Ricky Is Going Curling

It's Saturday morning, which means I'm about ready to start drinking.  Today's adventure?  Yup, curling.  I'm going curling today.  Clearly pregaming while I type this post.  Wish me luck, I'll keep you all posted.

MORTAL KOMBAT!!!

You see this thing?  Tell me you didn't light up like a God damn Christmas tree when you saw this shit.  If you don't know what I'm saying, you're old or suck. You're welcome in advance for how awesome this is.  GET OVER HERE!!! 

Side note, who else thought that they were going to screw?




And while we're being great, the top 10 fatalities of all time.



And, while we're stil being great, the fatalities from the new MK.

Awesomeness Of The Day

Are the Religious prone to Obesity?

Study found regularly attending services was linked to raised risk in middle age

WEDNESDAY, March 23 (HealthDay News) -- New research finds that people who frequently attend religious services are significantly more likely to become obese by the time they reach middle age.

After adjusting their statistics to take into account factors such as race, the researchers found that 32 percent of those who attended services the most became obese by middle age, Feinstein said.

By contrast, only 22 percent of those who attended services the least became obese.

Well, I mean, why not be fat if you're religious?  I mean, you go to heaven with a bunch of gold and virgins when you die, right?  Why not speed up the process?  Listen, I think that when we die, we're just dead.  No golden gates.  No escalator to the top.  No seventy virgins.  None of that bull shit.  But if you're into that stuff, why not be fat while you're down here?  It's heaven man, you're not going to be fat in heaven.  You're going to look awesome and get to play PS3 and hook up with a zillion Mila Kunis's all day.  Fuck it, live it up while you're sacrificing the only good sex you'll ever have premarital sex, booze, and gambling and crap.  Ya know what isn't a sin?  Buffalo Wild Wings, that's what.  So live it up all ye faithful.  Expedite that heart attack.  Live the dream. 

Awesomeness Of The Day

Chris Brown Melts Down After Tough 'Good Morning America' Interview

Here we go again: The kinder, gentler Chris Brown hit a serious snag on his road to redemption today by reportedly flipping out on the set of Good Morning America. His fit of rage was allegedly set off by a series of questions regarding his physical altercation with Rihanna in 2009 (he was later sentenced to anger management classes and community labor in exchange for a guilty plea to assault). According to TMZ, Brown had an off-camera meltdown following his performance and interview with Robin Roberts, smashing a window in his dressing room with a chair and sending shattered glass falling onto the streets of Manhattan. Brown was also shouting so loudly backstage that he scared hair and makeup people and security had to be called.
(http://new.music.yahoo.com/blogs/amplifier/88717/chris-brown-melts-down-after-tough-good-morning-america-interview/)


Damn Chris, get your shit together.  What?  Oh, no, I don't give a shit about you going all crazy after the interview.  But when the hell did you turn in to Dennis Rodman?  Jesus man, you look like shit.  Who the hell told you that those tattoos were a good idea?  Mike Tyson's guy?  Holy hell.  And that hair?  Dude, get your shit together.  Tiger Woods and Dennis Rodman rocked that look.  That's how you're repairing your image?  Come on man.

Awesomeness of the Day

Sumo Wrestler Confirms Everyone's Belief That Anyone Can Run Marathon

Sumo Wrestler Becomes Heaviest Man to Ever Finish Marathon

The heaviest person to ever complete a marathon weighed 275 pounds. Add that weight plus the total weight of a great long-distance runner (about 120 pounds) and you'll get Kelly Gneiting.

Gneiting, a three-time U.S. sumo champion, tipped the scales at 400 pounds when he began Sunday's Los Angeles Marathon. Nine hours, 48 minutes, 52 seconds later he crossed the finish line and set the Guinness World Record for being the heaviest person to ever complete the 26.2-mile race.

The 400-pound American jogged the first eight miles of the race and walked the last 18, often stopping at intersections and stoplights because he was well behind the 13-minute-per-mile pace set by race organizers. He says he became delirious after mile 10 and only realized he hit the 15-mile mark when a friend gave him a clean pair of socks.
(http://sports.yahoo.com/olympics/blog/fourth_place_medal/post/Sumo-wrestler-becomes-heaviest-man-to-ever-finis?urn=oly-wp14)

And there you have it.  A 400 lb. dude walked his way into the record books and completed a marathon.  Confirmation, once and for all, that anyone can run a marathon.  Guess what all of my friends who have ever set out to run a marathon have done?  They've run a marathon.  And I know, I know, it's hard.  It's really friggin' hard on your body.  Ya know what else that would be hard on my body?  Eating 200 pennies, but that doesn't mean I couldn't do it.  I mean, good for all you marathon runners.  It sounds like a lot of fun.  But I'll pass. 

