Whatchu Gonna Do?

I've been saving this old WWF ad for probably ten months, having no clue on how to work it into the site. Technically I should have worked it into every single post since it's so awesome, but I still don't have a clue and our clock is ticking.

So I figure I'll use this ultra-intimidating black and white of Hulk Hogan to ultra intimidate our trivia night opponents tomorrow night up in Hazelwood. I already wrote smack about you guys over a year ago. Soon you'll realize your time's up, as my Trivia Ninja Death Squad takes over the universe.

Well, the part of the universe that plays in trivia contests on Saturday nights. It should be a good time, including free booze for Big Sandwich. Memo to the BFHQ couch: you may have some company come midnight Saturday night.

Oh, and by coincidence, Koko B. Ware will appear as the 8th man for our trivia team. He didn't have much else going on.

One Cowboy Fan Isn't Impressed With Ed Werder

Calling You Out: Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel Writer Tom Haudricourt

Albert Pujols, namesake of this here blog, won the 2008 NL MVP today -- despite the aforementioned Haudricourt giving him a seventh-place vote. 

Just to make sure I wasn't missing something, I consulted a mathematician, who confirmed my suspicions: By voting Albert seventh, Haudricourt declared that six players were more valuable than Numero Cinco. Among those six players were two players (CC Sabathia and Manny Ramirez) who were traded to the National League in July. His preference for Aramis Ramirez, Carlos Delgado, and Prince Fielder is only less offensive in the way that you'd rather be called a bastard than a son of a bitch. The sad part is that an error this grievous only guarantees him a spot on Around the Horn.

Haudricourt's "reasoning" follows:

With the Cardinals finishing fourth, I voted Pujols seventh on my ballot. I don’t consider MVP to be “the most outstanding player” award and therefore don’t just go by who had the best stats. I like to credit players for lifting their teams to the post-season or at least keeping them in the race until the very end.

I understand that the Cardinals would not have been even close to the wild-card berth without Pujols, but I still like players who elevate their game in crunch time and lift their teams to new heights. And I thought Ryan Ludwick had just as much to do with keeping the Cards in the hunt as Pujols did. (Editor's Note: Did no one send Haudricourt a link to this fine piece of sportz jerrnalizm?)

There's no sense in trying to engage a guy like this in an intelligent debate. My advice: If you've got a flaming bag of dog poop lying (laying?) around, e-mail it to thaudricourt@journalsentinel.com.

Callin' You Out: Flexitarians

I’m the first to admit that I don’t understand vegetarianism. I mean, let’s look at the facts:

(a) Meat is delicious.
(b) Those animals totally had it coming, anyway.
(c) If you want to climb the food chain, you’ve got to grow a pair (of opposable thumbs).

Up until now I’ve been willing to coexist with vegetarians peacefully, mostly because it means more bacon for me. But now some meat-eaters (heh) are waffling (mmm, waffles) and going part-veg, and they’re trying to co-opt the Flex’s good name:

Not in my back yard, chief. The Flex proudly stands for baseball and sexual harassment and mild physical violence and crude language and adult situations... and meat. And as long as I'm around, that's not going to change.

Callin' You Out: Rina Wear

Alright Rina Wear. Let me say this up front: I enjoy your funny shirts. Most of them are good. Some of them need to be part of my collection ("Bacon: The Candy Bar of Meats" is at the top of that list). Unfortunately I don't own any of your clothing, but I like to support you as a local business targeted to my people.

So naturally...we're MySpace friends.

You're great, you're cool, blah blah. On to your call-out. Maybe I am in a cranky mood or something, but after seeing this new shirt a little while ago, I decided to fire up the ol' Bertflex and run wild on you.



An Aaron Miles shirt? Come on. I gave you guys a free pass after seeing the Skip Shoe-maker shirt. And I really bit my tongue after the Troy Glaus shirt was unleashed on the world.

But Aaron Miles? I know that many scrappy, white St. Louisans enjoy seeing an Aaron Miles at-bat four times a game, but that doesn't mean he should be celebrated in t-shirt form. Side note: there is only one Pujols shirt design, meaning Skip Shumaker has the 2:1 t-shirt advantage over Bert. I know Albert is a little too "mainstream" around the area, but that needs to be fixed.

That's the extent of my rambling. Keep up the good work Rina Wear, but focus your creative effort on places other than four feet tall utility men who have "Back in Black" as their batting music.

