Here’s What I Know, Volume #13: Stanton arousal, “lit” issues, Mel Gibson comeback, and the need for cold weather

All the fucks that are fit to print.

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Hello there, folks. While the regular writing gigs allow me to distribute opinions far and wide, I do feel the slight urge of restriction when I type. The trigger finger denial. As in, being unable to say certain things in a certain manner. So I come here, and release some hot air.

Shall we dance? Hit the fucking button. Let this bullet round of H.W.I.K. Volume #13 commence! 1,000 words or less, here we go.

  • People say “lit” too much. Like way too much. I know Tony X, the late to the party Blues fan, started this a couple years ago, but can we please kill it? During a conversation that took place in my backseat, a couple women said it ten times in an eight minute ride. TEN! It’s lazy. Get a better word. I’ll file this in the “bruh” category of nonsense.
  • What isn’t lazy? The well-timed usage of the word “fuck”. It can’t be printed on certain news websites or said on AM radio air, but damn it, the word isn’t useless or indicative of a lesser mind. Some of the wisest minds I’ve been around slung this word like it was released from the jaws of Poe, Hemingway, and Franklin. You can’t overuse it, but please feel free to unleash it when needed. Anybody who thinks it’s lazy or inappropriate needs to lighten the fuck up.
  • Uber Driver update: Four months in and I like my job, but there’s one sad confession. St. Louis city is dead as a fucking (see what I mean) door nail when there’s no sporting event downtown. I mean nothing. When the Cardinals were playing, I averaged up to 500 dollars a week. Now, it dips down to 300 dollars. Maybe it is due to the fact that our city is the second most dangerous city in the country. A few of my riders have taken four dollar Uber rides right across downtown because of a fear of getting mugged. I can’t blame them.
  • In case you didn’t notice or couldn’t care less, I’m back on the air. Every Friday WGNU from 6-8 in the evening and every Tuesday at four in the afternoon on 590 The Fan. Slowly, but surely, I am doing what I want to do and getting paid for it. I don’t crack the bank in half with my earnings, but I’m pecking away. It feels good. I worked in hot ass warehouses for close to eight years. Have you worked in a warehouse? It’s far from glamorous and a rough way to make a living. I don’t miss it at all, and every time work without dirt covering my face and soreness in my knees, I smile.
  • This is the first year that the NFL is losing relevance. I don’t hear as much about it as usual and fans are walking away. The recklessness of the league, danger of the game, or the straight outta assholeville workings of Roger Goodell are all fine reasons, but I think it’s just losing excitement. How about those Rams? You can’t tell me Stan Kroenke told Jeff Fisher to tank those games. That team didn’t change that much from last year or the years before. They went from average to pretty good in a short period. Crooked bullshit. No thanks. I haven’t watched a single quarter this year, and I used to watch from noon to sundown.
  • Giancarlo Stanton is a once in a lifetime talent. Marketable superstar and mayor of studville. Do what you have to do in order to get him. If it costs Alex Reyes, so be it. I’ve crossed that bridge. You are giving yourself at least 5-8 extra wins for one player over the next three years. Reward comes with risk. The Cardinals and John Mozeliak must be bold this winter. 

