So far, not so bad

Sorry to all that I haven't posted in a couple of days.

Just a little update to my friends who may have left town and wonder what's going on. Figured I'd write a little something while we still have power.

First, anyone with access to DirecTV can watch WDSU coverage live on Channel 361.

As of now (midnight CDT Monday), the weather has not detoriated all that much in Metairie. I did go to work for a few hours, but was allowed to leave at about 9 p.m. Many of the people who went in tonight stayed. I am going to try and head back in the morning, assuming the wind won't blow me off the road and there's no flooding. So far, we haven't received too much rain. My guess is less than a half-inch.

UPDATE (2 a.m. Monday): Conditions remain the same as two hours ago. Little rain, and we still have power. DirecTV still has not gone out. (Knock on wood.) Winds have slightly increased to about 30 mph, with gusts in the 40-45 range.

We had a couple of mini feeder bands come through, but I don't think the wind ever reached 40 mph. I'm sure you all are watching the news, but it looks as if we'll be spared the brunt of Gooostav. I felt confident it was the right thing to do to keep my family here, despite our mayor's over-the-top speech last night that we were all going to die if we stayed. (I will definitely be doing a blog on that in the coming days, but I don't have time to waste my keystrokes on that right now.)

The power is still on, as still is DirecTV. It hasn't even gone out a bit, yet, but I suppose that will change in the coming hours. I will be surprised if the power doesn't go out for at least a little while. (Although I was surprised that I was able to leave work. I fully intended on staying there tonight.)

We are hoping this takes even a miniscule jog to the west. Even 20 or 30 more miles than the projected landfall could save the Westbank from some severe flooding. Here in Metairie, we aren't expecting much water, and it's beginning to look like we won't even have sustained hurricane-force winds.

Before I sign off, everyone should know that we're all OK. The newsroom seemed to be in good spirits, and I did not get a feel that the managers seemed to be worried all that much. In fact, I believe half of them had left before I did. Now, tomorrow could be another story, but I don't think so.

All of you stay safe, and keep watching. We'll be OK, even though this is "the Mother of all storms."

I will try to update tomorrow afternoon from work, assuming we have power and internet access. I am thinking about you all, and hoping you can come home soon.

God Bless.

For the birds (and all things that fly)

I hope I don't regret this deciding-to-stay thing.

So since last night with me berating you all for panicking, Gooostav has moved almost southwest for a day, and the projected track hasn't changed very much. Yep, it's still pointed almost right at us. But I'm not scared. I am standing by my word(s): It's not coming here, dammit.

At least it won't hit on my birthday this time.

And besides, I have nature on my side. Don't believe me? Well, just read this -- paraphrased from a Ponchatoula man who called into Bob DelGiorno's radio show last night on WWL.

"Bob, you're going to call me crazy for this one, but I just have to tell you this. I have a nice-sized property up here with plenty of open space behind my house. I have a long fence line, and on that fence line is a long line of wasps' nests.

"Now Bob, there are thousands of wasps on this fence line, and I swear to you that three years ago, two weeks before SHE came, those wasps disappeared. They went and hid underneath an old outdrive motor. They went underneath an overhang. They were not on that fence line.

"People have been telling me for years to get rid of those things, but I won't. I went out there this afternoon, and they're all there. I believe that these things know when something bad is going to happen. And not just wasps, but birds, animals, everything. This isn't to say that I'm not concerned, but I feel a little better knowing the wasps don't seem to be too scared."

I don't think Mr. X from Ponchatoula is crazy at all. I think back to the morning of Aug. 28, 2005, when we decided to leave because of HER. Me and my bestest roommates of all time were heading out, and as I was standing outside waiting to take off, I noticed there were no birds flying. Anywhere. The birds in the nest that had been bothering us every night before we went to bed were gone. The trees had nothing on them but leaves. The wires stretched across the endless line of power poles were bare. Not a chirp. Not a peep. Just an eerie feel surrounding us. (Except these three parrots who looked like they had escaped from Jamaica or something. Weird. Very, very weird.)

I will never forget that. That quiet spoke volumes for what was about to come.

This one is different. I'd be a fool not to be concerned, as I have committed to staying this time, and I pray that I am not keeping my family in harm's way. (Although, I won't hesitate to have them leave if it looks Monday like it will be a repeat of '05.)

I just don't feel it, and I truly think I have been blessed with an innate gift of being able to predict these sorts of things. Maybe I was a bird in my past life. (Probably would have been a mockingbird, but that's for another blog.)

Maybe it's my momma telling me everything is going to be OK. I don't know. I just hope I'm right.

Be safe. Good luck. God Bless.

Top 20 office quotes (No. 11)

April 6, 2003:
(After Clotile jumped into the dugout at Zephyr Field and broke her ankle)
Former sports editor: "The good news is when they took her to the vet, they got her spayed at the same time."

Top 20 office quotes (No. 12)

March 24, 2004:
Me: "I'm trying to say something nice about the Reds." DJW: "Marge Schott is dead."

