Even Diddy Would Blush

First, fifty lashes with a wet noodle for being so delinquent on this blog. 

Now, onto business.

Justin Timberlake, stop biting my shit. This link was posted in January and has gone through some iterations. The gist of that January post was as follows...in the midst of the Giants epic playoff run I put some new words to Three Dog Night's "Eli's Coming". If you want this blog to make any sense you should probably click on the link above now and read that post and then come back. 

Again, because I sure as hell can't get enough...

What's 5'6", dates attractive woman, dances extraordinary well, and is behind the originality curve by five months...

You heard it hear first, kinda, sorta, whatever. For you loyal readers, I thought you'd appreciate knowing that when you read this blog, you are, like, looking several months into the future, or something. 

Anyway, on to more pressing matters...Despite what it may say above, today is July 4th, and in true American fashion I am spending the 4th in the epicenter of gluttony, The Hamptons. Despite what VH1 might feed you, coming out here can be a very relaxing, mellow, and quiet. However, fortunately for cable TV networks, the Hamptons are also abound with d-bags, and baygs who provide fuel for the fire, and in this case, my blog. Last weekend, after a lovely dinner, a friend recommended we go to this guy's house. He said something to the effect of, "this isn't going to be fun, but it's amazing people watching". I love me some people watching so I agreed to tag along. We arrived at a very nice house in Southampton that had been rented by a singular person. This kid apparently had money to burn. When we entered the house a cadre of girls were playing around with this pretty sweet looking blender and making strawberry margaritas, with patron, obviously. Anything less would be uncivilized. After standing around and playing some jewish geography I just didn't want to be there anymore. The atmosphere was getting stale, it had been a hectic day at work, and I just wanted to go home. And then someone suggested playing a few games of flip cup...talk about something right in my wheelhouse.

I went outside to the table and saw no beer. Kind of hard to play flip cup with no beer. Never fear, tonight flip cup would not be played with beer, it would be played with Dom Perignon. 

Definitely does not go down as smoothly as Miller Lite.

I'm not really into champagne, but who was I to pass up on this most utterly ridiculous variation of flip cup. This was more offensive than Diddy driving motorcycles off of his diving board into his pool just because he could. After several quick games and four empty bottles on the table, one girl remarked as she pointed to the empties, "that's a pair of shoes right there". What type of shoes were we talking about here? I countered by saying that the equivalent amount of money could've been taken to the Bass Outlet in Amagansett and used to purchase footwear for all 37 Pitt-Jolie children. 

I guess the point is that back in 1776, if the American soldiers had any idea they were fighting so that in 2008 some over-privileged kid could pour expensive French champagne all over a Chinese made table while smoking Canadian-grown marijuana, the soldiers probably would have laid down their guns, gone home, and watched reruns of Entourage. 

On this July 4th 2008, I am thankful for Eli Manning...what? Wrong holiday. On this July 4th I say Americans...grab an American flag (made in China), grab a burger (from a cattle ranch in Canada), grab your stereo (made in Japan), and grab the nearest piece of tail (your Polish housekeeper, nicely done), and just realize we ain't in Kansas anymore.