  • The Blues are playing good hockey, but there are some cracks in their facade. Back to back losses have made them a less than white hot shit 13-5-1. However, they are still first in the Western Conference and set up well to finish the month. Their special teams are shit and Jake Allen isn’t an elite goaltender. If they don’t fix these areas, you can kiss the second round of playoffs goodbye.
  • It’s Hot Stove season in the MLB, folks. Remember, don’t believe a fucking thing you hear before it’s a reality. Rumors, sources, and reported statements are like itchy assholes in dry cold weather. If you scratch it, the area will only inflame and get worse.
  • Frank Grillo and Mel Gibson are making a movie together next year, and I have no problem with it. Is Gibson a good person? Probably not. Did he say some demonic shit once upon a time (or back in 2013)? Yes. But he didn’t molest or sexually abuse a 14 year old kid, so let’s keep him out of Spacey-ville. He’s said a lot in his life, paid for it with years of his career lost, but he’s making a comeback. I am all for it. He’s a valuable player in Hollywood, proven by his Hacksaw Ridge Oscar showing. He’s not perfect, but compared to the new shit in Hollywood, he’s far from the worst.
  • How far and fast can one person fall? Look at Louis C.K. A week ago, he had a film set for distribution, HBO deal, FX deal, and a publicist. Today, he has none of those. All for beating off in front of five women, which I am not condoning at all. He had a cup of coffee with the heat and paid the price. BUT…he will work again. He took the hit, fell down, but unlike Spacey and Weinstein, will be back.
  • I interviewed Wheelman director Jeremy Rush today, and among the juicy things discussed over the 30 minute chat, was about the need for original films in today’s cinema landscape. No superheroes, reboots, or remakes. Just proudly made original stories like Wheelman and Martin McDonagh’s Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. Writer/director jobs that feel personal, different, and say something. We need more of those. Stop going for the easy cash, make-believe bastards. Be better.
  • For fucks sake, can we please get COLD weather in the Midwest? The temperatures go down, sneak back up, and then trickle down. This makes the human body feel like absolute dogshit. Make up your mind, mother nature. Give me the cold weather. I like it. I love it. I want some more of it…now. Thanks.

1,100 words. Close enough.

I appreciate the time. Be good.

-DLB

Here’s What I Know, Volume #12: Soccer, NFL-less, and Harvey filth

Live from Courtesy Diner on Kingshighway after a seven hour Uber shift, let’s talk.

~How about that USA soccer team? 

Disclaimer: I care as much about soccer as I do the safe passage of decaf coffee towards my table. Fine sport and all, but there’s only so much time in the world to play with, and soccer just doesn’t do it for me. Perhaps a few garbage fires on the field would help. However, the most casual fan in the world can’t avoid the heartbreak and letdown that occurred Tuesday night when the soccer team failed to qualify for the World Cup. In losing to a team nobody has heard of, the country was embarrassed on a large stage. I drove someone home from a bar that simply couldn’t understand how the country couldn’t find 11 worthy players to win a single game. So much for that.

I woke up today feeling the same way about the team as I did yesterday. Is Landon Donovan still playing?

~What’s happening in the NFL?

I am asking because I clearly have no idea, nor do I want to. I hear the New York Giants are in trouble and the Dallas Cowboys are losing. The Green Bay Packers are winning, but the Patriots aren’t perfect. I really don’t care. 2017 marks the first time I haven’t watched at least a full quarter of football. And I have no regrets about missing the action. It’s an absolutely selfish sport, where the Commissioner clearly has no regard for the players or the fans. Without fantasy football, the sport would be half as relevant. Players are leaving the sport every month. Parents aren’t letting their kids play.

Why? Check out this scenario. “Hey son, you can grow up playing a sport for your entire life, possibly make a little money but probably not, and end up with a deadly brain disease from it for which the NFL will do nothing about.” Think about it.

It is true that Roger Goodell and Jerry Jones gave Stan Kroenke the leash to jam a fleshy tubesnake up the ass of my city and take the Rams from St. Louis-and in a horrible way. But that’s not the real reason I don’t watch the NFL. I just feel nothing for the sport. It gives nothing back and is the biggest hypocrite of all sporting events. Fuck it. Continue reading “Here’s What I Know, Volume #12: Soccer, NFL-less, and Harvey filth”

Here’s What I Know, Volume #11: Night King mood swings; Trump doom settling in; Suit and Jacket greatness

Live from The Princeton Heights Night Watch, I ramble on. In no established order and without fancy flow, let’s talk.

  • We may disagree about who bats fourth in the Cardinals lineup or how greedy the NFL is, but there is no place in life for racism. Bigotry is a fucking disease and we need Marion Cobretti to kill it. The events in Charlottesville and our President’s (mouth vomit) response to those shitty occurrences confirms how fucked we are for the next four years in the White House. Our POTUS has to use twitter to properly connect and instead of shooting down racism, he talked about a winery. Where are you, Michael Douglas?
  • Too bad Al Gore is busy making sequels to An Inconvenient Truth. Trump may get us all killed before global warming does.
  • PSA: If you constantly talk about people attacking your beliefs on social media, you are an ATTENTION whore. A soapbox can only hold the weight of someone’s hurt feelings for so long. Again, you know who you are.
  • Coffee is a true mood boost. I felt like gathered and grounded shit a few minutes ago. A few sips of Great Value (yep, cheap Walmart k-cups) coffee and I feel like I can at least rake some leaves or fold some laundry.

