Archive for the ‘WOMEN’ Category

A My Space Stimulus Package Of Love

Sunday, June 1st, 2008

What does one get when they combine a Jewish person, a stimulus package, and a search for love?

Despite the obvious answer, this has nothing to do with Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. I am referring to the denotative version of a stimulus package, not a connotative one.

The answer can be found on My Space. Yes, the kids today have reminded me more than once that Facebook is the new My Space, and that “My Space is sooooooo 2007.” Nevertheless, an ad in an email blast that I receive on a monthly basis alerted me to the best social cause this side of the Mississippi (unless you are on the other side of it, whichever side that is).

Not since I placed a heartfelt personal ad in a section of Craigslist has society been so moved.

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/03/my-craigslist-personal-ad-when-eroticism-meets-laziness/

http://viewmorepics.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewAlbums&friendID=366375558

ROMANTIC STIMULUS PAYMENT

Humorous but true! My talented, creative friend Dave Kessler (above) is offering to give over his $600 economic Stimulus payment to anyone who fixes him up w/a woman who becomes his girlfriend OR…if you become his girlfriend, he will lovingly lavish the $600 on you!

 

http://www.romanticstimulus.com

 

http://www.myspace.com/girlfriendbounty

I have never met Mr. Kessler, but I did email him, requesting permission to tell his story. That permission was granted.

Mr. Kessler also wants everybody to know that if a woman with $600 becomes the girlfriend, he will donate the money to the charity of her choice. If that Charity has anything to do with shoes or “Sex in the City,” the agreement is null and void. It must be a real charity.

I would add more, but there is simply nothing I could possible add to this. President Bush said that he wanted to be a uniter and not a divider, and this is his chance to further unite a happy couple while increasing the velocity of money into the money supply.

I am more private than this guy. Even if the Chicago Cannonball does get to play with my GDP Deflator, that is our private business. I have no idea what I just said, but it sounded provocative, and therefore it is.

I love capitalism. As boxing promoter Don King often says, “Only in America.”

Good luck Mr. Kessler. Good luck with your stimulus package. Mine comes out to $50 per inch, but this is about you.

Everybody from Alan Greenspan to Dirk Diggler is rooting for you.

eric

Because I am not Eliot Spitzer

Friday, March 14th, 2008

I am not Eliot Spitzer. For this alone, I should be liked, but there are thankfully other reasons.

For those who fear that I am turning into Greta Van Susteren, meaning an intelligent person that beats topics that nobody cares about into the ground, fear not. This blog is not going to be “All Eliot, all the time.” If I did that, he would win.

Yet recent events directly related to the Tygrrrr Express have made the story more relevant.

The traveling carnival that is my existence made its way to Las Vegas for a political conference, followed by a trip to Chicago that was as unexpected as it was pleasant. Despite the fact that I detest cold weather, it turned out to be one of the best trips I have ever had. I met the Chicago Cannonball, and we are both very happy.

I left Chicago on the 9th to go back to LA, and three days later (yesterday) made my way to Hotlanta. I was supposed to then either veer off to Miami, and frolic on spring break in South Beach, or head Westbound and Down to Alabama to hang out with my buddy on the Auburn campus. Either way, barely legal women in bikinis awaited.

Because things are going well with the Chicago Cannonball, I would not be be able to treat any of these young hot women like ice cream. Yet looking is still legal.

Due to circumstances that are bizarre even based on my low standards of normalcy, I am not going to either of those cities. The ticket to South Florida was insanely expensive. Then again, my most recent ex is 22, and she will be down there for Spring Break, so perhaps this is for the best. Yes, South Florida is big, but most likely she is on one specific street, since it was where I recommended she go when we were dating, and everybody listens to me when it comes to socializing.

The backup plan was Bama, hanging with my fellow Tigers at Auburn. Today my backup plan got blown up like Fallujah. My friend that I was supposed to be staying with has disappeared. His cell phone is not working, and I cannot reach him. Most likely he went with his friends on break and forgot about me. He is a good guy, but sometimes he suffers from a medical condition that requires “cranial-glutial extraction surgery.” I am sure he will feel awful when he remembers, but I will let him off the hook after a couple snide remarks.

So the Tygrrrr Express was about to be possibly homeless. I doubt it would have come to that. I would have asked a local Rabbi for a place to sleep for the night, and I am sure they would have said yes. Of course, I would then be asked to attend the Saturday morning prayer service, which conflicts with sleeping until noon. There is no way I would dare stay at a Rabbi’s home and not attend the service. I may be lazy, but am not ill mannered.

After sitting down and analyzing the situation (ok, I might have been sobbing like a four year old girl, but if it is not on You-Tube, it never happened), I took a couple breaths and tried to figure out what was important.

Why did I care so much about going to Miami? Because I always go to Miami in March. There are usually 96 reasons I go, which if I am correct in my calculations is the result of adding 36 + 24 + 36. Yet since I am seeing the Chicago Cannonball, the entire trip is pointless. Not to invalidate people who brought me into the world, but those two people know d@mn well I wait for them to go to sleep after “Matlock’,” or “Murder, She wrote,” and then hang out in South Beach.

As for Alabama, I like my friend despite this lapse in his sanity, but again, this trip was about being around hot women. Why? Because I am male and have a pulse.

I am not somebody that window shops. I do not browse. I do not walk into a store unless I am a buyer. I do not go near a jar of candy and just stare at it, be it after dinner mints or eye candy. I take it with me, be it either in my pocket or over my shoulder.

Yet instead of feeling sadness, life is good. The Chicago Cannonball and I are getting along great. At the risk of having growth pangs, there is a realization here that is important.

Dating is not the ends for me. It is the means. I have always been about being with one person, with short term gratification being what Monte Hall would describe as the consolation prize behind “door # 2.” So if the goal is meet somebody, and I have, wouldn’t an ounce of sense tell me that if I have to be stranded, I might as well be with somebody lovely?

I just thank God that every twice in awhile he gives me just enough common sense to make an intelligent decision when it matters most. How many men have money, power, lovely families…and throw it all away because they are in the wrong city at the wrong time with the wrong woman, when the best of everything is in front of their selfish faces the entire time?

Hugh Grant cheated on Elizabeth Hurley with a black hooker. Folks, if a guy cannot be happy with Elizabeth Hurley, he will never be happy. Bill Clinton nearly got fired because he could not keep his pants zipped. Eliot Spitzer went from a shot at the White House to the newest husband in the Dog in Heat House. I have seen his wife. Even after three kids, she is a hot piece of New York Skirt Steak.

Some would look at me and say, “talk to me when you have been married 20 years.” That is not the answer. I do not have the answer, but I suspect it has to do with the notion that we can either satiate those we love, or satiate ourselves. Imagine if Eliot Spitzer had taken his 80,000 dollars that he spent on a woman whose real name he did not even know, and instead bought his wife an $80,000 piece of jewelry. Perhaps she would have done those things that a mother of three never talks about in public.

It is not about “being bought.” Unlike the Kobe Bryant situation, you have to buy the gift before you screw up. That way it is a heartfelt gesture, and not a business contract. I am sure it is not easy for a man married a couple decades ith children, but even those men should look at their wives and say, “Forget my bad back and your vericose veins (or something more tactful). The kids are somewhere else, and we are going to act like we did back then. Now put down the laundry and help me find the cattle prod (ok, I went too far, but the point is valid).

