The Worst Foods of 2009 - According to Not Us

Back in the summer we had a big discussion about a list of the Worst Foods in America, and it pretty much confirmed we are a bunch of disgusting bastards.

Today I caught word that the updated list for 2009 is out. Head over to Men's Health to learn about the foods that normal people should avoid. We, on the other hand, fully endorse all 20 foods.

With all the greasy options out there, you might be surprised that #1 isn't something deep fried. It's the Baskin Robbins Large Heath Bar Shake, filled with 2,310 calories of yummy goodness.

Even though it's fucking cold outside, my suggestion is to go out and try this immediately. At the beginning of the article, it says that eight out of last year's list of twenty have been removed from their respective menus. So it's possible that a year from now (if not sooner), we could be celebrating the memory of the Heath Bar Shake.

In disappointing news, I haven't had anything on this year's list. I blame it on them using too many places I don't go to (Chili's, Outback Steakhouse, Romano's Macaroni Grill, Uno Chicago Grill), not to mention using those places more than once. If I really put my mind to it, I think I could knock out three or four of these (looking at the Hardee's and DQ entries especially) by the end of the weekend. We'll see.

I enjoy reading articles like this, as it usually provides me some entertainment and is something I can have fun discussing with other people. But one thing kind of got me riled up, provoking a smidgen of anger within my system.

The one bone I have to pick (literally...you'll get the joke in two seconds) is the category of "Worst Ribs of 2009." Uh, Men's Health: there is no such thing as Worst Ribs, so you need to shut your whore mouth. I believe Ponderosa was selling a rib platter with rat poison seasoning in the fall of '07, and they weren't that bad. Only the close-minded people had a problem with them...

For reference, MH's "Worst Ribs" are the full rack of Outback Steakhouse Baby Back Ribs, which means I need to be there with my Krusty Brand Heart Defibrillator ASAP.

Happy Bert-Day

It was a real raucous night at BFHQ last night, as I was watching a little of the '07 Home Run Derby on MLB Network. I caught the big second round from Mr. Pujols, only to be disappointed once again (a la 2003) when his run at the finals was trounced by Vlad Guerrero and Alex Rios (yuck).

But one thing I did realize is that today is Bert's 29th birthday (feel free to add your own asterisk on that one). We'd like to wish him a happy birthday, as we sit patiently waiting for another ridiculous season of mashing from Bert Flex.

Unfortunately, while watching that Derby, I checked out Pujols' Baseball Reference page and noticed the long list of nicknames that he possesses:

Prince Albert
Phat Albert
The Machine
El Hombre

Prince Albert? Really? And Phat Albert - has anyone other than Rob Desir used that one? With the omission of "Bert Flex" from that list, it just confirms that we're complete and utter failures.

Although the question could be asked: were we before our time? Will history look back at us as pioneers of things...and stuff?

Well, at least we had fun being failures. See you soon Bert.

Wrasslin' Talk

Friend of the site and our personal video guru, Hollywood, launched a new blog recently. It's called The Indy Corner, and it will cover many Independent Wrestling promotions throughout the country.

I'm really digging it, as Hollywood's put a lot of effort into getting a few interviews and posting videos so far. Even if you're not down on WWE and TNA's continuous quest for maximum suckage, check out The Indy Corner when you've got a chance.

theindycorner.blogspot.com

I would imagine if The Indy Corner ever hit a slow news week, Hollywood and I could reminisce about the time we listened to The Ultimate Warrior speak for over an hour at the Pilot House at UMSL, in which he instructed us to "fucking breed like rabbits" towards the end a confusing lecture. Quite a meaningful experience for both of us, though I think we vowed to never talk about that again.

Yeh Mang, Dis Collar's Popped

Maybe Bert will wear a striped shirt to this Weekend's Winter Warm-Up. Maybe not. Either way, here's a nifty little preview of what to expect, from me - a guy who hasn't gone to one in seven years. Feel free to gawk at all the pictures of vote for the InsideSTL GND of the Year while you're there.

