Tale of the Tape: The Gym vs. Drinking

A few days ago, I finally returned to the gym after a long, unwarranted absence. It was time. Clothes weren't fitting right, climbing stairs left me winded, and my belly was distracting me during my golf swing. So I went during lunch yesterday, and then woke up at 6am today for a quick run. And you know what, I feel pretty shitty right now. And if you're gonna feel shitty, why not do something you enjoy? To settle the issue, I called upon The Missing LiNK Tale of the Tape.

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So, the gym won by a surprisingly narrow margin. Which I guess means I'll be back at it tomorrow. Unless, of course, someone wants to grab a beer. Anyone? Please?

What you won't see here.

Last month I wrote a quick piece about words and phrases you won't see in my blog. Today I'm adding a few to the list.

"Close the Loop" - This is an overused expression that has become the the heavy-handed tool of micromanagers (who, themselves, are heavy-handed tools.) When people decide they need to say something to you for the fourth time because they simply can't leave you alone or because they just like hearing themselves talk, they excuse the behavior by saying they were just "closing the loop." You know what, drop the corporate lingo babble and call it what it is...lazy filler language for the psuedo-intellectual. The only loop I'd like to see closed is around the neck of the next person to utter these words.

"yo" - Okay, I get it. A year or so back it was a cool urban affectation to use the word "yo" a lot. But it's over. Gone. We've beaten it so badly it should be dating Chris Brown. And I especially despise the people who decided they needed to put it at the front and back of the same sentence. The day I first heard something along the lines of "Yo, that honey is bangin', yo!" a little piece of my soul died. I'm sure somewhere, there was a kid who didn't get the toy he wanted and told his friends, "Yo! A no-go on the yo-yo, yo!" (Okay, I'm pretty positive that never happened and those words have never been said aloud by any human ever. Call it creative license.) Anyway, yo, R.I.P. "yo", yo!

"the whole enchilada" - Enchiladas give me the winds.

These terms are officially banned from The Missing LiNK. A cease and desist has been issued, and violators will be punished. That is all.

The Missing LiNK Classroom

Some of you may not know that TML has it's own resident genius, Dr. Linkelstein, on staff. Occasionally, Doc will chime in with important bits of braininess and tidbits of wonderment.

Today's Lesson: Punctuation and Syntax

Dr. L: Der English langvidge ees very tricky. Punctuation in da written vord and inflection in da spoken vord can make all da diffrenz in da vorld. Here are two examples.

Example 1
RICHARD: I'm in the mood for chicken wings, how about you?
JAMES: I could really go for some, Dick.

Example 2
PHILLIP: These marbles smell funny. Do you put them up your bum?
ALEX: Phil! Up my ass? Please!

Dr. L: Ess you ken see, da little tings matter da most! See you next time, kids.

The "cop out" post.

I know I need to post more often, and right now I have some ideas but nothing ready to go. So, in the meantime, here is something to keep you smiling.

When the 5-year olds try to take over, you'll be gald I shared this.

17

(click to find out how many you could take out.)

The extremely bushy Garden State

According to the free daily newspaper, 'metro', New Jersey is considering "banning genital-area waxing after two women complained that botched Brazilians gave them serious infections." I suggest that in true NJ style, they simply grow them out really, really long and then poof them straight up with tons of hairspray. Introducing "The Beaver Bouffant". (Screaming out off-key lyrics to "Livin' On A Prayer" is optional.)

Hail to the King

It's March Madness time, but this year I have surprisingly little interest in the Big Dance, so I created some new brackets of my own. I've often wondered (not really, but play along for purposes of this post) what would happen if the various "Kings" from the worlds of mainstream and pop culture battled it out for true supremacy. Who would be the last one standing...the one true king...the King of Kings.

I started by picking a pool of the 8 most deserving competitors. Just missing the cut were Larry King (banned for performance enhancers), King Kong (he's died the same way at least 3 times..stupid monkey) and former New York Knick Bernard King (tube socks worn to the knee disturb me). So let's take a look at who did make the bracket...