LAGNIAPPE WEDNESDAY NIGHT
DJW: "I hear Da Wife is trying to find a nice girl for The Gene Pool?"
WWB: "Or maybe not-so-nice."

Will you people just calm down?

Here comes Gustav. Big damned deal.

People across New Orleans (including 90 percent of the people I know) are panicking, thinking we have a repeat of HER coming this way. Ain't gonna happen.

Should we be prepared in case it looks this early track comes to fruition? Sure. Should we have plans in case we have to pick up and leave? Absolutely. Should we begin to call the insurance company to get our claims ready? Get real.

If you plan on living here, get over it. Get yourself prepared, make a plan, even take all the cash from the bank you might think you'll need on a road trip. Hell, even fill the tank up with gas. Just stop the freakin panicking, because it's NEVER going to change. Every year there will be one, two, possibly three or four storms in which the projected path takes it within 100 miles of the city. One likely will be projected to be a Category 3 or worse. One every other year will be projected to come right up the mouth of the river. And 39 times out of 40, it will veer to the right, or better yet, never even come close to the projected path.

Take Gustav, for example. Monday's 5 p.m. forecast for then-Hurricane Gustav had it strengthening to about 90 mph and heading WNW about 150 to 200 miles by this afternoon. Instead, it weakened to a 45-mph tropical storm and moved west-SOUTHwest about 80 or 100 miles.

The point is, da weatherman doesn't know what the hell he's talking about. Bob Breck even said so last night. "Folks, we just don't know where it's going yet."

Everyone, please, please, please, continue to watch the toupee king and by Saturday, we might have a clue. Until then, if you can't take the water, get out of the soup bowl you live in.

Be safe.

Top 20 office quotes (No. 13)

Aug. 14, 2008:
Me (after some meaningless trivia is spewed once again around the Sports department): "Max, you have some unbelievable info in your head."
The Gene Pool: "Yeah Max, you have nice nuggets."

From the mouths of babes

Let me preface this by saying when I was 5 years old, I had no idea where babies came from. My guess is I really didn't care all that much.

Today's child? Like everything else in this world, is much different. Today, there are 5-year-old kids who know more about some things than I do. I have seen 7 and 8 year olds work a computer better than me, and I think I have above-average knowledge on the subject.

But today's quote comes from Da Wife's (only two days left to vote, people) little 5-year-old niece.

Her mom is in the hospital preparing to bring little Stella into the world, and Grace walks into the kitchen and asks this: "Aunt Da Wife, Did Stella come out my mommy's gina yet?"

Might take a while to top that one.

Got my eye on you

I have NEVER had a reason to distrust da wife. That being said, I think she might have a crush on The Gene Pool.

Maybe it's just jealousy; you be the judge.

At least three times in the past 10 days or so, I walk in the den and she's cracking up. I mean it's like someone took out the tickling feather and went to town. (If I ever catch The Gene Pool doing this, Tina will be wearing black for an f'in month.) And if I call up TGP at any random moment and say, "Honey, did you see this, it's hysterical," the response is always the same. "I read that already."

Seriously, WTF?

I'm a funny dude sometimes, I think? When I ask her to look at something on my blog, she'll call it up (which means she hadn't read my blog, but she's read TGP arrrrggghhh), and she'll scroll down quickly through it and say something like, "That's cute."

Cute? Cute??!!?? F'ing cute??????!!!!!????? A poodle's cute. (That's for you, JLE.) An f'ing baby is cute. Hell, even a God damned advertising slogan for body wash can be cute. But I'm cute and TGP is the best thing since HD television?

Horse hockey. I think something is up here. It has to be. And I'm going to keep my eye on this whole situation.

She even had the gall to say last week, "Why can't you be like Gene? He's funny." (Although she tried to tell me yesterday that she didn't say it like that. Again, HH.)

OK, no need to judge. I guess I admit that I am a little jealous. I want to know what I have to do to be more funny. I don't have a mom that spews the F bomb like an 18-year-old chick does her chinese food after 11 Miller Lites on a Saturday night. I don't have a pool to have pool parties and have cool friends come over and give me endless fodder to write about. And I certainly don't have the frickin memory that TGP has. I mean who really can recall an embarassing moment from the fifth grade? For me that would be like 1977 or something. In case you're too young to figure out how long ago that was, gas was 80 cents a gallon then and Lee Majors was cool. (I know, "Who's Lee Majors?")

You know, maybe that bastard really is that much funnier than me. I have to look at this in a completely different light. Take the high road, yeah, that's it. Maybe I can secretly get some lines from TGP at work and then bring 'em home and see if D-Dub will go for 'em as my own.

It's worth a shot, I think. Because I ain't playin second fiddle to that something, something, something, something, something, 20-something. I can't remember what I had for lunch on my first day of school in seventh grade, but I can be funny God dammit.

At least I hope I can.

Top 20 office quotes (No. 14)

May 16, 1994:
Pete calls; I answer. Pete says: "Can I talk to somebody?"

