Monday, May 14, 2001

Voodoo Loves Stuart Scott

I had to share this with everyone...Most of you already know I have a thing for sports, and that Stuart Scott is an announcer on SportsCenter. God love him. I love him. He's soo, sooo, how do you say, PHRESH. Anyway, here's something I found interesting.

Later...
Voodoo

Don't go all Rasheed about this
People in sports are topics of conversation
Scott Ostler
Monday, May 14, 2001
©2001 San Francisco Chronicle

URL: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2001/05/14/SP201478.DTL


IN "GOOD Will Hunting," Will's buddies give him a beat-up car for his 21st birthday. Will's best friend has been the group's wheel man. He plays off the gift, guy style, by telling Will, "I'm not going to Al Cowlings you around forever."

The reference being to O.J. Simpson's pal who chauffeured the Juice on the low-speed Bronco chase.

I hadn't realized how many sports-people references have crept into everyday conversation until I overheard two guys talking in a bar.

Pass me that bowl of bar snacks, dude. Don't Kobe 'em.

Don't have a Shaq attack, man. There's plenty. Say, how's your girlfriend?

She Tie Domi'd me.

No kidding? A blind-side cheap shot.

Yeah, she just went all Rasheed on me last night. Completely berserk. I had to eject her from my house. She was throwing things at me -- bottles, candles, whatever. Fortunately, she was doing a Rick Ankiel.

What's she so 'Sheed off about?

She accused me of Al Davis-ing her.

That figures, knowing you. You just can't make a long-term commitment, can you?

Hell yes, I can. I'm an honorable guy. I just can't keep it. But what about her? She said she wanted to be my girlfriend for life, but couldn't commit to that unless I bought her a new car to prove I love her.

Sheffield city. Hey, is it true that she found out about you and the young chick in the hot tub?

Yeah, she laid a big Chmura trip on me. She doesn't realize the courage it took for me to come clean about that incident.

Courage? She found the Polaroids, dude. You're playin' out of control, Mr. Jason Williams.

You might be right. Still, it's a blow. It was great for a while, then another Mickelson finish. How's your girlfriend?

She played the George Karl card, whined that I didn't respect her, didn't give her enough attention. So we broke up awhile back, but now she's Jordaning me.

Really? She's teasing you about coming back? That's good, right? She is a cutie.

She's also a Flutie.

You still have a Jones for taller women, eh?

Yeah, I guess you could say I have a "Too Tall" Jones.

How about that boss of yours? Still giving you a hard time?

Rod Smart.

He hate you, eh?

Yeah, ever since I started telling people I was bored with the job and probably would jump to another company the first chance I got.

Well, sure he's cranky if you're C-Webbing the man.

He gets on my nerves. He's a tyrant. Son of Steinbrenner. I'd like to Spre the dude.

Don't go there, girlfriend. If you Spre'd him, he'd just Bobby Knight you right back, and you'd both wind up with Merton Hanks neck. What's the deal, isn't he happy with your work?

He is, when I manage to show up. I've been late a lot, but it's not my fault. Why is it that scientists can put a man on the moon but they can't develop a reliable alarm clock?

Ah, so you been Isaiah Rider-ing. And bringing in high-quality alibis, I hope.

The best. My hamster died. I stopped to rescue orphans from a burning liquor store. Martians stole my sparkplugs. Original stuff. But every excuse I throw in this guy's direction, he Dikembes back at me. Today, he called me into his office and Tyson'd my ears. Said he was expecting more for all the money he's paying me, said I was A-Rodding him. He gave me a royal Aikman.

You gotta learn to Canseco that stuff, just let it bounce off your head and over the fence. Look, I sympathize with you, pal. I know that's a very hard job you've got.

Hard? On the hardness scale, it's between Shaq's free throws and Kobe's ear studs. If I ran into my boss right here in the bar, I'd Barkley his butt right through that window.

Maybe you should find another job. Have you checked out the want ads?

Can't. I never get my newspaper anymore. The delivery guy Knoblauchs The Chronicle onto my roof or into the puddle every day.

You're on a losing streak, dude. Maybe you should go the Tony Muser route.

Pray less and drink more? I'm thinking of giving that a try, old boy. Say, do you think you could give me a lift home? I'm a little tipsy.

I'm not surprised. We ordered about 10 shooters and I didn't have any. You took all the shots. You Iverson'd me.

So Al Davis me.

No, I'm not going to sue you. I'm going to Al Cowlings your rear end home.

posted by Voodoo Child @ 4:19:00 PM