Also, how 'bout this dude, lose some weight.  Instead of being the fattest runner, maybe you can be the guy who lost a few lbs and didn't get diabetes and die.  Just a thought.

Squirrel attacking residents of Vt. neighborhood

BENNINGTON, Vt.—A Vermont neighborhood is being stalked by a renegade gray squirrel.

Several people in Bennington say they've been attacked by a squirrel over the last few weeks.
Kevin McDonald tells the Bennington Banner he was shoveling snow when the squirrel jumped onto him. He says he threw the animal off, but it twice jumped back onto him. A game warden says there have been other reports, too.

One woman is being treated for exposure to rabies, but Vermont Public Health Veterinarian Robert Johnson says there's never been a case of a squirrel passing rabies to a human.

Johnson says it's possible the squirrel was raised as a pet and lost its fear of humans. He says the squirrel might "go ballistic" when it encounters people it doesn't recognize.

Apart from how ridiculous this whole story is, I love the Public Health Vet. Robert Johnson's analysis of this.  "It's possible the squirrel might 'go ballistic' when it encounters people it doesn't recognize," and that "it's possible the squirrel was raised as a pet and has lost its fear of humans."  Dynamite breakdown Doc.  Maybe he's a pet, maybe he doesn't like people, blah blah blah.  Yeah, sure, maybe.  Maybe he's a daemon squirrel.  Maybe it's not a squirrel at all, and really just a super small ninja.  Maybe it's a ghost.  Come on Johnson, get your shit together.  Stop making shit up.

Also, how soft is Vermont?  That's the shit that you're dealing with up there?  Earthquakes are flying all over the place.  The Middle East is a mess.  Sink holes are popping up every other week.  And Vermont's issue is mean squirrels?  Come on Vermont, be better.

Drinking With Ricky: Southie's St. Patrick's Day Parade

This post marks the first in what is sure to be many in a series I am calling "Drinking With Ricky."  And by "many in a series," I mean that I'll probably do spots like this somewhere between zero and a hundred more times.  Could be anything, really.  The idea here is to give people a first hand look at some of Boston's better drinking events by providing something of a running journal of the event.  Today's installment, Drinking With Ricky: Southie's St. Patrick's Day Parade, gives all of you not fortunate enough to be there yourself a look at the shit storm that was yesterday morning/day/afternoon.

8:56 am:  My brother, who hasn't woken up before noon since high school, is bouncing around the apartment like an eight year who just snorted a pixi stick.  I'm in bed, not really feeling it.  Was out day drinking for the games yesterday/last night.  Don't know if I'm up for the parade.

8:59 am:  Fuck it, I'm ready for the parade.  A college budy of mine is having a party at his place on East Broadway.  Perfect.  I's on.

9:15 am: Run over to the gym for a quick workout.  No, not to stem off the effects of a day of drinking whatever I can find and eating pizza from Alfredo's until I fall down.  Have you ever drank right after a workout?  Best kind of drunk.  That's science.

10:48 am:  Showered up.  Make a run to the liquor store.  Not open until noon.  That won't do, can't show up to a party empty handed.  There's gotta be something in my fridge.  I was right.  Fill up a Whole Foods bag with a sixer of PBR, three Busch Lights, one Bud Heavy, four Sam Irish Reds, and two Twisted Teas.  Off to Southie.  Boom.

12:20 pm:  Finally make it to the party.  Not exactly a rager yet, but the potential was there.  Two kegs, two handles of Jameson, and a table that could handle about four hundred flip cup players.  Things are looking good.  My Whole Foods bag of goodies goes over well.  In somewhat of an upset, the Busch Lights went pretty quick.  I'm pretty sure that the Bud Heavy was immediately used as a door stop.  I started with the PBR's.  Three tall boys later, I was on the beruit table.


1:18 pm:  Just lost three games in a row.  That's a new low.

2:00 pm:  The parade is an hour in.  It's nice outside, so I decide to check it out.  Three feet out the door a Storm Trooper throws a green necklace at me.  Didn't see it coming.  Hits me in the neck.  I cough and drop my beer on a girl.  She's not pumped.  She calls me a dick.  I just start yelling, "kill yourself, just fucking kill yourself."  In hindsight, that may have been an overreaction. 


