I don't know who this is targeted towards

but if they're after the lower middle (upper lower?) class white family market, count us in.



Maybe it's not such a successful commercial. I assumed it was selling international calling cards, to be honest. But it is remarkably watchable. Note the sly Three Amigos reference.

Parking Garages? We Don't Need No Stinking Parking Garages!

There's a little brouhaha brewing in Sevierville. To build a parking garage, or not to build? That is but one of the questions. Who pays? How? Where? When? Why? And why do we have to tear down established businesses to do so when there are loads of decayed and decrepit vacancies abounding?

It's a conundrum wrapped up in a riddle floating on a sea of mystery.

Or something like that.

But, citizens of Sevier County, I am here to tell you the truth. We don't need a downtown parking garage. We don't need a Central Business Investment District. What we need, friends and neighbors, is a Major League Soccer team.

Real Sevierville. FC Seevurrsville. CD de Greater Sevierville. SPORTING Sevierville.

Let it grow on you.

MLS plans to have 16 teams in 2010, and possibly 18 by 2012. Sevierville, Sevier County - 2016 is our year. We built that ballpark, and they did come. We built that convention center - excuse me! Events Center - and they are coming, even *without* liquor by the drink. All we need is approximately 50 empty acres (old landfill perhaps???) and some positive thinking. Beer is your basic soccer fan's beverage du choix - already available by the case and by the drink. Weather is good for the MLS March to November season. Lots of people come here anyway - why should we deprive them of the chance to enjoy some soccer while they're here?


C'mon, Sevierville! Where there's a will there's a way!

Like Jozy Altidore says...

Ain't That a Kick in the Pants.

Dema Kovalenko, the man who could not be two months without the soccer, has been traded away to Real Salt Lake.


Why didn't they run this by me first?














I miss you already.

Will This Hellish Winter Never End?!?

It's snowing.


Not good snow. Wet, messy, never-gonna-lay snow.

And it's raining, too, when it's not snowing. 38 degrees. Dark. Dreary. Depressing.

So, I found a little mental go-around.

The party just started...

We Climbed From The Depths of Hell Unscathèd

Thanks, Rancid.

And no, it wasn't really Hell, and we didn't climb from the depths, fer sure. We kind of floundered in the middle. And on the sides, at least in the back. USA 2, Mexico 2. We didn't play that well, but it was an education in gamesmanship for the five U-23 players who will be starting Olympic qualifying shortly.

At least nobody got shot. Well, only two people. And it's possibly just random Houston violence, not soccer-specific hooliganism.

The Good: the jerseys are not as butt-ugly as I thought, although being on Clint Dempsey helps a lot; the crowd - I don't care if they were mostly viva-ing Mexico, it was good to hear some noise; the little dust-up between Tim Howard and Antonio de Nigris - obviously, this was not just a friendly.




Look! Angry Timmy!


The Bad: Bobby Convey (or Convay, as the announcers said) - wow. just wow. slow and stupid has a new poster child; the fact that ESPN did a 30 At 30, when the game had been on less than 10 minutes!!!; an Eastern time zone actual start time of 9:25 - can we all get with the central time zone please?

The Meh: the ESPN love, which maybe is a natural outgrowth of the writer's strike and thus a fluke OR is preamble to the Beckham media circle jerk to come. (pun unintended)



The Starting XI. Two amusing things about this photo: Bobby Convey in last year's cool kid shoes (slow AND stupid!) and Timmy on his tippy-toes so he measures up to Gooch.

Seventh Sign of the Apocalypse: Fulham win?! Wtf?

Sometimes it's hard to be Clint Dempsey.

Englishter elbows. LSU balls. Repeated face-first introductions to Mr. Turf. A disturbing lack of sun and taco trucks.

On Sunday, February 3rd 2008 it was good to be Clint, but it was better to be a Fulham fan. The return to form of Jimmy Bullard, exemplifying the adage looks aren't everything. Brian McBride subbing in for a 20 minute work out. The first goal scored since January 8th (too bad it was for Villa!). Two more goals scored and the lead held until the final whistle. Everybody looked lively and interested. Big ups, dudes.

USA v. Mexico Wednesday!

