“The Watcher” Review and No Carb Jail

OUR WORLD:

*There will be spoilers

Official Jimmyschair “We’re looking for a new show, what did you think of ________?”—

“The Watcher” Netflix 

What’s it about? 

It’s based on or inspired by a true story, which, spoiler alert, means that maybe something happened like this in the past, but the producers just put it in to lend immediate believability to an otherwise unbelievable story.  (Wut?) This story is about a family (omg, I love families!) that buys a house in some ritzy neighborhood, but then start getting letters in the mail from someone claiming to be “The Watcher” of the house.  This “Watcher” jabronie is mucho creepo, writing things like how this house needs young people’s blood, and knowing the names of the family’s kids, and other stuff that makes you look at your spouse with the “is this gonna be too scary for us to actually watch?”-look.  

The letters are just the tip of the iceberg (wait, there’s an iceberg?!) as the family descends into paranoia while wrestling with the budding reality that their newly purchased dream home may be (don’t say nightmare!) turning into a bad dream that wakes you up and you feel scared but you’re not sure why because WHO REMEMBERS THEIR DREAMS?!?!  You do? Cool, don’t tell anyone—nobody is interested in what you dreamt about last night.  (He’s actually right.  Shut up about your dreams.) 

What’s Good?

-The cast is incredible.  Bobby Carnivale and Naomi Watts play the two leads—husband and wife of the newly purchased bad-dream house.  Bobby Carnivale is an all-time “hey, he’s in…uh…”-guy that you like because you recognize him, and Naomi Watts is just awesome in everything she has ever been in AND I WILL HEAR NOTHING ELSE ON THE SUBJECT.  The suspects for who could be “The Watcher” are also all kinds of creepy and interesting character actors.  Think Stifler’s Mom, and Shooter McGavin, and Larry David’s brother in “Curb”, and that lady from “The Leftovers”.  You’ve seen them all, and they all specialize in different ways to make you laugh and squirm.   

-The tone.  It’s hard for a show to be: creepy, but not too scary; dark, but not humorless; and funny, but not goofy.  “The Watcher” is able to expertly toe these lines.  The writers are able to weave enough humor into the episodes that you’re not overwhelmed by the anxiety you’re feeling watching this family get terrorized.  

-The length!  It’s only 7 episodes and each episode is about 45-53 minutes long.  You’ll finish this show quicker than you really want to.

What’s BAD? (THIS PART CONTAINS SPOILERS!  IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET, SKIP TO THE NEXT SECTION AND COME BACK TO READ THIS PART ONCE YOU FINISH THE SHOW.)

–The main thing that gnawed at me from very early on in the show was that they should just sell the house IMMEDIATELY.  I wasn’t really buying the argument for them to stay.  I get it, they sunk a ton of money into purchasing this house, but when you start getting letters naming your kids and talking about how the house wants their blood and that you’ll never stop watching…I don’t know, maybe take a loss?  Is living in a not-mansion really that horrific of a prospect for these people?  “I do love our kids, but I also love living in a big house.”  Yeah, the house is sweet, but you know what else is sweet? NOT GETTING MURDERED.  Naomi Watts would use the “well, if we just cut and run, what does that teach our kids?”-argument, and to that I’d say that I’m pretty sure the kids would be all for cutting and running if that meant SAVING THEIR LIVES.  Seriously, imagine the daughter getting stabbed by The Watcher, and as she lies bleeding on the floor Naomi Watts says, “hey, but at least we didn’t run from our fears, right?!”  Call me crazy, but I’d opt for the route that doesn’t involve the possibility of my kids getting stabbed.

-The ending.  It just felt lazy.  Yes, the real-life story about this house has remained unsolved, but by episode 7 does anybody really give a shit if it’s not being totally accurate to the true story?  The writers and producers didn’t mind taking liberties throughout the rest of the series, so why stop now?  Naomi Watts and Bobby Carnivale are impossibly good looking, you think that’s what the real-life couple looked like?  You really think the true story included a private detective who delivered all of her updates like a Broadway leading lady?  Please.  We lose most grasp of this being a realistic story once we see Stifler’s mom on screen.  So, give us an ending!  My theory is that shows that have ambiguous endings like this, where “anyone could be The Watcher!  Oooooo spooky!” is the writers room just admitting that they weaved (wove? Woven?) too big of a web of suspects to come up with a satisfying ending.  Here’s a hot tip from me, your resident screenwriting SAVANT (when’s the last time you finished a script?) the key to a great ending is to give the audience what they want in a way they’d never expect it.  Think about how this show ended…is that what you wanted? 

-Bobby Carnivale’s character constantly cupping the faces of his family.  The show was creepy enough that we didn’t need Bobby C. softly caressing his kids faces every time he was trying to give them a “I’m a good dad, right?”-talk.  

-The Private Detective lady with cancer came off way too actor-y.  The accent, the clothes, the gloves, the eyebrows, the sickness.  Everything just screamed, “you can find me on Broadway!”

So, cut the shit, should I watch this show?

–Yes.  While I have some issues with the story and a few acting quirks, overall, I was supremely entertained throughout these 7 episodes.  I don’t think this show is award-worthy, but there aren’t a ton of new great options these days.  I always come back to this question: after dinner, are you excited to watch the next episode of the show you’ve been watching?  With “The Watcher” I always was.  

FINAL TAKEAWAY

Good, not great. 

MY WORLD:

I’m doing the thing where I know that I need to lose weight, but I’m not totally ready to commit to a shitty diet, so I’m compromising at the “I’ll eat healthy during the week”-stage of denial.  Can I just say? It sucks.  Lately, fewer and fewer of my clothes have been fitting properly and there’s only so long I can go with the “must be because of how much I’m lifting!”-excuse.  I am lifting (and EATING!) but I’ve also used that as an excuse to eat whatever I want, whenever I want under the guise of needing the protein!  I have discovered, to my dismay, that heavy bagels are not good sources of protein.  I know, I was surprised too.   

Is there a worse feeling than grabbing the shirt that used to big on you, putting it on, and feeling the dreaded shirt-hug?  Sometimes, I don’t love a hug.  Or, when you do the laundry and you accidentally leave that pair of pants that still “fits” in the dryer?  The dryer is the only household appliance I’ve ever fantasized about torturing.  Like, the movie “Seven”, but my Maytag in the Gwyneth Paltrow role.  (The timer knob in the box?)  I’m convinced that my dryer knows to hide that pair of pants only when I’m putting on weight.  That way, when I take them out later I’m forced to contemplate whether I’m ready to commit full-time to “I’m just bigger”-lifestyle.  And honestly, what’s holding me back is money!  I think I’d be more willing to become a dedicated Fattopotamus if someone else would shop (and pay for) new clothes for me.  In the end, I’d rather not eat bread for a few weeks than go shopping…once.

After some serious self-reflection, here are the stages of my exercise to diet:

Stage 1:  “They say lifting allows you to burn calories even when you’re not working out.  Thus, I should lift, but also eat whatever I want, wherever I want because my body will now be able to burn all of those extra calories.  If you have a hunk of meat alongside your beer and bowl of chips, that protein basically cancels out the carbs.  Protein is vital!”

Stage 2:  “Should I start incorporating cardio?”

Stage 3:  “Hmm, my stretchy-waisted pants are tighter than they used to be.  Must be because of all of the quad gains from leg day and definitely not from having dessert every night of the week now!”

Stage 4:  “Shit, I need to start incorporating cardio.  But first!  Let’s just try not eating breakfast!”

Stage 5:  “So, I’m some cardio now.” 

Stage 6:  “Out of curiosity, I just tried to put on an old pair of pants that do not have a stretchy waist.  Now, I’m going to buy rope and write one last letter.”

Stage 7:   “I know I’m bigger than I want to be, but I think my face looks like this more because of the haircut.”

Stage 8:  “Delete that picture! No, now let me see your phone!”

Stage 9:  “I’ll cut carbs during the week.”

Stage 10: “If muscle weighs more than fat, I’ll lose weight if I stop lifting, right?”

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

That Bears game last night was as much fun watching a Bears game as I’ve had in a couple years.  Yes, it’s cool we beat the brakes off the Patriots on primetime, but I was more excited that all of our most important young players had BIG games: Fields, Roquan, Brisker, Gordon, and Mooney all made big plays in this game.  

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Seeing the leaves pile up in your lawn and knowing how many frustrating hours of rounding them up are ahead of you.  Each day that passes, my anxiety rises.   

MY BABY IS SO CUTE MOMENT:

The Warden really loves when I let my hair fall onto her forehead.  She smiles huge and acts like she’s getting an award-winning massage (are there massage awards?)

MY BABY IS SO CUTE, BUT…MOMENT:

Is there anything more frustrating than trying to feed a baby who won’t take the bottle but is still desperately hungry?  HEY, BABY! I HAVE A BOTTLE AND YOU’RE STILL HUNGRY!  USE YOUR HEAD! 

JIMMY GAMBLES:

I’m piping hot on baseball and football right now.  Unfortunately, for the next couple nights there’s only basketball and hockey on.  This is when I should take a few days off.  That being said, you’re not my Dad.  Let’s bang a Dallas, OKC, Golden State ATS parlay tonight.

K, bye. 

I’m Throwing A Massive BLOWOUT Grown-Up Halloween Party

MY WORLD:

Are the days of fun Halloween parties over for me?  You know, the adult ones (wait…like “Adult”?) where everyone wears funny costumes and gets drunk together?  I think those are done for me and when that dawned on me the other night, I got sad in my head but didn’t admit it to The VP or The Warden (your 3 month old asked why you were pissy for no reason?)  So I’m coming here, to my chairblogthing, to say that I am sad that I think my days of fun grown people (better than “adult”, nice) Halloween parties are over.

Now look, I’m not asking for you to send me a “hang in there” text, but I’m going to allow myself to feel sad that the nights of getting bombed in a parrot costume are in my rearview.  Yes, I did once buy a $150 dollar parrot costume to wear while I was waiting tables, and then later that night when I went around bars in Chicago thinking some HotBabe5000 would see me in my parrot costume and go: “that guy must be funny and, therefore, I must make out with him!”  Not wanting to get bogged down in the details of whether that happened or not (it didn’t…not close, actually…just a grown man wearing a parrot costume living in the forever-friend-zone) I do remember that it was really fun.  AND I LOVE FUN! 

But now I live in Northbrook, a Chicago suburb where Halloween consists of tiny humans getting to dress up, while the larger humans are just there to chaperone and say things like, “say trick or treat!” or, “say thank you!”  This is Halloween now, for me, isn’t it?  Eventually taking The Warden around dressed up as something “ohmygod CUTE!” and reminding her to thank the strangers for putting a fun-sized DadsGonnaEatThisLater bar in her bag.  Say goodbye to the days of shots and cigs, and hello to the days of “I SAID STOP AT THE CORNER!”

Unless…(No….)

Unless someone in their mid-to-late thirties has the gall to stand for what is right…(why is everything going into slow motion?)

Unless that person is willing to say, “we may be in the suburbs, but our hearts are still in the city!”…(people are slowly standing up!  The bearded man has tears in his eyes!)

Unless ONE brave soul has the courage to look past the side-eyed glares coming from the parents who brag about not letting their kids watch television, stand up, and say:

“WE WILL NOT GO QUIETLY INTO THE NIGHT!  WE WILL NOT VANISH WITHOUT A FIGHT!  WE’RE GOING TO LIVE ON!  WE’RE GOING TO SURVIVE!  TODAY, WE CELEBRATE OUR INDEPENDENCE DAY GROWN-UP HALLOWEEN!” 

With my fellow party parents now chanting “ONE MORE YEAR!” I nod and snarl my nose a little before grabbing the imaginary microphone (everything is imaginary here, pal) like Leo in Wolf of Wall Street, and bellowing: “HALLOWEEN PARTY AT MY HOUSE!  NO KIDS ALLOWED!!!”

Folks, here’s what that party would feel like:

To gain entry, you would have to wear a costume and I would have the right to deny access to those wearing lame or unfunny costumes.  Why? Because nothing is worse than the guys trying to look cool in their Halloween costume.  You know the type: the strong guys who were “300” warriors, or the guys who dress as characters from “Yellowstone”, or the dopes who buy scrubs and a stethoscope.  If you’re a guy trying to look cool, you’re not getting in.  This year, you’ll spot these as the guys dressed up like Top Gun Tom Cruise.  THERE WILL BE NO FAKE TOM CRUISE’S IN MY SUBURBAN GROWN UP HALLOWEEN PARTY! 

Women? Meh, wear whatever you want.  I don’t care, you’re in. (When the VP asks what this is about, what are you going to say?) Honestly, I just don’t even notice other women when The VP of Ops is in the room.  What can I say? She’s the only woman I see!  No, but seriously, if you do try to make out with me because “god, that portly fella’ in the ladybug costume just radiates sex appeal” you can just call me on my burner phone to arrange something BUZZ OFF! 

Once you pass the douchebag test at the door, you will hear Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” and ONLY Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”.  Yes, it will be on a loop the entire night because that song rocks (cool word) and the rest of the Halloween songs are kinda’ dumb.  All of you “but, what about ‘Monster Mash’?!”-inbreds can go pound sand.  The singers of that song are using the voice you use when you’re trying to make fun of how a rich, uptight asshole sounds.  “It was a graveyahhhd smashhhh”.  Please, that song is a CERTIFIED GetAwayFromMe.

So, we’ve got “Thriller” just blaring, and you’re looking for the bar.  Uh oh!  Who’s that Ladybug doing the only part of the “Thriller” dance he knows?  Why, it’s me, Jimmy and as the host who boasts THEEEEEE MOST roast, it is my pleasure to make you a cocktail.  Just past the bowls of candy corn (don’t like candy corn? Good! More for this bug!) and blacklights and the big pots with dry ice smoke coming out of it (so spooooky) you will find my bar where I will make you any drink you can imagine as long as it’s beer!!! (Wait.). Help yourself to my fridge!  THIS WORLD IS YOUR OYSTER!  NO EXPENSE SPARED! (There are only dented Miller Lite cans in here.  How old are these?!)

What’s that? You found the liquor cabinet?  Oooooo, well that’s funny you say it’s locked because I specifically meant to leave it unlocked for ALL OF MY WONDERFUL GUESTS!  Excuse me while I “look” for the key and never talk to you for the rest of the party.  Because it’s Thriller!  IN. THE. NIGHT!

Alright, so we’ve got “Thriller” and any drink you can imagine (just old beer)!  This party is BUMPIN’!  What else we got?  Awwww sooky sooky now, is that pizza from Domino’s?  Nope!  It’s Little Caesar’s (oh.)  Fresh cocktail (beer, and not fresh) in one hand, delectable treat in the other, and surrounded only by funny costumes and cool vibes.  You’ll turn to your partner and ask, “am I dreaming?”  I know.  If this is heaven I…uh…wanna die!  I WANNA DIE!