Neither of those things are cool. And we're all about being cool, here at Bertflex.

Cubs Fans Are Douchebags

As you can see in the video, some Cubs fans are absolute fucks. Cause it takes a college kid covered in blue paint to dump a cooler of water on a hot chick that isn't paying attention (and actually has a job). If he wants to see a hot wet T-shirt contest, where you're actually seeing nips, hit a bar.

Would he have done this if it was Dibble instead?

Callin' You Out: Cubs Fans

Look at you bastards. All of you.


Evidently bloggers don't sit in the lower-level seats at Wrigley. Or they have a short memory. To refresh your memory, the general consensus on May 12, 2008 was this:

Hire Jim Essian - Jim Hendry, you’ve done an awful lot of dumb things in your tenure as the Chicago Cubs’ general manager. You signed Neifi Perez a couple of times. You thought Shawn Estes belonged in a starting rotation. You traded Kyle Farnsworth right after a crap year instead of right after a good year. You ate that whole cheesecake that had been sitting out on the counter for a week, even though I told you that the top shouldn’t feel slimy. I’ve forgiven you for most of those things. But so help you God, if you sign Jim Edmonds, you are dead to me.


Hmm. That is all.

Callin' You Out: Old People

I've been putting off my licence plate renewal, for uh, 29 days now, and today I was finally able to take the morning off work and take care of bizness.

First things first: I had to get the all-important safety and emissions test. Doesn't the government know that "Dangerous" is my middle name? You know, Hazelwood's Prestigious Ass Kicking Dangerous Bacon Sauce Most Wanted.

Then I got to the DMV at 12:30 in the afternoon. Left at 1:50.

Side note #1: Okay, I realize a) it's my fault for going on the last day of the month, and b) it's even dumber to go in the middle of the day.

Howevuh, the only people at the DMV at 12:30 should be the working crowd. Judging by the looks of everyone (at least 100 people while I was there), not many of them were working (see: old people, some stoners, hoosiers, etc).

Side note #2: I also realize that going to the DMV on Lindbergh isn't good because it's a well-known fact that people in Hazelwood don't work. Even though this DMV is in Florissant, it's close enough that it draws plenty of attention from the H-Wood crowd. I am a rare bird in the fact that:

1) I'm from Hazelwood
2) I work full time

Back to the story...I spent an hour and twenty minutes at the DMV, mostly because of stupid old people being there during lunch time. The picture above is what the first two rows of seats looked like today. As you can tell, I was pissed. Old people are supposed to be there at 6 am, not when people (who still have jobs) are in a hurry during their lunch hour. I'm sure my boss didn't mind me strolling in there after 2 pm for a half day.

As I told the Mad Librarian earlier, this is reason #937426052795 to hate old people. I know none of them will read this, since we're only on the internet thing, so feel free to print this out and shove it in your grandparents' faces later this year during Thanksgiving or Christmas.

If any of you jerks have dumb comments about me being a dumbass, I'm startin' a fight.

Callin' You Out: Softball Magazine

Ladies and gents, I had a major discovery the other night at Books-A-Million. Naturally I was checking out the magazines, since them books is hard tuh reed. I walked by the rows of porn (very slowly) and went straight to the sports section. After looking for a Baseball 'Mericah and not finding one, I glanced over and my mouth dropped after seeing something I have never seen before: Softball Magazine.

Not just fast pitch...slow pitch too. Some D-Bag is even featured on the cover of the current issue (left). And you know what? Their site says they've been around since 1996! That means they were celebrating their 5th anniversary when a certain team of mashers won the UMSL Rec Sports Tournament in the spring of '01. And they didn't even interview us, let alone put us on the damn cover?! Go to hell Softball Magazine!

Do the right thing and let us retell the story of our road to glory. I can even show you my Rec Sports Champion t-shirt, along with the homemade markered-up shirt I wore that day.

The championship game alone doesn't do the story justice, it has to be like a ten page spread; we'll even reenact the entire thing for you so you can take pictures. Do the right thing Softball Mag...do it.

Email me now: haymang@yahoo.com

Sir could tell the story. Maltliquorman could tell it. Annie Fresh could tell it. Even though he wasn't there, I'm sure Big Sandwich has heard this one a few thousand times; he could tell it. On the other hand Jon Frost had no idea what happened...he was home by the time we were lighting up the scoreboard.

Email me Softball Magazine. Seriously.

Or catch me on the diamond, I play 16 games a week.