Tuesday, July 29, 2008

This post is brought to you by...some cool folks...alien nation

I love radio. If I haven't made that clear enough, it's the most fun I've had in the sports business.

I love having sponsors. I love doing Vitamin Water time checks in the Bud Light studios while using my Miller Lite laptop.

We have such terrific sponsorships and partnerships. They reach customers they would never get otherwise; we get to stay on the air.

Then there are those national commercials....

At least they are educational.

I know that I am a pig if I don't wear Trojan condoms, whether I am actually in need of them or not. That I can make millions on the Internet by buying and selling stuff that I never have to see, store, or even pay for. In fact, my computer does the work while I just collect my money!!!

And that thanks to the No. 1 Swedish weight loss drug, if I am a 50-year-old woman, I can get back in a bikini. (And maybe have need for the Trojan condoms).

My favorite, however, is a commercial about depression. The woman in it is afraid to leave her house. In fact, at one point, she says, "I was afraid to live. I was afraid to die."

Well, which is it? Make up your mind, lady. I frankly hope you choose the latter.

However, nothing beats the infomercial that leads into the Sunday show. I have learned that with Organic Super Reds, my entire life will change. My prostate will benefit. My sex life would benefit (if I had one and needed the Trojans). My athletic prowess would benefit.

In fact, they are so effective, that they are endorsed by a "world-champion athlete."

The first time I heard it, I got excited. Was it Tiger Woods? Peyton Manning? Tracii Lords?

No. It was an 80-year-old handball "champion." He wrote a nice thank you letter before he won the age group championship in Australia, saying that Organic Super Reds had recently changed his life. (I wonder just how many 80-plus players there were in his age group. But I digress).

It's nice to know the 80-year-old's prostate is good. And that his sex life is benefiting.

I just hope he's not a pig and uses his Trojans.


Coming soon: My buddy Bernie visited Tombstone and took some great pictures. Bernie is one of the coolest breezes you'll ever met. As a Tombstone junkie, I'm jealous. But I have reconstructed a fake gun battle to the photos and it will pop up on the blog soon (as soon as I figure out how to post it correctly). I'll also show you why Chuck Savage is an all around racing fiend. (That's another radio tease).


Some of my favorite people on HR are the Aussies. (And Kiwis; you better make sure you differentiate. That's like Aggies and Longhorns -- or Michigan/Ohio State for you Texas-challenged folks).

They are fun-loving folks, especially on a Friday night. (Friday morning my time). They are all funny, charming, and especially entertaining after a few glasses of wine. (Or more than a few).

They LOVE rugby. It's fun watching the conversations. I now know what people from other countries feel like when we get into in-depth discussions of the zone blocking scheme, the intricacies of the cover-2 and most effective use of the zone blitz. Or if someone from another country was listening to C-squared talk fantasy football with me.

I get completely lost, but I now know that League is huge, perhaps the most popular sport in Australia. Sonny Bill's defection to France was devastating. How such a big Aussie star could steal off in the middle of the night...it makes Brett Favre possibly playing for the Bears or Vikings look like nothing.

(Dude has AWESOME tattoos, by the way. Sonny Bill. Not Brett).

The Aussie crew is a lot of fun. (And yes, I gave them all nicknames, even though they don't know it.) Whoo Roo Greg, David the horse god, Trent the cool breeze, Claire the jumper, Karla the Kiwi, Cam the super model, Super Sue, Way Kool Kerri, Mighty Mickyla and Lauren the Monty Python freak have taught me a lot about Australia and New Zealand. And entertained me many times.

Then there is Nikki and her mom, out of this world Helen.

Nikki is going to school to be a teacher. But she is also a manager of a 10-and-under rugby team. And apparently a darned good one. It got me thinking of female coaches in men's sports.

I mean, this is not something we do in America. Yes, Goldie Hawn did coach football in Wildcats. And they did win the title. But wasn't that really Wesley Snipes? Wasn't he the real reason they won?That and Woody Harrelson's unselfishness?

Then there was that awful Whoopie Goldberg basketball movie. I can't even remember the name of it.

Anyway, props to the Aussies, and to Nikki. You guys always make me laugh.

Now what can we do about this Sonny Bill situation?


Sunday's non-sports topic was best and worst aliens. My mom wanted to call in with John Travolta in Battlefield Earth as her favorite, but she wasn't able to get in. (FYI: Her husband just had triple bypass surgery, among other stuff. Get well soon dude).

Just because of that, I won't rip her for Travolta, but...

Anyway, my five best aliens:

1) Predator
2) The Silver Surfer
3) The Transformers (the new ones, not the originals)
4) Alf
5) Alien

Five worst:

1) Mork
2) John Travolta's girlfriend in Battlefield Earth
3) John Travolta
4) E.T.
5) Sam Cassell.


Private memo to Hu: Look, I got through a whole post without mentioning Val...


Anonymous said...

You made it right till the very end! Hu xox

Patricia D'Licia said...

ooooh Fred. .. DOes the Sonny . . .boy. . whoever. . . rugby dude/tattoo comment mean you are about to take my advice and make tats your next addiction? I've been saying for years that we should get you hooked on tats. Much more interesting than compulsive gambling, addictive fitness or any of your other vices. And trust me, I know from vice. . .

Do you by any chance know anything about motorcycles? The objects themselves, not the sports involving them. . I am supposed to have my new/used on delivered today, but to be fair, I dont know squat about them, and I'd like someone here to say "this is a dog." If indeed, it is a dog.

And now for the TMI portion of my comment - I go for a diagnostic mammogram today. Say a prayer for healthy boobies everywhere.

When are you coming to see us? We are going to have folks over for chili during the Texans first away game. See you then??

Muchas Smooches-

Joe said...

So now you're going to turn into "Ink Man?" Look, dude ... there are about 20 tat shops all along Burnet Road here in Austin just begging for your business. Hell, there's the Poodle Dog Lounge next door to a tat shop. So you go get hammered, think getting a full-body tat is super and -- Shazam!! -- you wake up and are "Tat-Man"!!

Having said all that hoo-hah, I can say that some of the sanest (as in mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually) people I know around my communities have tats. That's OK.

Tats aren't just for me, though. Not my deal. Yes, dear God, I, too, have my vices. Enough said.

So here's looking forward -- if you choose to take on this mission, Mr. Phelps -- to seeing Big Daddy Freddy's tat. Ehh ... maybe not.

Take care -- Joe

Chris C said...

You hit the 5 best and 5 worst aliens perfectly! Cheech from "Up in Smoke" would've been #6 best;).

Tatt? F no Freddy! Just think how bad that'll look when you get old, oh damn you are old, aight get one;). Girls with thin "tramp stamps" or "ass hats" is sometimes a nice addition, but unless you buy a chopper no need.

Come up with a new nickname? Fred Money isnt too bad.

No double rods, just Double C!

- Chris C

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