Nightmare on Herbstreit V: Football Sculpting with Michelangelo and Chubbs

by Idaho Chubbs

Whenever I'm in the city of Boston, the foul smells take me back to the time I resided in Florence, and happy Nostalgia floods my cerebellum. This happens because it was the first and coolest city I've ever lived in. I was there to craft my skills as an artist at Lorenzo de Medici's patron school. I met a young man by the name of "Brody" Buanarroti whose creative skill was unmatched, and we became fast friends. He introduced me to the seductive club scene of ANDROMEDA and SPACE ELECTRONICA. And I introduced him to Brodarian Rules College Football and Project Runway. Are we soul-mates or what? Speaking of Runway, where has Oregon uniform highlights been lately? Since we were in 15th Century Firenze it was quite a Herculean task to stay up-to-date with scores and highlights.  Thank the good gods for my "delorean-time travel application" on my iphone!

The SSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRR!!!! Award goes to the top three teams in the country. Yay, you can all play really gooooood defense but you can't score worth a pigeon's droppings on The Piazza della Signoria. Alabama 20, South Carolina 6 / Texas 16, Oklahoma 13 (gross, nice knowing you Bradford, but I am pleased to have a little more crushed shoulder bone in my BYU Bradford Panini). Florida 16, Arkansas 13 --- EWWWW, GROSSSS!!!---The Gators are the new 2001 Ravens, except Baltimore had a QB who could pass, never won a Heisman Trophy, and never helped Gabriel Battistuta (He's so dreamy-- and INTENSE)  build housing for the under-priviledged children in war-torn Shelter Island. Did anyone see the Arkansas QB Ryan Mallet!? Holy Hercules and Cacus! He is the QB version of Mordrid's Minotaur!!! He makes Colossus look like me...compared to Colossus. While Tim Tebow is working at a nursing home and building construction paper huts for underpriviliged demons in Hades, Mallet will be winning five Super Bowls a year.

Speaking of Badinelli's aforementioned sculpture the USC Brodys defeated The Notre Dame Fighting "Maybe Brodys Some Time Soon?" for about the eighth time in row. Like Brody Buanarroti points out, not only does this sculpture capture the complete essence of the relationship between these two football teams, it was also the pose that Badinelli (Caucus) struck with Donatello (Hercules) in a pic from last weekend when we all danced up a frenzy at club "Dolce Zucchero" (you can see more pics on Lorenzo's facebook page).  Despite the win I still think the Trojans are kind of disgusting and have they no players that can run Usain Bolt 40 times anymore? What gives? Will we ever see Gale Sayers/undergraduate Reggie Bush again?

Well, that's it from Buanarroti and me, we have to go meet with some guy named DAVID so Brody can do some mock-up sketches for a new sculpture he's working on. And then I have to travel forward through time this afternoon to present day Boston so I can reminisce about what I just experienced in the past.....AGAIN---ZUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!

Gosling Defeats Boston (Happy Halloween Microsoft Heath)

(DEAD MAN'S BONES Concert Review)

by Idaho Chubbs

Speed kills...and I like it. I came down to Hades for a really good show tonight, and boy did the shrill siren song of elementary school vocals SLAY. "Whoa oh oh, whoa oh oh" (sing-song) "Little shop, little shop of horrors, bop shoo bop, you'll never stop the terror" (sing-song).....It's amusing seeing a world famous celebrity play a venue that "The Throwbacks" have played a million times before. The blinding light of painful joy shined down on me as I strode to the bar to pick up a Nectar. Avast yee Britney! flirted yea hostile with me as I tried to procure the savory liquid. I (Chubbs) brushed against her Exeter material t-shirt and cast her aside not realizing her flirtation. As the Nectar flew to my parched throat I realized she was most fetching and was attempting to (in the fleet of a Clausen's mind-eye) gain my attention. My bearded cheek bones (filled with granite Kevlar) paid no mind, but my gleeful ego was born anew for a brief moment….and then it was gone. I recovered by seeing Jezebel's smile and settled in to the froth of the crowd. The whole night seemed like an obtuse dichotomy that swept me into a Halloween coma; yet made me sure that I was not doing enough in life. Seeing "Half Nelson" a first down away from me, made realize that I really needed an Oscar nomination to experiment and have strangers cheer for my indulgences. The sound was the quality of Sloor and there were many humans that did not appreciate the soulful mix of dark depression + The Mickey Mouse Club. But the music was fun and raw. I danced, I sang, I shifted my hips into Cha-terunga pose. I even found a lavatory in Hades that catered to me. Art is an anomaly, and as my bevy of Britneys waited for Gosling to show afterwards (even though they didn't care?); I realized that we all have to become famous...just a little bit. We all have to pay our dues in Sloor dance troops and find our way into Space Mountain's production of "Remember The Titans". Then....andddd...only then can we cross into the realm of success and be independently (film, music, writing, art) happy. "You'll be a dennntisttt--you'll be a dentist--you'll have the TALENT for causing people PAIN---PAIN!!!" (sing-song)

