Well, Rangers fans, it looks like we won’t have superstar pitcher Cliff Lee to lift our hearts next season. According to my buddy Evan Grant, the dean of Rangers Reports, the stinky Yankees offered Lee $168 million dollars over seven years to pitch in NYC.
I’ve been a sports fan all of my life, but about eight years ago I gave them all up because I got tired of using my economics degree to read the sports pages. The fun, for me, was gone. This year I was lured back into loving a team. For seven months I was swept off my feet. I sold stock to buy World Series tickets. I lost my voice screaming at the games. I paid $6 for Bud Lites. And look what happens. Cliff Lee breaks my aging heart. (Hint: this is also why I don’t date.)
Follow me. (more…)
Just in case you missed her double feature with Rick Perry, Barnes & Noble says Missus Former Governor Former Vice Presidential Candidate Mama Grizzly TLC Realty Star Fox News Commentator Author Sarah Palin will be signing her latest book, and only her latest book, on Nov. 28 at the Lincoln Park location.
However, you will need to clear your calendar for the entire day. Skip church. Because you’ll need to be in line for a wristband at 9 a.m., and then come back at 6 p.m. for the signing.
One more thing to get you fired up for the game now less than two hours away. Passed on to me by Twitter pal Chris Ebbesen. CLAW! ANTLERS! JUMP!
Just stop for a minute, and take this in: A team who was mired in bankruptcy, with a payroll of $55 million, just beat a team that basically expects to go to the World Series every year because it’s what they do. And now the Rangers will go to the World Series. The Rangers, not the Yankees. Some fans have waited patiently since the team came here for this. Some just noticed that there’s a baseball club in Arlington, and the debit card charge at Wal-Mart for their Rangers shirt hasn’t even cleared the bank yet.
But I think Ron Washington has summed up the feeling best. Here, and here. Wash’s heart and gut beat (as someone aptly pointed out to me as we all watched the game) Joe Girardi’s binder. It sounds like a story book ending, because it is. These are your Texas Rangers, y’all, and they’re going to the World Series.
Last week, while campaigning, Rick Perry stopped off in Temple, where he regaled the crowd at Clem Mikeska’s Bar-B-Q with ways Republicans could win in other states.
Aaaaand then he did something that bent my mind. I mean it. Darn near snapped it in half. I had to nap after I read this, to get my head right again.
“There is still a land of opportunity, friends — it’s called Texas. We’re creating more jobs than any other state in the nation. … Would you rather live in a state like this, or in a state where a man can marry a man?”
So, in other words, jobs will be created in Texas not by incentives or other mundane economical voodoo, but by keeping gays from marrying.
As you can imagine, people have taken notice.
By now you’ve already read this piece on Celina, Texas, the small town that wanted a Tollway to run through it. The article mentions Lazy N Farms, a mini pony farm that, had the town received its wish, would have had the Tollway run right along its edge. A couple of us were intrigued by these mini ponies so we made the (long) trek out to Celina to see what they’re all about. We learned these ponies were originally used to haul things around in coal mines and that they weigh between 250-300 pounds. We also learned that the American Miniature Horse Association World Show is taking place September 24 through October 2 in Fort Worth. Then we got a little taste of what the show’s like. Check out the video. (And please, please, please forgive us for the fact that there’s a hurricane blowing through the entire time. It was about a billion degrees, and we never even noticed the wind.)
It’s still hot outside, you guys.
(Now someone give me my $50 stipend. )
This is a thing that happened, according to Michael Irvin.
So what do you wear to “perform like a Hall of Famer on the field and off?”
Apparently, people love that picture of Our State’s Governor, flashing some kind of gang sign/plea for help/smooth move that I posted here. So here’s a weekend experiment: Duplicate the gesture, in a Dallas locale, this weekend. Use the camera on your phone. Tweet it, with the hashtag #perryhands. Monday, we’ll show a children’s treasury of Frontburnervians getting their Perry on.
Go forth and photograph.
I don’t know know exactly what made it to air regarding Tim’s suddenly hot David Finfrock shirt, because I was finishing up one catnap and just on the verge of another during last night’s 10 PM news. So I will just let your imagination run wild with this extremely odd B-roll footage and a great quote from Joe Capasso.
“[Tim] has a fascination with David Finfrock bordering on — it is creepy, it’s not bordering on, it’s gone over the border to creepy — and so I thought Tim Rogers would really love a Finfrock shirt to go along with his David Finfrock bedsheets and pillowcases and his Finfrock posters.”
Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob? I’m neither. I’m Team Chupacabra. So you can imagine how excited I was to hear that, according to WFAA, chupacabras might be roaming around North Texas. Unfortunately, the whole thing might only be a grab for ratings. Boo.
And by someone, I mean not me.
But boy howdy, it sounds like today’s was a doozy. A humdinger. I mean, golly, you should see what went down. I read the account on this electronic doohickey contraption, and I had boocoo thoughts. My 10wol review? Such language, young man. John Wiley Price is a spitfire. It was..
OK. I can’t do it anymore. Let’s jump. (more…)

Arete by Brandon Bird
I had to do some research on painter/t-shirt designer/Valentine maker Brandon Bird after clicking on this. And even though I chose Arete with Chuck Norris (needed a local peg), it isn’t even close to being the best painting of the bunch. Please go here for No One Wants to Play Sega with Harrison Ford. It will change your life. You’re welcome, and may the force be with you.
So sometimes, when I’ve got a few minutes and there’s no vodka, I search for blogs that talk about Dallas. Today, I found this one called Niners Nation, which is apparently about the cute little San Francisco 49ers.
And I found this post, entitled, “At Least We’re Not … The Dallas Cowboys!” And apparently, I need to explain satire to these adorable little misshapen-headed Niners fans, because it ceases to be satirical if you essentially apologize and insist you’re just joshing both before and after your unimaginative attempt at skewering the Cowboys.
True satire needs no disclaimer.
For instance, I could point out that you’ve been a sad shell of your former self since Montana left, and that would be the truth. I could say that Cowboys fans find you adorable, because we really save most of our abject hatred for the Redskins. That, too, would be the truth.
When you bring up that we grossly overpaid for Roy Williams, we know this. And it’s fact. It’s hardly satirical to point out the obvious. And we thought we were getting this Roy Williams (See what I did there? Satire).
And yes, yes, we know that our quarterback’s last name rhymes with homo. And if he were one, we’d be OK with that. Ironically, you, San Francisco, bring this up, and make it sound like a derogatory thing.
So in conclusion, satire is funny. Come to Dallas, and we’ll teach you it.
Last week, I asked if this Friday feature should continue. The response seemed to be a tentative yes (with a few notable dissenters saying that they wished I would die). So by popular demand, here is this week’s installment, wherein I call an ad in the Dallas Observer. This one was listed in the “adult services” section and read:
BEAUTIFUL OLIVE-TONED EGYPTIAN GODDESS
is ready to play. Pet my sphinx!!
Squeeze my pyramids!
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