Reason #1 Why My Office isn't "The Office"

It's been a week and a half of little to no eating (quick PSA: if your work offers a free flu voucher every year, it's usually best to go ahead and take advantage of that shit, unless you want to lose over 15 pounds in nine days), so yesterday when I told my boss that I needed to head home early due to fatigue and a little hunger, the perfect Michael Scott moment stared her right in the face:

Me: Hey (boss lady), I've got to head out of here. I'm still not feeling up to par, plus I didn't really eat much, so I need something inside me.

Her: (words that didn't include "that's what she said," so I don't remember)

The Sweet Sounds of Doogie

Hosting SNL over the weekend obviously wasn't as big as the World Magic Awards recently, but this Neil Patrick Harris clip stood out in an overall weak show:

Times Are Tough: McGraw Millhaven Edition

I truly enjoy the benefits of DirecTV and all, but after seeing this over the weekend...



damn I miss Chalk Talk (shed tear).

And come on McGraw, they have plain shirts on the clearance rack too.

Gou-lay!

One way to lighten the mood around here: the top 20 Will Ferrell moments, from manofest.com. It's complete with videos too. The list is debatable, but top notch stuff.

It's Not You, It's Me

One of the things you learn in life is that anything can change in an instant. A year ago today was our first "real" post of B-Flex version 2. Lots of hope, lots of dreams, lots of bacon.

Today we're crying for attention one last time, and announcing that we're shutting down the shop.

I'd like to think that a whole year is all we needed to make our point. To get everything off our chest.

Not quite, but it's time to wrap up this lil' party.

Lucky for you, this isn't the last post. I don't want to throw too much at you at one time, so let's drag this out another month or so.

In the past year, I've learned I'm bad at handling relationships (Or am I good at mis-handling relationships?? Hmm...), so in a fitting tribute we're going to wait and dump you all on Valentine's day, February 14th.

Until then, it's business as usual. Any last requests can be sent over the next 36 days to haymang@yahoo.com.

Panda Watch

I saw a commercial last night where Noah Wyle was pouring his heart out for you selfish bastards to donate some dollaz to the WWF. No, not the WWF that made Doink the Clown and the Brooklyn Brawler famous (using that term loooosely), he's talking about the World Wildlife Fund.

So it got me to thinking about the new WWF logo that the Wildlife Fund should have used when they "settled their differences" with Vince McMahon & Co. back in 2002:



Good God Almighty!

Always gets a chuckle out of me.

Brian Barber: Imagine You Are Weightless...

I don't post Brian Barber's rookie card enough, but I found a way to work it into today's InsideSTL column. I think a couple of you still care, so check it out when you have a chance.

And while we're at it, here is last week's article about the MLB Network, and two weeks ago about message board meltdowns. Thanks for reading.

How Bored Are You? Take a Test!

Trey Wingo hosts a video on ESPN.com about their new site redesign. The video is 1 minute 56 seconds. How long can you make it?

Click here to find out.

8 seconds for me. Good in rodeo at least.

Movin' 101, Sir Mix-a-Lot: Thanks for the Memories

As the computer flipped your calendar to 2009, you may have noticed one thing change around the STL airwaves - the dawn of the new 101 ESPN. It's the first all-sports FM station here, which was way overdue.

It seems like a long time ago that this station was The River. Back in those days, you could hear Big Sandwich spinnin' the new Kelly Clarkson tunes until bedtime. Then all of a sudden, they gayed the station up even more by switching to Movin' 101.1 - get your move on now! (off button). I thought there was a reason every other station left the Madonna songs back in the 80s.

It was around spring/summertime when the Post-Dispatch's Dan Caesar wrote about rumblings of an all-sports station on 101.1, and I'll have to admit, my body got a little tingly. But once 101 started making some roster signings, those feelings went from "hey, that's awesome" to (insert Price is Right noise here).