Top 20 office quotes (No. 15)

March 8, 1999:
PVW: "22 years ago I started doing agate, and now I'm doing the Digest."

Top 20 office quotes (No. 16)

July 6, 2006 (After an hour-long debate of the best movies of all time):
JRap: "Benji was a (homosexual) dog."

A birthday treat

With B-day No. 40 coming up next week, I was thinking about what I'd want for a present. It's pretty simple, really, and it wouldn't cost anyone any money. Of course, though, I'm probably one of millions who want the same thing.

These people are young and old, some maybe even 100 years old, to be exact. In case you haven't figured it out by now (and I don't want to talk too much about it because of being so superstitious) is that I am a huge Chicago Cubs fan. Have been for about three-quarters of my life.

I have had the emotional highs and lows like all others who bleed blue and red, and in fact, my Cubs high and Cubs low happened within 10 days of the other.

The high came Oct. 5, 2003, in Atlanta when I was with my biggest, bestest Cubs buddy, Mickey D. The Cubs beat the Braves 5-1 to clinch their first postseason Series since 1908, when they won the World Series. Kerry Wood sprayed champagne on us. Somewhere on one of Eric Karros' old video tapes is me with my boys. I hugged some dude I never met -- and never saw again -- for what would have been a inordinately awkward amount of time any other day. I chanted the Braves rally cry for about 10 minutes in front of an Atlanta deli before some Braves fan shouted, "Enough already. We get it. We lost."

The low came Oct. 14, 2003. I remember the exact spot I was standing when that bastard Bartman touched the ball. It hurts too much to go into the details, but all I can say is within seconds of him ruining what would have been the 23rd out with just four to go, I said, "It's over; we lost the series." I didn't need the next 25 hours to prove I was right. Nuff said.

Anyway, I decided with my birthday coming up and with my wish and all, I'd give myself and the one or two of you Cubs fans who might be reading this a treat. It's the top 10 Cubs games played on my birthday, followed by some worthless trivia. (But go ahead. Impress your friends next Friday and give them some "back on this date" BS. They'll probably call you sick, like da wife did when I told her I was going to spend about three hours doing this research. And actually, it was more like five. Even sicker.)

Here we go ...

10. August 29, 1986: Cubs 7, Braves 3 (at Atlanta)
--> Mainly because this is was just one day before the first major-league regular-season game I ever attended. The Cubs won on my birthday, but lost when I was there the next day. In this one, the Cubbies scored two runs in the fourth and five in the fifth to take it. Bobby Dernier hit a three-run homer, Manny Trillo was 3-for-3 with two RBIs, and Scott Sanderson pitched seven innings, allowing three runs and striking out eight.

9. August 29, 1984: Cubs 7, Reds 2 (at Wrigley Field)
--> In the season in which they made the postseason for the first time since losing to Detroit in the 1945 World Series, this was win No. 79, including their fourth in a row. Rick Sutcliffe (who lost that first major-league game I ever attended Aug. 30, 1986) was dominating, pitching eight innings, allowing two earned runs. Sutcliffe, who was traded from Cleveland earlier in the season, was 16-1 with the Cubs on the way to an NL Cy Young Award. Leon Durham, whom I have forgiven for allowing a ball to go through his legs which might have cost us the 1984 NLCS, hit a three-run homer in the third to give the Cubs a 5-1 lead. Ryne Sandberg was 3-for-5.

8. August 29, 2000: Cubs 7, Padres 6, 13 innings (at Wrigley Field)
--> The longest game played on my birthday since I was born. In fact, there have only been four extra-inning games on Aug. 29 since 1968, and the Cubs are 3-1. In this one, Ricky Gutierrez's sacrifice fly in the 13th scored Eric Young to win it. This came after Rick Aguilera blew his eighth save of the season in the ninth, giving up an RBI single to some guy named Mike Darr. Roosevelt Brown, Joe Girardi and Willie Green each had two RBIs. It was a rare bright spot for a team that upped its record to 57-74. They only won eight more games the rest of the season, finishing 65-97 in Don Baylor's first season.

7. August 29, 1991: Cubs 5, Giants 4 (at San Francisco)
--> Greg Maddux pitched a complete game -- one of seven he had that season -- allowing three runs in the first three innings, before settling down. 1991 was the season before Maddux began a string of winning four consecutive Cy Young Awards. Also in this game, George Bell was 3-for-3 with three RBIs. He also hit a two-run homer in the fifth to give the Cubs a 4-3 lead. Dwight Smith won it in the eighth with a game-winning RBI single. Andre Dawson was 2-for-4 with an RBI.