Hope that's enough time for Mostest to rest up. I need to rest up too - the Stupor Bowl sucked me in at the last minute (big ups, Eli!) and then there was the new! episode of House after... And I'm taking the Austinator to see UT play Florida tomorrow night in Knoxville, and the tip off's not until 9. PM!

Bring on the Diet Pepsi.

Two Amazing Soccer Stories!

Brad to Aston Villa?

How does he get a work permit? Lucy, you got some 'splainin to do.

**update. He didn't.

And you also need to 'splain these butt-ugly new USMNT jerseys.

Ick.

I predict a riot.

Seriously.


I mean, how can you play serious soccer in LAST year's Tommy Hilfiger?

I am almost anticipating Helluary (tm)

New Jack Johnson out.


I feel warmer already.

A Study in Contrasts

Good Americans.


















Bad Americans.














Players good, money bad.

Or is that players tolerated, money detested?

U to the N to the I-T-Y, people!

Battle of the The Bs

Well, not all the players were B teamers, but don't expect to see many of these faces next month for the Ruckus at Reliant February 6th. Anyway, Team U! S! A! defeats Sweden 2-0.

It was a good game. Landon Donovan put them ugly boots to good use and broke (another) record - 35 career goals. And still just 25. This kid could go places.

Eddie Robinson scores his first goal in his first ever game. I think there was another kid named Eddie who did something like that and now he's playing for Fulham! Mr. Inconsistency, meet Team Mediocre. Let's hope Eddie R stays with MLS.

Curious thing about the photo: the apparent lack of love for Taylor Twellman. Is he the Odd Man Out? Is he on his way out? Stay tuned.

p.s. apologies for the lack of timeliness. Work sucks.

Yin and Yang and the News Today

Rancid are back in the studio.

Most excellent and welcome news because the whole B and C Side thing did not do much for me. Tour to follow?

That's the yang.


Here's the yin: Fulham, determined to conquer the hip hop demographic, is chasing Eddie Johnson.


Yes.

Eddie Johnson. The Pride of Bunnell, Florida. In 2004, he scored his very first international goal in his very first appearance - a World Cup qualifer game, to boot. Scored a hat trick in his next international appearance. Only MLS player to score back to back (or is that game to game?) hat tricks. Ever. But we've been fooled before by Eddie's Potential. In 2005. 2006. Part of 2007. Some players' form takes a few games off. Eddie's evaporates for whole seasons.


Well, I hate to say it, but it could be worse.

It could have been Twellman.

Baby Needs a New Pair of Shoes

Well, actually, Baby just needs to get out of the freakin' house.

It's January, peeps. And while it's currently 73 degrees with the sweet sweet sunshine, it's 40 below in my bored old soul. And February. The wise and philosophizin' GWSF say this: fuck February! February can suck my dick! Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Henry Rollins is coming to Knoxville. Tix are reasonable until one starts adding in the ticketbastard charges, the dinner out and, worst of all, the intangible cost of Taking The Husband. I'm quite sure he would hate it, him being a little more Red State (and redneck) than I. But could I go with someone - say, my daughter? - who might actually enjoy it? Nooooooooooo. It would either (in his imagination) be a) some kind of Girls Gone Wild hooternanny or b) be oodles of fun that he missed out on. Maybe that's the same thing. But anyway, he'd insist on coming and I'd have to listen to him bitch.

But look! Metro Pulse is having a contest!

And I'm feeling lucky.

The Rain In Sevierville Falls Gently on the ...

My dog woke me up early this morning. Well, early for a Sunday anyway. We went out for our constitutional and it was pissing down rain, cold, and dreary. My feet got wet, my newspaper got wet, and the dog got wet. If you know your Jimmy Buffett, you could say my fin was sinking low big time. When we got back in, I asked myself 'what can I do now to increase the depths of my misery?'

And the answer: watch pissy Englishter Premier League soccer. Specifically, Derby versus Blackburn. The first half was scoreless and boring. I had hopes of seeing Benny Feilhaber (a/k/a Little Mostest, who bears a pronounced likeness to Brad Pitt circa Thelma and Louise). He didn't play. In fact, of the eleven men Derby had out there, Eddie Lewis appeared to be the only one actually playing the game. The rest of the team was out there making Fulham look good.

