Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Iron Ref: Secret Weapon

This is it. Welcome back to Kitsch-en Stadium for the first of two Semi-Final contests. It turns out they were the two wild cards we brought back for the playoffs, which ensures that purists everywhere will be enraged by the presence of a wild card in the finals. Naturally as a Red Sox fan, that does not bother me in the slightest.

The Secret Ingredient is:
SECRET WEAPON

Just because we have judges this round, doesn't mean you don't have a say in who wins. So make sure to vote for who best used the ingredient in the comment section.

VOTING ENDS WED 6 pm

---------------------------------------------
Lady Andrea
In the sport called "life," there is a secret weapon out there. This secret weapon helped me sneak into courtside seats of a Chicago Bulls game. This secret weapon let me get a prime spot in the Las Vegas Hilton sportsbook during the first weekend of March Madness. This secret weapon got Ted Lilly to stop on Michigan Avenue and chat with me about baseball, and ultimately the Cubs-Cardinals rivalry. And this secret weapon got Matt Morris to toss me his warm-up ball from the St. Louis Cardinals bullpen. With his number written on it.

What is this secret weapon? Breasts. Sweater kittens. The girls. My Wit and my Charm.

Sorry. I know it's grossly unfair to my opponent to pull out the big guns. But as a female sports fan, I've noticed that attention from guys goes boobs first, sports knowledge second. Sure, some guys are immediately dazzled by my analysis of the Bears defense or my knowledge of Albert Pujols' slugging percentage. But more often than not, the first impression is from an eyeful (or several) of my treasure chest. So I thought turnabout is fair play. These are my secret weapons. And either the judges will be swayed by my actual upper deck, or they'll find the humor delightfully ironic.

---------------------------------------------

Scott Sargent



[Audience applause]


Welcome to The Report. So good to have you. Please, sit down. Thank you…

Dropping. The stock market. The national surplus of yesteryear. Your 401K. Everything is dropping. But while all of those things can likely rebound to provide some sort of benefit in the near future, the folks in Cleveland will have to wait a lot longer than that for a turnaround in their dropping. And by that, I mean Braylon Edwards.

You see, while most professional athletes build off of success, others choose not too. Sure, shooting yourself in the leg is pretty embarrassing as it is. But at least Cheddar Burress didn’t commit said act in front of 73,000 fans. Every week.

But while these drops have lead to a disappointing football season for the Cleveland Browns, those paying fans can take pride in one thing: Consumables. Which brings us to tonight’s “Word.”


Sure, Cleveland fans may not exactly get to watch a respectable franchise take the field every week. But the earlier you show up in the morning, the more you get for your money. And while you may not “get” good football, you can get some warm food that you get to share with countless strangers. Chili, hot dogs, even the occasional “tofu burger” for those remaining hippies… You get to eat, drink and be marry. At least until you enter the stadium. Or…

After about an hour wait in a line full of barking, puking, mask-wearing “friends,” you get to partake in the wonderful pigskin pastime of the firearm search. Guys in one line to be searched by males, and the females stand in line with the line backing lesbians at the finish line. Once you successfully prove that you are not packing “heat,” you get to proceed to the escalator.


Yum. I know. But fear not. Once you survive what I like to call the “Ass-Face Express,” your $100 ice cube dressed in orange plastic awaits. There, you can partake in even more perishable items, only at about nine times the price of those that you ingested only hours ago. Here is where you are “helping your economy.”


Not long thereafter, you survive the first half of your town’s favorite game. Barely, thanks to the hope that your team can actually maintain their double-digit lead against a team that they manhandled only a year prior. Based on last year, this should be a no-brainer.


But once that lead starts to dissipate, the only thing between yourself and freedom is last call. With the fourth quarter drawing near, you must load up on the frothy investment that never lets you down, unlike those pesky things like “PSLs” or “Season Tickets.” And when in doubt, you can use that degree from Kent State or wherehaveyou and turn that investment into a secondary use.


Whether it be in response to another Braylon drop, botched clock management or simply a referee making the correct call though not one that you approve of, you can retaliate by throwing any and everything you get your hands on. A shoe. Both shoes. Shin-soo Choo. Throw it. Make those guys run off of the field in fear. At least the game will end early, thus shortening your despair. And fear not. If you must loft your consumables towards the field, I have your back, Browns fans. Woof. Woof.

---------------------------------------------

So there you have it! Make sure to vote in the comments!

30 comments:

Scott @ WFNY said...

somehow, i knew that was what i was up against. for that reason, i avoided all cheerleader pictures...

LadyAndrea said...

Good god, Scott. I thought we were still supposed to regard the word limit. : )

Scott @ WFNY said...

I know, I know. Was a bit wordy, but when I'm up against those, I need to divert attention down the page a bit! Cut me some slack! :)

Dan Parker said...

My blog-loyalty says Scott, but damn, man... I'm voting for Scott with my head turned...

[Carmen Electra] "Homer, my face is up here."

[Homer] "I've made my choice."

LadyAndrea said...

Are people supposed to vote in the comments this time around? I thought there was a mysterious panel of judges instead of commenter voting.

Scott @ WFNY said...

nope...no voting here :)

Patrick Smith said...

I cast two great big motorboatin' votes for Lady A.

DMtShooter said...

The Lady with the Tigers, but only if she promises to call Matt Morris back. The man needs a pick me up.

LadyAndrea said...

Those would actually be Hawkeyes, DMTShooter. : )

Minda said...

Who can argue with boobs? Lady Andrea FTW!

Andy said...

Swayed. Andrea.

Wanda (aka Metschick) said...

There was stuff below the boobs?

LA!

Phony Gwynn said...

She ripped the fuckin' G! How can you not vote for that?

Cinnamon said...

Gotta go with the girls (pun intended) - vote for Lady Andrea.

SA said...

Dude, how can you argue with boobs?

LA is the right answer.

E. Spencer Kyte said...

I vote for Andrea's tits too!

Brad said...

I've dreamt of Andrea's assets for years...she has my vote...

Going Five Hole said...

didnt get past the boobs.


boobs wins

m. Alana said...

Being the possessor of a pair of my own, I really can't deny the power of having a good set of breasteses.es.

Chalk said...

They're not saying BOO, they're saying BOO-OOBS!
Andrea wins in a laugher

JHitts said...

Ironic that "Going Five Hole" votes for boobs.

I think I do too. Guys can't compete with that shit.

rick@waitingfornextyear said...

Wow Scott, as if it wasn't difficult enough going against the secret weapons of mass destruction...your site is down for the count this week. Brutal.

rick@waitingfornextyear said...

I vote for Scott anyways.

J Rose said...

"I'm out!" Scott says, as he slaps his money down on the table, Kramer-style.

Seriously, you go up against those babies with a lengthy Steven Colbert post? Really?

Lady A in a handslide, I mean landslide!

Scott @ WFNY said...

Well, if anything, HHR now has an "Ass-Face Express" tag to put on their mantle...

(That's worth something, right? Right?)

The Professor said...

Rock out with your "Hawks" out...that's what I always say.

Iowa Tailgating, setting the standard.

B.E. Earl said...

Boobs trump everything else. Vote for Andrea.

Tracer Bullet said...

I love Wit and Charm in a woman. And boobs. Great, bouncing, life-sustaining, life-affirming, great-goddamn-reason-to-get-out-of-bed every-morning boobs. Scott, buddy, this was over before it even started.

Townie said...

One for Andrea.

Carlos said...

Andrea by far. And boobs. Big boobs.