6. August 29, 1969: Cubs 2, Braves 1 (at Atlanta)
--> Boy, I remember it well sitting in that playpen with my dad raising those rabbit ears 200 feet in the air up the ham radio tower so he could get WGN for me. OK, maybe not. But because the Cubbies didn't play on the day I was born, this is the first Aug. 29 game for me. And they won! Don Kessinger was 3-for-4, Ron Santo batted cleanup and was 2-for-4, and Jim Hickman hit a game-winning solo home run in the seventh. Bill Hands pitched a complete game, allowing six hits, one walk, while striking out four to go 16-11. In the most odd play I have ever heard of, Cubs great Billy Williams hit into a 3-6-2-5-1-4-7 triple play!

5. August 29. 1988: Cubs 2, Astros 1, 11 innings (at Houston)
--> Just 21 days after the first night game at Wrigley, Greg Maddux pitched well in the Astrodome but couldn't get a win. He went nine innings (he did that twice on my B-day), but got a no-decision, as he allowed six walks and struck out five. The game-winning hit came from Mitch Webster in the top of the 11th on a single that drove home pinch-runner Darrin Jackson. Scott Sanderson earned his first win of the season in relief.

4. August 29, 1999: Cubs 6, Dodgers 0 (at Los Angeles)
--> Despite improving their record to a paltry 54-75, it was a good night on the West Coast for the Lovable Losers. Sammy Sosa hit his 54th homer of the season and 117th in two seasons (he finished with 63 in 1999) off Darren Dreifort in the seventh. Mark Grace was 1-for-3 with an RBI. But the interesting stat here is that Kyle Farnsworth pitched the only complete game in his career, a two-hit shutout. He walked three and struck out two, and he was never the same again. ;)

3. August 29, 2003: Cubs 4, Brewers 2 (at Wrigley Field)
--> Oddly enough, this is the last time the Cubs have won on my birthday, and this was the fifth season in a row that they won on Aug. 29. Catcher Damian Miller's solo homer in the eighth put the seal on a win the boys in blue desperately needed on the way to a playoff berth. Kenny Lofton, Sammy Sosa, Eric Karros, Aramis Ramirez and Miller all had multi-hit games. Another interesting stat in this one: It was the third consecutive season Matt Clement got a decision in a Cubs win on my B-day. In 2001, he lost 5-1 to Chicago when pitching for Florida, and in 2002, he defeated Milwaukee.

2. August 29, 2002: Cubs 13, Brewers 10 (at Milwaukee)
--> By far, the highest scoring game on Aug. 29 in Cubs history. Most of the pop came from a 10-run fourth for Chicago, which used homers in the inning from Bill Mueller and Mark Bellhorn. Eight Cubs knocked in runs in a game between teams with a combined record of 102-163. Matt Clement earned the win, and despite the score, he didn't pitch all that poorly. He allowed four earned runs in seven innings, and he struck out 10. Bellhorn, though, was the star in this wild one, going 2-for-5 with two homers and five RBIs.

1. August 29, 1989: Cubs 10, Astros 9, 10 innings (at Wrigley Field)
--> This one is tops on the list by a wide margin. I remember this one pretty well, and even remember watching it from the bedroom of my girlfriend's parents' house. (Pretty sad that's how I spent my 21st birthday, I know.) If I remember correctly, it was a late afternoon game, like starting at 3:20 or something, because I think it ended under the lights. Houston took a 9-0 lead in the fifth on a grand slam by Rafael Ramirez, who went 3-for-5 with seven RBIs. But the Cubs came back little by little. They scored two in the sixth, and Lloyd McClendon's two-run homer in the seventh cut the lead to 9-4. Dwight Smith later singled in Mark Grace to make it 9-5 at the end of seven. Joe Girardi started the bottom of the eighth with a single between short and third, and he advanced to second on a passed ball. Vance Law flied out to center, and NL Rookie of the Year Jerome Walton reached first on an error, with Girardi going to third. Ryne Sandberg, Grace and McClendon followed with RBI singles, and Smith's sacrifice fly tied the score at 9. In the 10th, Smith did it again, this time with an RBI single with the bases loaded and one out off Houston closer Dave Smith. Cubs win! Cubs win!

OTHER ODD CUBS' STATS FOR AUG. 29 SINCE 1968
--> The Cubs have been off just three times on this date in the past 40 years: 1968, 1970 and 1994 (strike year). This year, they host the Phillies -- (the first time in my lifetime they will play the Phillies on Aug. 29).
--> Their overall record is 20-17. Currently they're on a four-game losing streak, which followed a five-game winning streak on Aug. 29.
--> Their home record is 9-6, road 11-11.
--> The team they've played the most on my birthday: Atlanta, by far. They're 5-5 against them. Second is Los Angeles (4-2) and third is Houston (3-3).
--> The Cubs, strangely enough, have played one interleague game, on Aug. 29, 1997, losing at Cleveland 7-6 (Orel Hershiser picked up the win).
--> Pete LaCock hit his only career homer Aug. 29, 1974, and it was the only run the Cubs scored that day in a 3-1 loss at Los Angeles.
--> There have been 11 complete games pitched in Cubs games on my birthday -- eight for Chicago (Bill Hands in '69, Milt Pappas in '72, Ray Burris in '75 and '76, Greg Maddux in '91, Kyle Farnsworth in '99, Jason Bere in '01 and Matt Clement in '03) and three for an opponent (Bill Singer a loss for the Dodgers in '72, Gaylord Perry for the Padres in '79 and Tom Browning for the Reds in '87).
--> Ryne Sandberg has the most at-bats for the Cubs on my birthday and was 20-for-54 (.370 BA) with one home run in 1992.

