Last Call is kind of like Blogkakke, only on PCP, LSD and ludes. Fucking ludes man. Instead of just being a random link dump, it’s a place to congregate with fellow like minded sports fans, alcoholics and amateur comedians. So come on in, kick your shoes off and crack a beer; then regale us with a witty joke, bitch about that local sports team or ask Logic about the proper way to perform a “rape” choke. If you have something you’d like to see here, our contact info is over on the right and there’s always the tip line, tips @ thegallyblog.com
Last Call is kind of like Blogkakke, only on PCP, LSD and ludes. Fucking ludes man. Instead of just being a random link dump, it’s a place to congregate with fellow like minded sports fans, alcoholics and amateur comedians. So come on in, kick your shoes off and crack a beer; then regale us with a witty joke, bitch about that local sports team or ask gally the best way to reformat your computer. If you have something you’d like to see here, our contact info is over on the right and there’s always the tip line, tips @ thegallyblog.com
gimp here. I know, weird, right? Gally’s computer has tanked once again and our poor Canadian overlord friend now has to reformat. Dude just save yourself the trouble and get a Mac.
Kudos to you boxing. Manny Pacquiao versus Joshua Clottey at the time probably seemed like a great idea. Similar to many of my drunk sexual encounters from back in college, (Read: fat chicks). However, the end result never pans out how you want it to and is usually accompanied by a head ache and a little less self-esteem.
Pacquiao threw a ton of punches and Clottey did a ton of blocking. Yes both Pacquiao and Clottey are world class athletes, and I don’t want to take anything away from Clottey, but for boxing money I think I could have blocked and turtled up for 12 rounds. I mean seriously, $50 to watch that seems like a waste. My $50 would have been better spent fronting the purse in a bum fight. No, seriously it would have.
If the fighting, or lack there of, wasn’t enough of a downer how about that commentating? Case in point, Jim Lampley:
Good god that’s painful. I’m sorry Jim, but yelling “Bang” a bunch of times doesn’t make for great announcing. It just makes you sound like a kid with Asperger’s who has an obsession with Cowboys and Indians.
There’s nothing quite sexier than someone losing consciousness. And no Logic I’m not referring to the lack of lucidness that comes from drinking GHB infused beverages at a frat party. No sir, I am talking about the loss of bowel control that can only come from the sport of MMA. Because if there’s one thing the sadists writers here at the Gally Blog enjoy it’s a good knockout. Well maybe that and @berstreet‘s tits.
I would post fight related info, but
1) I imagine most people coming to this site only care about the violence, which,
a) I would assume is on par with putting credits in a snuff film
Last Call is kind of like Blogkakke, only on PCP, LSD and ludes. Fucking ludes man. Instead of just being a random link dump, it’s a place to congregate with fellow like minded sports fans, alcoholics and amateur comedians. So come on in, kick your shoes off and crack a beer; then regale us with a witty joke, bitch about that local sports team or ask Logic the best way to piss off a professional MMA fighter. If you have something you’d like to see here, our contact info is over on the right and there’s always the tip line, tips @ thegallyblog.com
So America lost the big gold medal showdown to Canada yesterday, which would totally matter to me if I actually gave a shit about hockey. Personally I only get fired up for hockey when a) there’s fights or b) a chick flashes her boobs up against the glass.
In other news go fuck yourself Canada! I mean, sure I have an axe to grind with your bacon, but having Nickelback play the closing ceremonies would be like the USA having Good Charlotte play the Super Bowl. Not cool at all, my moose riding neighbors to the North.
Musical Interlude
“I believe in a thing called love” by The Darkness
If there’s one thing I like more than steak, lesbian porn, and the occasional blumpkin it would have to be a good old fashion collision. And while soccer isn’t as contact oriented as say football and hockey, those footballers have been known to bring the pain from time to time. In this case it’s not a dirty slide tackle or a kick to an opponent’s head. No this time it’s one player crashing into his fellow teammate. Now I can’t really tell if the parties involved were really that injured or just really that embarrassed. However, while that is embarrassing, on the embarrassing scale crashing into your teammate is nowhere near as bad as that time I made out with my 2nd cousin as making out with your 2nd cousin at a frat party.
"It's cool man, I don't think anyone saw it." /pats and rubs back
Note to self: If ever in the public eye whether it be as an athlete or celebrity remember to watch what you say on social media outlets, i.e. Facebook, Twitter, and the cesspool known as MySpace. You never know if it will come back and bite you on the ass.