While you and your partner debate just how concerning it is that the host of the party keeps yelling “I WANNA DIE!” , I’d like to point your attention to the flat-screen television (you don’t have to say flat-screen anymore, they’re all flat now.) where the late college football game is on: Stanford at UCLA!  Oh wow, UCLA is down by 18 points in the first quarter despite being undefeated, having a real shot at the College Football Playoff, and Stanford having one of the worst years in program history.  BOO!  It’s the Fat ManBug and I’m he has temporarily paused his “I WANNA DIE” screaming, to ask you a question, “do you have any drugs? Not the fun ones.  The scary ones.” BECAUSE IT’S HALLLOOOOWEEEEEN!  I am He is serious.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door and someone hired male strippers!  Wait…No no no.  These are just the hot guys trying to look cool who need to remember to only call me on my NEW phone number.  Not coming in.  Not here.  Breezing right past the crestfallen VP of Ops, you will encounter the game area of the party where everyone looks at Instagram, before holding up their phone and asking “have you seen this?”  Even if you haven’t, you’re going to say “yeah!” because few things are as awkward as watching a video on someone else’s phone while they’re holding it up waiting for you to laugh.  Classsssssic Halloween games? Uhhhhh THAT’S A 10-4!

Once you mosey on over to the couch, you’ll find people your age complaining about everything!  The skinny guy in the Iron Man costume will be whining about the cost of daycare, while the lady with the pencil mustache painted on-who nobody knows what the hell she is-reminds the skinny guy that once the kids reach school age, the costs of their travel sports teams is even more outrageous!  If you wish to stay in this VIP area, just make sure to talk about things you don’t like, but definitely cannot change.  Might I suggest, something in the realm of the oncoming winter weather and depressed we’re all about to be?!

This is my kinda’ party! 

Are you feeling what I’m feeling? (Are you the guy whose wife is holding your arm while saying “you didn’t even go to undergrad there!” through her gritted teeth?)  You know it!  That shweepy bloated feeling when 10 o’clock hits and you’ve had more than one beer, and all you want to do is put on your loosest sweatpants and drink alcohol without carbonation is upon us all!  (God there are a lot of exclamation points in here.).

THIS IS A 37 YEAR OLD’S GROWN-UP HALLOWEEN PARTY!

There.  Now, I’m actually looking forward to just walking around a neighborhood before stealing my kid’s candy when they go to sleep.  Aren’t you?

You’re welcome.

OUR WORLD:

In honor of Halloween coming up and me being a devoted CHUBBERINO, here are the Official 2022 Jimmyschair Halloween Candy Rankings:

  1. Snickers
  2. Peanut M&Ms
  3. Reese’s Cup
  4. York
  5. Butterfinger
  6. Kit Kat
  7. Twix
  8. Dots
  9. Baby Ruth
  10. Milky Way

1,000,000. Three Musketeers.  Be less interesting, I DARE YOU!

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

I am not a scary movie/show person, and I’m not sure if this show is considered scary, but “The Watcher” on Netflix is super creepy, but not creepy enough for me to not like it.  God, that was worded horribly!  What I’m trying to say is, show good. Me likey. Me no likey scary.  Show scary little.  Still likey.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Both The VP and The Warden have Covid right now.  I had it a few weeks ago and cared about my wife and infant daughter enough to make sure neither of them got it.  In other news, did you hear The VP went to a Harry Styles concert last week?

MY BABY IS SO CUTE AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH MOMENT:

El Warderino was infected by The VP aka The Host sometime yesterday, but she still slept through the night.  When I went to wake her up this morning, even though she had a little fever, she still was super smiley when she saw me. 

MY BABY IS SO CUTE AND I LOVER SO MUCH, BUT…MOMENT:

After I woke her up this morning and she hit me with that megawatt smile, I realized that she had completely blown out her diaper with Covid poop (the Covid The Host VP infected her with?)

JIMMY GAMBLES:

Believe it or not, I’m actually on a heater gambling (don’t believe it.  I beg you! STOP READING NOW!) My college football picks for this weekend are: UCLA (+5.5), OK State (+6.5), Mississippi State (+21).

K bye.

Marriage Scorekeeping

MY WORLD:

Two Saturdays ago, I watched The Warden all day while The VP partied like a NASTY PARTY GAL IN THE CITYYYYYYYY DOING ALCOHOL AND DANCING AND HARDCORE DRUGS THAT SHE BOUGHT FROM A SKINNY GUY IN AN OLD YELLOW CAR!!!   I had a better time than her because, I don’t know, I love my daughter more than drugs.  Hey, that’s just me! (This your way of seeing if you can start a fight with a blog that brings in no money?) 

The Warden and I had watched college football all day because she just loves football OR she’s a tiny baby who can’t make decisions for herself on account of her not even being able to rollover, much less walk to another room to go watch a murder documentary (the second one.  It’s the second one).  I’d had two beers (responsible) and was about to have my third when The VP came in.  Surprisingly, she was not drunk and promised me that she didn’t buy hardcore drugs from a skinny guy in an old yellow car…but, we don’t have at-home drug tests and talk is cheap.  YOU DECIDE!    

As I left my Lying Wife and went for my third beer something absolutely horrific happened (you saw yourself in a mirror?!), as I reached the fridge: “I…I…don’t want to drink…” (Is there video evidence of this? Didn’t you drink beer in your car one time because you were in such bad traff-)SHUT UP!  Me not wanting a beer on a Saturday night during college football season (during all seasons) could only mean one thing…I was sick.  So I did the thing you do when you know you’re about to get sick but you don’t want to admit it; I sat on the couch in a pouty mood and didn’t really talk. 

Instead, I thought about how unfair life is.  How, I had happily watched The Warden jinx all of my college football bets while my Lying Wife “didn’t buy drugs from a skinny guy in an old yellow car.”  What should have happened is that I would have bankrolled enough points from this selfless, heroic effort that whenever I was invited to hang out with hot guys in the city, The VP would have to return the favor.  Not to mention, VP kinda’ owed me double because of her repeated refusals to send me pics of hot guys in the city that day.  (It’s a fair request and a malicious refusal.  HE LIVES IN THE SUBURBS NOW!  HOW ELSE IS HE SUPPOSED TO SEE WHAT HOT CITY GUYS ARE UP TO THESE DAYS?!?!)

But no.  Now, I was about to get really sick, and she was probably going to have to take the lead on caring for The Warden and I was going to be forced to cash in the points that I had just gained in every married couple’s favorite game, “who owes who what?”  Next time I go to church, the Priest better pack a lunch cuz I’m gonna need some fuckin’ answers.  “Question: if God exists, why would he make me pick all losers on a day I’m solo watching The Warden and then get me immediately sick?…No, I don’t think that could mean that I’m not living the way he wants me to.  I don’t think that at all—ya’ know, Father Marty, what makes you so great?  Huh? How many people have you married that are now divorced?  No, that is relevant!  JUST ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!”  What I’m trying to say is that if God didn’t want me to say “fuck” in church, he shouldn’t have created the word.  I digress.

With my sickness snowballing into “you’re not going to want to drink for days”-territory, I went up to bed at 9PM on a goddamn college football Saturday.  However, wanting to grasp on to my points lead, I told The VP that I’d handle the middle of the night feeding (there are reports circulating that you then went upstairs and almost cried; can you confirm?).  She insisted that she could handle it, but I knew what she was doing and I wasn’t going to stand for it.  If I came down with a case of “dead,” I was gonna do that middle of the night feeding.  POINTS!  I DO IT FOR THE POINTS…and the love of my daughter…BUT MOSTLY THE POINTS!!!!

A few hours later, I woke up still sick (even after 4 whole hours?!) and still obsessed with hanging on to my points lead.  (Wait, he’s not going to actually risk getting his two-month-old sick so he can maintain a lead in a game that only exists in his mind, is he?)  You’re goddamn right I fed that little baby!  Chills and runny nose and sore throat and all, I popped that bottle into her mouth, looked right into the camera and reminded the world that I’M STILL THE CHAMP!!! KING KONG AIN’T GOT SHIT ON ME!!!

Then I tested positive for Covid.

Yet another VERY unchill thing for God to do to me.  Now, in my defense (the jury already hates you) I tested negative when I fed her.  Did I take the test after I fed her?  Huh?  Um, sorry I have a phone call I have to take.  I’m sorry I can’t answer that because I have to take this phone call.  It’s my stock broker advisor.  It’s important and complicated and business.(it’s me, you idiot. You took the test AFTER your snot faucet face hovered over the bottle she had no choice but to feed from.  But hey, I’m sure she didn’t mind.  Who wouldn’t want to be bottle fed by a sweaty, snotty chubbo unsuccessfully trying to hold in coughs?).

Only later that Sunday did I test myself again and test maybe the most positive anyone has ever been for Covid.  Instead of a line, my test actually bought a phone just so it could text me, “dude, you REALLY have Covid.”  And as sick as I was with a sore throat and chills and whatever nobody cares, I was more bothered by A) the guilt and B) the points I was about to give up to The VP.

Obviously, the guilt of wondering if I just gave CuteBabyAngelFace, who also does smugly jinx my college football bets, Covid was not the most fun idea to sit with.  Then, The VP and I had to have the talk where we decide how we want to handle me.  The theoretical plan, that we’d talked about in the past, was that we’d both shrug and be all cool like, “hey, everyone’s gonna get it, so business as usual!”  But, when we were faced with the actual decision of whether we wanted me fully around them, it wasn’t that easy.  After my idea of me renting an apartment in the city to “ask hot guys what they think” was rejected, we ended up settling on me wearing a mask whenever I was around them in the house, and The VP doing all of the feedings for The Warden. The Warden may need to be re-nicknamed Jimmy’s College Football Betting Jinx because that’s the only way to explain how he won ZERO of the bets he wrote about in the last blog post.

I will say between having a hard time swallowing, my head pounding, and my nose running, the VPs “I know I can’t be mad at you for getting Covid, but I’m mad at you for getting Covid”-face was probably my least favorite Coronavirus symptom.  I did discover, however, that being really sick and answering questions like, “how long do you think you’ll be sick?” is a quick way to see if someone has violent tendencies.  I am happy to report that while I did think of violence (blood), I did not act violently when I was repeatedly asked “how long do you think you’ll be sick?” 

Thankfully, it appears that both The VP and The Warden just instinctually plug their noses and hold their breath around me because neither ended up getting Covid (the baby’s turning blue!  TELL SMELLY JIMMY TO GO AWAY!!!) I am unhappy to report, however, that The VP ran the score up on our not real, but also VERY real game of “who owes who what?” The VP handled all of the feedings and cooked for us and didn’t complain and whatever whatever she’s a good wife and I love her don’t tell her whatever whatever. (Romance).

I survived Covid, but I lost so many points in marriage that I might as well be on a ventilator.  Guess I’ll never get to see what those hot city guys are up to nowadays…do they wear flannel?  Is “Gangnam Style” funny again?  Do they…do they even know who Psy is?

I’ll never know.   

OUR WORLD:

As you may have heard, I just got over Covid (nobody’s impressed anymore) and I’m doing a lot of the feedings for The Warden because I’m down ten million points in marriage.  As you can imagine, my brain energy is sapped with the weight of being a forever loser.  Thus, I’d like to present an Official Jimmyschair Ranking of “SEEMINGLY INSIGNIFICANT THINGS THAT MAKE ADULT MEN FEEL LIKE FOREVER LOSERS”

10). Not realizing that a beer bottle isn’t a twist off and trying to twist the cap off until your palm really hurts.

9).  Being asked by a friend if you’ve paid your property taxes and having no idea if you have or not.

8).  Eating a huge lunch on a weekday.

7).  Seeing your wife re-fold the towels that you just folded.

6).  Not being able to wear a watch because it gives your wrist a rash.

5).  Having to use an inhaler in public.

4).  The hat that you’ve been wearing all day somehow coming off and revealing your greasy hat hair.

3).  Getting heartburn after eating something that wasn’t even spicy.

2).  Giving another guy a bro-hug when he clearly was just doing a handshake.

1).  Putting a song on that you love and nobody saying anything about it even after you said, “I just love this song.”  

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When you’re clearly right in a traffic argument and you end up next to the person who was wrong at a red light.  Is there anything better than looking at an idiot (who hopefully doesn’t have a gun) in the car next to you when you both know that they were wrong?

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When there’s not real food in the house, but you’re trying to not be wasteful, so you eat saltines and cheese slices until you can’t breathe.

MY BABY IS SO CUTE AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH MOMENT:

Getting her to smile while singing “Heyyyyy, sexy lady!” from Psy’s forever poignant 2012 superhit, “Gangnam Style.”

MY BABY IS SO CUTE AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH, BUT…MOMENT:

Her morphing into a world champion contortionist while trying to get her to finish the last ounce and a half of her bedtime bottle.  The other night it felt like I was legitimately wrestling with a two-month-old.  I even said “I ain’t goin’ NOWHERE!”

JIMMY GAMBLES:

Yes, I lost all of the picks that I made in my last blog post.  And then I got Covid.  So yeah, I think I was punished enough for that slate.  Unfortunately, I’m currently visiting family in a state right now that doesn’t allow me to gamble, so it looks like I won’t be gambling this week.  Which, in turn, means that it also looks like I will be in a bad mood that I can’t admit to this week.

K bye.

College Football Betting System and Murder

MY WORLD:

You want a real peek behind the curtain? You want to join me in the lab?  Jimmy, you ask, how do you come up with such pristine betting slates week after week after week after week?!?!?  Well, because I love my readers (reader…you love your Dad, Jimmy) I’m going to walk you through the exact process I go through to make my gambling picks for this weekend’s slate of college football games.  Please prepare yourself for some heavy mathematics talk, as there are complicated models, and systems, and excel pivot tables involved in the Jimmyschair gambling process. 

Pull up the Fanduel and ESPN Apps

Jesus, I’ve lost people already, haven’t I?  I KNEW THE TECHNICALITIES WOULD TRIP PEOPLE UP!  So, you open your phone and you tap the Fanduel picture and the ESPN picture (he thinks his readers are the kind of people who have to wear helmets all the time!). This very critical first step of building a gambling slate consists of scanning the early games and also seeing which games are on television.  Who wants to gamble on games they can’t watch?  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do gamble on games I don’t watch, but I need the MAIN game I’m gambling on to include a few bets that I can watch break my heart live.