Top 20 office quotes (No. 17)

February 25, 2000:
Mike M.: Clark, you have an 8-inch NBA hole. Clark: What did you call me?

Say what?

WWL-TV meterologist Jonathan Myers on Tropical Storm Fay, which made landfall yesterday after about a week or 10 days: "It seems like we have been monitoring Fay forever. And we almost have been."

Family Fool

I want to be on a game show some day. For two years, I have dreamt of being on Deal or No Deal, telling Howie how I was going for the million and then looking over at da wife and her giving me the eyes of, "You better take that God damned deal or you'll think Lorena Bobbitt was the tooth fairy."

Ahh, dreams. It's sort of like the lottery in that you can't win if you don't try. And unlike the lottery, I haven't tried to get on a game show.

But that leads me to my point. I wouldn't try out for a game show that I know would make me look like an idiot on national television. I can do that at home. Take Jeopardy, for example. I'd have no shot. They'd ask something about some pre-historic fish, and I'd sit there with my buzzer in my hand looking like Bill and Ted in history class. Yeah, dude, good question. Maybe I should ask my good friend So Crates. Far out.

There are people around this great country of ours who just don't care how stupid they look. Just as long as they're on TV and they have something to brag to their friends about.

Point in case: Da wife is watching Family Feud, and she is finally starting to believe my theory that they pick the most moronic people that they can find to be contestants so, A) it's entertaining, and B) they don't have to pay out as much.

Tuesday's episode was a perfect example. The challenge is to name the presidents who would look the hottest in a Speedo. After Bill Clinton (the No. 1 answer) and John F. Kennedy (the No. 2 answer), here's the next 45 seconds or so of the show:

Contestant: "Billy Cheney." Host: "Hmmm. I guess Billy is another in a long line of nicknames for Richard. Show me our vice president, Billy Cheney."

Bommmmmmmp.

Next contestant: "I got it. Harriet Tubman." (with the straightest of faces, I might add.) Host: "Where are you from?" Contestant: "Houston." Host: " Do they have to take history in school in Houston? Show me President Harriet Tubman."

Bommmmmmmp.

In the same show, three answers in a row to the topic, "Things kids like to eat most: 'Shepherd's Pie,' 'sandwiches' and 'vegetables' (which the woman pronounced 'vegetebbles')." Also, when asked to name the greatest invention in modern history? "Terlet paper." (That's my favorite.)

So my advice to you is this: If you want to go on a game show, make sure you go to Toys R Us and pick up the home version. Play it 300 or 400 times, and then ask yourself: Do I have what it takes not to look like the world's biggest numb nuts? If the answer is yes, go for it. Shoot for the moon and have a good time.

If the answer is no, stay home and keep yelling the wrong answers to the TV. At least then, only Fideaux will laugh at you.

Top 20 office quotes (No. 18)

January 28, 1997 (after getting a little peeved when he had to change something because of design):
Pete: Were a newspaper, not a (...)ing art gallery.

Are you serious?

Most of you know who know me know my brother-in-law is a lot more famous than I -- or pretty much anyone else I know -- could ever hope to be. He is the lead singer for a heavy-metal band, and the former lead singer for an even bigger heavy-metal group, which has since disbanded, I believe.

Da wife is on the phone with her bro last week, and she tells him how she had VIP passes for the Kenny Chesney concert last Thursday at the N.O. Arena, and how it great it was because she was less than 10 feet from the stage.

His response, "Who in the hell is Kenny Chesney?"

Seriously?

I can appreciate that rock stars are in their own world, do their own thing, and especially heavy-metal artists aren't listening much to the sounds of Nashville. But to not know Kenny Chesney?

That would be something comparable to Kobe Bryant saying, "Who in the hell is Peyton Manning?" Or maybe even, President Bush not knowing who Tom Hanks is. (OK, I guess that's possible.)

And as they finish up on the 45-second convo on country music, big bro says to da wife, "I can't believe you listen to that crap. You really have an f'd up choice in music."

I have only met him about eight or 10 times, and I think he is as cool as hell. Even though I couldn't even imagine trying to keep up with his lifestyle, I'd like to hang out with him for a couple of days sometime. But his style of music isn't my cup of tea. Or cup of latte or kool-aid or anything else you can put in a cup. Even though I'd love to go to one of his concerts just for the experience, I have never been a fan of music that A) the music is too loud to understand the words (although he has one of the most distinct voices I have ever heard that could boom over a small nuclear bomb), and B) most of the words you do understand start with a letter that has two small horizontal lines attached to a longer vertical line.

