at least two years but we played four games and I could have kept playing. This was a very good barometer for how far I've come.

So from down in the dumps to confident it was quite a roller coaster day. It is possible that my athletic prowess is back and in full force. I have a softball game tomorrow night to test this theory and my new swing out.

Happy Halloween from Napoleon, Dog and all of your friends at Down With Pants! Now give me some candy!

The Los Angeles Kings split a pair of games this weekend. On Friday night they were beaten by the San Jose Sharks 5-4. The Sharks scored the game winning goal with only four seconds left in the third period. What a bummer. So according to Inter-munuvian Hockey Whoopass Jamboree rules, I must put those stinky Sharks on my blog and provide a link to Rocket Jones. Sorry about the late credit Rocket.

On Saturday night I went to the Staples Center and saw the Kings beat Brian J. Noggle's St. Louis Blues in person. Thanks for picking a crummy team and thanks for the link Brian. Go Kings Go!

What's the problem? Was yesterday's post too narrow or do you all hate Greenlanders as much as I do? Oh well. But today's post is actually serious. No tongue in cheek whatsoever here. It probably shouldn't even be part of Let's See If I Can Piss Someone Off Week (although it will probably piss more people off than any other post), but what the hell, I have nothing else...

Today, Houston Comets forward Sheryl Swoopes came out of the closet and announced that she was gay. I think it is great for her that she has decided to not be worried about this any more and live her life like she wants, just like all of us heteros do everyday.

This announcement caused a little bit of talk on ESPN Radio today, most of which was the typical male response, "lesbians in the WNBA, what a big surprise, isn't the whole league lesbian?" Or the typical dismissing and marginalizing all women athletes in general.

But what really pissed me off, and the argument that pisses me off more than anything when people try to talk about homosexuality, is the whole "I don't want to hear about your sexuality. We don't flaunt our heterosexuality, why do gays come out and flaunt their homosexuality?" This is what ESPN's Colin Cowherd argued this morning about the announcement while still trying to remain un-homophobic.

That is the most retarded and ignorant argument ever argued about anything. Virtually every single moment of the day is taken up with the flaunting of heterosexuality. You can't go more than five feet without someone talking about their wife, husband, boyfriend or girlfriend, or the chick or dude that they think is so fucking hot, or seeing an ad obviously targeted at heterosexuals, or you see some intensely high levels of hetero PDA. But when one person comes out of the closet, it's "oh, they should just keep that to themselves."

Heterosexuality is shamelessly promoted at every single turn. Sometimes you hear homophobes say "if they can have a gay pride parade, why can't we have a straight pride parade?" You know why? Because every single day is a straight pride parade on every street corner, on every television station, in every office, at every shitty nightclub. How often do we really see gay culture face-to-face? Maybe once or twice a day at the most?

If you are going to make this argument, then the only way I can respect your opinion is if you practice what you preach. Try going through your life without ever being affectionate in public with your significant other or even mentioning them to anyone else. Try changing your mannerisms or dress to look less hetero than you currently do. Try not playing slowpitch softball because it is too "straight".

Just try to be an un-sexual being like you are asking gays to be, I would love to see how miserable you would be at it. If you can't, well then you have to stop using that argument because it is bullshit and makes you a homophobe even if you don't want to be. You are just going to have to get over it and enjoy your straight to gay ratio of 2880:1 or so.

Ok, yesterday didn't seem to piss anyone off. Probably because it was too true and very hard to argue with. That's ok, I can deal with it. But it won't happen again. So without further adieu, let's crank it up a bit...

I'm not a racist. I'm not a hate-monger. I'm not an ignorant bastard like a lot of people. But I do hate one group of people. A group of people so foul and so dastardly that I feel that they should be rounded up and sent to an ice covered island and forced to cower in fear on the only inhabitable areas on the entire godforsaken wasteland. Oh wait, they already are there. Ha ha ha, suckers!

That's right, I hate Greenlanders. Fuck those highly foreign aid receiving, coastal living, arctic circle hugging sons of bitches. All 56,000 of those fishy smelling, evangelical Lutheran church going, second largest ice cap having idiots can suck on a polar bear's big toe.

Just because you live on the world's largest island and you were granted full self-government in 1981 and then changed all the place names to native Inuit names in 1997 doesn't mean that you still aren't a bunch of Danish eating pastry monkeys.

So, Greenlanders, take your ice covered, parliamentary democracy within a constitutional monarchy centered in Nuuk governing, krone spending, one TV station watching "green" land, and shove it all the way up there where the sun doesn't shine. That's right, shove it in Savissivik, bitches!

P.S...If you want to do some incredible hate-mongering, I highly recommend the Oxford Atlas of the World. If you hate those fuckers from Kiribati, and I know you do (but I'm not sure why, they have a really pretty flag!), then you need to get this atlas. Really, what have you been waiting for?

It's Let's See If I Can Piss Someone Off Week here at Down With Pants! I think it is pretty self-explanatory so here we go...