Caesar wrote about the new station in his column last week (that's always a must-read for me, despite his creepy photo). I've checked out 101.1 a couple times on the way home from work, and uh, it sounds good. The guys talking, however...meh.

Here is the lineup:

5-10 a.m.: Mike Greenberg, Mike Golic. Wow, you guys should have just kicked me in the balls for five hours instead.

10 a.m.-2 p.m.: Bryan Burwell, Pat Parris. I don't get asked "Hey did you read that Bryan Burwell column?" or "Do you remember that Bryan Burwell column?" too often. There is a reason (no, not my intense racism). As for Mr. Parris, I don't think I can respect the guy who reads texts from John in DeSoto on the post-game show, let alone the guy who frequents the Tan Co. when he's not at the ballpark.

2 p.m-6 p.m.: Bob Ramsey, Randy Karraker, D'Marco Farr. When Bob Ramsey was let go from 590, no one was saying "Bob Ramsey! Fired?! He has to come back to radio! He must!" (okay, I'm all for people finding new jobs somewhere, but seeing how it's 2009, the Crammer really brings nothing to the table). Randy Karraker will always have a soft spot in my heart for hosting Chalk Talk, but his presence on this show really doesn't do anything for me. Besides Parris, D'Marco Farr is the other new face for St. Louis radio and he's the only part of the lineup that I actually like. I think he had a pretty good personality talking sports when I caught him on the Worst Damn Sports Show years ago. I'm afraid his baseball talk will be lacking come March thru October, so that means more Crammer and RandyK talk.

And that means more of me not listening.

It's pretty likely that 101 will eventually sign some bigger names in the local sports-talk biz, so I'm not ready to give up hope just yet.

But one tiny request to the station: play a little "Baby Got Back" or "This Is How We Do It" in the background once in a while to hold me over.

My Favorite Things For 2008

Rarely do I ever take a page from the Oprah handbook, but I decided to compile a list of my favorite things that have been introduced (or in one case - reintroduced) into my life in 2008. So if you're not on board for any of these yet, I plan on using my immense brainwashing powers to make you like everything I like.

No, you won't see championship belts, Nintendo Wii's, or bobbleheads on this list. Just regular ol' stuff that may be flying under the radar. Until now.

In no particular order, here are my favorite things of the year:

1) Drinkin' Category: (tie) G2 and Raspberry Lemonade Propel
I decided to get the tie out of the way first. Despite Derek Jeter being a spokesman, G2 is fucking delicious. And not to go all wussy on you, it's got less calories than regular G-Rade. As for the Propel, simply put: raspberry lemonade is crack. The Propel packs come in powder form and you mix them with a bottle of water (wow, I'm really going wussy on you). They have rapidly become the official drink mix of the BertFlex World Headquarters. Sir leans towards Kiwi Strawberry or Lemon, probably in an attempt to not get addicted like me.

2) Eatin' Category: Wendy's
A big "welcome back" goes to Wendy's. They came back to the STL area in late 2007, but back then, the lines were so long it took us a month to find an hour to stand around and wait for some Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers. Now a weekly Wendy's trip is always on my agenda. Go support Wendy's. Even if you don't have one close to you, a couple JBC's, chicken nuggets and Frosty is worth the trip.

3) Computernets Category: BaconToday.com
Your average single male blogger would put some kind of porn site in this spot, or maybe a humor/hot chicks blog (two things we ought to feature, but don't). Instead, I'll send you to bacontoday.com, a magical place where we've learned about ALL things bacon, including the Turbaconducken. I would have loved to eaten one of those on Thanksgiving, but mom wasn't having any of it. I thought she loved me, hmm. Anyway, put bacontoday.com in your Google Reader (an honorable mention to my favorite things) or at least be sure to check them out on your daily internet rounds.