Just my weekly proof that we all hum to a different tune. Whatever your tune may be might not be in my iPod, but it's fine with me.

Keep rockin.

Top 20 office quotes (No. 19)

Feb. 29, 2008: (referring to the Sports Briefs on page 2)
Keith: "How's your briefs tonight?"

Top 20 office quotes (No. 20)

We'll do one every day I work until we hit No. 1 ...

March 11, 2006:
After DJ tells the desk that he will give them each $1 million if he wins powerball, contingent on them quitting, Sandy says, "I’d quit for less."

Good one, Sherlock

From Jack Curry Jr., our irregular Outdoors contributor for this week's lesson to anyone thinking of taking up biking as a hobby:

"A rear-view mirror, mounted to either the helmet or the bikes handlebars is handy for checking out traffic."

Say what?

Here's another new regular segment I plan to have, inspired by the nightly innuendo passed around the office. I usually try not to go too far, but here, it's a lot easier, right?

I'll just let the reader figure where I am going with these.

Tonight's installment comes from Saints defensive tackle Hollis Thomas, who injured his arm in practice and could be out for the season.

Thomas said: "It was a move, and I was trying to basically dismount from the move."

My question is what was the move and what was he trying to dismount from? Sounds like my two dogs (read Monday's blog if you don't know what that means).

Part two: The headline to a story in today's A-section reads, "Officials welcome three sex offenders"

I can hear it now ...

Official: "Welcome John Q. Rapist and friends. Come on in, little Susie on Oak Street is waiting for you."

Are you kidding me?

Don't call me, I'll call you

Let's just jump right into it: What in the hell would make anyone want to be the person who calls from a bank or credit card company demanding money? You'd have to be one sadistic sicko.

I have to guess that 85 percent of the calls go something like this:

Bank/CC company/Bloodsucker: Hello, Mr. Broke Mortgage Holder, this is Will Steel from the Bloodsucking Mortgage Company, and you are 12 hours late on your payment. We were wondering when we could receive that money?

Broke mortgage holder: Well, I'm a little short this month, and I am working on it.

Bloodsucker: You know your credit can be seriously affected if you don't pay your bills on time, so we need to set something up immediately.

BMH: Well, I understand that, but I don't exactly know when I can pay it. I am doing the best I can.

Bloodsucker: We still need to set a date you can pay it, so your credit won't be affected anymore that it already is.

BMH: Did you listen to anything I just said? I don't exactly know when I can pay it.

Bloodsucker: I can certainly appreciate that, Mr. Broke Mortgage Holder, but we need to have a firm date set up in the computer (because the sheet in front of him/her says so).

BMH: Arrrrggggggghhhhh. (Click.)

REPEAT PROCESS THE NEXT DAY.

Now just who in their right frame of mind would want to make this call approximately 642 times a day? Who? I'll tell you who -- only wackos and the severely intelligence impaired. Only a freak could get their rocks off from trying to squeeze blood out of a turnip (I know, a cliche).

I also am willing to bet that these nutbags get pissed off when the BMH actually says, "Oh, I'm sorry I just forgot. Let me pay you now."

Next time Will Steel calls you and asks you for money, do what my 10-year-old stepson does when a telemarketer (same kind of person, don't get me started) calls. Let the conversation go something like this:

Bloodsucker: Hello, this is Will Steel from the Bloodsucking Mortgage Company, is Mr. Broke Mortgage Holder at home?

BMH (in 10-year-old voice): Yes.

Bloodsucker: May I speak to him?

BMH: No.

Bloodsucker: Excuse me?

BMH: No, you may not speak to him.

Bloodsucker: Could you please put your parents on the phone?

BMH: Can I sing to you first?

Bloodsucker: No, please son, put your parents on the phone.

BMH: I love you, you love me, we're just one big, happy family. La la la la la (in a squeal).

Bloodsucker: (Click.)

(This used to happen at least three or four times a week with telemarketers, and strangely enough, they don't call anymore.)

Now, the bloodsuckers will still call if you wait too long to pay, but I guarantee it will slow the calls down. And besides the fact you'll still owe them the money, mind you, at least when you write the check or click the button online to submit payment, you'll get a nice chuckle to go with it.

Cliche du jour

Just a day after I wrote my top 10 least favorite cliches and phrases, I get a doozy sent to me in the first story I read. We'll just leave the writer's name out of it.

"Two years ago, the Patriots knocked off nationally acclaimed Hoover (Ala.), adding another feather to Curtis’ gaudy cap."

Funny side note: So I tell the desk about it, and desk-mate Liam says, "That's one for Cap Gaudy." (You'd only understand this -- and my question below -- this if you're a native New Orleanian over the age of 25 or 30 who listened to sports talk radio pre-1990 or so.)

My only question is, would their mascot be the Squirrels?