For some men, as I said, dating a string of women is the end. That type of life is just not for me. A real man gravitates towards those who matter most on a long term basis.

The song by the Proclaimers states that, “I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walked that 1000 miles and showed up at your door.” Ok, so I am not that gallant. I will be taking a plane and then a taxicab. Yet as much as cold weather scares the daylights out of me, and as much as Chicago might be the worst Spring Break city in America, I suspect I am making the right decision. Besides, the Chicago Cannonball agrees with me, which does help.

So out of nowhere, I am headed back to Sweet Home Chicago today.

I do not have Eliot Spitzer’s money, or his power. However, I am much handsomer than him. Even unkempt, my hair is quite good. I also have something that he may never have again, due to his own travels in the wrong areas…a happy love life that matters.

Because I am not, nor do I ever want to be Eliot Spitzer, Miami and Bama will have to wait, perhaps forever. No, I did not immediately make the right decision. I had a lot of help, perhaps divine intervention. Yet given every chance to make the right decision, I actually did.

I am off to give the Chicago Cannonball the ketchup bottle treatment.

It will not cost me a fortune, and yet the effect is priceless.

eric

Entering Victoria’s Secret

Saturday, March 8th, 2008

I am not a brave man. I freely admit that I am a girly sissy pansy boy.

It is snowing in Chicago, and I am deathly afraid the fat white oversized wet things are going to find me, give me influenza, and kill me. While the Chicago Cannonball is frolicking around in a pajama top, making this city very bearable, I can only say that I am glad I did not have to embarrass myself to buy that silver piece of cloth.

Those silk pajamas were bought in Thailand. That was not scary. I went into a normal store and bought them. I do not speak Thai, but it was a regular transaction. I did not have to go into the place that turns this Tygrrrr into a lamb. I did not have to venture into Victoria’s Secret.

Yes, this republican becomes very ultra conservative when the topic is women’s underwear. I do not mind biting them off of a woman with my teeth, but don’t make me buy them. I am just not into the details and nuances required to buy the stuff. Why can’t women be like men and just go into a grocery store and buy Hanes? I mean they fit fine, and Inspector 12 made sure they were quality.

I had to go into Victoria’s Secret in 1990. A girl I liked worked there in the mall. Would it have killed her to have worked in the food court instead? Then we could have gotten free pizza or something. No, I had to pick her up in Victoria’s Secret. I took a female friend with me to the mall for moral support.

When my friend could not understand why I was so intimidated by that place, I told her that men should not go in there. She pointed out that lots of men go in there, but my response, which I maintain to this very day is that “Men who are in Victoria’s Secret are way too happy to be in there.”

Instead of going in to get my date, I sent my friend in. I knew that would be manly. One reason the date liked me when we met was because I came across as a tough guy. My plan failed when my friend came back out and said, “Eric, she is gorgeous, you have to go in there and get her.” When I asked why my friend did not simply bring her out, I was told that I was to go in.

With much trepidation, I entered the store, looking all around to see who was looking at me. A saleswoman was looking at me and ready to approach me. I was scared to death, wondering why any saleswoman would talk to me in that store. Couldn’t she look at me and have her female ESP tell her that I was not a customer? The woman asked me, “May I help you?” I replied, “No!” and then ran out of the store.

I then told my friend we were going home. So yes, I pased up a chance to meet a gorgeous girl because it is better to be seen as a (insert bad word women use for guys who act like whateve that word is) than a women’s underwear pervert.

While I vowed to never go in again, my Hebrew faith led me back into the store. For those wondering what Judaism has to do with lady’s underwear, the answer is simple. 18 is a lucky number in Jewish culture. My dear friend “Sir Sleep A Lot” was visiting from Israel. He needed to buy something sexy for his fiancee. Given that 2008 was 18 years after my last visit, I had to go in.

The worst part was listening to the salespeople ask him exactly what the contours of his fiancee were. Apparently there are different types pf underwear for different women. I refused to listen to the presentation, scared that somebody from the republican party would enter the place and compare me to Larry Craig or something. Then again, if they are republicans, what are they doing in Victoria’s Secret anyway?

Sir Sleep A Alot could not figure out a way to explain to the salespeople that his girlfriend would make Sir Mix A Lot’s girlfriend proud. For those that are not up on rap music from 15 years ago, the song was “Baby Got Back.”

Luckily I had a 21st century reference. I told my friend to tell the saleswoman that his fiancee had a “badonkadonk.” He had trouble saying the word, but the saleswoman understood and smiled. I am glad I did not have to bring up my unhealthy fascination with Monique from Showtime at the Apollo to explain it further.

While some men may find it erotic to have a well endowed saleswoman discussing the romantic possibilities of edible underthings, I just kept staring at my watch and wondering how long it can take to throw something in a box and buy it. As I said, I do not mind the end results at home, but I don’t want to go throug the process of purchasing them. If the lord wanted me to get erotic lingerie in front of the world he would not have created the internet with help from Al Gore. Besides, given what a pantywaist Gore is, I am sure he is an expert about Victoria’s Secret. Tipper did say he was a great lover. He is stiff after all.

The saleswoman saw my discomfort, and finally asked me why I felt that way. I stated that “I am sure most of the men who come in here are perverts, and I prefer not to be lumped in that category.” She laughed, but I continued.

“Be honest, how many guys try to buy the mannequins?” Sir Sleep A Lot was mortified at the thought, gentleman that he is, but my suspicions were confirmed. Men do offer to buy the Mannequins. Some men only want the appendages! I was in a store where guys try to traffic in fake human body parts! Are you kidding me?

I just am too incredibly, dare I say it, normal. My answer to everything is “Strawberry.” When I worked at a gift store in 1994, I was in charge of coffee mugs. If you wanted to know about mugs, I was your mug man. The store sold cute “Hello Kitty Stuff,” greeting cards, and other seasonal merchandise. Yet they had a small erotica section, and when a girl asked me which flavor of edible underthings was best, I went back to ask the manager. She told me in those situations to just recommend strawberry and move on to the next customer.

I am the son of retired schoolteachers for crying out loud. I am not descendant from people who buy mannequins, blow up dolls, or underwear that talks back in a sexy voice. I have no idea if that exists, but some sick twisted individual will invent if they have not already.

Maybe I should be more sympathetic towards Bill Clinton. I will wave my finger at America and say that I had no knowledge of any aforementioned panties, not one time, never. I have not once ever wondered what underclothing Hillary Clinton or Bea Arthur wear, and you should all be disgusted for bringing it up.

As for the Chicago Cannonball, at least she is using her laptop for something productive while I release my anxieities to the blogosphere. I could make another remark about her “laptop,” but I am not that sophomoric. She does have much nicer underclothing than me, but if asked to testify before Congress, she bought it without my help.

The snow is coming down hard, and I do not see myself leaving the bedroom. I pray that the Chicago Cannonball does not turn into one of those women that sends a guy out into the cold and snow to shop for feminine hygiene products. Being emasculated once every 18 years is enough for this nice Jewish boy from a good family.

Is it 2026 yet?

eric

From the Iron Man to the Dragon Lady

Wednesday, March 5th, 2008

Today is blasphemy Wednesday.

