The World According To Reber

Dee Dee Dee - McNabb's At It Again.

2008-11-17T15:53:00.000-04:00

I'm so glad that I was still fighting off this virus that I've had for the last couple of days. For, you see, the Eagles played the Bengals yesterday. Yeah, it was supposed to be a tight match-up, but the Eagles were favored to win by the guidance of Donovan McNabb.

Or should I say McBadd?

You know, I would have thought that the sight of the Philadelphia Phillies getting their own parade down Market Street a couple of weeks ago (and the belief that, yes, William Penn isn't truly a curse after all) would inspire the Eagles to do better. Clearly both the Sixers and the Flyers are starting to turn themselves around after a disappointing start to both their respective seasons. Yet Andy Reid, the bumbling oaf who continues to not only coach this team but act as their vice president as well, and Donovan McNabb, almost imitating Ryan Leaf in the last couple of weeks, continue to set new precedence each and every week.

Week 11 was no exception. Clearly both the offense and defense are two different teams. The Eagles defense continues to look amazing. Granted, they weren't impressive against the highly-skilled Giants (who, I will admit it, are indeed a very well-rounded team), but they made the Bengals work for their 13 measly points. Their numbers were staggering - 56 total tackles, 8 sacks, 2 forced fumbles. The defense is playing like a team who has only lost one game.

Same can't be said for the lousy offense. I'm going to leave out Brian Westbrook, Correll Buckhalter, and the entire receiving corps - they work their asses off trying to get some of these lame passes and are only frustrated. No, aside from wagging my finger at the spokesman for overweight jerkoffs everywhere (I mean Andy Reid - NOT David Anderson), I blame Donovan McNabb.

What the fuck is wrong with him? He can throw too high, too low, too short, or too far and he still grimaces after every pass, patting his chest boldly and saying "My bad." Dude - you've been pulling this shit for weeks. Months. YEARS. After all this time, you think you'd realize that if your mangled feet were in tempo with the game you'd be having a QB passer rating 85 or above every fucking game. Instead you give us stats that make you look worse than any C-rate quarterback - 1 touchdown, 3 interceptions (and nearly a 4th in fucking overtime), and 2 sacks. Pitiful. Dreadful.

And the icing on the cake? He didn't know you could tie a game.

I have no words for either Reid or McNabb. I'm stunned really. If Jeff Lurie had his mouth out of Andy Reid's buttcheeks he'd give both of them a big ultimatum - get your shit together or get the fuck out. Reid is totally incompetent and McNabb isn't fairing any better. I mean, Christ, do what the Phillies did. Spend some money, get some great fucking talent in here for the offense, and run everyone the fuck over. This is unacceptable for a team that has taken risks before. Andy Reid takes a risk chowing down on a Five Guys burger everyday, yet he's still alive.

Maybe if Donovan took it up the tailpipe like a fucking man and accept the criticism that's dogging him - maybe he'd be a better athlete. At this point, I'm more than disappointed. I'm moving on to the Flyers and Sixers on a full time basis.

Scissor Me Timbers - Really? Again?

2008-11-13T20:33:00.000-04:00

As if this day hasn't dragged on long enough for me, things just got richer in my little world. I was just about to check my email to see if I had any new messages (to my dismay, I did not) but was so blessed to see the latest headlines. Apparently the Obama clan is partial to all sorts of foods - the kids love macaroni and cheese, Michelle digs fish, and Barack has a soft spot for hot sauce. The CIA is still on the hunt for Osama Bin Laden and lists him as a top priority - even though I'm pretty sure no one has seen a true video of him since his dialysis machine tumbled down the mountains in Pakistan a couple years back. Washington DC is expecting a swell of over a million people for President Obama's inauguration in two months - vendors with all sorts of fried foods are already lining up primo locations on the Mall in prepartion.

Oh, and the "pregnant man" is pregnant again.

C'mon? Really? How is this really making headlines all over again? It's bad enough the press bought the story, only to later learn that it's not a man, man - it's a woman with an elaborate sex-change operation and plenty of hormones to grow a Kevin Federline-inspired goatee. And the bosomy 46-year old wife? She had to know that her "hubby" wasn't able to make the fishies swim up the River of No Return. Sure, she had a hysterectomy years ago and couldn't have children - but that does this make her a lesbian or just blind to the fact that that "guy's" face is really a formerly-petite Asian chick?