Top 10 most hated phrases/cliches

So being a sports writer -- and for the past eight months, solely a copy editor -- there are phrases which continue to creep up into copy, and I continue to remove them post haste. It seems most of our writers (and I imagine it is the same at every other publication around the globe) forget what they wrote about 30 seconds after they send it in. "It's gone, and I wish it the best," they must think. Or, of course, some are just stubborn, and they like the way it sounds so much they're going to write it, no matter what. And while no cliche is a good cliche, they seem to find their way into copy, even though they rarely make the paper. Gotta give a determined writer an "A" for effort though. They keep trying; we keep striking.

Well, here are the ones I hate most (with a little help from my desk mates):

10. "It looks like ... "

Unless it is a column or an analysis, I don't give a rat's ass what you think something "looks like." Just tell me what happened or what you know is going to happen. Leave the "it looks like" crap to the talking heads who we all know don't know what the hell they're talking about. It looks like you know what you're talking about when you say, "it looks like," but we all know better.

9. "No love lost"
The cliche of all cliches. The premise of this one is that two people don't like each other, then one does something the other doesn't appreciate, and they like each other less. Sure there's no love lost, freakbox, there was none to be had in the first place. Duh. I wonder if using cliches is like being crippled without using a wheelchair or crutches. No love lost. Horse hockey. I have lost plenty of love over people I can't stand. Some, maybe, I even once loved. Not naming names, of course.

8. John Doe "stepped up"
Well no wonder why that little runt was able to slam one home in the waning seconds. They gave the little bastard a step ladder. I might be able to dunk, too, if they put one of those things in front of the goal. ... Ahhh, maybe not.

7. "The sky's the limit"
Most often, this is in a quote, but that doesn't mean the writer has to use it. Why is the sky the limit, anyway? If he's a basketball player, it's not like he has a 20-mile vertical leap. Unless he/she intends to become an airline pilot, the sky is not the limit. Hell, I'd bet you'd never hear an aspiring astronaut say the sky's the limit.

6. Sally Doe "exorcised her demons"
To be honest, I'm not really sure what this is supposed to mean. Does it mean just before she went up to the plate, she got a priest to spray holy water on her bat while she ate two cloves of garlic? If that's what it means, then I'll gladly take this one off the list.

5. "Walk-off home run"
This one has peeved me since ESPN began using it about five or 10 years ago. I believe it was Dan Patrick or Keith Olbermann who was the first to coin the phrase, but it really gets my goat. (LOL, a cliche. So I'm a hypocrite. I asked him, though, and Ol' Billy doesn't like it, either, that little paper-eating hoofed devil.) Why does everything have to be cutsie? We can't just say what it really is anymore: a game-winning homer. No, that's not dramatic enough. It's even worse that print journalists decided to institute the phrase made up by no-clue talking heads, as well. Besides, do teams really walk off when they hit a game-winning home run? The losing team usually mopes off with their heads hanging. The winning team, conversely, hangs around, jumping in unison around the plate as the bashee flips his helmet and jumps in to get mobbed. So, no one really walks off. Therefore, stop saying it. It might be cute, but it's inaccurate and stupid. (Yes, I said stupid.)

4. Anything that "erupted" or "exploded" or "caught fire"
No they didn't, or it would be a much bigger story. When trying to say Team X had 10 consecutive hits or scored 21 straight points, use something else. No one wants to think of his or her favorite player going up in flames. I am not sure if Joe DiMaggio was cremated after he died, but that's really the only way he ever caught fire. Not even during his record 56-game hitting streak did he really catch fire, unless Norma Jeane left the roast in the oven too long, and Joltin Joe had to grab it with those crusty, black pot holders. Although she was a Baker, so who knows?

3. "Went to war"
The boys in Iraq went to war, not the Saints and Falcons. If we're going to use awful analogies, I think it would better if we turned it around the other way. Make war sound like a game. Something like, "Corporal Joe Harris packed his belongings and kissed his wife as he headed to the desert gridiron to quarterback the U.S. Army in its tough tilt against the rival Iraqis. Harris spent all summer preparing, hoping his team wouldn't end up on the losing end with his performance causing him to be trimmed from the roster of life." Sounds kinda dumb, huh? Also, a little trite. So do two teams or people going to war when they're getting ready engage in a contest.

2. Anything that has "Hurricane Katrina" in it

It's three years later. Can we -- for God's sake -- move on, already? I don't want to read about some kid who had to live in a trailer for two years and is just now feeling normal again. I don't want to read about School X, which continues to struggle in the aftermath of HER. I don't want to read about how some kid's parents' FEMA checks have run out and they don't know how they're going to survive. I don't feel sympathy for them. Yay, you picked yourself up 36 months after a tragedy struck. Good for you. That's what you're supposed to do. That's what almost a million other people who lived through it did. What makes you special? I lived it. I am done with it. Don't write it.

1. "Not to mention ..."
Huh? The most ignorant phrase in the history of phrases. Don't say it. Ever. You'll sound like a moron, if you do say it. You'll seem like a moron if you write it. You'll feel like a moron if you think it. Ninety-nine times out of 100, whatever follows, "not to mention," mentions whatever it is that was not supposed to be mentioned. Say, "something that also needs to be mentioned ..." Say, "Joe Blow failed to mention ..." Even say, "It's not really worth mentioning, but ..." Just don't say, you know what. You're welcome. Don't mention it.