The second half started and in comes Benito. Derby score! A lead! Derby has a lead for the first time since like ... ever. Then they get the benefit of a pk call! They could double their lead!

Brad Friedel once was a goalkeeping god. Today he was not. He got lucky. Twice. Saved the pk, but didn't hang on to it. Derby stood there disbelieving, and instead of attacking the freaking ball that was bouncing away from Brad, they allowed him to crab crawl over to get it. Not long after, Blackburn scored. And then they scored again.

Benny had some good touches. And a lot of bad ones, like everybody else in a Derby shirt. More playing time, I think he'll be aight.

At Least I Didn't Have to Watch It

Fulham 1, Spurs ... 5.

Sigh.

Mr. Clinton Dempsey provides the Whites (who are, in a testament to pissy Englishterness , in red) the lone goal.

Here's hoping the new boss can keep them off Relegation Row.

Or that The Mostest From Nacogdoches finds a new team.

Informed, Organized and Catalogued.

That's how I like my Year Ends.

Second best part of this holiday season? The lists. The Best-ofs, the Top Tens, the Year-ins. I like to see what I missed, I like to see what I was cool enough to be in on. Cool, of course, being a relative term. As is "in on" - I think in most cases, with me, it's more like "happened by the most impossible set of circumstances to find quite blindly." But the lists, they are succinct and tidy; thus, by association, am I.

So, I found one or two here at Time's 2007 Pop Culture compendium. They also have lists in News, Arts & Entertainment, Science and Business. Like Lay's potato chips, I bet you can't read just one. The 10 Buzzwords gave me a name and a mission: freegan. I will never be a vegan, and I'll never dumpster dive for food, but I will do my best to shun mainstream consumerism. I like stuff, but it's taking over my life, the acquiring, the tending and the throwing away. The water cycle of material goods, if you will. It's food for thought. And that - the year ahead - is where my thoughts are at when they're not seized with sweaty-palmed panic over Christmas and all the doings. I want next year to be a great one, so maybe, just maybe if I plan a little, plot an outline - even if it's just in pencil, not stone - I can help that happen.

Food for thought.

And with that, I am outta here until after Christmas.

Happy Holidays, peeps!

It Wouldn't Be Christmas

Without kitsch. Patrick Star, you ARE my hero.

Filling The Void

with more bs.

I have nothing to write about. Not one iota of inspiration. Not one scrap of an idea. Not one morsel of information with which to litter the cyber-verse. MLS is dormant. Fulham, even with Mostest, is just not that fun to watch. There's not a whole lot of music happenings during the Christmas season other than caroling, and that's not going to feed my entertainment jones. My kids aren't doing anything cute. Well, "cute" in the adorable sense, not in the smart-assed teenage antics sense. Antic-ing may very well be taking place. I don't want to know.

But just when things seem dreariest, just when I think it can't get any darker and there is no light at the end of the long tunnel of same-ness and quasi-winter I have fallen into, along comes a little Christmas miracle.

Bless you, Giorgio Armani.

Just in Case You Wondered

Color me impressed!

Thanksgiving 2007

I made it! For real! And it was tasty!

Could have used a scoop of vanilla ice cream, but very very tasty.

Anyway, I want to give thanks for the fact that I only had to say the words "fat dripper" once this year.

See, it's high school come back to haint me. I took home ec the unfortunate year I was a freshman and my sister was a senior. We had a quiz on the names of various kitchen implements. I did not know the term "baster", but I knew it's purpose. Hence, "fat dripper."

I am calling a moratorium on all the various labels I have placed on my children and will hereafter do my utmost not to make them repeat embarrassing stories.

Otherwise, Turkey Day was fab.

Hope yours was too.

p.s. I am also thankful for anybody who ever reads this exercise in egotism. Because like Opal said in Because of Winn-Dixie, music (or, rambling in cyberspace) is better if someone's listening.

The Nelson Mandela Cup

We won it.

And closed out our national soccer year.

It wasn't a great game, as they go, but the pickings are slim here as the MLS season ends. Mostest had some moments, Freddy had one wtf moment - the bad kind - and who knew Steve Cherundolo could score?Soccer players. They come in all sizes.