Before getting to the disaster that was Taco Tuesday, it is inspiring to think about perfection.

Like many, I constantly strive and fail to reach perfection. As a kid, even though I hated school, I was always afraid that the one day I missed, good things would happen. I never got the perfect attendance award. Several years I missed one day. My parents knew I was not one to play hooky, and they insisted on keeping me home when I was ill. I just couldn’t get through without missing that one day.

I have been with my current firm for over three years. For three years I did not miss a day of work. I took my vacations, but did not call in sick. I remember James Caan in “The Program” asking one of his football players, “Are you injured or are you hurt?” When the player wanted to know the difference, the coach replied, “If you’re injured, you can’t play. If you’re hurt, you can play.”

I have been hurt, but not injured. So I went to work. I would get bored out of my mind at home, given how much I hate daytime television. So I go to the office and tough it out. Yet a few weeks ago I was down for the count. It was a Thursday, and I knew that if I could hit the showers by 8:30am, like I always do, being in at 9am was easy. At 8:22am I was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, unable to stand up. The shower was right there. 11 minutes later, at 8:33am, I gave it one final push. I could not get up. At 8:35am I called the boss. He was surprised, but I told him, “I’m injured.”

By the early afternoon I felt well enough to come into work. I could work a half day, and make up the hours, and keep my streak intact. Yet logic took over, and I decided to stay home. The next day I started a new streak.

Three hours seems impressive, but 17 years without missing work is more impressive. This is why the flags are flying half staff today at Green Bay, Wisconsin. Quarterback legend Brett Favre announced his retirement after 17 NFL seasons. The iron man of professional football did not miss a single game. From the third week of the 1992 season to the crushing overtime loss in this year’s NFC Title Game, Brett Favre had 100% perfect attendance. He was the Cal Ripken of football.

Many are questioning why he would retire when his team was so close to the Superbowl last year. Some are speculating that the inability to land Randy Moss played a role. Yet his reasons are his own.

Steve at www.norunnyeggs.com is most likely in mourning today. Pray for him.

Perfect attendance is impressive, but the one thing to keep in mind is that showing up is not enough. Had I gone to work the day I was sick I would have slept at my desk, contributing not an ounce of productivity. I would have been cheating myself. Perfection should not have an asterisk next to it.

Brett Favre battled a painkiller addiction early in his career, but he never cheated the game of football. He went all out, all the time. He won a Superbowl, and was one drive away from possible back to back titles. His fourth quarter comebacks are numerous. He has shattered the record books, leaving as the all time passing leader in several categories. His record of accomplishments is as lengthy as his 17 years, and he is a lock to be a first ballot Hall of Famer.

I think about this because it seems that in politics, unlike sports, merit does not seem to matter. People make claims, and those claims are just accepted. People do not have to prove themselves. They do not have to take responsibility for their own actions. Congress works Tuesday through Thursday, and praises itself for hard work. Resume padding is the norm.

This is how Hillary Clinton, a woman with no notable accomplishments, can brag about her 35 years of experience. She is now 60 years old. That means that when she graduated law school at age 25, her experience began. Does anybody think that those years contributed anything to her readiness today?

She cites several examples of her experience. One is how she fought for universal health care. So what? She lost. She failed. This does not make her a bad person, but we do not reward people in life for trying. We reward people for results. Hillary Clinton attempted to do something, and she failed. This is not an accomplishment.

She also discusses her role in bringing peace to Northern Ireland. She had nothing to do with the Irish peace process. It was George Mitchell, a seasoned Senatorial veteran with years of experience involving negotiations, who got the job done.

Hillary speaks of her standing up to the Chinese with regards to the rights of women. Again, so what? This did not lead to a policy change of any kind. She made  aspeech. She has continually attacked Barack Obama for being more about speeches than solutions, but all she did was make a speech. It was ignored. To put it blountly, she is not a good speaker. She does not inspire.

Her visiting 80 countries with Chelsea means absolutely nothing. I have visited foreign nations and managed not to get into any fistfights. This does not mean I am a diplomat. I am a tourist. Hillary Clinton was a famous tourist. She was a celebrity who was married to somebody that was a President.

One of the reasons she was sent to all of these places was to get her out of the United States, especially during election years. The more people hear her, the less they like her.

Hillary Clinton is simply a bland person who married a gifted person. She confuses his gifts with hers. She claims experience that she does not possess. She takes credit for accomplishes that have nothing to do with her. She takes blame for nothing. Worse still, she is here to stay. She will not voluntarily go away…ever.

I have often said that it is better to have people ask “why are you leaving,” than “when are you leaving?” Very few people get to walk away on their own terms. They hang around until they are shells of their former selves. Former Denver Broncos quarterback John Elway won back to back Superbowls, and then retired. He wanted to play, but admitted that his body, “just couldn’t do it any more.” Other athletes like boxer Evander Holyfield retire several times.

I still think that Brett Favre will change his mind and come back. After everything he has done, he is entitled to do so.

Hillary Clinton will leave when she is dragged kicking and screaming from the building. Worse still, despite much of the American electorate wanting her to leave, she will not put the good of anybody else above what is best for her. People need her because she says so.

Yes, she won Ohio. She also won Texas, at least the primary aspect of it. Yes, these are legitimate victories, but should that erase the fact that she lost 11 contest in a row? Barack Obama was racking up wins, while she was offering excuses. She is ready to tear the democratic party apart to get the nomination. This is not what team players do. Ask any backup quarterback how to behave, and they tell you that they practice hard, and patiently wait their turn, and accept the decision of the coaches. They put the team above themselves.

Hillary Clinton is a fire breathing dragon, Lady MacBeth minus the warmth. Like most dragons, breathing fire to destroy the Earth is another day at the office for her.

The Iron Man has taught us what life is about, and how to live. The Fire Lady has taught us how not to live. He walked away, possibly before his time, on his own terms. She will stay until the very last vestige of power has been ripped from her body and soul.

Short of repealing the 19th amendment, I have no answers.

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2008/01/repeal-the-19th-amendment/

Charlotte Allen explains in the Washington Post that perhaps women are just not very bright.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02/29/AR2008022903397.html

I am too disgusted to add anything else regarding Texmex Tuesday. For the Milli Vanillionth time, Hillary and Bill Clinton have morphed into Bill Murray from “What about Bob.” “Gone? They’re never gone!”

Before we roll out the barrel and get to the Pennsylvania Polka, the Wyoming caucus and Mississippi primary will hopefully finally help remove this cancerous lesion from the Presidential race.

Yet this woman, married to Lazarus, will not be counted out. I remain frightful. She can still win.

Yet no matter what, the republic will survive. So will I.

Besides, Las Vegas was fun, the Chicago hotel tower suite is gorgeous, and so is the “Chicago Cannonball.”

I am not allowed to elaborate at this time. Well I am, but I might get throttled.

Off to listen to rock group “The Cult” sing “Fire Woman.”

“Fire…smoke she is a rising…smoke on the horizon baby…Fire Woman.”

Perhaps the only thing that should be retired is today’s column.

There. Done.

eric         

No More Twinkies!