4) TV Category: AWA Wrestling on ESPN Classic
Those evil bastards at Charter kept this away from me for the first eight months of the year by not offering ESPN Classic on their expanded basic package, so little did I know what I was missing out on every night at 11pm. Classic shows old AWA Wrestling from 1985-1990, back when ESPN was crappy enough to put pro wrestling on their one and only network. The fun part is this era is considered to be the "downfall of the AWA," seeing how they folded up in 1991. That downfall is passed on to the viewer (me, since I'm the only one watching) as pure golden entertainment. The gimmicks are awesome. The mullets are awesome - literally every person on the air has a mullet. The ring attire is awesome. And most importantly, the production value is off the charts awesome. Take a look at the intro:


I love that shit. Also, for the TV Category I have to give an honorable mention to me laughing at the dirty porn titles on the DirecTV. Blow Me Sandwich 12? Who's the genius that comes up with that, and how many yachts does he own?

5) HMW's Personal Category: Blogging For Money
I was trying to think of a really good #5 here, but what else do I do besides eat, drink, play on the computer and watch tv? I suppose poker could have been thrown in there, but I'm a sellout, what did you expect? Thanks to the fine folks at InsideSTL.com for giving me the opportunity to do that, and I'm assuming they haven't read any of my work since I would have been gone a long time ago. One would assume that sometime soon you'll see listed in their links: "HMW out indefinitely (sucking)." But until that day, I'll bust my ass for them and you. I've said it before: I'm such a sweetheart.

And that money helped me buy lavish things like the laptop I'm writing on, and the championship belt I may or may not be wearing right now...

BertFlex: Officially The Champs

Over the weekend, we made another significant purchase in BertFlex history:


Quit looking at my crotch...it's a championship belt! And not just some crap belt made by some Indonesian kids, this is the real deal (straight outta fuckin' Honduras!). It's a replica of the "Smoking Skull" belt that Stone Cold Steve Austin wore when he was the WWF Champion.

For that fact alone, it is very fitting that this belt belong in our possession. Now all disputes among the group of Flexers can be be decided via title match.

After "winning" the belt over the weekend, I defended it against the Mad Librarian in a heated arm-wrestling match. It was very very close, but I prevailed, putting me at 1-0 in title defenses.

So for anyone interested in taking a shot at the title, I'm here baby. But keep in mind: I'm the champ; I call the shots.

Come get some.

And They Wonder Why America's Youth is Messed Up

Exhibit A:



Although "America's Youth" has technically grown up and is now fucked up enough to think of shit like this and take it out on their kids. What's it say about me that about 66% of me laughed at this video?

A Braggin' Rights Recap, Sort Of

Last night I hit the Busch Braggin' Rights game with a 10-year-old. Before I left, I assessed the possible advantages and disadvantages of this outing.

Advantages: Child is likely to serve as convenient intermediary in case of run-ins with Truman the Tiger, who is a total dick.

Disadvantages: Child is likely to tell his mother if I start the "You're going to get your fuckin' head kicked in" chant, and he cannot legally drive me home if I get wasted.

So a toss-up. We arrived at the game a bit late due to traffic-and-parking related incidents, which means we missed this glorious display of manhood. One of Mizzou's male cheerleaders did catch my eye, though, because he looked like a linebacker he ate a linebacker: fucking beefy. I trust you can pick him out of this lineup.


Anyway, the Illini proceeded to hand Mizzou a 75-59 loss, while Mizzou did its best to rack up 20-something team fouls. Nice job guys. The child and I still had fun watching the game while trash-talking our own team and comparing notes on wrasslin', cards, and our respective time in the U.S. educational system. And then I returned him to his folks, all jacked up on nachos and Cherry Pepsi, 'cause I couldn't make it any longer without dropping the f-bomb.

Oh, also, I got this for Christmas from the child and his family. There are four other Potato Heads and assorted parts inside. It's OK that you are jealous, and if you are nice to me I might let you come over and play Potato Head with me. Maybe. (Wait, does that sound dirty?)