Continue reading “Here’s What I Know, Volume #11: Night King mood swings; Trump doom settling in; Suit and Jacket greatness”

Here’s What I Know, Volume 10: Moving, Lynn, Spidey, beer off tap

A stream of consciousness of all the non important shit in my head

Live from the waiting room at the Princeton Heights, it’s time for another edition of HWIK: everything fit to print inside the head at the moment. No holds barred takes from the Douche Canoe(new name I saw on Twitter).

As I sip cup of coffee #3, let’s get moving.

  • Moving sucks. If I could take a cold nap from the day before to a month after, that would be swell. You find out just how much extra shit you have when you move. Lots of tag along nik nak bullshit. How many books and decorations do you need in life? The answer for me is seven totes. The wife is planning on gutting everything in the house except for breathing entities, so stay tuned for more shrink patient type confessions.
  • Lance Lynn didn’t throw his last pitch on Busch Stadium’s mound Sunday, but let me say this about him: he did a good job. In about 5.5 years of service, he has produced nearly a 14.5 WAR(wins above replacement) for the Cardinals for just under 16 million dollars. That’s a great bargain if the sabs wore you out. He throws old school cheddar, never got the appreciation from the fans, and his post game interviews should open in Friday nights and come with popcorn. While I wanted value for him this week due to his eventual departure, I’ll enjoy watching him pitch a few more times.

Continue reading “Here’s What I Know, Volume 10: Moving, Lynn, Spidey, beer off tap”

Here’s What I Know, Volume #9: RIP Michael Nyqvist, Trump, black coffee, baseball PPV

All the thoughts that are fit to publish.

Live from the hot sauna that is St. Louis in the month of July, a stream of consciousness.

  • A few words about good coffee and friends. Whenever my friend P.J. Nolan comes into town, a coffee shop is our one stop shop. Black coffee-usually strong as an ox-and conversation that ranges from baseball to boxing to living. Easy and simple. As I pass the tender days of 35 years in 2017, my need for excitement can be measured. I don’t need to live the high life or get into a serious amount of trouble. My advice for living long and prospering: find something that engages your mind while putting it at ease, and stick with it.
  • Side note: Sump Coffee is delicious. At the advisement of Jeff Jones-a professional in the hockey world but a fine voice in other lifestyle fronts-I visited the South City coffee joint for a tasty concoction with P.J., and we had a couple pots of coffee. Whether it was an Ethiopian blend or a Columbia kick in the head, the flavor was undeniable. Sump and I had a conversation before, but it had been too long. I will be returning. Sump coffee is so good, I don’t even need a stevia packet. Black and bold like Oprah.
  • Baseball is a real bastard. 162 games. Seven months. There isn’t another sport that pounds you into the ground, demanding all of your patience and nerve endings to endure a contending team’s trek towards the ultimate goal of a championship. One of the hardest things to do is coming up with commentary that doesn’t echo other writers, but also enduring the constant change in a team’s play. The Cardinals are a Frank Sinatra song; flying high one month, shot down the next. What I try to do is not pay attention to what everybody else is writing, and simply reward my readers with a voice they can trust. Control what you can, because anything else would be uncivilized, and quite simply a headache.
  • A few words about radio. It’s a sad but true declaration, but talent alone won’t get you far in this business. Unless you are a name like Frank Cusumano or have the savvy sales skills of a Don Draper, you won’t make it. The easiest part of my job as a radio host the past year is sitting down in front of the microphone and talking. Going door to door, asking business owners to hand over money without a reliable ROI promise, is the hardest part. I’ll never conquer it, and that’s not being down on myself. That’s merely being honest about a tough trade. Before I got into radio, I thought the host put out a good show while others sold the goods. I was very wrong. A great radio show-Game Time A.M.-bit the dust this week, and it had little to do with skill. Organizational structure and a matter of revenue is often the executioner.
  • Speaking of radio and the changing gears of the sportswriting game, Clay Travis wrote a column that struck a chord. He wanted to know what was causing this rapid downtown in the world of sportswriters, and it came down to two things: businesses and corporations value videos over words and won’t pay the writers using their products to promote them. Travis just happens to be replacing Game Time AM at 590 The Fan, but it’s hard to dislike Travis. With a few kids in tow and a need to escape a law degree, Travis tackled the business all alone, and now is one of the most successful stand alone entities out there.

