Fergalicious definition make the boys go loco

So, it's been a little while since I checked in. Not a shit-ton of things going on really, but I'll bore y'all to death with my random thoughts none the less. Coming up after the jump: Brett Favre, Step Brothers, Eureka, Weeds, Baseball's playoff race, and Lollapalooza.
As most people who know me probably already know, I've never been much of a Brett Favre fan. The guy has always been completely reckless in his decision making on the football field, has one of the desert island all time top 5 egos in the history of professional sports, and over the past handful of years with regards to his retirement, he's handled himself, as Rick Reilly brilliantly pointed out, more like Cher than Jordan or Clemens or any other oft-retired superstar. I watched this unfold for weeks heaping praise on the Packers' front office constantly for finally recognizing the parasite that is Brett Favre. It's too bad they're every bit the weasels he is. Meanwhile, Aaron Rodgers has already convinced me of his poise under pressure 100-fold. Here's hoping this "open competition" (AKA this horrific mistreatment of Aaron "The Green Bay Packers organization must move on" Rodgers) spells the beginning of a massive humiliation for Brett and the Pack. It's only just.

I spent last weekend in the even-in-stifling-heat-Windier-than-New-York-City with my Mother's entire side of my family celebrating my great aunt's 95th birthday, with a notable pre-family excursion into the insanely pot-scented mass of humanity that was Radiohead's crowd at Lollapalooza. A combined result of my being dehydrated, our flights not landing till after 4, and a lack of overt desire to see anyone else playing at the end of night 1, we only witnessed Radiohead's set, but let's be honest...there wasn't shit else to witness anyway. Even from about 50,000 people deep in the crowd, with absolutely no view of the stage save for on massive (and very well-programmed) video screens to either side of it, they were every bit the crowdpleasers I had last seen 7 years prior.

Saw Step Brothers yesterday. Utterly fucking hysterical. Easily my favorite Ferrell starring vehicle since Old School. If it was music, it would be like Fergie crossed with Jesus.

By way of a PSA: If you haven't ever seen Eureka, you don't know what's good about television, about Sci-Fi (genre AND network) or about life. Usually when I make a statement like this, it's because I'm trying to do my part to save a beloved, underappreciated gem like Arrested Development or Veronica Mars, and usually, you all ignore me until it's already cancelled, at which point you watch the DVDs and proceed to walk through life with an immense sense of guilt for having blown off my advice when you know as well as I do that I know what quality entertainment looks and sounds like. This is not that situation. Eureka doesn't need your lazy asses, and neither do I. It's a massive hit for the Sci Fi network and it ain't goin anywhere. No, you need Eureka, and if you don't believe me, take the challenge and try to watch two episodes of it without getting hooked. I dare you.

I simply refuse to believe that the recent pickup of Weeds for 3 seasons beyond this one doesn't signal the show's inevitable decline. So much of that show's tension, which, despite all its laughs, is what brings the masses back week after week, comes from the idea that Nancy and her ever-shrinking wardrobe are just one false step away from taking a bullet in the head. Good luck convincing me of that when I know you've got 40 episodes left on order from Showtime. But then again, i thought they had painted themselves into a corner introducing the DEA storyline at the end of season 1, so I'm clearly a fuckin fool.

I'm still pretty convinced that the lack of activity in the NL East at the trade deadline was perhaps even more beneficial to the Phils than any individual move they could have made to bolster the club. While all three teams obviously have severe flaws, the Phils still bring more balance to the table than either the Mets or Marlins, no matter how you slice it. They're younger than the Mets, older than the Marlins, have every bit the powerhouse offense of Florida, albeit every bit as reliant on the longball as Florida, with more depth behind Cole than the Mets have behind Santana, and a massive and undeniable advantage in the bullpen. Since the deadline passed, the Marlins and Mets both lost uninspired, low-scoring series marked by mental errors and shoddy situational hitting against vastly inferior competition, while the Phils took 2/3 on the road from the playoff-contending Cardinals, despite one of Cole's worst performances of the year, and behind incredibly encouraging lights-out performances from Myers and Blanton, who seemed to feel the spectre of J.A. Happ looming over their tenuous spots in the rotation. Even at this stage of the season there's a lot of baseball yet to play and it's a humbling enough game for me to wind up lookin like a fuckin fool, but with StandPat Gillick doing his usual routine at the deadline, it's fair to assume that what we've seen all year resembles what we'll see in the next several weeks. So I'm officially ready to make this proclamation: there's simply nothing which should stop the Phillies from returning to postseason baseball except for themselves. Anything short of being swept by the obviously superior Brewers in the first round will be an out and out failure.

Finally, I've been making good on the proclamation which I made in this blog's initial post, having enacted plans to reconnect with all manner of old friend. Having seen and had a lovely time with Ms. Sharkey, similar plans are in the offing with such characters as Texas, Fishhead, and Miriam, seeing all of whom should be delightful. And with that, I bid thee adieu.