Focus on the Early Slate (11am) of Games so you can make a ton of money to start your day and definitely not have to make another deposit before the afternoon/night slate of games

Folks, this is called “building the war chest”.  The early slate of games are going to be what we focus on because what we really want is a big, stinky pile of money in our accounts for the primetime afternoon and night games.  This is also the part where The VP of Ops’ 19 phone alarms go off one minute apart from each other. So now I’m watching The Warden start to wake up on her monitor because of these 27 alarms.  My focus on the board is already in peril.  I DON’T NEED THIS TYPE OF ADVERSITY WHILE MAKING MY PRISTINE SLATE!  AND I KNOW THERE’S ANOTHER ALARM ABOUT TO GO OFF AND WHEN IT DOES I’M GOING T—-GODFUCKINGDAMNIT!!!!

Chill Out

Heyyyyyyy, we’re chill, we’re chill.  No, I did not charge up the stairs, dump kerosene on my wife’s phone/never-ending-alarm-clock-device, set it on fire, and then stand over it panting with rageful eyes watching it burn in front of my horrified wife.  I didn’t do that!  Can you say self-restraint?  (We have real concerns.) 

Nope, I simply walked (stomped) upstairs and politely (through gritted teeth) asked the VP of Ops if she would kindly turn the alarms off on her cellular telephone device.  When she replied in the affirmative, I thanked her and gently returned downstairs.  BACK TO THE LAB!

Early Slate Impressions

Maryland at Michigan (-17):

I love betting on Michigan because I love rooting for Michigan.  If you’re not betting on teams you actually want to root for, then please get off the uncomfortable couch that my wife and I got suckered into buying and leave.  Yes, I’m trying to pick games that I can win money on, but uh…I also wanna have fun!  I freaking love having fun! (Reason #472: Why Jimmy’s Bank Account Isn’t Where He Wants It To Be).  But, I don’t love this line.  Maryland is undefeated, and while I think Michigan is really good this year, they haven’t played a real opponent yet.  Is Maryland a real opponent?  I think they’re alright (why? Just because of their record?) Wait…why do I think they’re alright?  Check their wins on the ESPN app and…hmmm…Maryland has only beaten Buffalo, Charlotte, and SMU.  SMU might be an okay win, but they did fire their coach last year so they can’t be that good.  And (reading the ESPN preview of the game now) Maryland’s defense has gotten torched through the air the past two games.

And, it’s going to be THE early game on FOX.  Yeah, we’re betting on this.

Now since I don’t absolutely LOVE the spread on this game, I want to pair the Michigan moneyline (-850) with something that will get us close to even odds.  The O/U is 64.5…which is high still, and I’m trying to focus on bets I CAN ACTUALLY WIN BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN LOSING A LOT LATELY (which is exactly why this is a great idea for a blog.  Who wouldn’t want to read a losers manifesto?!) I’ve got the bet, guys.  I’ve got it.

Parlay the Michigan Moneyline with Ronnie Bell anytime TD scorer and we’re getting that at a lovely -120 odds.  Michigan will win this game, and they’re going to throw the ball LIKE CRAZY on this shitty Maryland passing defense (that you just found out because you read the game preview on the ESPN app) and Ronnie Bell is Michigan’s best receiver.  Boom.

Bet: Michigan Moneyline + Ronnie Bell Anytime TD Parlay (-120)

Kent State at Georgia (-44.5):

Georgia is an absolute psychokiller of a program right now, and I’ve won money on them every week I’ve bet them so far this year which means that will go on forever.  FOLLOW THE TRENDS! 

Something I think that I’ve learned this year (oh here we go!  This drooling dolt has cracked the code!) I used to be really scared to bet huge favorites like this early in the season.  At first blush, it seems insane to bet on a team, no matter how good they are, to beat another by 40 or 50 points like you see a lot in Alabama and Georgia lines.  But, these teams deserve these lines and I think, if anything, they might be a little low because people like me are reluctant to bet on them if they’re EVEN higher.  That’s logical, right? (Wrong.)  So I’m actually getting Georgia at a value here.  Plus they’re at home and have like a thousand 5-stars going against Kent State.  Kent State?!?  (It’s sad that you’re concluding that this simple of thinking is going to beat Vegas.  If you win, it’s pure luck and you won’t admit it.)

Bet:  Georgia -44.5

Clemson (-7.5) at Wake Forest:

I know I’m going to lose this game.  Whichever side I bet, I’m going to lose this.  I have actually watched Clemson in multiple games this year (doesn’t matter, you’re not a scout) and I think D.J. Uiagalelei is in his own head too much to be the quarterback that we thought he’d be after that first game he had against Notre Dame TWO YEARS AGO.  He was a huge recruit and looked awesome in that first game, but since then has kinda’ sucked.  He was awful last year, and then this year has looked very pedestrian.  The Clemson offense seems to be making calls to protect him, rather than unleash him and I know what that looks like (you don’t) because that’s the Bears Mitch Trubisky offense.

So I kinda’ want to take Wake Forest.  They have a veteran quarterback in Sam Hartman who…um, I’ve heard of.  Gotta be a good sign if I’ve heard of the quarterback and vaguely remember analysts speaking of him in glowing terms (relying on hazy, nondescript memories is a surefire way to make winning bets!). Plus, Wake Forest was good last year, and are ranked 21st so far this year.  Yes, Clemson is ranked 5th, but their quarterback…just put in the stud freshman!

So I’m ready to hit Wake Forest.  But…it’s Clemson.  Their defense is still LOADED and (ESPN preview alert) Wake Forest hasn’t beaten them in 13 years.  Are we really going to bet on the basketball school with the quarterback I’ve kinda heard of to beat the 5th ranked team in the country for the first time in 14 years?

Bet: Clemson (-7.5)

Wrapping Up

I feel good about this slate!  It feels realistic because I’m not pairing together long-shots chasing long-odds hoping to make money quick.  That’s not how this works.  We’re here to move the chains.  Little by little.  Run the ball. ONE PLAY AT A TIME!  ONE BET AT A TIME! 

Early Slate:

  • Michigan Moneyline + Ronnie Bell Anytime TD
  • Georgia (-44.5)
  • Clemson (-7.5)
  • Yes, we will also be parlaying these 3 bets together because that’s fun and does have long odds and shut up.

OUR WORLD:

There’s a new show out on Netflix about Jeffrey Dahmer called “Monster: the Jeffrey Dahmer Story” and that fact that it exists makes me feel really gross.  I am aware that we live in a murderer-obsessed society right now, and that The VP of Ops is a charter member of that society, but at some point doesn’t it more than seem that we’re glorifying them?  Aren’t we just glorifying them at this point?

I may be justifying my past interested in stories about murderers (continue) but the documentaries that I’ve watched on them have a different feel about them than a manicured show from Ryan Murphy and starring Evan Peters and other actors and actresses I’ve seen but can’t name off the top of my head.  A documentary about the Golden State killer that’s interviewing the actual victims and detectives that were actually INVOLVED in these crimes acts as a blessing for me to watch them without feeling like a guilt-ridden dope.

Between friends telling me the first episode was the most disturbing show they’ve ever seen, and the trailer that made me want to take a shower, I’m going to pass on the Dahmer show.  He’s a real-life Michael Myers, but worse, and now there’s a show about it that has the victim’s families up in arms.  What part of this is appealing? 

This obsession with murder content is hitting the “wait, why are we totally okay watching and, therefore, celebrating this?”-tipping point.  I hope, at least.  (Explain to us again why you loving “The Patient” is different…)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The Peloton app.  It’s just awesome.  I know this isn’t insightful or whatever, but I pay $13 per month to have unlimited classes by awesome trainers in cycling, strength training, stretching, yoga, running, and more.  I just think it’s great.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Pat McAfee’s outfit schtick is tired and lame.  He’s edgy or funny because he wears a tank top and a gold chain under a sport coat on Gameday?  He’s entering the land of “the funny guy who never really makes you laugh.”

K bye.

Sour Mood Remedies and Coming Clean to my Readers

MY WORLD:

I don’t know exactly why, but I’m in a sour mood today.  As the great Fred Durst sings in your Mother’s favorite ballad “Break Stuff” by Limp Bizkit, “it’s just one of those days, feelin’ like a freight train, first one to complain, leaves with a blood stain.”  (New father, ladies and gentlemen!  So pumped he’s in charge of a newborn’s wellbeing!)  And in the process of trying to come up with something fun (Yay!) and funny (DOUBLE YAY!) to write, I found myself getting bitchier and bitchier (Unfortunately, that means you are a certified bitch.)

Now I know all of the gooey “inspirational” Instagram people tell me that the remedy to my current case of get-the-fuck-away-from-me’s is to “go outside!  Get the sun on you!” (You follow ‘Liver King’ too?) Or to focus on what I’m thankful for, or to go sweat, or go lift heavy weights (Liver King again…I’m surprised the jobless, shirtless neanderthal isn’t leading you down the path to forever happiness!) I know the right things that I should do to shake this off, but I’d like to offer a counterpoint: what about the easy things I can and will do to distract myself from wanting to lie face down on my stairs for no reason?

EUREKA!

I give you, the Official Jimmyschair Non-Gooey Remedies to Being Pissed for No Reason That I Know Won’t Really Work:

Eating while standing.

Now this is one of my favorite past-times.  When you’re bored and in a sour mood and know you should be doing something productive, you aimlessly wander over to the cabinets just “to see what’s goin’ on in there.”   You’re honestly not even sure if you’re going to eat (you are), rather it’s more of a “I wonder if things that I don’t know that I want are now magically in here?”-expedition.  You’re not hungry, but you could eat.  What?  Well, you won’t know until you go through your cabinets slowly, maybe pop a saltine or six, grab a handful of pistachios, wait, what’s behind the popcorn?  Oh, thought it might be pretzels.  Nope, not pretzels.  “Hey Babe, there aren’t pretzels behind the popcorn!”  She didn’t ask, and you don’t call her ‘Babe’, but she should know about the dearth of pretzels.  Good on you for telling her.  Husband of the year.  She should appreciate you.  Does she?  She doesn’t appreciate you enough.  Wow.  Yeah, that’s some bullshit.  BACK TO THE CABINET DAMNIT!

Hmmm, so it seems as if the stuff in the cabinet is exactly the stuff remaining from the last time you went to Costco three weeks ago.  Okay, now we know that.  Check that off your checklist of things you absolutely did not have to do.

But what about the fridge?  Yes! Surely, something different has happened in the steel box that magically makes cold air!  Let’s check that out.  At first glance, it looks as expected, but these things are tricky, so let’s move the milk because there’s no way that those kalamatta olives—yep, the kalamatta olives ARE still there and you still don’t want to eat them.  Don’t throw them out, though.  Listen, just because you haven’t eaten or used them in years(?) doesn’t mean that you should go through the 7 second effort of taking them out of the refrigerator and putting them in the trash.  EVER HEAR OF STARVING CHILDREN?!?!

Clearly, the pull-out drawers are the crown jewel of the fridge.  These are the VIP suites of Castle Fridgerino and if you’re not taking a slice of cheese to see if that’s what will make you feel better, then you might as well get the “am I even human?”-test.  As you chew the slice of swiss cheese, your eyes continue to wander as your brain realizes that the holey cheese slice is not making anything better.  Whoa! How did a pickle jar make it in the pull-out?!?! BETTER TRY ONE TO SEE IF-

REMEDY VERDICT—“ARE YOU STILL IN A BAD MOOD”: Yes, and now you’re fatter too!

Scrolling through Twitter hoping to see someone smart tweeting about how “it’s still way too early to fairly judge [insert favorite struggling sports team’s most important player] Justin Fields,” or a BREAKING NEWS tweet about “Trump is going to jail and we’ll never have to hear from him again.”

When I’m really unsure of why I’m in a douchey mood, the easiest targets for me to unload on are the people commenting on the teams that I care about the most.  The Bears are the team that I care about the most and I am so goddamn tired of watching the same movie over and over again, that I DO NOT need to hear from the POSSIBLY right section of commenters who are telling me to stop having hope.  I know that it’s POSSIBLY the same movie again, but can I at least watch it with the sliver of hope that THIS is the time that it has a happy ending?  (You’re about to turn this into a full-throated Justin Fields defense, aren’t you?) Can we reserve judgement on a 2nd year quarterback, who has played TWO GAMES in a new system with dogshit weapons around him?  (You’re doing it.) These goddamn nerds who pay the $6/month to watch the All-22 on the dopey NFL app, think of themselves as experts because they SEE ONE GODDAMN PLAY WHERE HE DOESN’T HIT AN OPEN RECEIVER! 

I’M STILL IN ON FIELDS (You did it.  Just like you did with Trubisky.  I’m sure this time it’s different, though.)

And on the second point, wouldn’t it just be grand if I ran across a tweet that said Trump was going to jail because everyone finally agreed that he’s a lying crook? 

REMEDY VERDICT—“ARE YOU STILL IN A BAD MOOD”: Yep!

Going to buy essential groceries at Costco and spending an inordinate amount of time in the liquor section thinking “could I become a tequila guy?”

How do you know you’ve become Costco-fied?  When you run out of one or two items that you got there, and think to yourself “the way that you end up saving money over the long haul, is if you get all the little things at Costco only and not spend the extra $1.40 at the local grocery store.”  You tell yourself that you CAN go to Costco and spend less than $300 because you just need a few things.  And what better day to make a QUICK Costco run than the day you’re in a bad mood for no reason? (I hear the crowds and lines at Costco are deceptively calming!)

The big thing of Dunkin Donuts coffee grinds, chicken breasts, and paper towels.  That’s all you need on this trip, and the people that can’t get in and out of Costco as quick as you are, simply put, lower life forms than you.  Jimmy, you really are the best.  Look at you, not even stopping at the TV section.  Yeah, you see how big and bright and affordable they are, but you’re not stopping because you’re here for coffee, chicken, and paper towels.  Hey, they should put a speed limit on you in here because you are—wait.

Wait wait wait. 

The liquor aisle.

Jimmy, you know you’re going to drink.  And, how much gin do you have left from your upcoming Sunday gin-a-thon 500?  I mean…if you want to save over the long haul, you can’t beat the Costco liquor prices.  So yeah, I took a slight detour down the liquor aisle because you can’t beat these prices!  And no, I don’t think buying ONLY the hugest bottles when I buy my liquor means I’m having too much.  Excuse me!  EXCUSE ME! SORRY FOR BEING FRUGLE!

Let’s just see about the gin and…wait.

Wait wait wait.

Tequila bottles are cool.  You’ve seen those George Clooney and his hot friend on their motorcycles drinking the tequila ads.  You don’t drink Tequila, do you Jimmy?  You don’t drink tequila because you once passed out on a bathroom floor after taking tequila shots during a work party when you were 21?  Well dude, you’re 37 now and it seems as if aging guys with some gray hairs—LIKE CLOONEY AND HIS HOT FRIEND!—are drinking tequila.