No matter. This time around, it isn't Oprah who opted to expose the story on an hour-long special to make audiences roll their eyes. Instead it's fellow auteur Barbara Walters who snagged the interview for tomorrow's episode of The View. Really Barbara, whatever happened to your days of hard hitting journalism? That went the wayside when you ditched Hugh Downs and fled to an estrogen-fueled talk show that's more clownish than a nightly show of Ringling Brothers.

I think this time around most people are going to see the article, just shrug off the fact that the "pregnant man" remained off the hormones long enough to concoct a second child, and will go on with their lives. Seriously now - if I bought a gerbil, named him Lemmiwinks, and shoved him up my ass could I whore myself out to the media (marking Richard Gere as my inspiration) the same way this dopey couple has? Oy vey someone get me a shotglass. Where's my fuckin' Jager?

Me, Making Meth For A Biker Gang? Nonsense!

2008-11-13T16:05:00.000-04:00

Nice looking guy, isn't he? That baby blue shirt that hasn't been ironed properly, the salt-and-pepper hair that's reminiscent of George Walker Bush, and a grin so grimy you'd wish someone would knock jar his teeth lose. The scumbag in the photo above, Michael Spadafora, lives in nearby Exeter Township with his wife and four kids. He runs his own business - a vending company that probably makes a killing at various locations with tasty treats like potato chips, pretzels, candy, and other non-nutritious foods. He hasn't fled from the cops and swears the bail money he has to post (now $500,000 instead of the original $1 million announced by the court) is coming from a relative's money-market account.

Oh, and he's running a meth operation alongside three other people in the immediate area. What?

Yeah, it seems any clown with a nickel smile and a gut the size of a Volkswagon Beetle can be your criminal next door. Deputy Attorney General Robert Rosner says his office has information that Spadafora, along with another Berks County couple (Randy and Holly Cronrath) and a Montgomery County man (Michael Sexton), had devised a scheme to make and sell meth from their homes, with the Warlock Motorcycle Club puppeteering the entire plan. A shipping container had been converted in Sexton's backyard to a methamphetamine laboratory. The Cronrath clan kept the meth in baggies in their shed to sell to clientele who desired to get higher than a hot air balloon. And Spadafora had guns, chemicals, and a large sum of cash in his home.

The icing on the cake? Spadafora, the slimeball, had a life-size cutout of a police officer he'd been using as target practice with his pistol.

The Warlock Motorcycle Club is based out of both Delaware County and South Jersey. As all stereotypes generally work, the bikers are neck-high in illegal activities such as drug trafficking, money laundering, and extortion. To make the plot even deeper the Warlock Motorcycle Club has close ties to the Scarfo crime family in Philadelphia and other Cosa Nostra families who have customers to please and people to humiliate.

Man, this whole story is like a movie gone wrong. If you follow the leads right from Philadelphia on up to Reading it seems that the Scarfo family (who is still highly active today in South Philly) is working under the radar with a decrepit band of bikers getting their methamphetamine fix from four dolts around Reading. The best part is, Spadafora knew he was going to be arrested on October 16th - and yet didn't run from the law. Is this because he wanted the operation exposed? Or does he have a lawyer who is so dirty and embedded with the Mafia he'll have no problem getting out of this jam?

You know, what goes around comes around Mister Worry-Free. Look what happened in the case with Kyle Quinn - somehow Tim Gearhart only got twenty to forty in the pen but his accomplices are set to get a whopping forty to sixty years for their hand in his murder. Do you really think that, by getting your bail dropped 50% its retail value, you're going to skip on home to your moron of a wife and kids that live on Cloud Nine? I'm pretty sure that both the Scarfo family and the Warlocks won't have a problem hanging you out to dry and letting you serve a stint in prison. It's quite alright though. You'll have friends behind bars at least.

Just pray your skilled hands don't drop the soap - otherwise you're going to be singing the chorus of the angels in the near future.

The Mom of the Year Strikes Again

2008-11-12T17:38:00.000-04:00

Aww now isn't that darn tootin' cute? Little Piper Palin picked something up from mommie dearest standing behind her - the ways of the middle finger. The big ole fuck you. Apparently the younger boy behind her must have been teasing her with all sorts of malicious monikers. Loser? Princess? Shawty? Who knows. All that this photo reveals is that the little Alaskan learned to flip the bird at a young age. Gee, and can we blame TV on this case? Methinks not. I mean, after all, look who her mommy is - Caribou Barbie, armed with 12-gauge shotgun and moose that drops dead when you pull the trigger! You know, the more reports that came out about Mrs. Palin as the campaign wore on the more I wondered how dysfunctional that family really was.