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In round one, the top seed Dr. Martin Luther King faces off against eighth seeded wrestling personality Jerry "The King" Lawler. Lawler put up a tough fight, as you'd expect from a rassler, but he tried to sucker punch Dr. King the same way he sucker punched Andy Kaufman years ago. Having seen "Man on The Moon," Dr. King was ready for it, and from that point on it was your typical 1 vs. 8 blowout. And for anyone who says "but Dr. King died long before that movie came out!," maybe you should be reading a different blog. WINNER: MLK


4 vs. 5 contests are always tough to call because the sides are so evenly matched. In this case, the creative razzle-dazzle of glorified con artist Don King was locked in an intense battle with the plucky, lesbian-way-before-it-was-fashionable grace of Billy Jean King. It could have gone either way, but in the end I looked a their pictures and decided they were both so fucking scary-looking that they had to go. WINNER: NONE (both eliminated)


In the 3 vs. 6 matchup, two foes from the food and beverage arena squared off. Both are tasty, both have numerous locations with huge menus, and both can lead to ample time in the loo. In the end, it came down to who had the bigger, scarier dude with a giant expressionless head. WINNER: BK


The 2 vs. 7 game pitted the man known simply as "The King" against relative newcomer, actress/model/hottie Jamie King. Early on, young Elvis had this one well in hand. Then old Elvis arrived, put on a powder blue jumpsuit, took half a bottle of pills, forgot the lyrics to "Suspicious Minds," and died on the toilet eating a sandwich. In our only true upset of the first round, the bimbo prevails! WINNER: JAMIE KING

So our final four is all set, except that the earlier double-elimination really makes it a final three. Which is okay, because it helps the publishers of The Missing LiNK avoid an ugly legal battle over the unlicensed use of the term "Final Four," for which the NCAA waterboards people. Anyway, that means Martin Luther King automatically advances to the final to face the winner of Burger King vs, Jamie King.


Appropriately, the hot blond is the Cinderella of this year's bracket. As her picture indicates, Jamie has rarely if ever eaten at Burger King, and her unfamiliarity with her opponent costs her. She tries to impress him by saying she was in a movie with Hollywood Fairy Tale Comeback Kid Mickey Rourke, but the fast food giant reminds her that she co-starred with the old, wannabe-boxer semi-retarded Mickey Rourke, and even Don Johnson can claim that. Bye-bye, blondie. WINNER: BK

The finals are set. Dr. Martin Luther King vs. Burger King for all the marbles.

Once Elvis was bounced, it was a virtual certainty that these two titans would lock up in the finals. Both have obvious name recognition, a loyal following and a rich, storied history. The early Vegas money was heavily on Dr. King, but the pressure of being the favorite may have gotten to the right reverend. Martin Luther King made a career out of speaking for the little guy. Being the voice of the minority. But now, in the role of favorite, he's out of his element. Meanwhile, Burger King spent many years playing second fiddle to MacDonald's, so this contest is right in his wheelhouse. Burger King was dishing out steady punishment, so Dr. King pulled out his secret weapon. "I had a dream," said Dr. King, and everyone rose, anticipating that he was about to rally back and crush BK. But Dr. King took a long look at BK and finished his sentence..."I had a dream. I had a dream that I was being chased by a scary plastic monarch with a giant creepy plastic head. I had a dream he gave me a burger and it made me crap for 3 hours. A really bad, sloppy, painful shit. It hurt my ass, it hurt my, great God almighty it hurt my ass." And with that, Dr. King yielded to Burger King, and the tournament was over. WINNER AND CHAMPION: BURGER KING!



Congratulations to Burger King and all of the 2009 competitors. Come back next year for another dumb fucking bracket, courtesy of The Missing LiNK.

The Missing LiNK 50th Post Celebration!!! (and it's about pee!)

In life, there are ideas, bad ideas and epically bad ideas. Which do you think this is?

An Open Letter to AMC

Dear American Movie Classics,

Please carefully review Webster's Dictionary for the proper definition of the word "classic."

Sincerely,
The American Viewing Public

Wheel of Reviews: Advertising - Bowlmor Lanes

Okay, I know Bowlmor isn't exactly a national brand with a huge ad buy. For the most part, they just do cheeky little campaigns on NY subways and buses, but that's still no excuse for poor execution.