  • Have you seen the Snyder’s Pretzel commercial? If that bitch took my car keys and threw them into the bushes, I’d knock her the fuck out on general principle.

  • I find the best friend women in movies to be hotter than the leading ladies? I’m looking at you Judy Greer and Kathryn Hahn. I treasure the imperfections in women over the ones who attempt to strangle perfection.
  • Carlos Martinez and Max Scherzer is a pitching matchup Don King could sell on a Pay Per View card. Two young men with the need to impose their will on hitters. One a local kid who made it big in The Motor City and bet on himself to receive a 200 million dollar contract. The other a Dominican Republic pitching sensation who is only getting started in the making hitters look silly department. Both are emotional wrecking balls on a pitching mound. And they say baseball is boring. Pay more attention. (Update: Scherzer outdueled Martinez, striking out 12….fuck.)
  • The Blues had a great draft and I don’t understand the need to shit on fans who are excited about it. Doug Armstrong could fuck up a wet dream, but he actually pulled a pair of moves that set his team up for success in the near and far. Let’s feel good about it instead of playing the classic Blues cynic. That’s so tiring. Some people just need to get laid more often.
  • What’s a good beer? Try Logboart Company’s Flybye Ale, a farmhouse ale with a smooth finish and sweet taste that will push you over slowly into the land of buzzing. Farmhouse Ales can be so good if they are produced correctly. Show me a beer with some substance and I’ll pay the extra money.
  • Hey, did you see what happened in the NFL and what the Rams are doing? I have no clue, because I don’t give a shit. Fuck Roger Goodell. Now that I don’t have to talk about it on the radio to play nice and get along, I couldn’t care less.
  • What if this Cardinals team had a healthy Alex Reyes? Bullpen would be a whole lot better and the rotation would have more protection. See you in a year kid.
  • It doesn’t matter if it’s 95 degrees or 10 degrees, I’ll run my 3-4 miles. As long as you are hydrated and conditioned correctly, the workout can take place no matter the weather. Running is the ultimate exercise, because it pushes your whole body to the brink. I’ll take cold weather over hot though.

  • I miss George Carlin. Without him, comedy took a hard hit. He challenged people to think and made them laugh their asses off.
  • Rest in peace Michael Nyqvist. The 56 year old actor lost a fight with cancer, but not before he created signature villains in Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol and more importantly, John Wick. He practically sold the Wick film in one key scene. “I once saw him kill three men with a pencil; a FUCKING pencil.” Rest easy. Fuck you cancer.
  • I’ve applied to become an Uber driver. I want to make more money and do it at my leisure. Here’s to no violent offenders or vomit masters. So I’m trying out the hipster cab vessel company for a spin.

  • Let’s make something clear: it’s okay for two people to write about the same topic on the internet. In the push-shove era of basement bloggers and online scribes, the need to play the shame game on an opposing writer for dishing his take on a topic that someone already touched on is quite weak. Let’s act like adults and open up the litter box. I remember reading Bernie Miklasz a teen before taking a minute to see what I thought about that particular subject. Being inspired is not the same as copying. People are way too fragile these days. There’s enough room at the table.
  • Life has a way of keeping you honest. A few weeks ago, I lost my grandmother, Stella. She was fighting a myriad of health problems, most notably the inability to take a deep breath. She had been fighting this for a long time, and she didn’t throw in the towel, yet finally felt content letting life go. Like my other grandmother, Meme, I didn’t spend enough time with Nana, and regretted that after she passed. You never get enough time. With anybody. Well, maybe Donald Trump, because after five months, we are done with him as POTUS. My point is, stay in touch. Nana was a fighter, and I am glad I picked her up on my son’s fifth birthday, so she could see him hit that number.
  • What’s fucking weird? Saying goodbye to your house of eight years. This is the final week in my Mardel home, aka the Buffa Estate. The closing date is Thursday, and so many memories will finally reach their bookend. It’s like writing that abrupt chapter to the book. Three months ago, we weren’t thinking about moving, and then, suddenly, it happened. Now, it’s nearly at the conclusion, and it’s incredibly hard to not get sentimental. It’s the house where my wife and I found our dream jobs, went through several cars, watched a World Series game in our backyard, and raised our son. Now, a new house and empty slate of memories await. Cue the Beatles.
  • Can I complain about something? Construction crews in front of my street busted a water main TWICE last week. How bad do you have to be at your job to do it twice? In case you missed it in “who gives a shit news, St. Louis variety”, they are installing a greenway on my main street, Wabash/McCausland. A path for bikers and runners to find their way down to the shittiest park in South City, which is also called Francis Slay Park. Otherwise known as WTF would I go there Park. Construction delays remind of Will McAvoy from The Newsroom preaching: “this will be a wonderful city, when they are done building it.”