Oh, Sweet Heavens, My Dreams are Coming True

Most of us with clear memories of the '80s do not find ourselves longing for a return to the days of tight-rolled jeans, giant hair, and those tube socks with the colored stripes at the top. But if I could travel back as a 20-something I would, for one reason and one reason alone: Reaganomics.

No, not really. (Sorry, Hack.)

I would, however, happily go back -- via flux capacitor, natch -- for a little face time with The Rockers, particularly Shawn Michaels, who's downright dreamy. If you are not familiar with The Rockers, let me introduce you. And if you find that you don't like them, then we probably can't be friends.



"Napoleon Dynamite" taught me that time machines aren't real, so unfortunately I can't participate in Marty Jannetty's hard-drinking days or break shit with an angry Shawn Michaels. But here's the next best thing: RAW in St. Louis on February 2. It's a taping, which means the Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels is likely to be in attendance, along with the jorty John Cena, badass Rey Mysterio, and irritating intercontinental champion Santino Marella. (Yes, TGF, I know you love Marella. Why don't you just marry him?) Marty Jannetty will be busy working third shift at at 7-11 in Iowa.

So February 2. Be there. Or be dead to me.

The Day I Officially Sold Out

Tonight, December 22nd.

Over the summer when I interviewed Brett Wallace, I dropped the InsideSTL name in order to score the interview. At the time Big Head called me a sellout for not using the prestigious BertFlex name to land said interview. It turns out that the powers that be at Quad Cities hadn't heard of either website (very humbling), so it didn't really matter. I took Big Head's comment as playful bro on bro ribbing (whoa, that sounded a lot better in my mind) and life went on.

A couple months later, I decided to move out of the BFHQ-Hazelwood Office and upgrade to a nicer locale in...West County (gasp!). I'll admit that was 99% sellout material, but the move was much needed and no one has complained about the new BFHQ. Win-win for everyone.

That brings me to the present. I needed to stop by the house to help mom out with a computer-related project she was working on. It was about 8:30pm and I had not eaten in a while, so I checked the fridge and found a half pack of hot dogs. Just my luck, eh? Interestingly enough, the hot dogs looked very familiar to me (yes, I have a special relationship with hot dogs, deal with it). I was pretty sure I had eaten the first half of the pack, but that was probably October/November. I checked the expiration date...and it was 20 days ago.

Side note: mom and dad have done a shitty job of cleaning out the fridge without me around to eat everything.

To many of you, this wouldn't be much of a decision. Throw those MF'ers away. And to a few of you, you wouldn't even have hot dogs in your possession anyway, so you people don't understand my dilemma either.

I stood there thinking. Thinking. Thinking.

I started to open the package; thought for another moment.

And in the trash they went.

'Tis be a sad day for me. I don't know if it's the fancy West County lifestyle I live. I don't know if it's a health-conscious thing (wait - I had McDonald's two nights ago so that can't be it). And I don't know if it's a "I got money, I can buy some new hot dogs! I'm a man! I'm 27!" thing.

Whatever it is, I can officially be called a sell-out. I shall still eat hot dogs until my dying day. But they better be fresh. They better be delicious. And they better be the expensive brand.

You're Gonna Love My Post

Our favorite douchey pitchman is back, this time plugging the Slap Chop.

What the hell is the Slap Chop? Check it out, and pay close attention right around the 37 second mark:



There are so many other elements of greatness in this video besides Vince wearing an apron, talking about his nuts ("boring tuna", the rising cost of ice cream toppings in America, the over-the-head swoosh into the sink, Slap Chop = we become skinny?, "tacos, freddy-chinni, linguini, martini, bikini", "just bang it", and the traditional special bonus "cuz we can't do this all day" - thanks Vince).

Oh yeah - once again: why the fuck does he wear a headset?

There's a lot to talk about here. Discuss.