Sunday, February 24th, 2008

I have stated on many occasions that my life is a traveling carnival of adventure. Sure there are the occasional mishaps, and I am still thankful to a member of the Glendale, Arizona Police Department for helping me not end up dead on the streets of Phoenix. Yet even that danger did not offset the real memory, that of witnessing one of the greatest Superbowls of all time. A half of a century from now, I will tell my future grandchildren, “I was there.” Heck, in 50 years I will probably tell people that I was on the field playing.

The Tygrrrr Express was relatively calm for the rest of February, but March and April are already shaping up to be ridiculous. I will be bouncing around America like a ping pong ball. As I say to people, “as the carnival travels.”

In March I have a political function in Las Vegas, where former Australian Prime Minister will be. I hope to meet him. After that I am off to Atlanta on a business trip, where I will then face a potentially life altering decision. I will either go to Miami and frolic during Spring Break, or go to Alabama. Either way, I come back to Los Angeles long enough to breathe, before attending a wedding in San Diego.

April will be just as insane. I have another political function, this time in San Francisco. Apparently Western Civilization is collapsing, because I will actually be one of the speakers. After that is a business trip to Chicago, followed by a New York business trip to Wall Street, which will allow me to see family, and attend the NFL Draft.

Yet even burning the candle at both ends will not wear me out if I manage to finally break away from what really distracts me from personal growth…twinkies.

I must give up twinkies. I do not care how hot they are. If a woman is too young for me, I will ignore every wriggle, wiggle, bounce and jiggle. It is time to get serious. No more twinkies.

At age 24, I was lusting after a 19 year old brunette. I realized that I liked 19 year old brunettes, and continued to date them as I turned 25 and 26. They were never 18 or 20, just 19. At age 27, I was still dating 19 year old brunettes. I was partying like it was 1999, although that could have been because it actually was 1999.

I made a decision that I could not live like this forever. The Millennium was approaching, and I would turn 28 only 8 days later. I developed a plan called “Maturity 2000.” I would stop dating twinkies. No more 19 year old brunettes. I would now date 20 year old brunettes. Baby steps away from babies. At age 29 I was dating a 23 year old. This was progress. True, her best assets were above her waist, but I always rationalized that any woman with a hot body had to be intelligent. I was a smart guy of substance, so I would not be so shallow as to romance somebody just because they had yummy bouncies.

Yet when the guys would discuss Middle Eastern politics, she would want to talk about Britney Spears’s Pepsi commercial. The handwriting was on the wall. I was dating a woman I could not have intelligent conversations with solely because she bounced and jiggled.

I broke off the relationship, turned 30, and met a nice girl at a party for graduate students. I was a grad student, and I figured her to be 24 or 26. I cannot explain why I did not think she was 25. One day she confessed to me that my assumptions about her age were off base. Even though she was intelligent, she was…magic number…19. Breaking it off on the spot would have been cruel, and I did like her company. In fact, I think she did my homework once.

It was a computer project, and I am technologically incompetent. The project was incomplete when I went to bed, and when I woke up I saw a message from the professor thanking me for emailing him the completed assignment, which was perfect. She insisted that she did not do it, and my roommate, also a computer expert, insisted he did not do it either. I could have walked in my sleep and done it, but to this day I have no idea how the project got done.

Nevertheless, we broke up at some point on very friendly terms. A 30 year old man should not be dating a 19 year old. My next girlfriend was more in my age range. She was 20, and she had yummy bouncies as well. The fact that we had nothing in common forced me to again evaluate my life. Maturity 2000 did not get implemented, but I had turned 30 myself. Round numbers for some reason inspire people to arbitrarily do things. I then unveiled my upgraded model of life, known as “Maturity 2002.”

Implementation proved rocky, but I thought I had finally reached adulthood when in 2005 I was dating an older woman. She was 9 years my senior. I thought my family would be thrilled. Instead, my dad referred to her as Mary Kay Latorneau.

I made a decision that I needed to stick within my age range. I also decided that 10 years my junior would be an absolute cutoff The numbers could be 11 apart if it was less than 10 1/2 total. 2008 was the year I was officially over 35. I was much closer to 40 than 30. I began dating a smart woman looking to become a criminal prosecutor. She was intelligent, sweet, beautiful…and 22.

14 years. I was truly on the verge of becoming a letch. I did not want to be one of those 50 year old guys dating women half my age, driving an expensive car to overcompensate, one of those guys with no hair on top and a pony tail, and a pretentious fake British accent to round out the stereotype.

Things hit home when we went to a party. At 2am I was tired. I wanted to go home. She would have partied all night. I need a nap during the day to be able to effectively celebrate the “other 9 to 5.” I think after that night she saw me as a senior citizen. We broke up. It may not have been the age difference, but that did not help.

I am single as of a few days ago, and while I did not officially launch “Maturity 2008,” I hope that version does not have bugs in the software.

A big test for me will be my trip to Hotlanta. I am one of those guys that gets totally dopey around Scarlett Ohara type Southern Belles, especially the brunettes. After Atlanta, the key decision of Alabama versus Florida will set in. The fate of my maturation may hang in the balance.

South Florida allows me to visit my parents, and after they go to sleep, hang out in South Beach. In Miami the clubs are open until 5am. It is 75 degrees at midnight, and the clubs are on the beach. I do love hanging from the balcony of a couple of the clubs surveying the scene. “The Clevelander” is a bar surrounding a swimming pool. Hot Miami nights appeal to me. Spring Break is approaching, and I am still barely young enough to date grad students.

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/03/miami-will-smith-is-100-right/

Yet there is more to life than twinkies. I would like to become a husband and father, and some of the loveliest yummy bouncies have not led to anything of substance.

I vow to avoid playing bedroom volleyball with any young coed from now on, no matter how spectacular their God given gifts are. I will ignore them from front to back.

Perhaps to avoid Temptation Island Miami altogether would be wise. My friend in Alabama lives on the Auburn campus. Auburn fans are the Tigers. It is a sign. I have been to Princeton, New Jersey, and Clemson, South Carolina. I do like meeting my fellow Tigers.

It is a sign. Miami is crack. I should go Westbound and Down, and take the Tygrrrr Express to Alabama instead.

Besides, Auburn is a college campus with grad students. There is no way I could get into trouble there.

Or maybe there is.

eric

Happy “Force men to spend money so your gender will leave us alone” Day

Thursday, February 14th, 2008

Happy “Force men to spend money so your gender will leave us alone” Day!

Yes, it is February 14th.

http://www.worldloveinc.us/page/page/1391009.htm

First, let’s dispense with some myths, and contrary to what an eighth grader once wrote in an essay, a myth is not a female moth.

Myth # 1) I am against Valentine’s Day because I am lonely.

Fact–I am dating a lovely woman. We are happy.

Myth # 2) Valentine’s Day is not about bleeding mens’ wallets.

Fact–The jewelry, chocolate, flower and teddy bear industries beg…and beg…and beg…to differ…inbetween bouts of begging.

Myth # 3) Women should be treated extra special on Valentine’s Day.

Fact–Every day should be Valentine’s Day. Getting it right one day per year does not permit being a screwup the other 364 days. It means guys can clean their own laundry, put it away themselves, cook their own dinner, do the dishes, and care what their woman has to say when she is pouring her heart out (with exemptions during NFL Sundays).

I am not anti-love. I am anti-stupidity. Forced romance based on artificial timetables and constraints is the height of stupidity.