2:11 pm:  A dude throws up on the sidewalk.  The chick who I told to kill herself starts yelling at him, "kill yourself, just fucking kill yourself."  She turns back and says to me "fuck yeah!"  Good.

2:19 pm:  She and I just got destroyed on the beruit table and she tells me to kill myself.

3:30 pm:  I'm hungry.  I go to the kitchen.  There are five cupcakes, two regular pancakes that were made five hours ago and are now in a cereal bowl, and five other  pancakes that are for some reason pink, and are in a different cereal bowl.  I eat all of it.  Believe it or not, I don't regret any of that.


4:05 pm:  Some tall dude comes up to me insisting that he give me money for the kegs.  Mind you, it's not my party and I haven't thrown in any  money for the kegs.  I'm about to say, "don't worry about it dude, I'm just here for the party like you are."  I don't say that.  Rather, I go with "like $5 will be awesome."  Score.

5:00 pm:  Flip cup time.  Dudes vs. Chicks, obviously.  We win the first few games easily.  Then the chicks start mounting a comeback.  Like the seasoned vets we were, we don't bat an eye.  We just keep playing until we're done, and then celebrate like we just won the fucking World Cup.  The girls are so confused that they start to think that we actually won.  Mind fuck achieved.  Dudes a million, chicks zero.




5:45 pm:  Time to get the shit out of there.  My brother shows up with his crew.  We go outside to get a cab.  Surprise, no cabs.  But then a short bus starts rolling down the street, blasting top-40 music like it's going out of style.  Driver opens the door and says, "goin' Boston?, $10 each, round up, round up!"  Confused and drunk, I say we'll give him $7 or call the cops.  Yeah, I know that doesn't make any sense, but it was my move at the time.  He shakes his head and starts to shut the door.  I throw my leg in there, figuring that would slow him down.  He kept driving.  I take a digger.  I'm a little confused.  But he stops again, we get on the bus.  I don't really know what happened, but I'm on the bus.  He starts blasting "Fuck You."  Everyone is singing.  But the song keeps skipping.  Doesn't slow us down.  We just keep yelling "FUCK YOU" like it's our job.  A dad with his young daughter tell us to stop.  I did not see him until then.  That's what he gets for hopping on a gypsy bus.  The bus drops off somewhere in the North End.  I live in Fenway.  I have a ways to go.  I stumble around looking for a cab.  Again, no cabs.  Green Line time.  Gross.

6:10:  Finally catch a E train to get me to the Symphony stop.  Golden.  I sit down next to an old Asian women who immediately gets up when I sit down.  Good call out of her.  The odds on me puking on her were even.  Jokes on her though, didn't puke AT ALL!  Make my stop.  Go to Whole Foods.  Buy ice cream and a coffee cake.  Eat them both when I get home.  Pass out.  Wake up 14 hours later and go to work.  No shower.  Championship.

Happy St. Patrick's Day kids.  Until next time, this was drinking with Ricky.

Awesomeness of the Day

Top Ten Fictional Athletes Of All Time

We did 6-10, with a few upsets in there.  Now, 1-5.  Boom goes the dynamite.

5. Kenny Powers - I'm the man who has the ball. I'm the man who can throw it faster than fuck. So that is why I am better than everyone in the world. Kiss my ass and suck my dick... everyone.


4. Happy Gilmore - Another multi sport superstar.  Ok, yeah, you're right, he wasn't that good at hockey.  But he could skate, which is more than you can do, you fucking naysayer.  Also, he tried to murder a dude with his skate in junior hockey.  That's some MMA shit right there.   You little son of a bitch ball! Why you don't you just go HOME? That's your HOME! Are you too good for your HOME? ANSWER ME! SUCK MY WHITE ASS, BALL!


3. Crash Davis - Here is is people, your Bull Durham love.  He hit like three thousand minor leauge homeruns, and played 21 days in the majors.  That's some dedication, kid.  And he was banging Susan Sarandon before Mother Lover made it cool.


2. Ricky Vaughn - Yeah, I get it, the whole Charlie Sheen was here and gone faster than the XFL, but this isn't about Sheen.  Vaughn was the man.  He was that crazy relief pitcher before we had the crazy relief pitcher.  I may even go as far to say, he made Brian Wilson.  Fact!


1. Rocky Balboa - It's not even close