Basically, a cute girl with a flirtatious nickname is used to say "cool people with a free spirit bowl at Bowlmor." Also, in a subtle subtext, the name "Gutter Girl" suggests to lonely guys the prospect of a handy in the men's room.

Fair enough. I've been to Bowlmor, and I know the entire lure of the place is the trendy scene and fascinatingly overpriced booze. But at heart it's still a bowling alley. As such, one would hope that of all things they might fuck up in their ads, it wouldn't be HOW TO KEEP SCORE AT BOWLING.

Well, one would hope, but one would be terribly disappointed. I submit a closer look at the ad...


WTF? Did she actually knock down 12 pins in one frame? Either she's got mad skills or the person keeping score is borderline retarded. And if Gutter Girl is retarded, it certainly makes that hook-up in the john way creepier. Ew.

To continue...


Okay, so now I'm led to believe that 7 + 9 = 9. This one is a little more forgivable because the person is simply writing the score of that frame rather than the total. Forgivable for most, but not in an ad FOR A BOWLING ALLEY! Then again, if you're idea of an appealingly quirky nickname is "Bowling Stone," you're a crap weasel anyway. Unless of course, you're NBC journalist Stone Phillips, in which case, cool play on words.


So, if you remember nothing else from this post, allow me to sum up. Stone Phillips gets hand jobs from retards in the crapper.

Sublime Nonsense

It's the return of Mr. Douche Bag, Esq.

Happy Friday.


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Wheel of Reviews: Advertising - Honda

This might not be the most recent ad, so some people may have seen this before, but I just heard about it today. Everything you see was done with practical photography. No special riggings or digital effects were used. The recording cost 6 million dollars and it took 3 months to finish, including the engineering design of the sequence.

I will never complain about a slow or complicated production schedule ever again.

Wheel of Reviews: Movies - Watchmen

Being a geek, I decided to see Watchmen on opening night. I used to be a Geek (note the capital "G"). Back in those days I would have seen the movie on 12:01am late Thursday night/Friday morning. As it turns out I love sleep just a bit more than genre movies, so Friday night won out.

As I was thinking about this review, I couldn't think of a way to concisely review a 2-hour 45-minute movie filled with A TON of stuff. Plus, I don't want to reveal too many spoilers. The only way I could think to do it easily is a simple list of Pros and Cons. So here we go.


> Rorschach was spot on. (Get it..."spot on"...it's a damn fine pun, aint it?)
> Solid action sequences.
> Kept the adult themes in place.
> Visually stunning in most places.
> Had about the right amount of laughs mixed in.
> Wasn't too overly "Snyder-ized."
> Malin Ackerman's nakedness.
> Night Owl's costume and gear were pretty badass.
> Faithfulness to 90% of the graphic novel.


> Some of the action got gory and violent without needing it.
> Too much giant blue radioactive penis.
> Some of the visuals tried a bit too hard to be comic-booky (see Nixon, Richard).
> The soundtrack had cool classic rock songs but they seemed out of place.
> Dr. Manhattan just felt a bit too CG in too many scenes.
> Malin Ackerman's acting.
> Night Owl's acting.
> Some of the relationships and interactions seemed forced or lacked emotional believability.


So, the way I see it, the movie was an overwhelming win. Most of my pros were things I was worried about beforehand that wound up turning out well. And almost all of my cons are nitpicks and things that missed the mark, but not by much.

Missing LiNK Wheel of Review final verdict:
On a scale of 1 to 5, we give Watchmen 4 ink blots.


(Chop off half a blot if you're a stickler for fine cinema and details.)

If the question is "Who watches the Watchmen?" the answer should be you, and soon.

Happy Hoboken St. Patty's!

So, this past Saturday was Hoboken St. Patrick's Day. As many Missing LiNK readers know, the town of Hoboken, NJ celebrates St. Patty's Day on the Saturday a week or two before the actual holiday. By and large, Hoboken St. Pat's consists of an inordinate number of 20- and 30-somethings dressed in green crammed into trains so they be crammed into bars, only later to be crammed into local apartments and eventually crammed back onto trains. And all of this starts around 8AM and involves copious amounts of alcohol.

It's been a few years since I've been part of HSP, mostly because the commute takes about two and a half hours each way. But this year I ventured out to celebrate with friends at a house party. Ah, the wonders I have been missing. Alcohol + parties - restraint = entertainment! Here is a brief recap.