Now as much as I would like to wish sweet nothings on Shannon Doherty and every republican Jewish brunette on the planet, I need to save a certain amount of goodness for the intensely kind lady that sent me some hate mail yesterday.

She read my column entitled “repeal the 19th Amendment” and got her panties in a wad.

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2008/01/repeal-the-19th-amendment/

I am just thankful she did not read about my fantasies involving Bea Arthur and Monique from Showtime at the Apollo. Then she would have really thought I had screws loose.

After all, how many people are convinced that C3PO is homosexual, most likely a Log Cabin Republican? How many stay up at night wondering if C3PO could win a fistfight with Wembley the Fraggle from Fraggle Rock?

Yep, I am a strange ducky, with apologies to web footed friends everywhere, especially since a duck might be somebody’s mother.

Now that my deadly serious credentials have been established, I bring you the rantings of a flaming feminist (redundant, I know). I would remark that this woman needs a good paddling on her badonkadonk, but that would inflame the situation (as well as the bandonkadonk itself), and lord knows I am not about inciting trouble. Below is her screed.

“Okay, I don’t know who you are or what this website is all about, but I think this was the most ignorant article I have ever read. Canceling the 19th Amendment? Are you mentally unstable or something? I know you were trying to make a point- I got that. But it was a stupid way of getting there. Not every women agrees with Hillary Clinton’s ideas and will vote for her just because we want to get the male population in this country back for all of the inequality it has put us through in history. Personally, I love Obama and I think he can bring about change. But if he wanted to cancel women’s suffrage, like you say you want to, I would call him a testosterone driven bigot who shouldn’t even be participating in politics.”

I shall now repeat her comments, interspersed with my own rapier wit.

"Okay, I don't know who you are…"

I am eric! I am thrilled we cleared that up!

"or what this website is all about…,"

Well don’t let me stop you from jumping to conclusions!

"but I think this was the most ignorant article I have ever read."

1)	What was the other article you read, not counting anything with pictures?
2)	Yeah baby! I’m # 1! Take that other alpha males!

"Canceling the 19th Amendment? Are you mentally unstable or something?"

I just might be….until the verdict comes back, I will go with “or something.”

"I know you were trying to make a point- I got that."

Well bully for you! I shall toss thee a cracker like I do with the other baby seals.

"But it was a stupid way of getting there."

Actually it was pretty d@ng funny to anybody with a sense of humor. You, most likely
being a feminist, lack this.

"Not every women agrees with Hillary Clinton's ideas and will vote for
her just because we want to get the male population in this country back for all
of the inequality it has put us through in history."

Life sucks, get a helmet, and stand in line behind every other victim group. I gave
at the office.

"Personally, I love Obama and I think he can bring about change. But if he
wanted to cancel women's suffrage, like you say you want to, I would call him
a testosterone driven bigot who shouldn't even be participating in politics."

I agree. Anybody who seriously advocated that would be uncivilized. I on the other
hand was not being serious. I do not believe we should take women and give them
the ketchup bottle treatment, no matter how lovely their badonkadonk. However, I
do believe any woman that interrupts me when I am watching football should come
down with laryngitis.

Oh, and Adam was blameless. It was all Eve’s fault…and nobody cares about the WNBA
or Lifetime Network. Ok, that covers everything.

eric  :)

P.S. Happy "Force Men to spend money so your gender will leave us alone"
Day, aka February 14th.

Ok all, I think the point has been rammed down this woman’s throat, which I cannot say is a location I would want myself to be, because I have never seen her pictures. Also, the woman I am dating would throttle me, and lord knows she is a patient one. She has to be. She is dating me.

Now to go plan a nice weekend for her, not because a holiday dictates it, but because she is sweet and unpretentious, and the less she asks for, the more I want to give her.

Happy February 14th everybody! For those celebrating, remember two things…

1) The J. Geils Band singing “Love Stinks,” is not the way to score points.

2) Feminists are people too. They have the same needs and desires as everybody else. They just need it from each other, not men.

eric

Dead Week

Sunday, January 27th, 2008

This is Dead Week, the worst week of the calendar year. There is no NFL Football this Sunday, since the Superbowl is not until next week.

I hate Dead Week. It is a reminder that while the Pro Bowl is in 2 weeks, in 3 weeks there will be no football. I will have nothing to do. Every offseason gets tougher for me. I have no other hobbies, nor do I care to develop them.

This makes my column on Sundays a practical blank piece of paper. I could take Sundays off, but until my blog is established to my satisfaction, it will be a 7 day adventure.

Some have asked me how I write a column every day, but the truth is I do have a lot of “filler,” although that filler is still helpful to some. One example is the recap I do of Presidential debates. Any monkey can transcribe, and I am happy to be that simian. Yet within a month, that well will run dry.

So what should I write about on Sundays starting 3 weeks from now? I would prefer it not be straight politics, since I do that Monday through Saturday. Here are some ideas below. I would like feedback, but may or may not listen.

1) I have written 70 songs in my lifetime. I could just post song lyrics from one song each Sunday, with the story or inspiration for the song.

2) Jdate horror stories. Jdate is a Jewish dating website, and while most of my experiences have been positive, train wrecks do make for good writing.

3) Links to other articles…a complete copout.

4) I did a radio show for 15 years where I played rock music. I could transcribe my comments from one show per week, or perhaps play the clips if I can figure out how to transfer them from cassettes and cds to internet files. The show was called “Hard as a rock.”

5) I could have people submit me articles from their blogs, and the very best article would be published on my site, with me only providing bookend comments.

6) I could provide links to You Tube videos I like, but then I would have to actually go on You Tube. I suppose I could. In the meantime, here is a hysterically funny clip somebody sent me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2triiYXSY8

I could just play a video clip of me holding a remote control and sobbing uncontrollably, knowing that no matter how furiously I change the channels, there is no football.

About 25-30 Sundays with nothing to do. I hang out with my friends or go on dates in the evenings, but during the day?

I have 3 weeks to figure this out. Otherwise, the quality of this blog is going to drop 14.2%, or 0% for those who already feel it has dropped 100% from its early promise.

Oh yeah, and the democrats had the South Carolina Primary yesterday. Wake me up when the Panthers improve.

Happy Dead Week everybody.

eric

Repeal the 19th Amendment

Thursday, January 10th, 2008

Ok, January 9th was my birthday. January 10th it’s back to business. No more warm fuzzies. Time to save America from those that wish to screw it up.

Repeal the 19th Amendment.

Yes girlfriend. I went there. Talk to the hand if you have a grievance.

Yeah, I know this could cost me some Jewish brunette frolicking, but the liberal ones don’t like me anyway and the conservatives will understand.

There is no reason for women to vote anymore. Voting is a responsibility, and the female gender, at least in New Hampshire, has proven that it has no interest in this sacred trust.

Women were supposed to be the thinking species, while men were emotional John Wayne types that went off half cocked without using their brains. No more.

Women were supposed to be liberated, and they were to embrace equality. Instead they chose vengeance.

Women were supposed to care about women’s issues. Apparently abortion was a woman’s issue until a couple days ago, when staunchly pro-choice candidates were defeated by a woman who vaccilates on the issue, as she does with every issue.

Women were to respect themselves. Instead, they chose somebody who, with help from her husband, treats women like dirt.