Next thing I know, I’ve been holding an enormous tequila bottle for six minutes thinking to myself that if I start drinking tequila instead of beer, I’ll lose weight and get to say cool things to my friends like, “I’ve actually started drinking tequila.”  Thankfully, after another 4 minutes of playing that out in my tiny, dumb brain, I’ll realize that tequila and lime will give me heartburn and then I’ll have to eat a lot of Tums and, so should I go buy Tums while I’m here?  No, cuz I’m only here for…what am I here for?

Ahhhh fuck it, when you’re in Costco you might as well make the most of it.  I’ve already got this huge cart!

REMEDY VERDICT—“ARE YOU STILL IN A BAD MOOD”: Yes, and now you’ve spent $400 on meat and seafood that will require you to completely rearrange your freezer…you’re gonna love that!

Applying to the EasyApply jobs on LinkedIn that you think you’d love, but you have no shot at.

I love my current job and that’s not just because there’s a possibility that the people I work with, including my boss, can read this!   (Is that true?  Guys? Can we verify this?) I’M LIVING IN A DREAMWORLD!

But, I have seen women in cool business jeans, who make seven-figures a year, talk about how you should always be open to new opportunities.  They say “you’d be doing yourself a disservice” by not always being open or even looking for new opportunities, and who am I to ignore that kind of advice?  In fact, until my bottom half wardrobe contains more than stretch-waisted pants and shorts, I simply cannot justify ignoring the advice of women I don’t know wearing pants that don’t include elastic.  Hey, if I was super happy in my job would I be in a bad mood for no reason?  I highly doubt that people that like their jobs find themselves in a random bad mood!

So I’ll start scanning LinkedIn to make the ladies wearing real pants proud, and I’ll look for jobs that “feed my soul.”  Unfortunately, these jobs are creative jobs that I have no real experience in, but then I remember: it’s okay to dream!  (Lotta issues here.)  What’s the worst they could say? No?  Hell, I’m more familiar with the word ‘no’ than I am with the majority of my extended family.  BRING ON THE NO’S!!!

The “Content Writer” position for a company you’ve never heard of looks good, especially when you that in parentheses it says “Home”.  I get to stay home and write content!?! DREAM JOB ALERT!  But as I scan the rest of the posting (don’t lie, your eyes went here first) you don’t see the little blue “in” box signifying that it’s an “Easy Apply” position.  Which means….ugh….you’re going to have to upload a resume and….ugh…write a cover letter.  IT’S SUCH BULLSHIT THAT A COMPANY LOOKING TO HIRE A WRITER IS REQUIRING THE APPLICANTS TO WRITE A COVER LETTER! 

Screw that, yeah, I’m a dreamer, but I also have responsibilities!  Hello? I’m a father with a lawn to poorly maintain!  So sorry, but I only have time to click the “Apply” button for a job and answer a maximum of 6 easy questions if you’re looking for me to apply for your job.

REMEDY VERDICT—“ARE YOU STILL IN A BAD MOOD”: Yes because you know that the jobs on LinkedIn “EasyApply” aren’t real jobs and are just there to suck in the lazy morons like you to spend more time on the LinkedIn site.  At least you’ve confirmed yourself a moron now!

Putting something away.

(With a headline like this, it’s incredible that some site isn’t paying you to write for them!!!)  Pacing around the house trying to reconcile this inexplicable mood always leads to seeing something, anything out of place, angrily picking it up and putting it away while muttering “unbelievable,” to yourself while simultaneously shaking your head. 

For me, typically, it’s a pair of socks that I took off the night prior while watching TV with the VP of Ops.  You see, she and I both love when I take my socks off on the couch, and then stash them between the couch cushions instead of bringing them upstairs to the laundry hamper.  Why do we love that? Because the next day, we get a “hey, those are Jimmy’s dirty socks from last night”-surprise when we sit on the couch!  It’s great because it makes both of us hate me at the same time.  If that’s not marital bonding, I don’t know what is!

Buuuuuut, that next morning when you see them, and angrily march them towards your upstairs hamper, there’s a chance that these misplaced dirty socks are the true source of my inexplicable mood.  In fact, the angrier you act towards your own laziness, the greater chance there is of exorcising these foreign morning demons.  Right?

REMEDY VERDICT—“ARE YOU STILL IN A BAD MOOD”: Yes.  Plus, since spiking your socks in your bedroom hamper, you’ve also realized that it’s time to do laundry, but the only empty hamper you have in your room is the one with the broken handle.

GODFUCKINGDAMNIT!

OUR WORLD:

I’ve been avoiding it, but I care about the nine people that read this blog too much to not come clean…I’m out on “House of the Dragon”.  (Gasp! Nobody cares.) I know what I wrote about giving it six episodes, and that I wrote that the third one actually roped me back in, but 1) I’m a liar, and 2) I guess that third episode didn’t rope me back in. 

The more I thought about that third episode, the more I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t as good as I wanted and needed it to be.  The last two Sundays, when I told the VP that there was a new “House of the Dragon” on, she gave me the “I will definitely fall asleep during it, if you put that on later”-face.  And I don’t blame her!  We gave that show more than a full feature-length movie’s worth of time to rope us in, and sorry, it didn’t! 

Ask yourself this question: if you watched a three hour movie, and at the end didn’t really like it, would you go see the sequel that was coming out the next week?  Probably not.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The new Death Cab for Cutie album, “Asphalt Meadows”, is fantastic.  Yes, I’m biased, but this album sounds like vintage Death Cab, with melancholy lyrics and tinny guitars.  I don’t know the technical term for why their guitar parts sound like they do, but the word that popped into my head was “tinny”.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The VP and I started watching the new season of “The Voice” last night.  And you know what? I really love that show.  Especially the early episodes, it’s fun to talk about who you like and why and make fun of the dumb shit Gwen Stefani is wearing.  (Isn’t this section supposed to be about hating something?) BUT! It’s hard to get into a singing competition show that has been on for 20 SEASONS and hasn’t produced one star that I can think of or remember.  I googled “Most Famous Winners of The Voice” last night and got a bunch of names and faces of people that even their parents forgot about. 

MY BABY IS SO CUTE AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH MOMENT:

The Warden doesn’t rest on my shoulder.  Instead, she claws, and grunts, and squirms while trying to climb up my chest.  She sounds like a grunty tree frog with an unquenchable thirst for the freedom beyond my shoulder.  As The Warden claws at my collar, and tries to shadow swim up my chest, I get a real kick out of faking her voice to say: “I will reach that window just past your shoulder! And I will open that window and ESCAPE TO THE FREEDOM I SO RIGHTLY DESERVE!!!”

MY BABY IS SO CUTE AND I LOVER SO MUCH, BUT…MOMENT:

Ya know, the crying sucks.

JIMMY GAMBLES:

I went 2-3 in my college football picks that I gave out last week, but no, I do not wish to speak about the Nebraska moneyline pick that I was so excited to sprinkle.  I will be back ahead of this weekend’s slate of games with another 5 picks, but at least now you know what to expect with my picks.  (We do! They’re not that good and the reasoning behind them is flawed!)

K bye.

Fake Home Improvements and College Football Check-In

MY WORLD: 

I just paid $175 to have my driveway painted black and now I’m going to dress up as a raccoon and call animal control in the hopes that they’ll think I’m actually a raccoon and shoot me.  I know it’s not paint (then why did you say paint?) but whatever the Irish guys who just seal-whatevered my driveway with definitely makes no difference to the “lifespan” of my driveway.  What was gonna happen?  If I didn’t have old Irish guys dump black (don’t say paint) sealant shit on my driveway, would my driveway have just POOF disappeared?  Like, I’d come home one day and there’d just be a sinkhole to the hell I belong in because I didn’t have Maurice O’Reagan kick a bucket of black bullshit down my perfectly not-going-anywhere driveway? 

I guess it looks better black than the faded gray it was before, but I’m not even sure if that’s true of if I’m just trying to convince myself of that because of the money I spent.  And this is what it’s like to own a home in the suburbs—spending money on stuff for the sake of “I guess we have to do this?” and then convincing yourself afterwards that you weren’t taken for a ride.  What else, you ask, have I spent money on here that I’m pretty sure did nothing other than allow me to say “yeah, you’ve just gotta do that when you own a home”?  Oh, I’ve got some DOOZIES!

Reinforcing a wall

When we moved in our inspector told us that a foundational wall “might” be kinda cracking and that we “may” want to look into getting that checked out.  GEE, THANKS FOR THE SPECIFICS MR. INSPECTOR!  So I called four “Is my house gonna fall down cuz of this wall thing”-companies to come over and check if my house was going to fall down cuz of this wall thing.  Thankfully, all four of these companies had WILDLY different opinions and offers on potential remedies.  Comforting!

So, I went with the company that I had heard of the most before (the ones with the billboards?). Basically, I picked the company responsible for potentially reinforcing a wall that could lead to the rest of my house crumbling based on having seen their billboards before.  So what did I pay for?

The company whose billboards I remembered sent two guys over to drill four steel beams into the left wall of my garage.  The big screws they used to screw the beams into the wall only went in part of the way, so now these screws just stick out and all I think is “are these beams even in the wall?”  Two-plus years later I’m convinced that I paid a billboard company five figures to rest some steel beams against my garage wall (yeah, you’ve just gotta buy steel beams to rest against a wall when you own a home).

Seeding your yard.

There is no doubt in my mind that all yard seed is are pebbles that fat guys named Scott stomped on and put in a green bag.  Over the two-plus years I’ve been here now, I’ve spent hundreds of dollars on yard seed and my yard looks exactly as mediocre as it did when I moved in.  Want to know how I look and sound when going into a hardware store to buy yard seed?

“Hey,” says the walking booger in the stained t-shirt.

“Hello Booger, how may I help you today?” Responded the trim older gentleman in the bright red Ace Hardware vest

“You give bag. I give card,” slobbered the booger.

“A bag of yard seed, yes!  I think you should go with whichever one I point to because I’m a trim older gentleman wearing a red vest and you, as you well know, are a booger.  So I’m going to give you the more expensive one that is the same as all the rest, but has a nicer picture on the bag!  You like pictures, don’t you?”

“I like pitchers!”

And then I give my credit card to the cashier who proceeds to run it and spit on it before handing it back to my smiling, snot-like face.

“Thank you for bag!”

“Thank you for being a booger with a credit card!”

Getting drainage units checked yearly.

My house has a sophisticated drainage system that does need to be checked by the company that installed it once a year, but does not, unfortunately, stop my basement from being flooded like it was the first year we moved in.  Before we moved in, I noticed stains on the basement floorboards and asked if there had ever been ever flooding.  I knew there had been, but was hoping that the person who would only get paid if I bought the house would lie to me.  And guess what?  He lied to me!  YAY!!!!

Mr. “Those aren’t stains on the floorboards, those are designs!” told me all about how the basement had been dry ever since the previous owners had NASA install this drainage system.  The only drawback is that I had to have NASA, astronauts and all, come out once a year to walk around my basement, say “it’s fine” and then charge me $200.  It was cool when our basement flooded after the “It’s Fine” Astronaut gave his stamp of approval.  But not as cool as me calling and paying this guy AFTER my temporary basement lap pool incident, and thinking that it’s doing anything other than giving me the ability to tell someone that I had my drainage system checked.

There’s a block party on our block this Saturday and there’s no chance I won’t tell some guy I just met that I just had my drainage system checked. 

OUR WORLD:

I love college football and so I’m going to write about it more.  If you don’t like sports, stop reading now and please do not text me that I should stop writing about sports in this section because it’s my goddamn blog and I MAKE THE DECISIONS HERE.

The things I would do to go to a college football tailgate this weekend would horrify most of the readers of this blog (oh no, don’t horrify all 4 of them!).  Mid-September, quarter-zip weather is meant to be spent on grassy fields with a plastic cup (full of juice?!) in one hand, and a cornhole bag in the other.  College football comes back in late August, but it’s not really BACK until we’re all finally able to turn off our AC, open the windows, and argue with your wife who prefers you to keep the windows closed because “all of the bugs” come in when the windows are open.  And guys, guess what?  I had that argument with my wife a mere 3 days ago!  COLLEGE FOOTBALL IS OFFICIALLY BACK!

In honor of getting through the first three weeks of “wait, who’s good?” I’d like to go through some questions, statements, and predictions I have about the college football landscape.

First, THE QUESTIONS

How can Notre Dame be in the midst of ANOTHER season without a stud quarterback?

This is the school of Joe Montana and Touchdown Jesus, and I don’t care how long ago that was, how can their best quarterback be a guy named Tyler who throws every ball like he’s apologizing?  “Here sorry!”  Hand way up, I hate Notre Dame (Jesus knows…which is why the Bears will suck forever), but their tradition and uniforms are on the top tier of the college football world, and isn’t that what attracts high-level recruits?  It seemingly does for them on the other side of the ball, and tight ends, and o-lineman, but not quarterback?  How can a recruiting pitch that goes: “Hey Troy, we have the best offensive line in the country, a rotation of first round tight ends who can’t wait to be huge and catch everything for you, great looking uniforms, every game televised on NB-fuckin-C, and Joe Montana as an alum.  So, tell me again why you’re picking Penn State over us?” 

Or how about nabbing ANY ONE of the countless starting quarterback transfers that switched schools over the past couple years?  Hey Notre Dame fans, how would you like Caleb Williams, Quinn Ewers, Kedon Slovis, Dillon Gabriel, or Jaxson Dart look as your starting quarterback right about now?  You were SO sold on Tyler “Wait, No!” Buchner that you couldn’t beat out Pitt or Ole Miss for a top-tier QB transfer?  Cool, your defense and tight ends are good, but they’re not Georgia/Bama-WOW, and until they are, dream on about being any sort of real competitor with this rotation of forgettable quarterbacks.

Is Anthony Richardson incredible or bad?

I have no idea how you go from looking like a better Cam Newton against a well-coached Utah team one week to a worse Tyler Buchner (didn’t you already dump on this kid enough?!) against a well-coached Kentucky team the next. 

When is Clemson going to be honest with themselves about the D.J. Uiagalelei game at Notre Dame from 2 years ago?