Jemere Holland, the WR for the Oregon Ducks, scratch that, former WR for the Oregon Ducks, didn’t get that memo. Holland was apparently a tad upset/angry/maybe a little drunk when he posted the following message as his Facebook status around 4 am Sunday morning:
how the f**k you kick kinko off the team,,, on some weak sh**, niggas always faded he slipped up but ive been slippn up, and I’m still here, that sh** weak buff cuh could have done damage for the ducks, that sh** is weak, weak ass f**k, quote me SbB
And quote we shall. Quote we shall.
The “Kinko” in question would actually be Kiko Alonso, a redshirt sophomore. He was busted Saturday for a DUI, or as I like to call it, “the Frat Boy Special”. It’s also important to note that Kiko was the 4th Duck to be arrested in the last month, which to me means they’re really taking the off season seriously in order to one-up the LaGarette Blount sucker punch of yesteryear. One can only hope.
No word yet on if Kiko is off the team. However, I’m not sure what’s worse: getting a DUI and getting kicked off the team, or getting a DUI and still being forced to wear those ugly fucking jerseys.
Last Call is kind of like Blogkakke, only it’s on LSD, PCP and ludes man. Fucking ludes. Instead of just posting random links, its a place for you to come and hang out with fellow minded sports fans, alchoholics and amateur comedians. Stop by and tell us a joke, bitch about your local sports team or just spout off about how crappy your Christmas gifts were. Looking at you Soapy Soles. Looking. At. You.
Fret not loyal readers the aftermath of the 2009 Chicken Fat Bowl will be up soon enough. Be patient it will totally be worth the wait. In the meantime let’s get down to business /drops pants, belt buckle clanks on floor.
Musical Interlude
“pepper” by The Butthole Surfers. Yay Butthole Surfers. Yay!
Last evening’s Monday Night Football saw Logic’s New York Giants take on the Washington Redskins. In theory this should have been a good game. You know, since they’re division rivals and division rivalry games are always exciting makes dismissive wanking motion. The Giants won a lopsided victory 45-12, instilling in them and their fans a false hope for the playoffs.
Personally, I, like most people could give two shits about this game. However, there was more riding on this game than just a win for an NFC East team. It’s Fantasy Football playoff time, folks. The games this past weekend have some serious ramifications. That is, of course, if you made the playoffs. If you’re like me and you put forth a sub-par effort, you might be lucky enough to make the consolation round. Which is on par with banging a tranny. Sure they might have a rocking set of fake tits, but they still have a dick between their legs.
Even though I made some form of the playoffs, there truly was no consolation for me, along with 3 other fantasy owners. The four of us were on the precipice of the playoffs. Fantasy football greatness was just in front of us only to realize our teams were not good enough. Winning the consolation playoffs is like being the smartest retard: You may be the smartest person there, but you’re still a retard.
So what do we play for in the consolation round of playoffs? Pride. Sure, pride is cool and all, but there has to be more. In order to make a meaningless game purposeful, I proposed to Logic (my opponent, and fellow Gally Blog writer) a wager on our match up. Some people wager money, some a silly dare. Then there are the silly dares that are derived from an individual’s sadistic tendencies and a lot of booze. It was from that handle of Jim Beam that the Chicken Fat Bowl was hatched pun high five.
It came from shopping at the local super market, where I stumbled across a tub of frozen chicken fat. At that very moment, as I stood there in the frozen food section and tuned out my wife as she asked me for my opinion on whether to have couscous or rice for a side dish, that I decided to up the ante on my match up with Señor Logicos.
It was so simple, yet so repulsive. The loser of our pointless duel would have to down some chicken fat and post the video on to the site. Yeah, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
Long story short, Logic accepted. I lost and Jim Zorn is a total dick. I mean, I sent him an e-mail pretending to be a kid dying of cancer and my last remaining wish was to have Hakeem Nicks double teamed. Keeping Hakeem Nicks from getting more than 3 fantasy points would keep my consolation playoff hopes alive and my lips from tasting fowl blubber.
Fuck you Zorn!
Sure, I’m not dying, but how do you not respond to someone’s dying wish? Jim Zorn, you are a cock sucker. I hope you enjoy being unemployed. Now I’m left to gobble up the gelatinous remains of a chicken. The video will be coming shortly. You know…after I come to the acceptance part of dealing with this grief.
Oh, Brazil. You have given the world so many great things. Brazilian Ju Jitsu, Brazilian Bikinis, and my personal favorite: the Brazilian wax. Ah, nothing says “I love you” quite like smooth genitalia, but I digress.
How could you possibly raise the bar of awesomeness? What’s that you say, Brazilian bikini roller boxing?
I’m not sure how, and I’m not sure why, but we here at the Gally Blog totally approve of Bikini Roller Boxing. I mean, seriously that takes all sorts of coordination to do something that athletic. And by coordination I mean some nice T & A. And by something athletic I mean turn me on.