The worst stereotypes about women were revealed during the New Hampshire primary. What was learned in that dreadful state was that crying on cue works. Yelling about breaking into the boys club and then playing the victim card works. Substance means nothing.

I am sure elderly women are turning to their granddaughters and saying, “Honey, this proves that you can be empty inside, have no core values or beliefs, and spread venom, but if you evoke enough sympathy, you too can be President.”

I used to blame Hillary. I realize it is not just her. She has every right to be a phony, a woman who is more scripted than Jim Carrey in the “Truman Show.” Hillary’s whole life is a giant poll driven focus tested meal spun in a blander.

Yet the blame goes to the women who support her, because of why they support her. She is their sister.

The fact that she would slit their throats to get what she wants does not matter. She has the correct appendages.

Some may argue that many women simply agree with her philosophies. Her philosophies? About what?

She has been fighting for 35 years about something, she keeps reminding us. Yeah, and my Dad’s Army service, of which he told me about in some detail, qualifies me to be the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. My quarter of a century watching football qualifies me to be an NFL Head Coach. My shares of stock in various companies makes me a part owner, and therefore I should run the companies.

Yet Hillary, a woman who has succeeded at nothing more than getting her M.R.S. degree and riding her talented husband’s coattails, wants people to believe she has political accomplishments.

I am a republican, and am diametrically opposed to the policy prescriptions of John Edwards and Barack Obama. I disgree with what they stand for. Yet at least they stand for something (although barely at times).

They are both staunchly pro-choice on abortion. Yet women flock to Hillary. They are both good to their spouses, at least on the surface. There are no reports of either man verbally or physically abusing his spouse in fits of rage. Yet women support Hillary.

Hillary is not a feminist icon. She is to politics what Martina Navratilova was to tennis. Hillary charges the net, and plays the game like a man. She goes for blood, and has ruthlessly dispatched any woman that has stood in her way (In all fairness to Martina, she played by the rules, and deserved her accolades).

Sticking with tennis, Billie Jean King did not defeat Bobby Riggs by crying, or pretending to cry. She relied on her ability, and was an undisputed winner. She advanced the cause of women.

Hillary appeals to the worst in women. After all, how can women not be embarrassed by a woman married to a sexual predator who plays the role of feminist with such ease?

The answers are simple. Some women are blind. They simply know nothing about Hillary. They are apolitical, and she seems nice enough on tv (not really, but to them anyway).

Some women are willfully blind. They refuse to believe she could be that awful. She is one of them. They want her to be good on women’s issues.

Some women don’t care. They are amoral, if not immoral. Men ruled for so long, and now it is payback time.

So yes, an entire gender, at least in New Hampshire, has let a combinaton of stupidity, naievete, and vengence allow them to sell everything the feminist movement stood for and flush it down their collective pink frilly toilets.

There are plenty of women candidates who have actual records of accomplishment, many of whom I disagree with. Dianne Feinstein is wrong about virtually everything, but at least she works hard at her job. Some women may have no record of accomplishment, but at least have core beliefs, wacked out as those beliefs may be. Barbara Boxer may be insane, but at least she proudly stands behind her insanity. She does care about women (unless her cousin Bill Clinton is harassing them, or the victim is conservative).

Yet Hillary is the Paris Hilton of politics. She has nothing to say, and yet continues to speak. She demands to be seen as relevant, and enough people oblige. She cannot stay out of trouble, yet she fascinates just enough people to where she cannot be removed from page one.

Women fought for the right to be equal. If Hillary is the pinnacle of their success, then maybe men should start celebrating. On every level of life that matters, we took the women of the world and kicked their @sses. We got them to vote against their own best interests.

Men want low taxes and dead terrorists. We will support the candidate that will take his steel toe and jam it up Al Queda’s hide.

Women want…things…things that matter..and make us feel good…and warm and fuzzy…and yet they support an ice princess whose sole redeeming quality with regards to women is…(gimme a few weeks)

If this is the best women can do, than the last 80 years have been a waste. Stick them back in the kitchen where the worst damage they can do is to my dinner.

Yeah, some women are going to get angry with me. So what? I am angry that terrorists want to kill us, and they are more concerned with…whatever the heck it is they care about.

As for women who resent my words, my words won’t damage our nation. Your actions very well could. Your anger at my ranting is less threatening to society than your willingness to sacrifice principles you claim to have fought for since Eve tricked Adam and got us into this mess.

Bill Richardson happens to be Mexican. He did not run as a cross between JFK and George Lopez. Barack Obama happens to be black. He is going out of his way to appeal to white Americans, which prior black candidates failed to do.

Hillary is not a candidate who happens to be a woman. She is simply a woman candidate. She is an empty shell that is whoever you want her to be…except honest and genuine.

She did not fool me, nor did she fool most men. Unfortunately, we are only 45% of America. The remaining 55%…hang your collective bras in shame. At the rate you are going, you will be worse off than in 1900.

Since men slapping women would be seen as domestic violence, I hope the women will start slapping some sense into each other. Have some pride. Grow some dignity. Demand to be seen as human beings, not sheep.

I will not say you are “better than that.” I am not convinced.

As for Edwards and Obama, start crying immediately. Maybe women will buy it.

Otherwise, let’s take this whole experiment of women voting and throw it in the trash. It is one thing to vote for Margaret Thatcher, Angela Merkel, Golda Meir, or Benazir Bhutto. It is quite another thing to vote for a woman whose sole claim is to be a champion for women, when her entire life has shown her contempt for them. Given her contempt for men as well (and anybody who is not her actually), perhaps that is her version of equality. She can blame and condescend to both genders.

Hillary is a disaster. She is an enabler, In the exact way she let her husband behave the way he did, her supporters are doing the same for her. An entire gender in a state has enabled her.

The men running for President (republicans) want to save civilization. Hillary wants to sit and have tea with people, which is what her entire career has been. In a post 9/11 world, that doesn’t cut it.

If women cannot understand this…or do not think it is important…then stop talking…and stop voting.

Repeal the 19th Amendment, before these clueless dumb bunnies get us all killed.

Oh, and Hillary…”Iron my shirts.”

If you know how to work an iron that is. Of course you are domestic. You are not a feminist…not even close.

If any women were offended by this column, I am offended by your voting patterns. I can send you my crocodile tears in the mail, since according to female voters, that works every time.

eric

Happy Birthday to me…Oh, and New Hampshire is dead

Tuesday, January 8th, 2008

Before getting to New Hampshire…

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY! YAY ME! LONG LIVE JANUARY 9TH!

Ok, so once a year I am entitled to a little irrational exuberance.

I am now 36. 18 is a lucky number in Jewish culture, and multiples of 18 are blessed. So I am twice lucky.

I am in New York right now, and technically I am 35 in Los Angeles for 3 more hours, but I am born and raised in New York. I celebrate New Years Eve at 9pm in LA instead of midnight. So therefore, I am 36. If I were to use the birth minute, I would actually have another 18 hours, but that is too complicated, and growing older gracefully is the order of the day. Plus, I am still stunningly smart and handsome.

I am also cut off from much of civilization, given that parts of Brooklyn near Coney Island make Afghanistan seem modern. I am twice as lucky to be separated from the madness.

As awful as events in the United States have been in the last 24 hours, what is scary is how dependent all people are on the outside world. So many things have happened, and I have missed them by a country mile.