Can we finally conclude that game was just a fluke?  He looked amazing then, and I’m also shocked that he hasn’t turned into the next surefire Top 10 QB to come out of Clemson, but we’ve seen enough now, right?  He’s the Jay Cutler of college football—there’s BIGTIME talent there, but there’s also a parade of excuses to explain away his countless mistakes.  Last year it was the o-line and receivers and him losing his confidence, but through two games this year it’s clear that not much is better.  How can you tell?  His coaches are trying to protect him with their play-calling and the analysts calling the game are talking about how he “just needs to regain his confidence.”  As a Bears fan who has spent my entire fandom unearthing excuses for poor quarterback play, I know ‘em when I see ‘em and I’m seeing these types of excuses with D.J. and Clemson.  When’s the last quarterback you saw regain lost confidence?  The great ones never lose it.

Now, THE STATEMENTS

USC has the best coach-quarterback-receiver trio in the country.

Goddamnit I hate writing this, but I bet on Stanford this past weekend because I hate USC and wanted them to lose (sound betting strategy).  They did not lose.  They were not close to losing.  Their offense had the “we’re going to score whenever we feel like it”-look.  Every receiver was wide open on every route and every pass was right on the money.  If you haven’t watched their offense, you haven’t seen the best passing attack in college football yet.  It’s terrifying.  Caleb Williams is the best quarterback in the country, Jordan Addison is the best receiver in the country, and Lincoln Riley is the best playcaller in the country.  THAT FUCKING SUCKS FOR UCLA FANS LIKE ME!!!

I don’t know if their defense is any good, but that offensive trio of coach-qb-wr will make all fanbases going against it think their best chance is “maybe we’ll just get lucky and a rogue Russian missile will hit the side of this stadium so they’ll have to cancel this game?”

Bryce Young is a fantastic college quarterback who will be a fantastic backup pro quarterback.

What does he do that’s GREAT?  He has great composure, I agree.  We’ve seen it against Auburn last year and against Texas this past weekend, where he doesn’t freak out with his team down late.  That’s a nice attribute to have, but it doesn’t make you an elite quarterback at the next level.  He’s athletic, but not electric.  His arm is good, but he doesn’t make wow throws.  He’s really small.  Like, the kind of small that has never succeeded in the NFL.  Who is his comp?  Or who’s even close?  Right now, the closest guys to his size starting in the league are Baker Mayfield and Kyler Murray, but both of those guys are thick enough to take hits.  I also think Bryce is just as short as Kyler without his body or moves.  He’s Charlie Ward 2.0 and there’s a reason Charlie won the Heisman and STILL opted to play in the NBA over the NFL.  He doesn’t just look skinny, he looks short AND skinny (hey, you’re short!)

ESPN has to do the hard thing and stop letting Lee Corso talk on the live portion of “College Gameday”.

When I was younger it was easy making fun of Corso stumble over his words because I didn’t understand the nature of ESPN’s predicament.  Their beloved gameday host had a stroke and to help boost his mindset and recovery, they allowed him back on the air with the help of some awesome co-hosts who LOVE him like family.  It’s a heartwarming story that makes me feel like a dick for the jokes I said and texted about him years prior. 

While my guilt complex grabs the sledgehammer from the garage, can we finally ask ESPN to make the hard decision and tell Lee that it’s time he stop contributing to the live portion of the show?  This sucks to write and I hate that I am (so…don’t?), but he cannot do the job anymore.  Pre-tape his segments for as long as he wants to do that, but putting him on the live show and watching him struggle like this is like watching your elderly family member get into a car you know they shouldn’t be driving anymore and telling your sister, “I’m not gonna be the one to take that away from him.”  Eventually, something really bad happens that’ll make you think “we probably should’ve taken that away from him.”

Finally, THE PREDICTIONS

Nebraska is going to beat Oklahoma this Saturday.

My Dad always told me that you never want to fight someone with nothing to lose.  When a team gets to the point where every game has the potential to determine whether their coach is fired or not, it’s already too late.  Especially in college, that type of scrutiny and resulting pressure is hard to overcome without ELITE-level talent.  Nebraska has talent, but not elite, and that’s why they buckled and Scott Frost got fired.

So now they have an interim coach who probably has no chance to retain the job long-term, and a group of players who have been given up on.  College football is awesome because cheesy storylines and motivation and passion CAN carry a group of less-talented 19 year-olds past the group of more-talented 19 year-olds.  Nebraska is a home double-digit underdog against an old rival with a shiny new coach and quarterback.  This is Nebraska’s new start and their quarterback, Casey Thompson, threw for 5 TDs against Oklahoma last year while at Texas in a game that they should have won.    Nebraska has the players to win, and nothing to lose.

USC is making the playoff and Caleb Williams is winning the Heisman.

Their toughest remaining conference games are against Utah, and UCLA.  So they’re winning the Pac-12 unless Utah goes into Utah-mode where they beat teams they’re not as talented as because Kyle Whittingham is a Top 5 coach in the country (he is).  But the three most important positions in college football are Coach, Quarterback, and Receiver and that’s why I will not be betting against them for the rest of the year.  Last year, Alabama had some holes on their roster, but they were able to make the title game because they had Nick Saban, Bryce Young, and Jameson Williams.  That’s this year’s USC team.

Caleb Williams and Jordan Addison will both be taken in the Top 15 of whichever draft they’re in, and Lincoln Riley has never had an offense short of incredible.  Pssst…Jordan Addison is the best receiver Riley has ever gotten to work with.  The only defense that could slow them down is Notre Dame in their last game of the year, but there’s no chance you’re betting on the Notre Dame team that just lost to Marshall to come up and beat the Heisman trophy winner.

Georgia is going to repeat as National Champion in a blowout title game victory.

Their defense looks just as good as last year, and their offense is better because their tight ends are terrifying and Stetson Bennett is a good college quarterback.  Although, how hard is it really to be a good college quarterback when you have nine tight ends who are 6’7”, 260lbs who run a 4.4?  (Ask Notre Dame!)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Taking a 20 minute nap, waking up and feeling like you just got a full 8 hours.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Napping.  It’s for babies.

MY BABY IS SO CUTE AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH MOMENT:

The warden has started smiling at me and that’s a really cool moment.  Yesterday, she did it when I was pretending I was a DJ and she was the mixing board (?) the thing DJ’s use to make the wicka-wicka sounds?  You know what I’m saying.  I was the DJ and I was pretending her tummy was the record that makes the wicka-wicka sound.  Shut up, she smiled.

MY BABY IS SO CUTE AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH, BUT…MOMENT:

A couple nights ago, she wasn’t crying, but more like yelling for about two straight hours.  For the first ten minutes of her “ahhh!” I thought it was kinda’ funny and was relieved that it wasn’t rolling scream cries.  I thought “hey, she has graduated from scream cries to just hearing how her voice sounds.”  But after two straight hours of hearing the tiny human in the rocking swing yell “AHHHH!!!!” I, too, was rocking back and forth yelling “AHHHH!!!!”

JIMMY GAMBLES:

I’m going to start keeping track of my weekend picks for you because I’m feeling like I’ve been hot and I want to get the proper credit for that. If you followed my last post, you’d remember that I told you to bet the Bears over the Niners and that was SPOT ON BECAUSE I’M A GODDAMN GAMBLING GENIUS WHO NOT ENOUGH PEOPLE ARE TALKING ABOUT. So…since NOBODY has congratulated me on that great call, I will be keeping track going forward.  This, ladies and gentlemen, can also be called “the time Jimmy jinxed the rest of his future bets”:

–Georgia (-24.5) v. South Carolina

–Nebraska (+11) v. Oklahoma

            -Sprinkle the moneyline here

–BYU (+3.5) v. Oregon

–Washington (-3.5) v. Michigan State

–UTSA (+12.5) v. Texas

K bye.

A Message to Liars and NFL Predictions

MY WORLD:

Sometimes when I get in the shower, after looking myself in the mirror, lifting my shoulders and saying “not bad”, I think that this lifting and not-dieting thing is actually working.  This logic, a fantastic discovery according to my shower-brain, draws a correlation between thinking about your diet and weight gain: the more you think about what you’re eating, the more you gain from what you’re eating.  A breakthrough, to put it mildly, in the weight-loss world.  “If I just don’t think about gaining weight, but I do think about being healthy, then I shall be healthy.”  My shower-brain is imaginative and optimistic and nice, and that’s what I want to be.  I want to be my shower-brain.

Unfortunately, my after-shower-brain, has the personality of sandpaper, and the tact of a goddamn two-by-four to the back of the head.  Now, was it my fault, that I tried putting on a t-shirt I KNEW wasn’t going to fit right after I got out of the shower and in front of my bedroom mirror?  Or, was it my shower-brain’s fault for gently whispering “it’s working, Jimmy.  All you have to do is believe!” as I rifled through the “dude, it’s been years since these fit right”-part of my shirt drawer.  I like my shower-brain, so let’s just take it easy on SB.  I believed!  I put the pink shirt on (you can’t make fun of that color anymore cuz it’s offensive so shut up, asshole) and what I thought was still my shower-brain grunted, “look in the mirror.”  Lo and behold, the tightness I was feeling around my midsection was NOT my silly imagination playing a classsssssic tummy goof on me “tehehehe, you’re not fat! Gotcha!”  No.  My mirror revealed a tire-like midsection, which caused my after-shower-brain, the one you see in italics throughout many Jimmyschair posts, to roar with the brand of mean-spirited laughter typically found in judging panels from early 2000s reality shows.  “You’re fat.  Now put on the bigger workout shirt, and leave.”  But…but! “Those khakis you wore a few months back that you’re scared to try on again?  Yeah, no chance.  Goodbye.  NEXT!”

That’s also exactly what having my student loans is like.  (Did somebody say CURVEBALL?!?!?!). Most days I don’t dwell on the fact that there’s a big number that exists solely to hurt MY feelings.  Be it on the scale or on the student loan website, which can be found by simply typing ThisWillReallyBumYouOut.com into the address bar on your web browser, there are numbers that exist to throw your shower-brain down a flight of metal-edged stairs (you just have to BELIEVE you’re going to land softly!) 

I’ve been thinking a lot about my student loans, um, always (and also about your fat midsection, tell them about that again!) but especially since news of the forgiveness plan and end of the payment pause.  A lot of people have politically-aligned opinions on this plan that, as my after-shower-brain would put it, piss me the fuck off.  Fully embracing my after-shower-brain, I’d like to address the people against student loan forgiveness.

I don’t think I’m entitled to anything.  Really.  And honestly, I have so much student loan debt that this forgiveness plan really doesn’t help me much at all.  This forgiveness plan is the equivalent of me sneezing before putting on the tiny pink shirt this morning (not tiny, just a medium) and thinking the resulting weight loss from that sneeze would help the fit of that teeny tiny baby shirt.  A medium?  My student loans shop in the “Wow, this big?” section of the Big and Tall store.

And it’s this weight that gives me the credibility to have a fucking opinion on this plan.  A credibility, that I would gleefully shed myself of if ever offered, that is lacking from most of the people I have heard, seen and read sharing their opinions.  If you’re not fat, don’t talk about how hard it is being fat!  Instead of commenting on individual facebook posts or text message chains or writing in to some stupid news opinion douche, I’d like to say here that if you have an opinion on this forgiveness plan, without having any experience carrying any student loan debt, kindly grab a sock from the bottom of your laundry hamper, push it FAR down your throat, and choke on it.

Congratulations if you went to school 50-plus years ago when tuition was eight dollars, or if you had parents who worked hard enough to earn the kind of money that disqualifies loans from your equation, or if you didn’t go to school because it was too expensive and now find yourself in a job that pays you well enough to buy a computer that gives you the ability to write “not my problem” in the Facebook comment section.  Sincerely, congratulations. 

I know that a major part of your opposition is rooted in a desire for the people benefitting from this plan (me) to acknowledge the superiority of the people not benefitting from this plan (you).  I wish I was one of you people.  You people are in a better situation than I am, and I full-heartedly admit to being jealous of you.  This is not an argument about who is better.  You are.  I admit that.  My name is honesty.  Have we met?

It appears not, unfortunately, as you continue to try sheathing this an argument behind the “well, I shouldn’t have to pay for your bad financial decision”-curtain.  Hey Oz, we all know this is just about you not getting something that me and the rest of the regretful fatsos who believed a degree would lead them to your promised land are getting.  You’re not getting something that others are, and you’re pissed.  So can you at least stop lying about why you’re pissed?  You’re not pissed about having to “foot the bill.”  You’re fucking not, liar.  This will be paid for by the federal government adding to a deficit, which you don’t understand but are pretending to online.  Eventually, could our taxes be raised slightly?  Maybe.  Or, could it be paid for by…spending 17 trillion instead of 18 trillion dollars on the defense budget?  Or, by maybe making Amazon pay more than zero dollars in taxes?  Or, by the same way we paid for the bank bailouts, airline bailouts, auto bailouts, or whateverthefuck bailouts that came before that you had ZERO opinion about?

I know you’re the kind of person that loves saying “life isn’t fair.”  So think about that for a second.  Done?  Great.  Life also evolves and we should attempt to correct mistakes unearthed over time and help people that could really use it, right?  What because you were hazed when you joined the Alpha Sigma Dickhead, every person that joins that frat for the rest of time should also have to eat shit and chug Smirnoff?  There are young adults and aging parents who have been shaken down by the higher education system for DECADES that are finally getting to catch their breath.  You’re screaming at people who are running from a burning building that is chasing them. 

These are people that would not have been able to go to school without these predatory loans with obscene interest rates that enriched college administrators while graduate students taught undergraduate classes for pennies.  When I was a graduate student at UCLA, I taught an undergraduate class.  I was totally unqualified, leaned on watching film and television clips WAY TOO MUCH, and was paid like $100 per week.  Those undergraduate students were paying upwards of $30,000 a year to take classes from a dope like me who would put on an episode of “Frasier” to eat up 30 of the 50 minute class.  These universities robbed people blind and just because you didn’t see robbery in real-time doesn’t give you the right to blame the victims for not being more aware of their surroundings.  (Pretty sure 18 year-old UCLA students probably knew you were too dumb to be teaching them, though.)

I, on the other hand, do have that right and do blame myself.  I don’t deserve this forgiveness.  I went to graduate school at 23 and took out an obscene amount of loans without properly evaluating how that would impact my life going forward.  It’s a decision that I wrestle with on a daily basis because saying you regret going to school is something nobody wants to hear.  But, I think I do regret it.  And I wish that there was more education before “my education” about what carrying loans really means for your future.  And I wish that I would’ve just read a bunch of books about screenwriting instead of being sucked into an unbelievable marketing campaign that made me believe that simply by attending UCLA, I would become a professional screenwriter.  I learned a ton in Westwood, but it’s all about hard work.  I know that now, and I should have known that then.  But I got caught up in the power of “belief” (goddamn shower-brain) and ended up docusigning myself into an adulthood of playing financial catch-up. 

The medium pink shirt is too tight for me to wear because I’ve been eating too many carbs and not doing enough cardio.  I do not deserve this student loan forgiveness, and I regret making the decision to earn an MFA from UCLA. 

