Best. Haircut. Ever...

There aren't many things in life that can make me feel as good as a truly sweet haircut. Huge props to Sabrina at Lady Jane's, Ann Arbor, for her hour-long effort to drop some whupass on my unruly tresses this past Saturday, an effort which was a virtuoso display of both excellent taste and shear scissor-wielding badassery.

If I still drank, this is how my Saturday night would have went down. Especially if I could afford to hire Steel Panther for a gig.

James Toney is insane...

and not in a good way. Not, for instance, like Clubber Lang Insane.

No, Mr. Toney is insane in a manner similar to the way Timothy Treadwell was insane. Note I said was, as the late Grizzly Man is no longer with us.

I know that I'm supposed to root for (or at least support) Toney, as he's the local Ann Arbor/Ypsi boy, but it's hard to get behind anyone that's obviously either insane or really really stupid.



Note to James: Randy Couture is The Man. He is light years better than you at every single aspect of MMA that isn't straight boxing and is in ridiculously better shape, in addition to being a helluva lot bigger than you are. Randy Couture will absolutely smash you. Furthermore, Randy Couture is Captain America; he is maybe the only person in MMA that every single MMA fan really likes.

Talking shit about Randy Couture isn't going to promote your fight, dumbass--everyone watches Randy fight anyways. All it's going to do is make every MMA fan on earth pray that said fight actually happens so they can watch Captain America destroy you and then watch you fade back into well-deserved irrelevance.

Vuvuzela's Revenge

Even the formerly sacrosanct territory of all-things-Lord-of-the-Rings has been invaded by my new least-favorite South African export.



Ugghhh.