Poor Newsday. Everyone who’s anyone in the New York metropolitan area thinks of the Long Island newspaper as unnecessary and irrelevant. Until very recently I would have argued the point that, although it’s a cultural wasteland largely made up of privileged assholes who can’t speak even remotely proper English, drive in a responsible manner, or drink a nice relaxing beverage, there’s enough going on on Long Island to justify it’s own reasonably well written newspaper. I would even go so far as to say the sports writing is pretty serviceable and even funny in an “I can’t believe these guys get paid to write blogs” kind of way.

“That guy’s a turd.” – My dad in reference to Neil Best. Well said, pops.

I would have said all that until about three days ago. That’s when Neil Best decided to sit down and write “The Top 10 Best New York Sports Moments of 2010.” They changed the name online to omit the “New York” part, but you’ll notice every moment includes a New York team. Again, this would have amused me any other day. I love lists. I watched a ton of sports in 2010. I definitely would have liked to combine the two. But Neil Fucking Best had to go and take a big dump on what would be great dump-taking reading material.

Read more »

We proudly present to you the second in our “Collective Criticism” series. This week we have three reviews of the recent collaboration between alt-rock guitar heroes Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and John Frusciante. It doesn’t seem to have a title. Also, it was picked by Felix.

Read more »

Frequently, I find myself envying the relatively talentless people talking to me on TV. Instead of coming to grips with the fact that the bullshit I mindlessly peruse during timeouts passes as legitimate entertainment, I usually just assume the clown spewing pure garbage and nonentertainment into my brain lucked into the gig, held the producer’s family hostage in exchange for the gig, or must have been a bona fide celebrity in a no longer relevant distant past. One person who actually doesn’t bother me so much is Guy Fieri. His show is pretty decent and he seems like a good enough dude. All in all, Guy Fieri probably doesn’t deserve the mockery I’m about to make of his appearance and personality.

Maybe he does.

Read more »

I’m writing this on Monday night about an hour before the New York Giants play the Minnesota Vikings in Detroit. This wacky set of circumstances comes as a direct result of this:

Woah.

Anyway, even more significant than an entire sports stadium collapsing under the weight of what appears to be either cocaine or sudsy bubbles is the fact that Brett Favre won’t be starting. For those of you who a) don’t like to spend 10 hours every Sunday screaming at their TV, b) don’t know the names of the sports they watch, or c) sat out every 2nd week of high school gym because of “menstrual cramps,” Brett Favre has started every single regular season game since 1992. Follow me after the jump for a list of significant events that have happened since Brett started tossing an asymmetrical leather ball to really fast black guys on a professional level.

Read more »

Since Smartass Radio originally started as a vehicle to take me backstage at shows for free, it makes sense that we turn our attention to music every once in a while. And seeing as regular reviews kinda suck and only give you one person’s opinion on a particular piece of music, we decided it would be good if we chose an album every week and everyone had to review it. These aren’t going to necessarily be new releases, just something that one of us decided all four of us should listen to.

This week someone chose Steeple, Wolf People’s second record this year. Go illegally download the album (you were going to anyway) and listen to it while we force feed you our opinions.
Read more »

Missed Connections are the most desperate, pathetic form of making contact with a potential sexual partner. “I saw you on the L train last Monday around 10 AM. I know you noticed me too, but I was too shy chickenshit to go up to you and strike up a conversation. So, here I am writing, more or less, to the idea of you, hoping that you’re as pathetic as I am. If you’re interested in meeting up reply to this anonymous email.”

There’s no way these ever work. MAYBE on a campus newspaper, but certainly not on the craigslist from a major city. I’m sure none of you remember Joel C. Marquette or even knew who he was to begin with. Click this link to refresh your memory and then follow me while I explore his trials and tribulations through the world of Missed Connections.

Read more »

As much as it pains me to say, time travel is fucking impossible. I came to this conclusion at Roy’s parents house recently. I realized that if time travel ever existed, it always existed. Trippy, right? Anyway, the thing that made me realize this is that no one has completely dominated music (or really anything other art) 100%. If I could go back in time, I’d write and record every classic album like three weeks before the artist who actually wrote it.

Then I got to thinking about other things that would be different. Like how someone (probably me) would have shown up in 2005 to beat the living shit out of me before I ever had the chance to write the following LiveJournal update…

Read more »