Your turn.

OUR WORLD:

It’s a beautiful Friday and I just wrote a pretty angry “My World” section.  So….(awkwardly putting your hands in your pockets and rocking back in forth)…what else is going on?

The NFL starts this weekend and I have some predictions I would like to share about the upcoming season:

  • We’re all going to be annoyed having to watch Thursday Night Football on Amazon Prime.
    • The games usually suck, we know that now, so having to take the extra 9 seconds to find the Amazon app on our Smart TVs is going to really take our anger to the next level.  (How did someone so lazy ever run a marathon?  And, no, that was not a sly way of reminding people that you ran a marathon.)
    • I ran a marathon.
  • The Packers are going to win the NFC and Aaron Rodgers is going to revel in a “Going to the Super Bowl means I was right about Covid”-season.
    • He still wasn’t right about Covid, though.
  • Kyler Murray is going to win the MVP.
    • How do you get paid and somehow become more motivated than before?  Have the entire NFL world call you a lazy dummy and your lead receiver get suspended for 6 games.  I don’t know what has happened to Kyler and the Cardinals late in the season the past two years, but I kinda think it’s just flukey.  I love that he’ll be throwing to fellow former-Sooner Hollywood Brown, the Cardinals will surprise people in a weak NFC, and I think Kingsbury is…don’t say it…actually good at calling offense.  The defense will suck and the Cardinals will lose in the first round of the playoffs, but Kyler’s going off this season.
  • The Bucs will not make the playoffs.
    • This is all a bet on Tom Brady not being great this year.  I think his off-season went like this–he retired with a secret plan to get to the Dolphins.  When the Dolphins thing fell through, and Giselle then found out about the secret plan, she got pissed and left him.  Solo Tom was then alone at home and said, “well, I guess I should just go play football then.”   So he went back to the Bucs without really wanting to go back there, and now he’s a 45 year-old quarterback who only kinda’ wants to be there. 
  • The Carolina Panthers will make the playoffs.
    • Baker Mayfield is significantly better than Sam Darnold, and Christian McCaffery is the best dual-threat running back in the league.  I like the players they have on defense, and they’re in a division with Marcus Mariota, Jameis Winston, and Tom “I guess I’ll play” Brady.  Give me a pissed off Baker in a contract year.
  • This is the last year of the currently-constituted FOX pregame show
    • Terry, Howie, and Jimmy just kinda suck now and this is the year FOX finally realizes that Terry Bradshaw isn’t funny, and Michael Strahan isn’t interesting.  NFL pregame shows, in general, need a total makeover, and I think it starts after this year.  Why not copy the “College Gameday” format and do the shows from tailgates at the biggest games of the week?

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The new Steve Carell show, “The Patient”, on FX. 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

That new movie with The Rock.  We all know it’s going to suck and we need to tell every teenager who’s thinking of buying a ticket not to because it will only encourage more sucky movies being made in the future.

JIMMY GAMBLES:

I actually forgot one last NFL prediction for this season….

The Bears will beat the 49ers on opening weekend.

Bears moneyline is currently +250.

K bye.

Mid-30s Partying and Best Shows of the Year

MY WORLD:

The VP of Ops and I hosted a party on Saturday, which meant that we passive aggressively fought most of Friday.  You see, as you steamroll through your thirties, the process of hosting a party goes from “FUN!” to “They’re going to say something about our baseboards!”  Parties quickly double in size due to kids and my guilt complex, and the point of said party becomes less about watching college football, drinking beer and everyone telling me how amazing my brisket is, and more about making sure kids don’t melt down, and convincing your spouse that nobody has noticed any one of the 849 home issues you’re both insecure about (Totally!  Nobody noticed the dirt patches throughout your backyard that could be solved easily if you hired someone, but you refuse because you’re cheap and claim that you’re going to take care of them, but you have no idea how to so you just keep buying whatever product the old guy at the hardware store tells you to but it doesn’t help NOT EVEN CLOSE TO HELPING and you think the next one will but it won’t and you know that but you buy it anyway because you don’t learn from your past and maybe you should hire someone oh wait, that’s right, YOU’D RATHER SPEND MONEY GAMBLING ON COLLEGE FOOTBALL THAN FIXING THE DIRT PATCHES IN YOUR BACKYARD THAT AMANDA AND MIKE ARE DEFINITELY TALKING ABOUT ON THEIR RIDE HOME FROM YOUR STUPID FUCKING “LOOK AT MY DUMB BRISKET” PARTY!!!)

It was a lovely little time!  I honestly just don’t get why I don’t remember the process of preparing for and hosting a party in your mid-thirties (mid? Pal, that 7 means LATE!) So, in an effort to avoid the pitfalls that I cannonball into EVERYTIME I host a party now, I am going to write out what to expect “before the party” and what to expect “during the party”.  I sincerely hope that this roadmap will help all of us navigate the spousal arguments better the next time around:

Before The Party

  • The VP of Ops is going to tell you that she will take care of cleaning the first floor, but that you have to clean the sunroom and bathrooms.  Is this an example of her giving you the worst two rooms to clean? Yes.  Will you say anything about that? No.  However, when you tell her that you will clean both of them after you do all of the shopping and barbecuing/smoking/cooking, she won’t believe you and will be kinda’ pissed at you the whole time she’s cleaning the rest of the first floor.
    • Tip for Next Time:  Clearly, cleaning the sunroom and bathrooms right away would be a quick way to avoid any sort of conflict.  BUUUUUUUUT, since you don’t want to do that because it’s boring and un poco grosso, buy her flowers when you go shopping for all of the food.  Those flowers will buy you at least 4 hours AND if she does actually lash out and get mad, you can point to those because she didn’t get you a present AND THIS IS ALL ABOUT RACKING UP POINTS!!!
  • Your idea of everyone’s kids just taking care of themselves so you can watch football is…um…impossibly stupid.  You and your friends will not be gathered around the television high-fiving about UCLA beating a Bowling Green in front of 8 people at The Rose Bowl (yeah dude, nobody in Illinois cares about UCLA, and even the 8 people in LA that do know that they’re not going anywhere this year or…ever.  But yeah, buy some more expensive Jordan-brand team gear!)  You’ll have the game on when people arrive, but then quickly realize that sitting and watching it will be perceived as rude and lazy (if the shoe fits!)  What you all will be doing is watching each other’s kids in between drink-chugging beers and realizing that what matters to you most now is being your friend’s kids’ favorite uncle.  Is it a competition?  You bet your fucking ass it is.
    • Tip for Next Time:  Pick the 4-hour timeframe to be during a group of games that you don’t really care about because you’re not going to see a snap.  Then, to get ahead in the “which Dad do all of the kids like the most?”-competition, you’re going to need to bring 3 things: 1) Energy 2) Sugar 3) Weird voices.  The plan for next time is to have secret candy giveaways, and while Tootsie Pops have been my typical go-to, lets switch it up and go with little York peppermint patties.  Why?  Because they’re awesome and unique enough that kids may start remembering you as the “Peppermint Patty Daddy” which is a SIIIIIIICK nickname that you’re not pushing, but maybe someone should? (This is a thing of yours, huh?  Just forcing nicknames?  How about “Chubby”?). Finally, you’re gonna need to debut a weird voice for the kids because this deep one you’ve been using is STALE.  So practice the offensive Italian accent thing that you’ve broken out once or twice before.  You’re gonna need more than just yelling for the kids to make you “aaaaaspaghetti and a spicy meatball!”
  • You’re going to attempt to make some food dish in an effort to impress people and distract them from the fact that you have dirt patches in your backyard and you could pay to have fixed but don’t beca—I’ll stop.  And you’re going to feel compelled to invite more people than you should because the worst thing that can happen to you, in life, is for people to see a picture on IG (just write Instagram, loser) and then make some comment to you, like “oh, guess my invite got lost in the mail.”  What this will mean is that you should make much more than you’re originally planning to, but you’re going to push against that because you’re kinda’ cheap and don’t want to spend more money.  When The VP of Ops smartly asks, “are you sure we’re going to have enough food?” your instinctually going to want to roll your eyes and say something douchey like, “it’s not our job to feed their entire extended families too!”  But that’s where you’re wrong.  You see, because of your crippling fear of IG-fueled guilt (JUST WRITE INSTAGRAM INSTEAD OF ‘IG’!  NOBODY CALLS IT ‘IG’) you ARE going to invite too many people.  You are then going to stress about not having enough food for these people right before the party and take that stress out on your dog by yelling “ENOUGH GODDAMNIT!” when she barks like she always does when the Amazon person knocks on the door after dropping the package that The VP of Ops secretly ordered.
    • Tip for Next Time:  Dude, don’t invite that many people.  The stress is not worth it!  THE STRESS IS NOT WORTH IT!  Just be an adult and deal with the guilt of possibly making some people feel left out the way you deal with most things in your life…drinking.  Hey! It’s a party!  Also, these parties now are more about food than they are booze, and people are WAY more inclined to bring booze over because it takes less effort.  So, being the cheapass that you are, buy more food and less booze.  You won’t have to stress out about not having enough food AND it’s kind of a cool move to be able to send people home with Tupperware containers of the incredible food you just made (Hey, you’re not Bobby Flay.  You made a fine brisket on a dumpy smoker.  It was fine.  Cool it.)

During The Party

  • The VP of Ops is going to get just as much praise for the dish that took her 24 minutes to make as you’re going to get for the dish that took you 37 hours to make.  Then you’re going to make incessant references about how annoying it is to try to repair the dirt patches in your backyard, which will bore the ever-living-fuck out of whoever you’re talking to.  Trust me, they’re not thinking to themselves, “I wish Jimmy would talk MORE about these shitty dirt patches in his yard.”  You’ll pour your first BIG BOY IPA in your fancy beer glass because “hey, it’s a party and this is how I like to start my parties.” But then you’ll start to feel bad that you can’t offer every guy a fancy glass for their beer EVENTHOUGH NONE OF THEM CARE AT ALL ABOUT DRINKING BEER OUT OF YOUR FRUITY STEM GLASS.  College football games will be happening and you will not be watching because that’s rude.  Then you’ll check your phone 2 beers in, see that you’ve lost your first batch of bets, and start scrambling to make more bets just to “get back to even.”
    • Tip for Next Time:  Make sure that everyone knows that The VP of Ops didn’t spend as much time making her dish as you did yours.  Will this piss her off? Yeah, but whatever.  Enough is enough, and credit should be given ONLY TO THOSE THAT HAVE EARNED IT!  This does have the potential to spark a little bit of a fight, BUT little comments like, “how long’d you nuke that in the microwave for?” paired with HARD laughter and playful elbows to her ribs is the type of comedy that you cannot pass up.
  • As the “party” rounds into form, you’re going to get a bit insecure about the total lack of kids toys that you have in your house.  So, you’re going to grasp at straws and offer the older kids at the party basically anything you think would entertain them.  Unfortunately, the half-deflated old football and TY stuffed animal that’s NOT a beanie baby, are going to provide about the same enjoyment from them as you get out of eating celery (it’s like eating stringy water.). The kids will then start trying to treat your ratty old dog toys like they’re kids toys, and their parents will pretend they’re not disgusted/horrified.
    • Tip for Next Time:  How about a surprise “presents time” for the kids there?  Not only will the kids be pumped about it, but it will distract the parents from their whisper-level discussion about “those patches in Jimmy’s backyard.”  OF COURSE I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT WHEN YOU LOOK AT A PATCH, THEN BACK TO ME, THEN INTO YOUR WIFE’S EAR!  WHAT ELSE COULD IT BE ABOUT?!?!?!  Go to The Dollar Store (don’t forget, he’s cheap!) and get all the kids a bunch of little stuff, that you wrap up (and bonus present will be if Jimmy wraps it, it’ll look like shit!)  Make sure they all get one of the same thing, so there are no baby street fights where all of a sudden the kid who didn’t get the squirt gun starts to melt down and HOW DID THAT BABY GET A KNIFE?!?!  Next time, let’s have a designated “presents time” to really double down on this effort to become the favorite uncle. 
  • Towards the end of the party, you’re going to grasp for the last chance at a buzz.  You’ll think about mentioning a “nightcap” but then you’ll know that the one wife who already thinks you drink too much is now CERTAIN of it.  So, you’ll restrain yourself (like Gandhi!) and venture into the “beers don’t count because they’re not hard alcohol”-zone.  But you’re not drinking lites, are you?  Of course you’re not.  At this point, you’re digging into the bottom of the cooler for the last of the Double IPAs that you know are down there somewhere.  Unfortunately, the “beers don’t count because they’re not hard alcohol”-zone also means that you will not be reaching another fun buzz-zone.  Instead, you will just be getting fatter, while being basically the same amount of drunk, and making your impending hangover that much worse.  You’ll know this, yet still refuse to mix in a seltzer because that could POTENTIALLY negatively impact the buzz you’re seeking.
    • Tip for Next Time:  Just get a grip, man.

OUR WORLD:

“House of the Dragon” is barely back.  Sunday night’s episode was good enough to keep me interested for next week’s, but I implore all of us (dramatic) to not lower our bars so much as to think of that past episode as awesome.  It was pretty good, but not awesome.  The first two were so insufferably boring that this one did feel like an entirely different show because it had…drumroll….DRAGONS DOING DRAGON THINGS!!! Who woulda thunk it?!?!  It’s cool to see dragons doing dragon things!!! But listen, this show simply isn’t good enough to justify me writing about it EVERY week (oh? And it’s not just because your fat ass is worn out from writing that unnecessarily long My World? Got it!)  This episode was cool, and I’m still in, BUT…Guys, Damon was shot with 5 arrows, dying on the ground and then all of a sudden went into Sprint-Mode-5000 to chop in half the toughest crabman the world has ever seen?  Heh?!  AND…How is any army at this time losing if they’re the side WITH THE GODDAMN FIRE-BREATHING DRAGONS?!?!  If the battle isn’t going well just fly that thing over and POOF!  Burnt! 

“General, we’re losing ground to our opponent.  What strategy adjustment would you suggest?”

“Maybe we could fly that enormous, indestructible fire-breathing dragon over their side?  Cuz like, planes and missiles haven’t been invented yet, and they can only shoot their dumb little arrows so high.  So just, have the fire-breathing dragon fly higher than their little arrows and light all of them on fire.”

