Sunday, December 13, 2009

Fair Warning

Everyone's been there. Everyone knows what it's like to want something so bad your better judgment takes the first bus out of town; when your stomach churns in anticipation, your eyes widen in excitement, and you sink yourself into a warm, moist nest of regret. And while the immediate satisfaction of the decision is clouded by the bitter aftertaste of Kentucky bourbon and a lack of patience, the consequences of those five seconds are truly felt the next morning when you stare the signs of your shortcoming square in the face.

I learned in law school that you can have a slippery floor in a supermarket that lends itself to the humorous downfall of clumsy, and likely elderly individuals... but Acme's liability is relieved so long as a yellow warning cone with that universal sign for "slip n kill yourself" is promptly placed at the site of the potential hilarity. So where is my warning? Absent the equivalent of a yellow sign hanging on my doorstep, how is a mere man, overwhelmed by his instincts at those late hours, when human nature dictates his subjection to his most immediate desires, supposed to channel the reason and brain power of his sober alter-ego? Let me tell you, people, it's an impossibility. Not even Bear Grylls has the willpower and self-imposed diligence to exercise the caution society thrusts upon us and expects us to demonstrate each and every time we, as humans with penises, confront the growling belly of temptation.

In fact, there is no two ways about it: those demonic creations that ooze with tastiness and seduce us with an adorable presence should be outlawed! Yeah, I said it, I think Hot Pockets deserve to die, and I hope they burn in hell!

They seem harmless enough. Wrapped nicely in plastic, with clear and concise directions, the picture on the box invites the drunkest individual to the freezer. The box practically whispers from the freezer... "oh, hey there hungry guy, why don't you indulge in some pepperoni, maybe even some processed cheese. Feeling dangerous? Throw me and my partner in a microwave for 3 minutes and 15 seconds and let's make a threesome out of it. Don't worry, the roof of your mouth won't burn into smithereens like a Move townhouse. I promise your tongue won't break into blisters like a Show N' Tel dancer's vagina. Go ahead, take a chance."

Well enough! I'm putting my foot down, throwing Hot Pockets in the room, and drawing a line in the sand. Never again will I be forced to scrub the solidified cheese/sauce off of a plate the following morning. Never again will I find myself digesting the skin on the top of my mouth for days to come. Never again, will I try to stick my penis in that warm cocoon. I mean, eat a hot pocket. Good riddance to you and your deliciousness.

And the critics say we only discuss sports on this esteemed blogsphere.



  2. I want to eat Jaime Maggio's hot pocket.

  3. Halladay! Celebra-ate!

    I am upset about losing Cliff Lee and Kyle Drabek.

    I would have rather gotten rid of:


    I hope Halladay has a 20 win season.

    Go Phils.

  4. That first photo is as distracting as Manu Ginobli's bald spot.

  5. Tiger Woods' penis is like an ATM machine.

  6. Tiger is getting divorced. Oh well, it's just half a billion dollars.

  7. pre-nup! What, are you telling me Alethia didn't make you sign one?

  8. Nope. And I don't have any money.

  9. Chris Henry, meet Steve McNair and Sean Taylor.

    /too soon

  10. The question of the day, which I now pose to my fellow DR staff and readers is: Should Big Firm's new nickname be...

    Jrue (as in Holiday)


    Giroux (as in Claude)

    You decide.

  11. PS. When did the Flyboys get a new head coach? I only expect Chief Naka or Raleigh Towel may know the answer (or may care). It seems like the new guy has been around for about 8 games. What happened to Stevens? Did he get canned? Is he ill?

    I, personally, enjoy watching shit like this:

    I don't know about yous. It's a great game.

  12. Stevens got canned because the flyboys suck.

  13. Get Your Ass to Mars!

  14. Ray Lewis is my new favorite person:

  15. The DR has reached an inevitable lull. What do you think this is, the holidays or something? Chanukah is over, Flintskins. Get to work, jerk.

    P.S. Who knew that there were hipster rappers? These dudes should, and probably do, live in Northern Liberties.

  16. Sixies nicknames:


    Samuel "El Diablo Grande" Dalembert
    Elton "John" Brand
    Rodney Dangerfield "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" Carney
    Willie "Tavern on the" Green


    Eddie "Michael" Jordan "Dillard"


    Michael "The Mick" O'Koren


    "Jane" Candy Randy "Gayle S"Ayers
    Iron Jim "Dei" Lynam
    "The Full Philadelphian Like" Aaron "The Key" McKie


    Kevin "You're such a Disease" N. Johnson
    Scott "Goethe's" Faust

    Ed "Gail" Stefansky

    Sweet Lou "Seth" Williams
    Jrue "Magnum" Holiday
    Allen "Lane" Iverson
    Royal "Flush" Ivey
    Jason "The WOP" "Don't call me Capanna" Kapono
    Andre "The Giant" Iguodala
    Jason "Mann" "Friday The 13th" Smith "and Wesson"
    Young Thaddeus "Forever" Young
    Marreese "Hooked on Phonics" "Crazy Eights" Speights
    Primoz "Pizza" Brezac

  17. My apologies; I don't know why some of the team names got moved to the bottom.

  18. Have you considered that may be many medications for your inflictions?

  19. Is there a cure for Assburgers?

  20. Merry fucking Christmas to the D.R. staff and it's faithful readers (me).

    Is it wrong that Don Ameche reminds me of Terry Lefco?


  22. Eduardo Penis HandsDecember 27, 2009 at 9:11 PM

    Dan, shut up.

  23. Can I get a post on how shitty the Eagles are.

    Also, can we all agree that hiring Eddie Jordan has set the sixies back 5 years in their development? He may be the worst coach in sixers history, including tony dileo.

    does anyone else dream of an iguodala/sammy for t-mac trade? blasphemy?

    holidaze are over slackers. get to writing!

  24. Even I must say that the lack of posting is shameful. And by that I mean I am ashamed of the rest of you

  25. Well, well, well... I come back from a week of ghost-riding ATVs through rural Mexico, anxiously anticipating the many DR posts that I would need to catch up on. I'm all caught up.

  26. I received an e-mail from the Phightins that they have acquired Danys "the Anus" "Joan" Baez to strengthen their bullpen.

    In unrelated news, the Sixies dropped another to gatboy Gilbert Arenas, and the f'n Gizards. Arenas wants them to change their franchise name back to the Bullets.

  27. No comment on Dalembert's 20 point 20 rebound performance in a losing effort? For shame.

  28. Sadly, I am getting tired of seeing the picture of the large-breasted Eve with Big Firm's wang around her neck every time I arrive at the DR. Lets get the momentum back, fellas. There is too much going on in the Philly sports world, and the world in general, not to.

    Birds v. Cowpokes
    Sixies still terrible
    Arenas suspended
    Flyboys making a run
    Pic of the day?
    Video of the day?

    Don't make me Dan Carcillo any of you:

  29. Here's the thing...The Birds....Not a good team.

  30. We're from Philly, and we all got beards!

  31. Trade McNabb. Fiur Andy Reid.

  32. "You shut up! No you shut up! What's that?...The wind."


  34. This one goes out to EDG and Big Firm!

    This is why I can't have kids; because I'd make them do shit like this:

  35. You shut up, Eduardo Penis Hands.