Nightmare on Herbstreit IV: Tebow: An Old Friend

by King Brody

There once was a man named Charlie,
Drinking he was good at hardly.
Living in Mass, he once taught a class,
But now he imbibes like an ass.

October had started with nary a noise,
But lately these pills had challenged my poise.
And watching "The Hills" all alone under covers
Caused all of my friends (even his brothers!)
To call out loudly to all of our lovers:
"This guy on this blog has one giant schlong!
Hey Michigan guy, pass me that bong!"


Atomic attacks, there have been two. Too many? I say no. For tonight in Smithtown a third should have been ordered. Like a missing cover letter from an Epsco application, a nuclear warhead failed to land at Ants Marching's (a DMB tribute band) latest performance. Electric issues aside, this sonic abortion rendered all in attendance deaf with rage, especially those of us attempting to watch four college football games and USA v. Honduras highlights on ESPN News HD. Imagine a Kappa Sig party but with more baseball hats and yeast infections. I tried to watch SNL with no audio, something I attempted 8 years earlier at an adjacent bar, but Drew made me question my universal attraction to females. This time she wasn't fake-marrying Tom Green, instead she was Justin-not Jake-(Long)-carrying a vomit show.
Back to the games: The Buffalo's will soldier on after this week, the Rebels (Ole Miss) are without a cause, and fuck you BC, VA Tech just spanked you INSIDE your ass! Alabama? You're not that good. At all. You are a 1990's NFC East team without an all-time great back or Lawrence Taylor.
Tebow won't win the Heisman, but his boy JC will: Jimmy Clausen.

Ha! Pog.

by King Brody

Cool drenched dreams and a night with the Fantastiks! Five o'clock came early Friday, travel north, travel north! To TV and ale and mostly Italian women! 'Tis to the Great American Sports Bar we journey; prepare to sit alone and stare. Good seats are still available. Baseball's on tap and no one cares more than our strapping hero. Japanese engineering gets him there quicker, hurry up unsuspecting women and swallow down your liquor. He's coming, he's closer, he's wetting his hair. He jumps, he claps, he stares with foul rotten eyes. "The Fountainhead's my bible," he roared, "Yankees win, Yankees win. C'mon Sox I'll be here waiting."
College football recap to come.

King Brody, Tesla fallout, 1645

by King Brody

Following an uproarious dinner celebrating Michigan State's victory over Penn in the 1978 Final Four with John Smith, T2000, Larry Bird, Johnny Bench, and Red Grange, King, after imbibing too much homemade hooch and Nectar, decided to tell a recently penned joke involving three of his friends. Having just seen Irving "Magic" Johnson dominate Ivy League two guards half his size for forty minutes, Brody concocted an off color joke so delicious it had to be told post haste. However, unbeknownst to King, Tesla was standing right behind him (donning a Katzenmoyer jersey of course) when he asked the members of his table, "What do AZT, Rasputin, and Tesla have in common? Puzzled, Larry Bird quipped aloud, "What's AZT?" to which King responded "Sshhhh!" Sensing an inappropriate, room-clearing punchline, the remaining members of King's table hurriedly dispersed without being noticed. King's attention had momentarily been shifted to his ringing iPhone which was blaring the latest Dead Man's Bones single "Almost Kate Hudson." On the other line was Princess Di (who King had begun referring to in certain circles as "Princess Dead") and King decided not to answer; instead he revealed to his now empty table that he was working on putting together a Ryan Gosling tribute band tentatively called "Where's my nomination?" With only Tesla listening, King now uttered the answer to his previous query. "They only work on black Magic!" Tesla instantly decried, "I am a man of science, not magic!" King responded by throwing a Hutch football at Tesla's temple, resulting in Tesla summoning his black magic powers to revive himself. The Hutch, a gift given to King by Farrah Fawcett on her wedding day, landed in the diving outstretched arms of a late arriving Al Toon. When he came to, Tesla remarked, "Where's my Vrabel jersey?"