Real quick, if you are looking for shows that were worthy of me writing about them every week (but you didn’t because you weren’t watching them during your paternity leave and you were too lazy to write and do your job at the same time?) these are my current “Best Shows of the Year” rankings:

  1. Black Bird:  This is the best show of the year, so far, and the lead guy in it is so attractive that maybe I shouldn’t be married to a girl?
  2. The Bear:  A half-hour show that works great as a dramedy and is as authentic of a Chicago show as I’ve seen. 
  3. Severance:  Really imaginative concept where you cannot predict what will happen next.  It’s a bit on the slow side, but each episode is better than the last.  If you hate your job, this will make you hate it more. 
  4. We Own This City:  Jon Bernthal has officially entered the land of “if that guy’s in it, I’m gonna watch it.” 
  5. The Staircase:  Incredibly well-done, and I guess I’m glad I finished it, but there are scenes of a woman falling down a staircase (not a spoiler) that are so realistic and awful, that I hated watching it at times.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When the weather turns, and the temperature gets low enough to where you can finally turn off your AC and open your windows. 

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When the weather turns, and the temperature gets low enough to where you can finally turn off your AC and open your windows, but your wife thinks house burglars have zeroed in on your house so you have to close all of the windows at night and keep blasting the expensive AC even though it’s colder outside than it is inside.

JIMMY GAMBLES:

I actually broke even this week on college football!!! I’d like to thank Clemson and Georgia for beating up on Georgia Tech and Oregon like they were supposed to.  And I would like to offer a hearty “Go to Hell” to LSU’s kicker.  I know you’re waiting with baited breath on what my first NFL slate of the year will look like, and that will come soon but…as a teaser….I’m loving the Bears and the points against the “Why are we sure Trey Lance is good?”-Niners.

K bye.

Dragon House Snoozefest & How To Smoke a Brisket JIMMYSTYLE

OUR WORLD:

I know that I’m supposed to wait another day-plus because I originally titled this segment the “48 Hours Later Without Looking Stuff Up on Google”-review, but last night’s episode of “House of the Dragon” was so mind-numbingly slow that I am renaming THIS edition of the segment, “Be More Boring, I Dare You!” 

We all watched that last disappointing season of “Game of Thrones” waiting for stuff to pay off so that we could text our friends things like, “THAT is why we watch this show!”  But when that payoff didn’t come, our collective anger was directed at the writers of the show, (you don’t know their names, do you?  Don’t Google!  NOT ALLOWED TO GOOGLE OR THE SEGMENT IS FOREVER COMPROMISED!) Darren Scott and Lamar Trundleson (not even close).  We all read online about how Darren and Lamar (doubling down on stupid, welcome to Jimmyschair!) had been hired to write the next Star Wars movie, and so they were rushing the end of “Game of Thrones” so they could get to do that.  And for us, that wouldn’t stand!  How dare the two guys who wrote the majority of a series we loved try to parlay that success into getting to helm the most renowned movie franchise of all-time!  After that last episode?  NOT ON OUR WATCH!  So we all got online mad, vilified Darren and Lamar to the point that they got fired from that Star Wars job, and then deified George RR Martin—author of the Game of Thrones book series.  “The series went downhill once RR Martin’s influence waned!” we all chanted from our dumpy bedrooms in our smelly mesh shorts (dude, you’ve had them since freshman year college.  Go spend $17 at Costco for a new pair.)

This chorus for the return of more RR Martin influence reached a crescendo, shortly thereafter, when HBO announced they were making “House of the Dragon” based off his book “Fire & Blood” and that he would be listed as Executive Produce and Creator. (You clearly googled to get that information.  No, we saw you go into the bathroom with your phone and then come out and write that.  CHANGE THE SEGMENT TO “JIMMY GOOGLES IN THE BATHROOM AND THEN PRETENDS HE DOESN’T SO HIS READERS THINK HE’S SMARTER THAN HE IS!”)  So we ignored that this was basically RR Martin’s role on “Game of Thrones” and went about our business forgetting that the last season of GOT uh….sucked…and got ourselves pumped up for “House of the Dragon” by pretending that RR Martin’s involvement was what was missing.

What we all SHOULD have done is ask, “if RR Martin was so great, why didn’t he come up with the idea to make it a show?  And once that idea was brought TO HIM (it was), why didn’t he write the first episode (he didn’t).”  Martin had a deal with the original writers of “Game of Thrones” (you forgot to Google that, didn’t you?) Darren Scott and Lamar Trundleson (yep) that he would write ONE episode of the show per season.  And guess what?  By Season 5, HE COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT!  George RR Martin wrote 4 episodes of “Game of Thrones”.  The series had 73 total episodes (HE’S GOOGLING AGAIN!)

All that information (that you googled and lied about doing so) was conveniently forgotten in the fallout of the “Game of Thrones” final season, and the subsequent build-up to “House of the Dragon”.  I did the same!  I got myself excited about this series because I loved GOT so much, and SORELY missed an event show on Sunday nights (When does Succession come back?) “The Dragon show is gonna be good cuz um, dragons, and it’s based on the book by the guy, and I think the guy is more involved in this one, and um, remember the red wedding?!” was basically how I sold this show to myself in my head (you talk to yourself?)  And now we’re two episodes in, and I’m realizing what I did, what we all did, was go buy a Rolex online…and now we’ve got a “Rolecks” watch that gives your wrist a rash.

I know we all don’t want to give up on this Dragon House show, but we should.  (You said you were giving it 6 episodes!  Does your wife know about all of your lies?!?!)  I know I said I’d give it 6 episodes before throwing in the towel, but I’m making an amendment: for each sucky episode that I do watch, subtract from the number of episodes that I vow to watch.  (That was worded horribly and everybody hates you now and will never read this again.)  Last night’s episode sucked.  Thus, I am now down to 5 total episodes I am committing to watch.  If next week’s episode sucks, I will be down to 4 total episodes, and so on. 

Dragon House is excruciatingly boring in a way that seems damn near impossible considering this is a show ABOUT FIRE-BREATHING FLYING DRAGONS!  We are now two episodes in, more than a full movie-length into this series, and the coolest thing we’ve seen the dragons do is…uh…No, let’s seriously answer that question.  We are 120 minutes into this series, and the coolest thing we’ve seen a dragon do is fly to an almost fight, and sit nearby the standoff until the two sides agree not to fight and to return to where they came from.  That is not an exaggeration.  This is like if you watched “Jurassic Park” and the coolest thing you saw the T-Rex do THE ENTIRE MOVIE was sneeze (he’d sure need a big Kleenex lololololololol).  Much like last week, yes, my main critique is that you have a show about dragons that barely features dragons.

“But Jimmy, they’re building up the anticipation!  Remember, the wait will be worth the reward!” you say?  Well first off, stop yelling at me, The Warden is asleep.  Second, I don’t think the payoff CAN be worth this wait because there is no one in the show that we like yet.  Hey guys, THAT’S A BIG PROBLEMO!  When you’re 120 minutes into a story and there isn’t one character that you’re excited to root for when they show up on screen, that is what we in the business call a GRANDE PROBLEMO!  A payoff worth this wait requires villains to root against and heroes to root for, and I don’t think we really have either yet.  Let’s go through some of the hero suspects:

  • The King: He’s a suburban dad caught in dragon-times who is sad about having killed his wife for a chance to save his son…but then his son also died.  So now he has nominated his daughter to be heir, but he doesn’t seem especially pumped about that.  Oh yeah, and he definitely wants to bang his teenage daughter’s best friend (American Beauty much?)  Plus, we all know he’s going to die because he has infected cuts that maggots can’t cure (shocking!) 
    • “Root-ability” Rating: 3.2
  • Rhaenyra Daughter Girl:  I know we’re supposed to like her, but can she earn that first?  In GOT we loved Arya because she was a total badass.  What has this girl done besides ride a dragon that we already knew liked white-haired girls because we saw that in Game of Thrones already?!?!?
    • “Root-ability” Rating: 3.9
  • The warrior guy who Rhaenyra liked because he has battle experience: Bad sign that we don’t know his name.  Cole something? (Just google it, you’ve already been caught in that lie.)  I do think this is the character I like the most right now because he belittled Daemon in front of everyone by reminding him that he pounded him in their battle.  But…yeah, I don’t even know his name.
    • “Root-ability” Rating: 4.4

How about the villain suspects you ask?

  • Daemon:  Clearly the writers on this show want you to hate this guy, but do you yet?  It’s strange because every time he’s on screen I instinctively know I’m supposed to hate him, but I don’t know why I do.  Yes, he has a hate-able looking face, so that’s a great start.  But, can he do something super awful first?  Remember how much you hated the little boy Prince early on in GOT?  He got the wolf killed!  Can Daemon kill a wolf that we all love before we anoint him as a super villain.  He hasn’t earned it yet.  What he has done is act cocky in a battle tournament, kill a bunch of people that we didn’t know or care about in some random battle scene in the first episode, and…uh…be pissy that Rhaenyra was named heir instead of him.
    • “Hate-ability” Rating: 5.2
  • Father guy who is trying to pimp out his 12 year-old daughter to the king:  Don’t know this guy’s name, but we all know him as the guy with white dreadlocks who’s trying to pimp out his 12 year old daughter to the King.  And while that is most definitely a “hey, not cool, man!”-move, the fact that this is in olden times makes me think it’s not really that messed up.  (Jimmy thinks it’s cool for old men to wed 12 year-olds.  He just put that in writing.) I’m not saying I think it’s cool for old men to wed 12 year-olds, but they did do awful shit like that in olden times.  So, Dreadlock Dad Pimp is kinda, just doing what Dreadlock Daddy’s did back then.
    • “Hate-ability” Rating: 4.1
  • The King’s Hand:  We think he’s on the good guys’ team because he’s the King’s hand, but he looks like a weasel and is mean to his daughter who-BY THE WAY-he is also trying to pimp out to the King!  See!  Just another run-of-the-mill Dad Pimp!
    • “Hate-ability” Rating: 3.6

With no real heroes and no real villains, what possibly payoff is even plausible?  What scene could happen that makes us all forget that the first 120 minutes of this show has included no memorable scenes or characters?  You see, the longer this bore-a-thon goes, the better the payoff scene has to be, and at this point, it already would have to be an electric shock of a scene. 

The only hope I see is this crab guy we caught a glimpse of at the end.  The scenes with the crabs were creepy, and that guy does look pretty terrifying in that mask.  Could he turn into something we all band together in rooting against?  Possibly.  Unfortunately, creating the type of vitriolic hate we would need for a proper payoff moment, would require the writers of this show doing something they have yet to prove capable of: writing an interesting scene.

MY WORLD: 

I’m going to smoke a brisket on Saturday and I’d like to tell you how I’m going to by giving you my steps and recipe for how to do it, and what to expect the rest of your day to look like while doing it.  The ingredients, tools and process-notes you’ll need for the first JIMMYSCHAIR SMOKED BRISKET RECIPE!!!

Ingredients:

  • 12-15lb brisket.  I like to get it from Costco because they’re priced the best (just say ‘cheapest’) and they taste just as good as the expensive ones I’ve gotten from the local butcher (so you don’t support local business.)
  • Yellow Mustard.  Have about a half of a squeeze bottle or just stop being a cheapass and buy a new bottle for this.  Jesus.
  • Kosher Salt.  A lot.
  • Apple juice.
  • Coarse black pepper. Also, a lot.  (Love the precise measurements.)

Tools:

  • Smoker. (How dumb do you think your readers are?)  I use a big offset charcoal smoker.  I use it because I want to pretend I’m an authentic traegers-are-for-clowns-smoker-guy AND because I don’t want to spend what it would cost for a green egg (I’ll take “Cheap white guy things” for $400 please!)
  • Charcoal and Wood chunks.  How much? Uh, like a lot.  I prefer the lump charcoal because it appears more authentic (sound reasoning) and big wood chunks because they burn longer.  What flavor of wood?  I honestly don’t think this really matters so I just go with my heart whenever I’m in the store the day of. 
  • Butcher paper.  This is key and it’s not the easiest to find.  Last time I did a brisket I just asked the butcher at my local grocery store if he had any butcher paper he could spare.  He did, so I used that.  And you are correct, I did just take free butcher paper.
  • A portable cooler.  You know, like the ones you bring to a tailgate.
  • A digital meat thermometer.  One that’ll give you internal and external readings.  Wireless is best so you can sit on your fatass inside for a little while your brisket gets oooooohhhhh sooooo sweatyyyyyy (good lord that was creepy.)
  • An empty spray bottle
  • A towel. (You have to shower with your brisket?!?!)

The Process:

