Welcome to the final preview for the Super Xtreme Asskickin Monster Truck Firestorm Tournament of Death. Today we go through the Natural Bridge Regional. As opposed to the other regions, Natty Bridge's contests will be played at a variety of locations: Alan's Clip Joint, II STL Brothers Nightclub, Church's Chicken, Afro World, the other Church's, and former home of the USBL's SkyHawks: The UMSL Basketball Arena (aka "the gym"). It seems like yesterday that a group of young lads were living near Natural Bridge road, developing into the jerks they are today. Ahh, memories. Onto today's preview, written by Maltliquorman:
#1 Fantasy Drafts vs. #16 Slurpee's/Icee's
For most of us, Slurpees are a cherished childhood memory. You knew it was summer when you could walk down to 7-11, get a 328 oz. half-cherry, half-coca-cola Slurpee for like $.79, and hook yourself up with yet another Tony Gwynn holodisc. And if you don’t remember the holodiscs, you’re way too lame to be reading this. Times change, and so do Slurpee flavors, but you can always count on them stocking that gross-ass banana Slurpee that nobody wants. I would say that our sweet and squishy beverage friends have no chance here, except they’re matched up against fantasy drafts, not fantasy leagues. For fantasy dorks, draft day is both the best and worst day of the year. On the one hand, you and your friends get together, drink beer, curse, taunt, eat bad food, and maybe even draft a fantasy team if there’s time left over. It can basically encompass half of the awesome things on this list in one day. And hey, everybody’s a contender on draft day!!!! Right? O.K., well, maybe not everyone. One the other hand, a bad fantasy draft is an awful lot like a bad bachelor party: things start out with a bang, but seven hours later, you’re working on a mean drunk, you’re frustrated, three of your “friends” have come to blows over some old skank in Cleveland, and you just wanna get the stripper glitter off your face and go to bed.
#2 BBQ vs. #15 Ice Cream
This is a tough draw for Ice Cream. If we were taking this poll eighteen years ago, Ice Cream would’ve been the two seed. Of course, it also would’ve been taken out in the regional finals by Super Mario Brothers 3 or TMNT. If you stack the five best BBQ options (Chicken, ribs, hot dogs, hamburgers, and more ribs) against the five best ice cream flavors (Rocky Road, Cookie Dough, and any three Ben and Jerry’s flavors) , it would be a BBQ beatdown. Ice Cream just cannot win the starting five matchups. The one thing that Ice cream has going for it in this matchup is bench depth. This matchup might be even tighter if you consider Ice Cream items from Dairy Queen and the like. If anything could take down ribs, it would be a Peanut Buster Parfait…. Or Ribs-flavored ice cream.
#3 Farting vs. #14 Flextime
If you’ve spend any time around Sir, you know the value of farting. Ten years ago, I would’ve bet that farting would not be hysterical when I was 25. And I would’ve lost that bet. Just think about the last time you said to yourself “Boy, this movie/TV show/ poker night/ fantasy draft would be a lot better if it weren’t for all this ass-dropping.” Yeah, that’d be NEVER. As far as flex time is concerned, I’d like to take everybody back to a parallel universe. Imagine it's 2005. Cards vs. ‘Stros in the NLCS. Brad Lidge throws a goo-ball that Bert Flex abso-freaking-lutely vaporizes. But instead of striking a look that says “I may just bludgeon somebody to death with this baseball bat and then have sex with his wife,” he puts his head down and starts motoring to first like he’s David Eckstein trying to leg out a walk. Weak. The bomb made it memorable, but the flextime made it legendary. (note: hopefully, we’re not talking about flex time at work, because if so, I got nothin’)
#4 Winning Someones Money in Poker vs. #13 Camera Phones
It’s money. It’s all yours now. It used to be somebody else’s. Go ahead, enjoy it. Go buy some tacos. And then, find the dumb sonafabitch who “bought” you those tacos, stuff them in your face, and dance around the poor schmuck whilst you sing ODB’s “Baby I got your money.” Just beware, because next week, you might be the one buying tacos for someone else. Camera phones, unlike winning at poker, don’t have quite the same inherent awesomeness. On the other hand, when you’re chillin’ at Hrabosky’s on Skanksgiving and the Co-eds are making damn fools of themselves, a camera phone is easily worth 2-3 WSOP bracelets.
#5 Anchorman Quotes vs. #12 Beat Downs
I’m sure there’ll be a day when “Sixty percent of the time, it works… Every time,” won’t be gut-bustingly hilarious, but that day isn’t today and probably won’t be tomorrow. Anchorman may not be the funniest movie evar, but it is easily one of the most quotable. Unfortunately for Mister Burgundy and the News Team, I think the fix is in placing Beat downs in the dangerous 12 seed. Just ask any member of the legendary BYOB softball squizad. Victory, like a fine wine, only gets better when you drop five bombs on your opponent in one inning.
#6 Buffets vs. #11 Walk-off Home Runs
Buffets may rank alongside Elvis, Playboy, and Baseball as America’s greatest contributions to human culture. You know what would be great? If those snotty-ass restaurant managers stopped telling me how much food I can have and started giving me plates of fried shrimp, fried chicken, fried roast beef, fried catfish, and fried chocolate pudding. Maybe the only food experience more awesome than buffets is… Chinese buffets. I personally have grown tired of the ubiquitous use of the term “walk-off.” Walk-off singles, walk-off sacrifice flies, and walk-off HBP’s can go suck a fart. The walk-off homer, on the other hand, still has the same thrill as when you were swinging a bat at an imaginary ball, pretending to be Ozzie Smith, Joe Carter, or Kirk Gibson. And if you have hit a walk-off homer at any point in your life at any level of competition, you get 1 million bonus points for giving it the Kirk Gibson fist pump while hobbling around the bases.
#7 Press Conference Blowups vs. #10 Getting Your Tax Return
“If you wanna crown ‘em, then crown ‘em!!!”
“Playoffs!?!….. PLAYOFFS!!!???!!!”
“It’s division one football! It’s the Big 12! This ain’t intermurals!”
Press conference blowups are absolute comedy gold, whether its college or pro, basketball, football, or curling. My favorite blowup is still the John Cheney vs. John Calipari A-10 Basket-Brawl from about ten years ago. Tax returns are a bit more of a mixed bag. If you’ve ever received enough to buy something completely ridiculous, like an RBI Baseball arcade game or a Cow (yes, a freaking cow), you know just how badass returns can be. On the other hand, Receiving a check from the IRS for $13.80 gives you the distinct feeling your own government has just kicked you square in the nuts.
#8 Being White vs. #9 Bling
This match-up is reminiscent of the Lakers-Celtics rivalry of the 1980’s: there’s no in between. Nobody should be thinking hard about which one they prefer. Either you love ballin’ out of control, or you love not getting your ass whupped by the police. Well, I suppose nobody likes being clubbed by the man, but you know what I mean. There is nothing whiter than the smug satisfaction of knowing just how white you are. As philosopher Chris Rock once said, “being white is like always having five dollars…. Being black is like always being fifty cents short.” On the other hand, nothing epitomizes the inherent black ability to make outlandish cool like ice in your grill and chrome on your wheels. In fact, every time I see some white guy sporting bling, I get the irresistible urge to break his fucking nose.
Come back Monday to find out who is advancing to the second round.
4.11.2008
Natural Bridge Regional Preview
Labels: tournament of death
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