Nick the Giant

I don't know why but this really cracks me up. I can't take credit for it. I found it on the internet. I'm 49% inspired to photoshop other people's faces onto Andre's body. If I end up getting 89% inspired I'll do some post em up here with Nick. Until then, Nick is plenty.

Man vs. Animal Flu

This weekend I was in Omaha, NE for my cousin's wedding and not only did I have to deal with the language barrier, but I'm pretty sure I have squirrel flu. It's not as bad as pig flu but it's worse than your average cold. I maintained a steady intake of uppers, downers, herbs, dietary metallic elements and vitamins just to stay functional. It was a blitzkrieg of liquid confusion that half worked. But, I managed to rally and even dance a little at the reception.

I've decided two things. 1. Once I'm over this I don't want to ever get sick ever never ever again. 2. We all need to start washing our hands like we have OCD. This is a new leaf for me. I've never been an advocate for hand-washing. I'm not opposed to it, obviously. It just hasn't been a priority. Until now. All it took was for my body to get held hostage by squirrel flu to realize how much I dislike germs. And what I realized is that sick people are everywhere. They are touching things with their germ-covered hands. Things that you're going to touch. Then you're gonna get sick and touch things and the vicious germfest gains strength, disables humanity and squirrels and pigs take over the world. Our only defense is hand-washing.

Leah taught me this weekend that you're supposed to wash your hands for :30 seconds. And we're supposed to do that ten times a day. Is that insane or what? They say you should sing the happy birthday song while you scrub. I really hate that song. I won't sing it at your birthday no matter how much I love you. So I found another song option. Sing about Johny, wash those hands obsessively and let's beat this onslaught of animal influenza. The primal, evil genius of birds, squirrels and pigs won't be able to defeat us if we hold our clean hands together.

Paradoxicombinations

I know talk about this a lot, but I really like paradoxical combinations. Mashing together seemingly absurd or self-contradictory things to create something pleasant fascinates me. I just watched this video and appreciate that Jay-Z can combine Kenny G's instrument with phat (pronounced: fat) beats and make it hot.


I'm drawn to Jesus because his absurd call to change the world through self-sacrifice and servanthood creates tiny nuns who do just that. M.T. is a classic, paradoxical mash-up. Frail yet powerful.


I really like it when the result of a paradoxical combo can redefine the original. The word "prom" used to mean an event that I'm glad I'll never have to go again. But now, because of a contradictory combination of celebrating the uncelebrated, I am thrilled that The Prom happens every year.


Or who would've thought combining Tom Cruise with Ludacis could create something so beautiful? If you haven't seen the credits for Tropic Thunder you should pop over to youtube and check them out.


I know some people who think syrup and eggs and cheese and pancakes and sausage and love don't go together. Those people are tongueless and silly. The McGriddle is plucked straight from God's hip bone. Holy McMash-up.


Think about any good love story. Opposites attract, paradoxical peoples find love and spend their lives complimenting each other. Leah and I polar opposites in so many ways. She's a fly by the seat of her pantsuit, freelancing, adaptable woman. While I am organized, precise, planned-out, and full of structure. Classic, match-made-in-heaven, paradoxical mash-up.


This post is a paradoxicombination. Jay-Z + Mother Teresa + McGriddles. I don't know about you, but I'm stuffed.

My left, your right

Why aren't you walking?

It's kind of hard with you standing on me.

I'm too fat?

Stop.

You stop.

Ok.

Why are you mad at me?

I'm not mad. I just... how did you lose your shoes? That makes no sense to me.

I was by the fountain and my feet hurt.

K.

So I took them off there and I guess some homeless pervert stole them while I wasn't looking.

Why would a homeless guy want your shoes? That's dumb.

I don't know, Eric. There's a whole black market where they sell stuff.

An underground shoe store.

Among other things, yes.

Well, where is this black market? I need some stuff.

Can we just go home? My feet hurt.

Alright. Lift your left leg a little...no...my left, your right...there we go. Alright, now your left.

Are people watching?

Absolutely.

Living Photographs

Have you heard of this art form? I stumbled upon this portrait of Chris and his teacup. It's perhaps the weirdest thing I've seen in awhile. I'm no Ms. Cleo, but I would bet anything that living photographs will one day fill our museums . I decided to try it. Chris seemed to have a real ball creating his. He doesn't seem angry and full of forehead demons at all.

Calle Ocho: Old Lady Mash-up

Warning: This is stupider than most of my stupid posts. But this ghetto youtube mashing is really giving me a bang. 1. make sure you mute the second video. 2. hit play on the first and when he's done talking at the beginning, hit play on the second vid.

Marshmallow Test

This video (I think) was created by a Christian production company to make a statement on temptation. I'll admit, that's where my brain first went. I started thinking how I could make a clever statement like, "Today it's marshmallows, tomorrow it's porn, pot and panini presses." But then I decided to turn off that annoying part of my brain and just enjoy this video for what it is- cute freaking kids who are cuckoo for marshmallows.

Brule's Rules

Papermation

This is crazy cool. If you know how to do this papermation stuff you call me. Right now. We'll make paper magic together. I'll pay you in ice cream sandwiches.