Time Travel Reminisces (with Idaho & King)

“The Minotaur Affair”

By Idaho Chubbs

"We'll make great pets, we'll make great pets, we'll make great pets, we'll make great pets." The Minotaur would never resort to such indulgent musings. We would strictly be sexually organic carbs for him to feast upon. Brody meat is so outrageously expensive at Whole Foods. Sloor is a lot cheaper of course, which you can get at any Safeway, Vons, Finast…even Ralph's. Hmmm…I could really use some Glob right now; that would really make me happy. “Prince, can you and The Mighty Doorock procure some for me? Splendid!!! Ahhh but I digress…much; fear not my fair Colossus! Do not be jealous of the Minotaur’s prowess for flesh eating and maze jumping, for you can surely best him in deep-dish pizza consumption, epic story-telling and guitar slaying. So rest your weary cubiclean bones my brethren and settle in for an excerpt from some time travel delight and wonder about The Minotaur and Mordrid, the wicked wizard who put us asunder. …or rather, the opposite of that.
6th Century A.D. Britain: I had developed a not so private relationship with Mordrid's ex-girlfriend Clytemnestra during our elongated visit in Camelot. King and Prince were there doing research for Tesla, but I was just along for the ride so I had free time to pursue some extracurricular activity. We made a good wage by serving as the band for King Oothur (Arthur's father) and his high court. Even when Brody and Tebow had finished their work, I had no intention of leaving right away due to my wonder-lust. Mordrid had never gotten over his ex. The evil wizard uncovered our love and despite Merlin and Arthur's help, he was able convert our souls (by sprinkling fermented Nectar dust over our eyes) into the great form of the lusty wench Heidi from the hit show THE HILLS (Merlin loves Audrina) and dispatched this lithe creature into the Minotaur's realm to be devoured in every possible way imaginable. The only reason we survived was because T2000 seduced Merlin (going all cylon #6 on him) as his ex, got our where-abouts, and rescued us last minute. We got cured by Merlin and all four of us returned to the 1920s where we are all, obviously, in therapy now; splitting time with Freud and Jung. Ugh, it will be a while before the guys forgive me for that one.


“Wormholes, Phone-booths, Res Geste, Oh My!" - A Response to Idaho.

By King Brody

Lest you forget IC, you fully redeemed yourself by bribing T2000 with the first batch of Brody nectar (c.1986), a game-worn Gretzky jersey from the '83 Stanley Cup (Isles sweep btw, suck it Wayne), and a one night stand with Mordrid. T was so pleased he allowed you to borrow the phone booth from Bill and Ted and the wormhole from Donnie Darko. Your selflessness prevailed Chubbs, and you bestowed both time travel vessels on your partners in crime. Teebs chose the booth and, for reasons still deemed to puzzling to figure, traveled back to Temecula, California 1993-94 and took the form of a wiry, long haired, obnoxious lacrosse player. For two years he dominated the scene becoming somewhat of a local sensation. Local press clippings from the time reveal that he was desired by both men, women, and machine, and had little regard for the opposition and the English language. "I just find holes in the defense and put in in real quick" was the lone quote attributed to Tebow at this time, found in a leather bound tome entitled Res Geste. My wormhole journey was much more riveting, for I ended up in Coram, 1985, helping the future President of the Galaxy design construction paper collages depicting various battle scenes from video games and television shows about video games. He taught me everything I needed to know, from Caleco Vision to Don Mattingly to why he was always wearing a Tony Dorsett jersey. This meeting provided me with all the knowledge I needed to bring Og Thor to his knees the next time we do battle. Plus, I can now show my many amigos how to artfully depict the famous battle between Mario and Donkey Kong Junior.

Nightmare on Herbstreit (Brodys 21, Sloors 20)

by Idaho Chubbs

It was a sallow orange rainbow that permeated my being, that beautiful yellow deliciousness gave my mind peace when I saw that majestic sunset that sweet early evening. I had just embarked on a journey with my best brody Peter. Catching fish was our main game. We didn't care about SPORTS talk, spirituality or suicide. We caught bass, salmon, sword-fish, tuna, dolphin, everything. The next day JC took us away from all at.