*Alaskan accent* Ohh noo Mr. Laurer, don't be absurd! I never took any clothes worth no $150,000 from the Republican National Committee! What's that? It's all in the boooks as having been purchased in New York City? That's preposterous. I'm a very sensible maverick, don'tyouknow. I would never be dishonest about something like that. ... Well, now that you mention it, maybe I did take some clothes back to Alaska. Oop-sey.

C'mon now. Once that first rumor came out, that her oldest daughter really wasn't pregnant and that the baby was really Sarah's - didn't we all know something was rotten in the state of Denmark err I mean Alaska? It's just been one thing after another with her. Didn't help things none during McCain's concession speech when Sarah and Todd stood a distance away from Cindy and John, only to walk over to shake hands quickly and part ways. McCain can be a gentleman all he wants when he chats to Jay Leno or whatever show he's making rounds on these days. The look in his eye says it all. Like, you can't fully blame Georgie Boy for this blunder. Yeah, he had a loose tongue during his campaign (saying "cunt" instead of "can't" - uhm you may want to get those dentures looked at Mr. Senator sir) and he acted like an asshole during some of the debates but the guy was putting everything out there. You can't fully control something that's going rogue.

Wait - can we really liken McCain and Palin to the Empire and the Rebel Alliance? Holy shit we can.

Even so, regardless if the two didn't get along or not over the last three months, this post is all about Palin teaching bad etiquette. Listen Sarah, the American people aren't dumb. The power of YouTube is amazing these days. We saw your little videos of when you were 19 (but scaringly looked to be your current age even then yipe) working your thang at a beauty pagaent. Playing your clarinet? Struttin' your (lack of) stuff on the catwalk? Making your little speeches? We know you were coached to be prim and proper. Your kids should be the same way. Instead your youngest daughter is turning into quite the hellion and your oldest is knocked up and getting married. Ohh Sarah. Hey, we can make a sitcom out of her life's story (kind of like That's My Bush!) and any network that airs it will get ratings. It's gold Jerry, gold!

...yeah, or not. Some things are left to stay out of the spotlight anyway.

Back In The Midst

2008-11-12T14:41:00.000-04:00

So after a year of slacking off with my writing (aside from random rants on Facebook or answering posts on entertainment news sites I read) I've decided to take all my writing off of Facebook and start giving this blogging thing a try. In all honesty, posting stuff on Facebook is like airing out dirty laundry. All it takes is for some bored schmuck to stumble across something you've rambled about and either report it to the geeks at Facebook or find people to gang up on you. Hmm, that actually sounds familiar. I guess I'm guilty of that. Poor DCA (I'll leave it to the initials since many of you people have the unpleasantry of knowing him) decided to write one of the most disgusting posts ever last week and I called him out on it. In fact, a lot of people did. Well I suppose if you want people to think you're a coward racist who takes pride in the fact he's a bandwagon jumper that's the way to go.

Most of you, and I'm going to guess anyone who isn't a die hard when it comes to cinema, are wondering what in the fuck that title is all about. One of my favorite movies from when I was a teenager was a little Robin Williams ditty called The World According To Garp. The whole damn movie was silly, preposterous, and occasionally bleak - but it was entertaining and brought the world of a struggling writer to the screens back in 1980. Sure, I wasn't born until the year God gifted us with Ghostbusters, but I discovered the movie back in high school and found the parallels astounding. Well, okay, so my mom isn't a women's rights activist who happens to be a nurse, I don't throw a football around with a former Philadelphia Eagles player who thinks he's a chick, and am pretty sure I'm more of a bowler than I'll ever be a wrestler.

Anyway, to the point - I'm hoping to carry on my rants from Facebook about movies, TV, sports, and anything else that grinds my gears and give it a twist. Sure, there are thousands of people out there doing the same thing. But they aren't me. And they can't thank a bumfuck college called Kutztown University for their skewered, strange view at the world. Damnit though, if it wasn't for my times in Beck Hall, I don't know how I would have turned out.

Actually, I think I would have been normal. Oh well. A photo of epic proportions follows the jump;

Damnit I'm still riding on a high on that World Series win. Maybe Rays fans can blame Terry Bradshaw for the bad mojo. He did, after all, put on a Rays hat just before Game 4. If I recall correctly, Tampa Bay would go on to blow the rest of the series. Huh. Guess that Bradshaw is a jinx after all!