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?

Digital Filmmaking 101

If you want to get involved at VCC with our various video endeavors, my man Isaac Stambaugh is teaching a course called Digital Filmmaking 101. It starts this Wednesday and registration is filling up. So click the above link and sign up today. Here's a description.

The first step into joining the Vineyard's plunge into filmmaking. This course will introduce you to the production process, improve your entry-level skills, and get you ready (if you choose) to join the crew of our next digital feature film. If you're a student thinking about studying media at the collegiate level, this is a rare opportunity to get a head start through hands-on experience.

TigerPumpkins

Sorry Cincinnati, I love you, like a lot, but I hate your football team. Always have. I went last night to the pre-season game and noticed that there are a lot of positives (+) and negatives (-) about the Bengals. Here's a short list.

- The color scheme. Combining orange and black in fashion is like combining poison and pre-schoolers. They don't go together. They're toxic together. Those mothers that are mad about DD need to get mad about the Cincinnati TigerPumpkins. The uniforms and the inspired fashion disasters fans feel compelled to wear are a tragic crime against our retinas

+ If you're one of those weirdees who love Halloween then your beloved holiday comes around every Sunday. Lucky you. Break out the dry ice and jump out of coffins you freaks.

- Mike Brown. The guy bamboozles everyone. The city and NFL lets him run around doing whatever he wants cuz his grandpa (?) invented face masks. Letting Mike Brown run a football team would be like letting a poisoned pre-schooler be your shrimp boat captain.

+ Lots of cops earn lots of overtime. I imagine these cops have families. I bet these families like coney dogs. Overtime buys coney dogs. The Bengals are feeding cop families coney dogs. They're practically the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

- Bengals fans. They assault all five of your senses. 1. sight- see the above point about orange and black fashion. 2. hearing- they relentlessly scream inane things like Who Dey. 3. taste- i'm not sure how they offend this sense but they do. 4. touch- they spill beer on each other like it's part of the game. 5. smell- they reek of beer, menthol cigarettes, and goetta.

+ Each game the fans adopt Milwaukee as their sister city by buying/drinking enough Miller Lite to get 500 whales sloppy drunk.

- The parking lot trash cans the stadium get bombed by 500 million Miller Lite cans and throw up all over the sidewalks.

+ Entrepreneurial homeless men and women have the chance to turn a bag full of cans into $0.37.

- Grown men in face paint. Women wearing furry tiger tails from their jean skirts.

+ Chad Ochocinco. He's Cincinnati's Dennis Rodman sans the transgender leanings. Fans try to hate them but they wanna marry him.

- That one time a few years back when the TigerPumpkins made the playoffs. Fans turned into crazy people. It was like a bunch of blind people could finally see and they ran around talking like they've been watching sunsets for their whole life. Figure that metaphor out.

+ Lots of short buses have been recycled into PartyPumpkins. That's good on a number of levels.

- I saw one broke down on the highway as I drove to work today. It was like seeing a moustachioed-man in a Members Only jacket strolling the playground. There's a place where it's ok to be mustachioed and rocking exclusive windbreakers. A playground is not that place. Same with PartyPumpkins. They're pretty sweet when they're blasting Guns N' Roses and grilling sausages among other Pumpkins down by the stadium. But when they're all alone on the highway miles away from their friends, it's just sad. I want to say it's creepy in order to continue my metaphor, but that would be forced. Much like this entire post. Bottom line is I hate the Bengals.

Ole' School

Man, this brings back memories...

Release...

A pastor friend wrote me asking for creative ideas so I dug into the archives and foud a piece I wrote awhile ago. If you're in need of a meditative moment and you struggle with some level of perfectionism- give this a try. Listen to the song as you slowly read the text. Maybe something'll happen. Maybe not. Either way it's a pretty decent song.



Release...
take a deep breath in...
and release...
feels good doesn't it?
try closing your eyes for a few seconds and just listen to the piano...

what if we let go?
...stopped trying to be perfect
...stopped chasing something that doesn't exist.
because the truth is...
we will never look "perfect"
our job will never be "perfect"
our friends and family will never act "perfectly"
what does that even mean? "perfect"...?
the perfect house,
spouse,
kids,
life...
they don't exist.
relationships are not perfect...
we know that in theory...
yet we want them to be…
and we get frustrated when they aren't.
we hold grudges for others' imperfections...
for their mistakes.
we carry with us disappointments...
we hold onto the let downs caused by imperfections.
we carry regret...
for not being the perfect friend
for being the imperfect spouse
for demanding from our kids what we can't provide...
perfection.
we carry guilt...
for our imperfect faith...
our imperfect past...
what if you let the regret go...
release...
take a deep breath in...
and release...
God doesn't want your perfection...
He doesn't demand what you cannot give.
He just wants your faith...
your trust...
your belief that Jesus' sacrifice makes you perfect.
perfectly broken...
perfectly human...
perfectly forgiven...
perfectly loved...
by the only One who provides what we all desire...
...Perfection.

Chicken Tetrazzini

Bear Nap

Bear shaped sleeping bag. A must have for sleeping in bear-infested woods. They're horrible monsters, but bears have great respect for sleepytimes and refuse to interrupt a good bear nap. I hear. If you try it let me know how it works out.

Billy and the Kid

Hey there Kiddy Widdy.

What'd ju say?

What's the word, Rocky Socky?

Say man. Are you retarded or something?

Drinking a little Coorsy Woorsy?

Hey, Kentucky Waterfall. Quit talking like such a gay queer.

Ok.

Thank you. Dang, man. I was about to stab your redneck with this silver bullet.

Oucy wouchy.

My name is KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIID ROCK.