Five years later: Jesus Christ said to me, "Idaho, you're friend Peter seems like a total flake." I said, Jesus, "He is a total flake but the dude has totally gotten into college football, which is a distraction. I mean, why do you think he couldn't totally walk to you on water?" JC had no clue. I said, because he was nervous about the Miami/Oklahoma game! Christ understood and gave me his Vegas bets for the next weekend. I said, "YOU, YAWEH like Miami again?" He said, "Idaho I fucking designed "THE "U""annnnd Jacory's hair is my Brian Bozzworth wet dream. CHE-CHE-CHE-CHEMONA!!!!!!

Michigan lost! Is Forcier for real? The Fighting Irish escaped another well fought match in overtime. It was probably one of the best college football games ever but it didn't even distract King from doing his daily crunches (did I mention he can do a thousand now?). Apparently Casey Clausen is the new JC; but Jesus begs to differ. FUCKING BRODY dreads rule my life with that orange and dark aqua.....MIIIIAAAAMIIII!!! squeaked the win over Dirty Laundry Jones. This basically happened because Laundry had a cheesy stash go-t combo and Jacory's hair made JC jealous. Apparently my boy Barkely (USC QB) nursed his injury with an Olsen twin and AKON. My friend Heath doesn't really recommend that. Jahvid Best...isn't...at all. Goodbye liberal Bears, Cal disappoints again. Alabama is a mirage and will be exposed Sooner or Locker (dude that penalty last year was fucking bullshit)...there goes my brain (Ryan Gosling can you just for once disappoint my girlfriend Jezebel?) Gosling you motherfucker, I'm better looking than you, just lacking that Oscar nod. "That just made 'my list of things to do' today". OR....a Heisman Trophy. JC's hoping for Jacory. Mary Magdelene told me, "You see Jesus's Jacory hair? I his LAST TEMPTATION.............DAFOE THRUSTS!!!

WELCOME!

by Idaho Chubbs

In a realm before existence existed, before GOD/Zeus/Pac-Man Jones (he/she/it/me/you hasn't always been there. Wrap your mind around THAT!) knew how to burp up their mother's milk (no Frusciante intended). Before caffeine was used as a stimulant, before cocaine was unhealthy, before Otto Von Bismark made scars stylish in Prussia, before King Tutt's Facebook page, before Hades, before Olympus, before a world full of regret, happiness, depression, uncertainty, stock-brokers, rock-stars, artists, fun times in the Middle-East, and ponzi-scheme martyrs, there were....THE UNFORTUNATES! Deloreans solve so many existential problems in-betted in the every day psyche. We are not unstuck in time like our "unfortunate" amigo Billy Pilgrim. We, Prince Tebow, King Brody, Idaho Chubbs and our other Bard alumni have a choice to change our destiny and YOURS. Like my good friend Thomas (Voltaire's formidable understudy) once told me, "I have known joy in peculiar moments, unearned and sudden." Such is life and such is time travel. Come join this merry band of Misfits of Science (Courtney Cox is a cougar NOW?) as we traverse the literary fiction/Nectar-soaked/multi-dimension-space-time-continuum, sharing our trials, tribulations, love of college football, self suicide, political assassinations of the extreme left and right (let's kill the middle too for kicks) and Bergman films made out of Lego construction paper sadness; playing our brand of music that you've always loved yet never heard before. You might hate it at first but then, suddenly, without any sort of logical comprehension....You'll LOVE IT!

Ravioli Does Austin?

Prince's version of the story is that he got wasted on Tebows and Sloor mucus, drove the time machine drunk, and somehow ended up in a present day lake in Austin, Texas almost crashing into Lady Ravioli and Dirty Laundry doing "The Delicate Knit Cycle" (don't know what this means) in the "friscalating dusklight" of the saddlecock. He decided, "why... not?" and joined them in their nipple grabbing merriment, then got dressed, and hit the town to see U2 open up for us,THE UNFORTUNATES, in another version (dimension) of Austin, where The SXSW Festival was taking place. It's really cool to watch yourself perform, live. I did it back in Pompeii one time, when Floyd opened up for us.