3:00pm: Leave my apartment and head for the Long Island Railroad into NYC.

3:15pm: Best slice of Buffalo chicken pizza ever.

3:30pm: Train leaves Long Beach.

4:30pm: Train arrives in Penn Station.

4:45pm: Get on PATH train. Not sure if it's the right train, but the 50 people wearing green shirts that say some form of "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" gives me confidence. (The two best versions were "I'm Not Irish. Kiss Me Anyway" and "Kiss Me, I'm Shitfaced.")

5:10pm: Arrive in Hoboken. The air smells like beer (plus or minus a waft of puke.) Drunks are dancing in the street, even ones with cars driving on them. The debauchery has been underway all day, and I'm now dropped into ground zero.

5:15pm: Hot chick. Hot chick. There's another hot chick. Oh yeah, this is why I remember this being fun. Ooh, look, another hot chick.

5:20pm: Spot a girl wearing a very short skirt. Unfortunately, she has no business whatsoever wearing such a thing. She had legs like Jerome Bettis. I know sharing this serves no purpose, but I had to. No man should have to carry the burden of this image all by himself.

5:30pm: Arrive at house party. Spot someone I know. The fun starts. Beer me.

6:00pm: More people I know arrive. They're drunk. I'm not, but I'm on my way.

6:30pm: Joe Rockhill and I get destroyed in Beer Pong. WTF! Pissed off, I'm determined to drink more.

7:00pm: Yolked some dot. (This entry may have been changed slightly to avoid openly admitting illegal activity.)

8:00pm: Three beautiful words...Irish Car Bomb. Delish!

9:00pm: Decide it's time to leave and begin my never-ending trip home.

9:15pm: Overheard on the street:

UNHAPPY GIRL ON CELL: (unhappy) Seriously, I lost my shoes. [pause, then angrier and almost crying] Yes! I'm literally barefoot right now! [pause] I don't fucking know!

At this point, I turned around to see what one would expect...an angry girl on her phone walking through downtown Hoboken barefoot. Yet somehow I was still surprised.

9:30pm: I wait at the PATH station for the next NYC train. While waiting, I see a familiar face. No, not one of the many friends I know were there that day. Instead, I saw WWE ring announcer and Spanish-language musical artist Lillian Garcia.




Yes, she's kind of hot and yes I'm a fan of professional wrestling (fuck you, don't judge me!) Unfortunately, when she is piss-ass drunk and squeaking at her fiance, I'm much less of a fanboy.

9:40pm: I joke with Lillian and her fiance about being on the wrong train. She may be hammered, but she seems very sweet. And he's a pretty boy, but a nice guy. I guess they aren't spoiled by marginal C-lister celebrity.

10:00pm: While on the train, a quickly fading Lillian sits on the floor of the car. I hear her fiance mention another similar night where she didn't remember stopping for calamari and french fries. For her sake, I hope she doesn't make a habit of these nights. Rock-hard abs and a great singing voice will eventually fade if you're a blackout drunk. I don't think she is, but it's a cautionary tale.

10:20pm: The fucking PATH train sits at 14th Street for 15 minutes. Ugh.

10:35pm: Get to Penn Station. 15 minutes or so to my train. Phew.

10:40pm: I am quickly reminded that yolking dot makes you hungry. McNuggets rule!

10:50pm: Get on train to Long Beach.

11:45pm: Finally make it all the way back to Long Beach. Some more math...Beer + car bomb + McNuggets = trouble. A few deep breaths and I'm okay.

MIDNIGHT: I get home, I drink an entire Vitamin Water in one shot and pass out in bed. All in all, HSP was a success. Hopefully Newark Arbor Day will be just as cool.

(Editor's Note: While sending an email from the party, I discovered that my BlackBerry apparently thinks that when I type "Hoboken," I really mean "hobo ken." I wonder how many of those dolls Mattel could sell.)

I'm the Comedian. Heh heh!

Saw this online, had to share it. Coolness.

Wheel of Reviews: Television - American Idol

The following was contributed by a reader who wishes to remain anonymous, so I will refer to him as Jonathan "The Duke" Mardukis. Thanks, Duke!