  • I am t-shirt snob. Whenever I look at shirts these days, I want to know the fabric and how they fit. Since I designed a few for the now defunct Film-Addict, I have gotten picky with what I wear, since this is my daily wardrobe. My go to is 50/25/25 blend. Who cares?
  • Cheers to the @ToastDispatch twitter account, ran by Nick Jr. and Sr., for coming into studio this morning. I haven’t had that much fun on the radio in quite some time. We joked about “Joe Maddon excuses”, “Managing your life like Mike Matheny manages a bullpen”, and engaged in an epic rock-paper-scissor contest.  These are the days where hosting a radio show can be too much fun. Easy going. No egos.
  • Fuck Trump. Every time he attacks the free press, he shits on the history of the mantle he is holding. Journalists have a right to their territory and questions just as much as Captain Dickweed has with putting on a red tie. This may be the low point of Washington D.C.-and it’s not even close. Keeping this guy off Twitter and playing a violin for all the sulking he does is a smart maneuver.

  • According to Joe Maddon, the cause for the Cubs bad play is the announcement from Will Ferrell last week that there’d be no Old School sequel, thus burying the comeback of Vince Vaughn, one of Chicago’s prodigal sons.

What else? Eat healthier, but don’t reach miserable temps to extend your life by a few years. Hydrating is almost as important as sunscreen. Animated films will always make money. Sequels are shit half the time. If you’re going to waste money, do it on a six pack of light beer instead of bad food. 

    That’s all, folks. For the three people who made it to the end, you receive nothing but a warm digital embrace. 

    PS: Can we please stop killing each other? Cool, thanks. In the words of Lumbergh, “that’d be greaaaaatttt.”

    The Weekly Dose: In case you missed it

    Wake up god damn it! Here is what you missed from the past week.

    KSDK

    Gilmore Girls is back and here’s why I am in the mood for some Graham

    David Freese lifted up my family in 2011. Here’s why. 

    Fernandez/Taveras: Harsh lessons learned

    Inside STL

    Tom Hanks five best performances

    Buffa’s Bits #3

    What’s with the Joe Buck hate?

    Interview with Quarry/Banshee Greg Yaitanes

    St Louis Game Time

    Tarasenko has a personality

    Elliott’s return

    There it is! All the doses fit to ship. Come back next week for another weekly dose.

    MLB: Atlanta Braves at Miami Marlins
    Apr 8, 2013; Miami, FL, USA; Miami Marlins starting pitcher Jose Fernandez (16) looks on in the eighth inning against the Atlanta Braves during on opening night at Marlins Park. Mandatory Credit: Steve Mitchell-USA TODAY Sports

     

     

     

     

    Here’s what I know: Volume 2

    Groups of people that suck and a few wise words in no coherent order or fashion.

    Hello. As you attempt to disrobe from the sticky ugly smelly disgusting outfit you wore outside in the Sahara of the Midwest today, I’ll open things up with a few groups of people who shouldn’t be eliminated from life but need an ass kicking.

    Let’s run down a list of things that boggle the fucking mind. The things no one wants to mention or uncoil over because feelings will be hurt or apologies will be in order. In other words, things movie stars can’t say on social media without getting a phone call from their publicist.

    In no coherent listing or order….