  • Get up at 5:30 AM.  This is serious work and serious work requires an early morning.  Plus, when you’re telling people about your day, it’s going to really impress them if you get started before 6 (they’ll be even more impressed if you’re slurring your speech while telling them all of this).  Get up quietly because this early morning alone time is going to be SO CHOICE.  Make a huge pot of coffee and be really dramatic about how good the coffee grinds smell.  Like, yeah, open the container and smell them and say something like, “ahhhhhhh.”
  • Slather your big, stinky brisket in yellow mustard.  Put some vinyl gloves on for this, otherwise it feels ICKY and Jimmy NO LIKEY ICKY FEELYS (is there a video somewhere of you getting punched? We’d love to see it!)
  • Dump generous amounts of kosher salt and coarse black pepper all over every part of this brisket.  Make sure to get the sides too.  You’re not going to put too much salt or pepper on it.  Do I know this? No, but it’s what I tell myself.  The best part of the brisket is the bark, and you’re not going to have flavorful bark without a dump truck worth of salt and pepper.  (How have you not opened up your own bbq restaurant yet?!?!)
  • Bring a Yeti full of coffee out to your grill area in back.  Hopefully, you can wear a hoodie because hoodie morning weather makes every man about 18% happier.  Have a podcast going.  Look up to the sky, smile and gently shake your head because “God, just doesn’t deserve someone like me.”  Scream at your dog to be quiet.  Chuckle it off when you see your next-door neighbor is outside and just heard you gritted-teeth growl “shut the fuck up!” at your cute dog. 
  • Get your smoker to a stable 225 degrees.  This part is always the part I have a really hard time with, and it takes longer than you want it to.  This is the part that can derail your day.  Put a helmet on, get ready for fucking battle.  Aim low on the temperature.  It’s much easier to get a smoker hotter, than it is to cool it down.  The first time I did this, I got mine up to 300+ degrees and it took like A GODDAMN YEAR to get it back down to 225-250.
  • Before you put your brisket on the actual smoker, make sure your basement fridge is stocked.  Listen here buddy, you’re drinking today.  So go down, and take a look at what you’ve got.  Get yourself excited.  Put on a Huey Lewis song and plan out what time you’re going to crack the first one.  I suggest a lite beer around 10am.  Then think about the afternoon IPAs.  Blow a kiss at your alcohols and tell them that you’ll see them soon. 
  • Get that brisket on the smoker.  You need to get the internal temperature of your brisket to 165 degrees before you take it out and wrap it in butcher paper.  So, put the brisket on fat side up (so the fat drips down or whatever) and plan on about 8ish hours here to get it to 165.
  • Check the time and get kinda pissed that it’s not 10AM yet.  Wonder what to do for the next hour-plus.  Try sitting and enjoying the weather in your backyard.  Stare off into the distance.  Wonder why you don’t have a better job.  Think about the money you wasted on grad school.  Start to hate yourself.  Go inside to eat carbs.
  • Eat carbs.
  • Oh thank god, it’s 10am.  Dive down your basement stairs because it’s faster than running and get a Lite beer out of the fridge.
  • The “I wonder what’s in Jimmy’s red plastic cup at 10:01 AM”-plan is keeping everyone in the dark, so you go outside.   Get the spray bottle and spray your nastyboy piece o’ meat with apple juice (the brisket, right?)  Do this about every hour.  You don’t have to drench it, but this will help keep it moist while also helping…I don’t know bind the bark or something.  Look, I heard this is what you do, so just fucking do it.
  • Go back inside to see that your wife has changed the TV from ‘College Gameday’ on ESPN to some episode of “The Mindy Kaling Show”.  Don’t get mad.  Don’t! 
  • Start to get mad, go to the bathroom, look at yourself in the mirror and say, “Don’t let her know you’re mad because that will start a fight that will last all day.”  Go back outside, and when she asks, “oh, want me to change it back?” Say, “No thanks, it’s so nice out!”
  • Stew.
  • Get more drinks.
  • Once the internal temperature gets to 165, wrap it in butcher paper, and put it back on the smoker (still at 225-250).  You’ll keep it on here until the internal temperature gets to 203 degrees.  Yes, that’s a magic number that has relevance but I don’t remember why so, again, just fucking do it.
  • Think back to how you didn’t get to see Lee Corso put the mascot head on at the end of “College Gameday” because your wife had to watch the Mindy Kaling episode where the guy doesn’t like her that much AGAIN.
  • Stew.
  • When your brisket finally hits that 203 degree internal temperature, take the wrapped brisket off the smoker.  Keeping it wrapped in the butcher paper, now you need to wrap it in a big fluffy towel.  Use your wife’s favorite, softest towel because this brisket is the new love of your life that would never change the channel off College Gameday before Lee Corse put the mascot head on.
  • Wonder which mascot head Lee Corse put on earlier.
  • Wrap the brisket in wife’s favorite towel.
  • Say “no” when your wife asks if you used her towel to wrap the brisket.
  • Now sloppily wrapped in your wife’s amazing favorite towel, place the brisket in the portable cooler where you’ll leave it OVERNIGHT!!!  Yeah, this makes a huge difference—this resting time makes the bark SO much better.
  • Stop drinking.
  • Get another beer.
  • Respond to your wife with only one-word answers.
  • Go to bed.  Don’t say anything about the College Gameday thing.
  • Get back up.  Get another beer.
  • Google “can I watch a replay of College Gameday if I didn’t record it?”
  • Fall asleep on the couch 8 minutes after promising your wife you’d be upstairs in just a few minutes.
  • Wake up hungover on the couch in the clothes you fell asleep in.
  • Your brisket is ready. Eat it.
  • Whatever.

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

The random weekday rain during the summer giving you the perfect excuse to stay inside and be fat and lazy all day.

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Shaving. 

JIMMY GAMBLES:

College football actually starts this THURSDAY!  Last Saturday doesn’t count because it was a weird Ireland game that I couldn’t even gamble on and then a bunch of other bad games.   So, for Thursday’s games, gimme West Virginia (+7.5) at Pitt, Purdue (+3.5) hosting Penn State, and Oklahoma State (-21.5) hosting Central Michigan.  These have no chance!

K bye.

House of the Dragon Review & A Gassy Preview

MY WORLD:

The more I look into my one-month-old daughter’s eyes, the more I catch myself exhaling, looking up to the sky while gently shaking my bulbous head, only to return to her innocent gaze and say, “Dude, are you fucking kidding me?”  She’s not, though.  She’s not kidding because she doesn’t know how to kid, yet.  The Warden IS NOT kidding, she’s just there…like a lump.  This big eyed, lumpy Prison Dictator bats her eyes at me because that’s just what her body does, yet I’m supposed to wax poetic about it every time a stranger or older person or some random gooey parent who wears big, flowy shirts asks me how being a new Dad is.  I’m a good enough writer to tell them the things that will trigger their tear ducts, but I’d rather (do anything else in the world?) tell them about the aspects of early parenting that are PRACTICALLY and TANGIBLY AWESOME. 

The Farting.

We’re not reinventing the wheel here, folks.  When your little baby starts ripping audible farts, it’s not only funny, but it opens up your world of fart comedy (yes, we’ve all felt confined in our fart comedy worlds). 

The other night, as I sadly went to bed before I was drunker than I wanted to be (when’s the candlelight vigil for your buzz?) I exacted the only revenge I’m able to exact on The Warden, by putting her down in what has to be a very uncomfortable bassinet.  You see, it’s kind of the only way I can get her back at her for terrorizing my ability to sleep.  “Oh, so you’re going to get me so tired that I can’t even get a proper buzz?  Well, hope you like sleeping on this paper-thin pad resting on WICKER!” 

As I snickered at her inability to secure a more comfortable sleeping situation, I scrolled Twitter because that’s what you do when you’re INSANELY tired, not buzzed enough, and need sleep.  The VP was doing face stuff in the bathroom (putting on war paint?) and we weren’t talking because it’s the time of day where stories are over.  Nothing is interesting.  Nothing is exciting.  Everything sounds like the static you get when your TV’s signal goes off and you don’t know where the remote is and why has the volume gone up to level one trillion and we’re staying calm, we’re all staying calm because this is nobody’s fault, BUT WHO STOLE AND HID THE FUCKING REMOTE?!?!

What I’m trying to say is, we were ready to go to sleep.  But then…The Warden farted so violently, that there was no possible way to stop ourselves from laughing hysterically.  This fart should have a Vegas residency, that’s how funny it was!  This fart, made us forget how tired we were, how disappointed I was in not being to stay up long enough to secure a proper buzz, how deeply annoyed The VP as to be with my insistence that we not use a pacifier because “then whenever it falls out of her mouth, she just freaks out again”.  (Isn’t a break in the freak out symphony better than no-break in the freak out symphony? WHY IS A CONSTANT FREAKOUT BETTER THAN ONE WITH BREAKS?!?!)

The Warden’s fart healed us.

In our laughter, we are one.

You can eat whatever you want, whenever you want.

New parents enter a judgement-free zone (like Planet Fitness!) that protects them from questions like, “aren’t those chocolate chips meant for baking cookies and not you eating them straight out of the bag at 3:07 PM on a Tuesday?” Or, “isn’t the idea of those low-calorie ice cream bars to substitute your full-on dessert and not act as a dessert appetizer?”  Or, “are you sure that tortilla chips are considered ‘good carbs’ because they’re made from corn?”

Who doesn’t like a fat Dad? (You.  You see yourself getting fatter and hate your-) NOBODY!  EVERYONE LIKES A FAT DAD. 

What’s next?

Parental Leave.

Not working is sweet.  Do I need to explain this? (You wrote it, dude.  At least TRY to make it interesting?)

Taking care of a small human cry-machine isn’t a tropical vacation, but let me offer you this “would you rather?”-scenario:

Would you rather get a call from your boss asking you about some work thing that you’ve put off because it sucks/you hate it

-OR-

Would you rather deal with your Warden scream-crying a mere 19 minutes after drinking a full bottle? 

You take the screamer because you can put the screamer in a rocking swing and say, “just gotta let her cry it out,” and sound like a seasoned parent when saying that.  Try ignoring your boss and telling your spouse that you’re “just gonna let her call it out,” and eventually you’ll be lying to your Dad that you were laid off because of “complicated company stock stuff” when you were actually fired for “ignoring your boss.”

OUR WORLD:

Since today is the day of “this may be a recurring segment on Jimmyschair if I…uh…feel like it later,” let’s start another one in this section, entitled “48 Hours Later Without Looking Stuff Up on Google”-Review.  Why the no looking stuff up on Google thing, you ask? (We didn’t, you just feel the need to justify your laziness).  Because when you’re having a conversation with someone and talking about whether you loved or hated a show/character/storyline, etc. you’re going to remember the aspects that MATTER.  Think of it as a test for these shows or movies.  If something is great, we’re going to remember it 48 hours later without having to go to Google and type “Wait, what was that thing I liked in the show I watched the other night?” (You sure you want the title to be that short?  Why not “48 Hours Later Without Looking Stuff Up on Google While Your Kid Scream Cries in the Background and You Pray That ‘Crying It Out’ is a ”-Review?)

For my first “48 Hours Later Without Looking Stuff Up on Google”-Review, let’s talk about HBO’s first episode of “House of the Dragon”.  If you’re worried about spoilers or a review that leaves you wanting more, yeah, stop reading (lowering expectations really is your go-to, isn’t it?)

“Game of Thrones”, especially in the early seasons, was so intoxicatingly good that it’s fair to compare the early episodes of it’s first spinoff series to the original.  I remember watching the pilot episode for “Game of Thrones,” and sharing a “holy shit, did you see that?” look with my then roommates after the INTRODUCTION.  That’s what I was looking for with this pilot episode.  And you know what? I wanted it within the first five minutes because that’s what “Game of Thrones” did and that’s what almost all  good new shows have to do now.  There’s so much goddamn content out there, that if a show doesn’t shove you up against a wall and scream “LOVE ME!” within the first five minutes, you’re going back to the streaming well. 

48 hours later, I don’t remember the opening of this episode.  (See a doctor?)

What I do remember is a horrifically graphic pregnancy scene that I hate watched through my fingers.  Is that really the kind of scene we need in the first episode of the most widely anticipated series debut of the past few years?  That’s the kind of scene that belongs in the middle of season two, when the show has given you enough “holy shit, did you see that?!”-scenes, that you allow it to torture you with the occasional “holy shit, I wish I never saw that!”-scene.  “House of the Dragon” gave us a scene I wish I could forget as THE climactic scene in the series debut.

I also thought that the two male leads were lacking gravitas.  Sean Bean was the male lead in the original, and is the kind of actor, with the kind of jawline and cool weathered face that you bought him as a legitimate warrior.  These two actors who I couldn’t pick out of a lineup, playing the white-haired leads were about as memorable as the first time I ate a cracker.  “I guess I liked it.  I have had crackers since…”  I can’t remember seeing them in anything else, they both lack any sort of on-screen charisma that makes me excited to see what they’ll do next, and I didn’t really buy that they were the ones leading soldiers during a time period where soldiers were so scary barbaric, I’m pretty sure I’m not the same species as them.  (Correct Jimmy, they were ‘men’ and you are a human who wears floral colored crocs in public).

Isn’t it also confusing that the young girl who is now being groomed to take over the Iron Throne definitely looks EXACTLY like a younger version of the last main girl in “Game of Thrones”?  What was her name?  Pretty dragon-riding girl who slept with Drago?  Danerius? (No chance you spelled that right.)  You know who I’m talking about, and this girl looks like a younger her, and does things the younger her would’ve done, but…guess what….it’s not her!  So, that’s not confusing at all. 

And the dragons.  What about the dragons?!?!  The fucking show is about their house and the coolest thing we see them do in the first episode is cremate a dead mom and her dead newborn?  Who drew that up? 

“Hello ‘House of the Dragon’ writing team.  What do you plan to have the dragons do in the first episode?”—HBO Executive

“We were thinking we could show a team of people hold a screaming woman down while a ‘doctor’ kills her by cutting open her stomach and ripping out her kid who, also dies, but like, a little later.”—House of the Dragon Writer

“Uh, what about the dragons, though?”

“Yeah, we’ll have one of them blow fire on them at the funeral.”

“On who?”

“The dead Mom and baby.”

“But, they’re already dead.”

And that is precisely the moment the writers should have looked at each other and said, “maybe the coolest thing we have our dragons do, in the first ever episode of our show called ‘House of the Dragon’, is not act as a match at a cremation ceremony.”

We’re all going to stick with this show for a while (we are?) because we are in this together and “Game of Thrones” was an incredible series, and so they’ve earned at least us watching 6 episodes of their first spinoff.  But maybe next episode, we could get a dragon dunking a basketball?  SOMETHING?!?!

LETS ALL LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

It’s my favorite time of the year for beer because it’s OKTOBERFEST (Octoberfest?) season!!! Now, there are a billion at the store, but here are some Jimmyschair tips and recos for what to do with these (he’s a professional, folks! Well…was. Wait, yeah, didn’t you quit your job in beer? Yeah, you did! So now you’re just a…drunk!)

Tip: Buy a bunch of them now and let them hang in your beer fridge, or if you don’t have room it’s not the end of the world if these sit at room temp. These kinds of beers will last a good 3-4 months minimum (some, you can stretch to 6) AND their quality doesn’t totally hinge on them being kept cold the whole time. Now, if you can keep beer cold, do it. But, if you’re stuck on space then don’t worry about having these chill in the corner of your basement.

Recos:

-Paulaner “Fest Bier”–they’re “marzen” is good too, but I prefer the one that says “Fest Bier”

-New Glarus “Staghorn”–you can only get this in Wisconsin. If you’re near, it’s worth the drive and do it soon because these usually sell out FAST.

-Half Acre “Lagertown”–best brewery in Chicago and it’s the founder’s favorite beer they make. Convinced yet?

-Sam Adams “Octoberfest”–I’m not even sure I love this beer, but my Dad does so that counts for a bunch of beer points.

-Sierra Nevada “Oktoberfest”–They used to switch up this beer every year where they’d brew it with another VERY OLD German brewery. Now? I’m honestly not sure what they’re doing, but Sierra is a beast and doesn’t miss on this style.

LETS ALL HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

People over 60 who post political memes on Facebook. Hey, Rey, we all know which side of the aisle you’re on and NOBODY wants to join you.

JIMMY GAMBLES:

The PGA Tour championship is this weekend and there’s a staggered scoring system.  What does that mean? That the longer shots you pick, have an even LESS likelihood of breaking through.  (Does that mean you’re finally going to just pick the people you think are ACTUALLY going to win the tournament?) BUT LETS PICK SOME LONGSHOTS ANYWAY!!!  Feed my fat butt Tony Finau, Cameron Young, and Jon Rahm.  (*Disclaimer: Jimmy has not won a golf bet in so long that he literally cannot even remember the last time he did win one.  He keeps saying he enjoys betting on the sport, though, because his guys have been close a few times and ‘close’ to a losers like Jimmy act as reasons to keep picking the same way every single time).

K bye.