To The Good Samaritan

To the good samaritan,

I apologize.  I have let you down.  You tried to help me and I boldly spat in your face.

From someone who is running out of heroes in this world, I find this most distressing.  You went out of your own way to help me.  You didn't have to.  You weren't provoked.  You simply felt it was the right thing to do.

And I agree.  It was the right thing to do and I would have done the same thing had the roles been reversed.  Unfortunately...they weren't.

I haven't revived the Studly Pastures for a couple of weeks because I have been on holiday.  Holiday is what people in other countries call vacation.  I called it Holiday because I need the funding that international hits get me, you cheap bastards.

I took a cruise to the bahamas.  Sounds regal.  Sounds elegant.  Sounds like I needed an excuse to get hammer-slammered in another country.  And so I did!

And boy did I. Well, I decided against it--but my brain synapses were all like "Hey, come on, we only get to take Holiday every six years, let's drink our weight in Captain Morgan!"  And I was like, "Okay."

And thus I lost control of all of my physical abilities (except my bowels, record still intact) and could no longer converse with the rest of society for the time being.  My friend, being my friend, recognized my state of inebriation and immediately tried to get me back to home base.  Unfortunately, her arms are not as big as her heart and I was dragged through Bohemian asphalt until, alas, the good samaritan stepped forward.

I simply know him as Jerry--from New Tampa.  I only bring that up because, Jesus, how annoying is that?  New Tampa?  What the Hell is that all about?  With that said.  This man took his own sweet precious time and dedicated it to helping my drunk ass back aboard my boat.  And I still called him out for saying he was from New Tampa.  Then I proceeded to bleed all over his shirt because I cut my hand when I fell.  I'm a dick, I'm aware.

So to you, good sir, I thank you and sincerely apologize.  But seriously, New Tampa?  Just say Tampa from now on.  It's what people know.

My battle scars?  A cool ass black eye that goes well with my strange resemblance to Edward Norton and stories to tell the grandkids.

Moving on...

The Miami Dolphins are playing the New York Jets this weekend, and okay, I was a bit off on my prediction on the Houston Texans game--but they beat the ever-loving piss out of the Raiders!  So back to the Jersey Jets, I can't foresee a reason why the Dolphins should lose to such an talent-less offense.  Who can match up on the Jets tit for tat for Reggie Bush?  Shonn Greene?  Don't make me laugh.  Tim Tebow?  Don't make me vomit.  And if I take away anything from the week prior, it's that Ryan Tannehill and Brian Hartline have established a true quarterback-receiver connection.

And once again, we reach around (hah! reach around!) that time of year when baseball pundits are counting out the Tampa Bay Rays from post-season contention.  I knew they always had a short-term memory but this is ridiculous.  How can you count out this punchy bunch of nobody's until it is mathematically impossible for them to be in the playoffs?  Did you see Game 162 last year?  I did and I still have goosebumps.

I feel bad for those of you that are true hockey fans.  Your sport continually goes out of it's way to screw you.  Hold strong, watch football.

And now that I'm back from Holiday, expect to see a lot more of me.  If there's anything I have learned about a good product, it's not to flood the market.  And if you happen to have a mediocre product then you should flood, flood, and flood away.

I went to the Dana White school of marketing.  Have a good UFC night, kids!