nothingtoclickhereSo I’ve been away from this post for awhile as this little bitch called life is so fond of fucking over your daily Nothing to Click Here dosage of me, but fear not, I’m taking off my Non Sequitur skirt and putting on my Barbara Streisand, in The Prince of Tides, ass-masking NTCH pants and getting back to “work”. 

First, I’d like to apologize to everyone who I’ve made sick these last few days.  I got it from a night of spit-swappin’ with someone waaaay younger than Sportsgal, so it was almost worth it.  Almost.  It literally dropped me to the canvas for 5 days.  My body felt like I went a round or six with Tyson.  It really sucks.  I hope you avoid it.  As of this moment, Spence and SG also have it.

loyalty

So, Sportsgal, I’m sorry I gave it to you.  Who knew that a heated, cyber session with SG could result in that?  And Spence… dear, Spence.  I thought we were friends.  Buds. Compadres.  Comrades in arms.  But you’ve stabbed me in the back.  I gave it to SG and then somehow you [fingerquote] coincidentally [/fingerquote] contract the same thing?  If it works like I think it does, through this series of internet tubeage and pipeage, ya’ll might want to get checked for the Herp.  Just sayin’…

There’s Nothing to Click Here: The ADD ADDition

My man-crush, Brayden Tyler Quinn, has a broken index finger and is going to play.  That is the definition of a man, Tony Romo, not how many skank singers you can bang.  Truth.

Sorry I clinched on you, Brady. - Spence

Sorry I clinched on you, Brady. - Spence

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bocrFetch, this weekend, you really need to go hunting for bear with some new ammo.  No, not CRM-type bear, but chick bears, like that hot little number Yogi used to want to bang.  The fine folks, and their incessant Top 10 lists spread out over 10 goddamn pages, at AskMen.com have put together one of the most concise, common sense, how-to-score pieces I’ve ever seen.  It’s what I’ve based my life’s work on, and to see it in one place, well, I shed a tear.  It officially has gained the Official Rex Stamp ‘o Approval, officially.

No. 9 – Stay in control.  Not that kind of control, Fetch.  Control as in “Have a plan”.  Don’t bring that “whatever you want to do is fine with me, sweet mama” shit to the table.  Run the show.  Watch the scene in Fast Times at Ridgemont High when Mark Ratner orders Stacy’s food at the German House o’ Schnitzel.  ”The lady will also have a coke”. That’s control, baby.  Have a game plan, even if it means your parents drop you off at Chuck E. Cheese and pick up.  I told you it’s simple stuff, but combined with some liberal application of Armani Black Code, it kills.

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A Hit.  A Very, Very Hard Hit:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adtSIKTEfKk]

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Hoff or Heff:  Who ya got?

hoff_jacketsunny3

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Obligatory Sparty Pimpage:

Sparty goes out on a limb and says something that I assume reads like “Big TelevEN has the best basketball conference in the whole US of A“.  That’s my guess, at least.

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Neutron Man’s RV:

nmNever guess this was the RV of a millionnaire…

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And Finally, Bask in his Beanie’ness:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ZmuBLYYjrc]

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