Random thought I

So I'm looking for a regular feature, and this sounded as good as any. Besides, da wife says, "Good idea honey. You have plenty of random thoughts." Touche.

Anyway, today's random thought is this: I'm trying to cure my battle of insomnia by watching the Olympics basketball channel. I figure if this doesn't do it, I have no shot except for some sort of severe prescription medication that will be the center of some lawsuit within five years.

I turn it on, and Latvia's women are facing off against the beauties from Belarus. Now, while I have no clue where Latvia is, I am pretty sure Belarus is in Europe, and fairly certain it is near Russia. (I was never good in world geography.)

This, though, has nothing to do with the direction I am headed. After taking a long circle around my random thought, I come to this: Just who picked out the sound for the horn? You know, the signal that there's a timeout or a substitute beauty is entering the game.

In most high school gymnasiums across America -- or college games or the NBA, for that matter, buzzers have a pretty universal sound. It's sort of like one of those annoying horns you might hear in your head. You know, "bommmmmmmmmmmmmp." Well, true, I have a lot of things flying around in my head. "Did I pay the DirecTV bill? I think it's due on the 10th. Oh yeah, I think I paid it. I wonder what's for dinner. I could almost eat right now. I have GOT to get a new battery for this computer. I said I was going to do it today, but now I really don't feel like it. I need to get my eye exam, too."

Sorry for the digression. Hey, I warned you.

Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh yeah, this horn at the Olympics.

So, this horn is completely different from the horns one might hear at an American game. It's like a truly annoying high-pitched squeal that you'd blow in your son's ear after he asks his 16th question in the past 40 seconds. (Not that our son would do that, noooo.)

And I was just wondering if some Chinese dude was trying to be different, or if that's the horn they usually use in China. I mean, this is probably something that would even be hard to Google, and I am almost positive you can't find anything about this on Wikipedia.

Knowing how governing boards work, I also think it's entirely possible that there was a three- or four-hour meeting on the horn. The tail-end of the meeting might have gone something like this:

(Translated into English, of course)

Bing Bong Ho: You know, we have to make everything about these Games special, so that no one ever forgets Beijing.
Ring Hurt Yow: Yes, I think you are right, Bing. We make loud annoying horn so that people's ears will hurt, and they never will forget us.
Bing: Sound good. Let's get some lunch.
Ring: Great. I hear they have good hamburger special at American Palace. I just hope they don't make me use fork. Last time, they were out of chopsticks.

The point is this: When watching the Olympics late at night and you're trying to fall asleep because you can't think of anything more boring, tune to rhythmic gymnastics or rowing or archery. Or if you do decide to doze off to the women's hoops game between Mali and New Zealand, do it with the mute button on.

I think my dog is gay

OK, so the first blog I write in two years is that I think my dog is a homosexual. (I looked it up, a homosexual does not have to be a person. Yes, I was truly bored.) You gotta get started with something, right? What better than a short story about the love two dogs share. Maybe I should just go back and watch Milo & Otis (were they dogs or cats, I can't remember) or something and spare the three or four people who might read this. Nahh, this might get entertaining.

Seriously, though, has a study ever been done on the homosexuality of pets? (I'm not that bored.) If not, and our wise federal government was thinking of doing such a thing, I am here to say it's completely unnecessary. I have the definitive answer.

It is absolutely possible, because my dog is gay. At least I am pretty sure he's gay. And if he's not, I know my sister's dog is way off the deep end.

Now just like there's nothing wrong with people being gay, I have to say although I never thought about it until now, I suppose it's OK between animals, as well. I mean even a dog or a cat needs someone to love in their own species. Think about it, if you were an Australian Shepherd, you'd get tired of licking your owner every day. You'd want someone (something) else to lick every now and then.

I think that must be the case for Reggie Bush. He has taken a fondness to my sister's dog Zeke -- and I mean from the first moment they met a few months ago when Zeke came over on a cool, brisk Sunday afternoon and immediately began the loving process on Reggie Bush.

Too many gory details may be a bit much for the lot of you, but I have to share the events of today.

So it's an uneventful Sunday afternoon, and I am sitting on the couch with my wife watching (what else?) baseball.

She looks up and says, "Do you see this?"

I say, "See what?"

She almost can't get it out because she's laughing hysterically. "Look outside!"

Reggie Bush and Zeke are licking each other in the face, and suddenly, Zeke opens his mouth and takes a little canine tongue from his new half Australian Shepherd, half Chow little friend. After a chuckle (while my wife thinks it's one of the funniest thing she's ever seen), I wasn't sure to be happy for them or a little disturbed.

Then I thought, what's the big deal? Everyone needs somebody to love. Even if he's a dog named Zeke or a mutt named Reggie.

I just hope they don't get too attached and we have to move to California or something.