Wednesday, June 25, 2008

A Sprinkling For the May Queen

Kelli was nervous. More to the point, she was concerned that someone could figure out WHY she was nervous, and that made her even more nervous. Outwardly though, she was safe because almost no one knew the plot she was a part of. Only one other person in the studio audience knew her secret, and it was her partner in crime. Everyone else would have just thought she was biting her nails because the time had come for the million dollar song.

Wayne Brady had already made some lighthearted but fairly suggestive comments about the beautiful and "top-heavy" blonde. In this respect, she had to admire the plan when it was presented to her. She got their attention for the same reason she got the attention of the show's producers, the same reasons girls with her build always got attention. She'd expressed doubts early on but somehow it had worked just as they'd said and she was onto the final round.

The song she was to be tasked with was Stairway to Heaven. She knew the song but was sure she didn't know the specific words. But then she hadn't known the words of the last four songs either. She shook her head in disbelief at how things were going.

She stumbled her way through the beginning of the million dollar Zeppelin song. It came to the part she was supposed to fill in and, as per usual, she drew a complete blank. Drawing on her drama skills, she crossed her arms and slowly lowered her head, as if seeking an answer. What no one could see was this was exactly what she was doing... visible only to her eyes under her crossed arms a series of words slowly appeared on the screen of her watch, carefully keyed in by the "gentleman" in the last row of the studio. Without lifting her head, she paused and said with a tone of disbelief,

"If there's a bustle... in your headrobe... don't be alarmed now. It's just a ... sprinkling... for the the may queen." The studio fell silent for a very long beat, followed by a tone triumphantly announcing she had won and the game was over, she had conned her share of the million...or so she thought.

In the celebration that ensued and before the host could officially declare her the winner, a random guy from the front row ran on stage to be part of the hugging and the celebration. He was using the foulest language and, inconveniently, a rather loud tone to do it. "Oh shit, that was f---ing unbelievable! You're f---ing amazing!" He jumped around her in circles holding her arms. When the commotion calmed a bit, a booming, faceless voice filled the studio...

"Ummm... we're going to have to do it again."

It was the producer.

She was confused. "Wait... what? What do you mean? I did what I was supposed to... I mean... that's it, right? I won."

More from the ether:

"We can't use that. We'll have to go one more time, and we're having that man taken out of the studio. We can't broadcast that. Don't worry, though, we'll give you the same song, just act like you don't know it."

She was frustrated, but figured this to be only a temporary delay as she tried to get in the frame of mind to act blank one more time.

"Oh, and Kelli?", the voice added... "this time don't cross your arms. We need you to look into the camera, please."

Monday, June 23, 2008

"A plant? I thought men like you were usually called a fruit."

This is a necessary evil post... so I can spy on myself...

Sunday, June 22, 2008

wonder why alternate sports history isn't a section in bookstores.

I wrote this a year or so ago... We got in the discussion of how a Tyson vs. Ali fight might go, so I took a stab at writing up the call of the fight. Was originally posted on the sports forum of the Aantares message board.

With deference to Howard Cosell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as we get ready for the third round tonight at Caesar's Palace in New Jersey we are truly witnessing history. The unstoppable force and the immovable object, in one corner a boxer and in the other corner a fighter. On your one hand you have Muhammad Ali, formerly Cassius Clay, a young man who knows his craft perhaps as well as any who ever placed a foot in the ring and with a heaping helping of the knowledge that he is a pinnacle, premiere pugilist. Standing opposite him, Kid Chaos, a mad bulldog. A freight train with gloves on, young Iron Mike Tyson.

Ali seems to have employed the strategy of largely evading early. Perhaps he is of the opinion that he can tire this young firecracker out, that this controlled explosion must subside over time if he can just last it out. But while Ali has landed the occasional well-timed blow and even rattled the young Tyson once or twice, it's clear that Kid Dynamite's raw power has slowed and staggered Ali, and going into this third round I suspect we'll see Ali perhaps a half-step slower.

There's the bell and out come the fighters. Tyson has all the look of a man on a mission, while Ali stands more a man with a plan. The fighters trade jabs, Ali working mostly to position Tyson and keep the wolf at bay, Tyson trying to work in towards Ali's midsection. Ali took a controversial blow there perhaps after the first bell rang which may have literally been bonecrushing... of course Ali being a consummate we couldn't read much from his expression at the time.

Ali's still got a lot of spring, he's practically challenging Tyson to burn his substantial energy around the ring. Ali says if Tyson's going to get to him he's going to have to earn it. Ali gets Tyson on the run, OH and Ali lands a series of successive rights to the head, Tyson getting caught overpursuing and he pays dearly.

Tyson seems to be sizing up Ali, positioning him and OH, a left right combination to the head, and I'd be surprised at this point if Ali could remember any name for himself. Ali tries to make a show of rebounding and illustrating his trademark speed, but it's clear he met a brick wall. Ali looks to be getting his footing again and OH Tyson caught him across the jaw, and Ali is up against the ropes. He's certainly dazed now. Twelve seconds left in the round, Ali may squeeze by and if he can survive this beating he might be able to last Tyson out. Ali comes off the ropes and Tyson catches him with three solid jabs to that tender midsection... as Ali starts to list, Tyson meets him on the jaw again...Ali is down in a pile...

let's see if, the ref... Mills Lane begins the count.... 5, 6... Ali is getting up to his feet, but it appears he may be back in Louisville already... Mills Lane looks the prize fighter in the eyes... and he's called for the bell, this fight is over. With two seconds left in the third round, we have a TKO here in Atlantic City, Tyson was just too much for Ali to stand. And I think in the end, the discussion on this fight won't even necessarily be the decision to mercifully end it, but that potentially late blow in the end of the first round --- from which we might now say Muhammad Ali may have never fully recovered.

You saw it here, brought to you by the good people at Aantares... Iron Mike Tyson runs over Muhammad Ali in three brutal rounds."

Sunday, June 15, 2008

I'm not a scientist, I don't even play one on TV....

I'm just a regular guy trying to occasionally figure things out...

Thinking about giraffes, which have absurdly long necks and as such can reach higher leaves on trees to munch on...

One notion seems to be there was once just one single cell, then over time that single cell became what is basically a horse by many many many very slow rounds of random mutations that happened to be beneficial such as having two functioning eyes... and even though none of the other beasties had this mutation, it was a great advantage and so that freak beast was otherwise completely healthy except for that one mutation, AND it was a trait that he passed onto the next half-horse thing, which also had only this one change and nothing that would make him weaker... and it was through this slow process of mistakes and getting warped that one cell turned into thousands of identical giraffes.

The other theory is giraffes look like that because one day there weren't giraffes and the next day there were.

Dunno, but to me it's more LOGICAL to figure you started with pretty close to the finished product... and not that everything everywhere is the product of millions upon millions of rounds of good luck and fortune in freak mutated wild creatures living to pass on their problems that are secretly superpowers?