I think women who don't have the majority of custody of their kids after a divorce are creepy and fucked up and not to be trusted. If you either don't want the responsibility of raising the children yourself or are so messed up that the man won custody, then you are a bad, bad mother and should not be trusted in the rest of your life.

The court system is set up to heavily favor the mother in any custody fight, which is probably the right way to go most of the time. Men are almost always looked upon as the responsible party for a divorce or are considered a much worse candidate to be a single parent than any woman. So for a woman to lose a custody case, she must be completely messed up. She must be an extremely selfish bitch, a raving lunatic, a nasty whore or all three like my downstairs neighbor, a single mother who only has her son one weekend a month.

She smokes like a chimney, she drinks like a fish, she curses like a sailor, she stays out at all hours, she brings home strange dudes, she screams at these strange dudes on the phone at any hour of the night in a demonic, possessed voice that has been haunting me since I first heard it. When she has her son around she doesn't seem to set any rules so he runs around with his buddies in the neighborhood all day and all night causing trouble. All of these things lead me to believe that she is an awful, horrible mother.

Of course, I could have told you that the day our landlord told us about her. As soon as I heard that she was a single mother who only has her son one weekend a month, I had a very bad feeling. Like I said, I don't trust any woman who doesn't have the majority of custody and that view has only been cemented by the bitchy, whorey, lunatic that lives downstairs.

We had quite a lot of fun on this wet and chilly Southern California weekend. This weather gives me the creeps. It feels like home, which is good, but I'm not in Cali for a homey feeling. If I wanted this we would move back to Seattle in a heartbeat. Where is the sun?

Anyway, the weekend started out without a single idea for what to do. But I happened to remember at the last minute that Weezer was playing the Santa Barbara Bowl on Friday night. We saw Weezer earlier in the year in Seattle and thought that they were good, but we didn't have to necessarily see them again. They played a good set that night but you might as well have just put one of their CD's in the player and hit random and close your eyes and imagined you were there. It would have been about the same.

So we put off buying tickets to see them in SB because of this and nearly forgot about it. Thankfully, we wised up about two hours before the show and rushed to the bowl, got great seats, and saw one of the best concerts either one of us have ever been to. Hot Hot Heat opened and was great, as one would expect. And Weezer turned it out rocking through all their hits mixing up the songs and doing some different things and just playing incredibly well. They really were on that night and I would go to see them again in a heartbeat.

On Saturday we went to the Getty Center in Los Angeles. The Getty is a beautiful campus of art galleries taking up an entire hill overlooking Brentwood and the 405 Freeway. You have to take a tram to get to the top and once you are up there it is like being somewhere totally away from the cares of the world down below you. It's a great setting for a museum and the art that accompanies it is impressive. There isn't a ton of widely known pieces in the Getty, but what they have is different and interesting. Our favorite section was devoted to the New York photojournalist Weegee.

We then headed down to Hollywood and had dinner at a great little Tunisian restaurant called Moun of Tunis. In the shadow of the massive Guitar Center next door, Moun of Tunis is hidden from the street so it is easily missed. But it shouldn't be missed if you are hungry for some awesome food including Blik (a poached egg and veggie turnover), a carrot and orange blossom salad that was one of the greatest tasting things I have ever eaten (Death? said it tasted the way some perfumes smell), B'Stilla (a chicken pie that consists of spiced ground chicken and some other good stuff wrapped in phyllo dough and served with powdered sugar) and lemon chicken. Belly dancers danced for us and the service was extremely helpful in explaining and helping us with our dinner. Moun of Tunis is probably the best restaurant we have eaten at since moving down here.

Today we got our Halloween act together. I now have my Dog the Bounty Hunter costume finished, thanks to the swarthy mullet wig that I found. Plus we carved a couple of pumpkins and decorated our porch expecting at least one person to come trick-or-treating next week. We then watched the West Wing (one of the saddest episodes ever!) and watched the L.A. Kings lose to the Calgary Flames in overtime. Good job Gir.

So it was a great weekend of unexpected pleasures. Here's to many more just like it!

The first ever Down With Pants! Radio podcast is online and ready to go. Episode one features about an hours worth of music ranging from Death Cab For Cutie to Throw Rag to Solomon Burke. The quality isn't great (especially when I am speaking, I don't really have a lisp, it just sounds like it on the podcast for some reason)because my equipment is garbage and I just wanted to get the first one done. Episode two should be much better because I have learned from my mistakes on this one.

To access my podcast just plug the following URL into iPodder or iTunes or whatever you use...

http://www.switchpod.com/users/downwithpants/feed.xml

I'm still working out some bugs with my hosting company and haven't figured out a way to get the podcast on as one whole file, so I had to break it into two sections so there should be two files when you download it.

If you download it and listen to it please drop me a comment so I can tell who is listening and most of all, enjoy! If you have any suggestions or tips or anything I also welcome the help.