Out of nowhere, I was instructed to go to New York on business. When in New York, I stay with my 99 year old grandmother. I love her dearly, and am thrilled that she has her faculties. She has her vision and her hearing, knows who I am, and I enjoy spending time with her, knowing that most people do not have the luck of having family for that long.

I heard that the stock market dropped over 250 points yesterday, but I did not have a chance to catch the business channel. My grandmother only gets 5 or 6 channels. She has never had cable, much less satellite. She and I were watching Wheel of Fortune for a few minutes, and then switched to some movie with Barry Bostwick. His wife was cheating on him, and then she killed him…I think. I have my grandmother’s gift for falling asleep while watching television. We had group nap time. We also both woke up around the same time, around 10pm. She went back to bed, and I stayed up to blog.

I wanted to follow the New Hampshire Primary returns, but without Fox News, CNN, or even that vast wasteland MSNBC, I had to try and find local news coverage that looked better than snow on her massive 13 inch set. After watching the equivalent of Ron Burgundy in “Anchorman,” eventually the local yokels reported some actual news.

Forget the republicans. It will all be forgotten about with minutes. The news, not that I can watch it, will now be all Hillary all the time.

I am glad I missed the coverage. Rooting against Hillary is like rooting against the New England Patriots. It is pointless. I have said from the very beginning that she would win no matter what. Ed Muskie fights back tears, he is seen as a crybaby, and his campaign implodes. Hillary does the same, and women flock to her. I mean she showed a human side…let’s reward her. After all, there is no way that a cold, calculating, scripted woman could have coldly calculated such a scripted heartwarming moment.

Are women that stupid that they will fall for such a ploy? Of course they are. Ask any woman that forgives a cheating husband. Anybody that says women are smarter than men need to have their heads removed from their hides and examined.

Women have book smarts. Men have street smarts. Unfortunately, women make up 55% of America, so a person with no personality, a tin ear, and a few placed crocodile tears can bamboozle just enough people.

Men are not fooled by Hillary. It doesn’t matter. When Hillary cried, you would think that she was Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott, rather than an enabler who has done more to hurt women as she and her husband have stepped over them to get to the top. Hillary is not a crusader for all women. She is a crusader for herself. Yes, an entire gender vaccilates between stupidity and willful blindness.

As for Obama, I deliberately kept my hopes down because I somehow have myself convinced that the Clintons will not lose. They can’t. I don’t know how they do it, but every time they seem down for the count, they pull out another political miracle.

True, the democrats of New Hampshire are a bunch of dipsticks, but that does not matter. Hillary will wrap herself in the mantle of a fighter and a comeback kid, and four years from now candidates will grovel at the feet of 32 imbeciles from Dix Hills Notch. Thousands of reporters will report about it. The only thing that could make the event any more pathetic would be if the New Hampshire Primary was moved to Groundhog Day so that the reporters can choose which act of nonsense they can fawn over, Punxatawney Phil or Punxatawney Hill.

I said from the very beginning that the media wanted to create fake excitement, but when all was said and done, the favorites would win. Obama, you are a nice kid, but even Oprah can’t help you on this one. All the polls had Hillary down. It did not matter. All it did was embolden her supporters.

This was not just a chance to drive a stake through the heart of Vampiress Clinton. It was a chance to eliminate New Hampshire, or at least reduce it to no more than a place with second rate chowder. Yeah, I said it, the red Manhattan style tastes better. Hillary would have won the nomination anyway, but at least then people would have said that Iowa and New Hampshire are irrelevant. Now we will not be able to be free of her or that useless state.

Some will hold out hopes that since women flocked to Hillary, black America will flock to Obama in South Carolina. To quote New Englander Steven Tyler of Aerosmith, “Dream On.” Between Bill Clinton and John Edwards, black America already has two champions. Obama is the candidate of guilty white liberals, and they are not as powerful in South Carolina.

The reason why this is so important to me, is because with Obama it is political. I disagree with him on issues. With Hillary, it is more personal. I find her and her husband, but especially her, to simply be awful individuals. She disgusts me. Her election would be poison for this country because she would use the White House to settle scores. People are her friend or enemy. There is no middle ground. She could not govern, because too many people despise her. She would blame them, but at some point she has to acknowledge that her image as an unlikable person is not entirely undeserved.

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/08/hillaryplease-god-no/

She cannot and will not ever do this. She was so close to being humbled. She was so close to acknowledging that she was wrong. Now…that is a pipe dream. She was right all along, and everybody who bet against her has learned their lesson.

Obama will be pressured to drop out at some point for the sake of unity. Edwards will rail, and nobody will listen.

As for me, I am relieved I did not watch the returns. It would have sickened me before the one day I want to be in a good mood. The last awful birthday I had was when I turned 24. Ironically, that was the last time I was in New York for my birthday. I had planned to stay for one week, and be back in LA for my birthday, but the blizzard of 1996 kept me there an extra week. All of Brooklyn was closed except for one theatre showing only the movie “Waiting to Exhale.” I now know more about middle class black women living in Phoenix than I ever needed to know.

Every birthday since then has been good. At least the weather here is balmy by wretched New York standards, so I will be able to fly home in time before my party on Saturday night.

The birthday itself tonight will be dinner with some friends in New York, so at least it will not just be me and Whitney Houston.

The licking of Hillary’s appendages by every member of the press will be unbearable for me, so I will be grateful that I will not see it. Besides, I have it on good authority from my grandmother that Wheel of Fortune will be a good episode tomorrow.

The whole point is to make the world a better place, but it means nothing if we get so caught up in the means that we forget the end. Hillary is a disaster as a politician and as a human being, but she cannot hurt my family directly. What would be a disaster is if I spent time watching politics instead of sitting with my grandmother.

After all, no matter who is in the White House, she is just happy that her grandson is visiting.

For that reason alone, turning 36 is pretty cool.

eric

Mish Mosh Monday

Monday, December 24th, 2007

For some, tonight will be the eve of a religious holiday. For me it will be a night of pleasure before a day off from work. So let me declare today Mish Mosh Monday and throw many different random things at you, doing my best to sacrifice quality in the process.

First I would like to say that I am not the only warped republican Jewish fellow on the internet. I found a hysterically funny website that combines politics with weekly recaps. However, this fellow does not do NFL recaps. He does alcohol recaps, giving the recipe for a new drink each week. He calls himself “Your Jewish Master,” and he is a riot.

http://yourjewishmaster.blogspot.com/

I thank Laree for introducing me to him.

Before getting to politics, December 24th is the biggest Jewish party night of the year. December 24th used to mean that the only things open for Jews were movie theatres, bowling alleys, and Chinese food places. 20 years ago an entrepreneur created the idea for Jewish dances at ritzy nightclubs all across the country. In some cities it is called “The Matzoh Ball.” In other cities it is called “Schmoozapalooza.” Despite the awful name, these parties get hundreds of young, single Jews, and in some cities gets a few thousand.