    People on Twitter who complain about sub-tweets. Let me catch you up cavemen types who don’t use the social networking platform that I’ve built a career on top of. Sub-tweeting happens when someone gets into an argument with someone directly on Twitter and afterwards they complain to the rest of their following without mentioning said person. Guess what? We all fucking do this. Every day. We do it in real life. Away from computers. Rarely do people tell someone how they really feel. They will wait and complain to others. Stop complaining about, you hypocritical asswipe.

    A word about people at the gym who wear spandex. Rethink it. I know it’s the place where you can be yourself and let your peacock fly but stop it. No one needs to see that. Until you carve the body you need to wear those clothes, leave the spandex at home. In fact, burn that shit with the 1980’s concert t-shirts you still have. Def Leppard will understand. I don’t wear skin tight clothing and I’m in good shape. It doesn’t look good. When you try to dance, your stomach contorts in a way that produces groans. Do that shit at home. Just advice.

    The parental advice crowd. This is always humorous coming from people who don’t have kids. Do the world a favor and never give other parents advice about their kids. Their world is a different place than your own so stop it. 99 % of people who give advice need a lot of it themselves. They want to come back at them and help them so it’s their indirect way of starting the conversation. When someone you don’t know, trust or like attempts to give you advice, stop them. Give them the good fortune of thinking about their own life than others. Or politely request for them to fuck off. Either way. The latter is less characters if it is a text.

    The people who want you to donate 65 hours of time to their TV show of choice but won’t watch the one you recommend. First, watch whatever TV shows you like but understand one thing. When I tell you to watch a TV show, I’ve watched it twice and know you’ll like it. I don’t just recommend anything. I don’t recommend bullshit. I want you to watch something that is different. However, please watch whatever you want. There’s nothing worse than someone telling me to watch The Walking Dead over and over. I tell them, “Watch Kingdom on Audience” and it’s a deal. They are then puzzled and leave the conversation. I asked them to watch less than 30 episodes of something but they want me to watch over 65 episodes of a zombie show. Forget it. Two way street.

    Hey LA Rams owners, associates, and share holders trashing St. Louis five months after taking a football team from my city. Understand this. You won’t win a Super Bowl for years. I am talking 5-10 at least. You won’t catch lightning in a bottle like St. Louis did in 1999-2004. Forget it. There’s dipshits that still smack St. Louis even though they will play football games in 2-3 years in front of a half full stadium. What a crock of shit. STL didn’t shit on LA in 1995 when they got the Rams. It goes to show you how some people on this earth deserve to have a nasty shit filled diaper rubbed across their dry face.

    A word about people who disrespect single parents. What the fuck do you know? Single parents are the true heroes of this world. Sometimes life dishes you a bad hand and things must be dealt with. Life keeps going on while bad things occur. The good people who just want to raise their kids are fucking warriors. The people who slight them or deny them respect can eat a good old toasted six inch sub full of excrement. Yeah, it happens so don’t ask who unless you have 45 fingers.

    Well, that’s enough of that.

    Here’s what I know this week. Sometimes, you just need to go to sleep. Nothing worth happening will go down that can’t be recapped when you wake up. Sleep is underrated.

    Call your fucking parents. If you have one left, call him or her. If you have two and hold a grudge, call them. If you they don’t care about you, then call the one friend who resembles family.

    Speaking of friends, don’t hold it against them if they don’t text or call for a few weeks or month. Life happens. A lot. There are times where 24 hour sets sprint by someone and they don’t think about their friends. It’s not always personal. It’s just part of the hustle. I have good friends I don’t speak with for weeks and then we do and it’s like no time has passed. Good friends aren’t people who constantly stay in contact; They are the ones who will be there when you need them.

    Life is a challenging, damaging, and ultimately rewarding test of endurance. A true experience. As the Big Austrian once said, stick around. Next week, my family is once again making a bold choice for the greater good and it’s not going to be easy. You’ll find that few things in life are worth chasing down that don’t involve a little hardship.

    The dark and funny thing about life is that when you least expect it, something you love dearly will be gone. Whether it’s a friend you know that loses someone or an old friend of yours who passes, it’s a gut punch.

    One good pint of beer is better than three okay pints.

    One good shot of whiskey is better than three fingers of watered down whiskey.

    copywriting-immobiliare

    A good cup of coffee can not be beat. 

    I love what I do and I’m only getting started.

    Thanks for reading and so long for just a little bit.