I Gotta Feeling Teletubbies mash-up

Am I nuts, or does "I Gotta Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas sound like something Barney and/or the Teletubbies would dance to? I decided to do a ghetto fabulous mash-up to see. Mute the Tubbies vid and pump up the Peas song and play them at the same time. I gotta feeling this will change your life.

Dear Notre Dame

Dear Notre Dame,

First of all, you're a bunch of turds. You know that deep down. But let's not focus on the negative facts. Let's focus on the positive facts. Like how super awesome your head coach is. I'm no expert, and I'm not going to tell you how to do your job, but I think step one you should sign Chuck to a lifetime contract. Step two, install a treadmill in his office and implement a strict fast food ban so he can live for another 20 years. I know this suggestion may seem like a contradictory statement for me. But I know when to eat humble pie. I had Chuck all wrong. He's seriously super awesome. He coached for Bill Belichick. He won a Super Bowl. That clearly justifies hiring him. So...just keep him. Forever.

Sure you may have seen the Bearcats dismantle Rutgers today and thought, "Hmmm, that Brian Kelly sure seems like a super awesome coach." Stop right there. He's no Chuck Weis. Brian Kelly is a flash in the pan. We'll do the whole nation a favor and keep the loser around for the rest of his life. We Bearcats are self-sacrificing.

I know you're thinking, "But, Brad. Brian Kelly's offense is unstoppable." Um. Two words. Knute Rockne. His ghost will haunt your campus if you try and run Kelly's mambypamby commi ball. Stick with Chuck because of another two words. Super Bowl.

You're also probably thinking, "But, Brad. BK's players sure seem like stand up guys. We saw tons of them with Bible verses scribbled on their arms and eye-black thingys. We're a Catholic school. We love that kind of crap." Uh. Not so fast. The last thing you want is a bunch of Sunday school, goody two-shoes. Hard-nosed jerks who cuss like sailors (Lou Holtz) win championships. Let the sharpie tattooed Nancies like Tim Tebow go hug babies in the Philipines. Notre Dame is about winning football.

You say you noticed that Brian Kelly turns around every program he takes over? Coincidence. Super freaky, consistent coincidence. And again, I can't emphasize this enough; winning the Big East Championship in your second year doesn't compare to winning a Super Bowl as an assistant coach. Super Bowl rings are so much bigger.

So to summarize. Chuck Weis forever, Brian Kelly never. Thanks. You're welcome for the insights.

bw

The League of Elite Bros

I'm in the process of starting a brand new hall of fame. There's halls for sports and pretty much everything else under the sun. I'd like to start one for Elite Bros. These bros are aces among a world of pawns. They're the coolest, raddest, baddest bros to ever live. Here's a few nominees the committee is considering this year.


Check out the hair gradient on those thighs. Elite.


Magic potion came out of that horn. Everyone in that club that night turned into the coolest person they knew. For like a week. Then it wore off. But still.


Howl at the moon? More like own the moon. Take a trip to spaceland and this guy will make you pay a toll. He also sleeps standing up. Elite.


He almost makes you want lung cancer.


He's awesome at basketball, dancing and surfing on vans. He's a teenager dealing with puberty and wolferty. That's a lot to manage.


I'm not afraid to admit RDJ is my man crush. Dear Diary, RDJ eats oranges like an apple. Make a note to do the same next time I'm around citrus. XOXOXO bw


Zorro is the most super elite of all superhero bros. Unlike the wannabe elite bro, Superman, both of Zorro's personas are cool. All graffiti artists bow down to Zorro. He tags with swords and fire. Enough said.


I'm not sure if RoboCop was all make believe or just an actor who got REALLY type-casted and hence hasn't gotten any work since. Either way he's tamed this unicorn which as we all know, is the most elite of all horses due to its built-in spear.


Bo knows. He's been knowing stuff for so long it's bananas. He was seeing dead people long before Haley Joel. He was all, "Bruce Willis is dead, people. Wake up. That's the M. Night's big twist. La dee da." Just look at this poster. It's like sportsporn for bros.


Second to Miles Davis, Steve McQueen is the coolest cat to ever step off a hot tin roof. He drove fast cars super fast to meet fast women in fast cities. He could make a Toyota Corsica look rad.


The Gator Whisperer. He spoke their language. Legend goes that he turned some into dancers (the charleston, mostly) and others telegraph operators. G-Dub was odd, but elite.



Nolan threw two kinds of dairy. 1. The High Cheese. 2. Ear Cheddar. He's baseball's Daniel Boone.


Lasers shoot from his eyes. This is a no brainer.


This guy taught this bear how to ride a motorbike and lived long enough to watch happen. My hunch is, once the training wheels came off for this pic, the bear packed his trainer and a loaf of rye into a picnic basket and took off for the Hamptons. The hero sandwich was born.



The first rule of fight club is Tyler Durden looks best shirtless. But his sense of style is so rad that every now and again you don't mind if he's clothed. But mostly you want him to pop that shirt and go skins.

I Heart College Football

This billboard facing Notre Dame's campus was just put up. Poor Chuck. I hope he loses every single game this year.



Can you believe how lucky we humans are? The greatest sport on the planet starts this weekend. College Football. Somebody mash together a song by Lee Greenwood, Ludacris and Lee Corso to celebrate. We could all die and go to heaven if that happened. Can I get an amen?