Given that I do not like the one in Los Angeles (I know everybody, rumor has it a few bridges are burned), I have spent the last 4 years attending the one in Miami. It makes me want to cry that I will not be in Miami for the 5th straight year. As for why Miami is so amazing…

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/03/miami-will-smith-is-100-right/

Plan B was to go to San Diego with a friend of mine who is a Broncos fan (yeah, a republican Raider and a liberal Bronco can be friends), and watch the Denver Broncos take on the San Diego Chargers on Monday Night Football. After the game ends, we were going to go to the San Diego Jewish party. Well, the Broncos got knocked out of the playoffs, and my friend understandably decided to save his money. So San Diego went out the window. As for why I like San Diego, one reason is…

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/05/the-san-diego-sorceress/

After debating between Phoenix, Vegas, and other areas, I decided on the Bay Area. A couple weeks ago I entered the Belly of the Beast, San Francisco. In the heart of liberalism, Haight Ashbury, I attended a function that featured hundreds of Jewish republicans. I met a lovely lady at this function, and yes, she is a republican Jewish brunette. While there is a Jewish party in San Francisco, it seems I will be enjoying a fabulous party for two. I fly into the Bay Area at 7pm, plenty of time to pick her up and take her to a fantastic dinner. Forcing myself to be on Frisco soil is a small price to spend time with such a lovely lady. One day later, it is back to LA.

Before getting to the NFL breakdown, my brief focus on politics will be links to previous articles I have written. While my blog has grown exponentially, columns I wrote early on may (or may not) be worth posting again. Some will be lighthearted, others deadly serious.

http://blacktygrrrr.wordpress.com/2007/03/31/the-iraq-war-legally-morally-right-then-now/

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/03/dick-cheney-and-the-wyoming-jewish-cabal/

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/03/destroying-the-jewish-people-one-schoolteacher-at-a-time/

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/03/liberals-can-run-and-they-can-hide/

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/03/detroit-arabs-automobiles-and-awful-football/

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/05/ron-paul-sean-paul-john-paul-and-rupaul-which-one-is-the-least-coherent/

Enough politics. I shall now break down the 2007 NFL playoff picture. First of all, here are my predictions from the beginning of the season.

https://tygrrrrexpress.com/2007/09/2007-nfl-predictions/

For those wanting more on the NFL playoffs, go to www.nfl.com

My breakdown is below.

In the NFC, the East winning Dallas Cowboys at 13-2 have locked up the # 1 seed and home field advantage throughout the playoffs. Before going any further, Coach Wade Phillips is a lovable country bumpkin like his father Bum Phillips. I say that in a completely endearing way. He had a fabulous quote in the LA Times about the whole Tony Romo-Jessica Simpson controversy.

“A lot of our players have girlfriends, wives, and significant others. Some of them may have both.” Three categories normally does not equal both, but at 13-2, Wade can say anything he likes. Plus, like his dad, he is so d@ng likable.

The North winning Green Bay Packers at 12-3 have locked up the # 2 seed and the other first round bye.

The West winning Seattle Seahawks at 10-5 are the # 3 seed. They will host the # 6 seed, which is undetermined at this time.

The South winning Tampa Bay Buccaneers at 9-6 are the # 4 seed. They will host the New York Giants.

Jon Gruden rested his players at halftime, and gave up a chance at the # 3 seed. This might not be so crazy given that if they win their Wildcard matchup, they would travel to Dallas and play indoors, rather than deal with the frozen tundra of Green bay.

The East Wildcard New York Giants at 10-5 are the # 5 seed. They will be at the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

The # 6 seed is up for grabs. The Washington Redskins and Minnesota Vikings at 8-7 are both alive, as are the New Orleans Saints, hanging by a thread at 7-8. If the Redskins win next week, they are in the playoffs. The Redskins have a tough game, hosting the Dallas Cowboys. However, Dallas has wrapped up the conference, and may rest everybody. If the Redskins lose, and the Minnesota Vikings go into Denver and beat the Broncos, then Minnesota reaches the playoffs. The Broncos have nothing to play for, but Mile High is tough. If Washington and Minnesota both lose, and the Saints go into Chicago and beat the Bears, all 3 teams would be 8-8, and the Saints, who started 0-4, would make the playoffs. They would be only the second 0-4 team to do so, following the 1992 Chargers. Lastly, if all 3 teams lose, the Saints at 7-9 would be out, and the Redskins would have the tie breaker over the Vikings based on beating them last night. Whoever gets in would be at Seattle.

 

In the AFC, the East winning New England Patriots at 15-0 have locked up the # 1 seed and home field advantage throughout the playoffs. While normally a team would rest everybody in this situation, the chance to reach immortality at 16-0 could lead them to play the last game. They host the NY Giants, who instead of fighting for their lives, have nothing to play for given their comeback win yesterday.

The South winning Indianapolis Colts at 13-2 have locked up the # seed and the other first round bye.

The West winning San Diego Chargers at 10-5 are currently the # 3 seed.

The North winning Pittsburgh Steelers at 10-5 are currently the # 4 seed.

Both the Steelers and Chargers have games the last week against bad teams, but they are both on the road, and the teams hate their respective guts. The Steelers are at the Ravens, and the Chargers are at the Raiders. Usually being # 3 or # 4 does not matter. Some would want to avoid the Patriots at all costs, but going into Indy is pretty daunting. Pick your poison.

The South Wildcard Jacksonville Jaguars at 11-4 are the # 5 seed. They are dangerous, and might have a better record against either team they play. They could care less whether they are at Pittsburgh or San Diego.

The # 6 seed is only between two teams. The Tennessee Titans and the Cleveland Browns are both 9-6. As strange as this sounds, even though they have the same record, the Browns game does not matter. They host the San Francisco 49ers, but their fate is entirely based on the Titans, who host the Indianapolis Colts Sunday night, the last regular season game of the year. If both teams win and go 10-6, the Titans are in. If both teams lose and go 9-7, The Browns are in. Therefore, the Titans control their own destiny, yet they have to win even if the Browns lose. While the Colts are tough, they have wrapped up their # 2 seed and may rest everybody.

The Miami Dolphins have wrapped up the # 1 pick in the draft at 1-14, and now are officially Dolphin Safe Tuna, now that Bill Parcells has taken over the job of President. He is expected to fire everybody except owner Wayne Huizenga.

The St. Louis Rams, Atlanta Falcons and New York Jets are all 3-12. The Kansas City Chiefs, San Francisco 49ers, and Oakland Raiders are all 4-11, with the Baltimore Ravens at 4-10. So for all the Oakland Raiders fans out there, the Silver and Black could have the # 2 pick in the draft, or slide down to the # 8 pick. To go 4-12 and still pick 8th…an incredible…and possible…indignity.

For those of you not celebrating a holiday tomorrow, I hope you spend every waking minute reading my blog. To quote the hilarious southern comedian Anthony Clark, “To the Jews, Happy Hanukkah, to the Christians, Merry Christmas, and to the Atheists…well…hope you win the lottery, dude.”

Do not drink and drive, for you might hit a bump and spill your drink.

I wish you all happiness, health, and wealth. Tis the season of miracles, and this will be the day where people may one day read about a miracle for generations to come. No, not the long haired fella…a different miracle by a different long haired fella…yours truly. The night a Jewish republican prince (ok, an outlaw) romanced a republican Jewish brunette princess in San Francisco.

Hopefully we can have dinner in Oakland, sneak into the Oakland Alameda County Coliseum, and get wild either in the Raiders locker room or on the swashbuckling Raiders logo on the 50 yard line.

Or we can just get through dinner and like each other enough to date again.

eric