Hey fellas. I'm a long time player with a pretty good pro %. 60% or close on average. Down this year on college frankly to 50/50 but I am studious and expect to get that # up. I want to study Pinnacle's lines but could someone explain their vig #'s? They use a four digit number and I don't know what it means. Hope this doesn't look lame but how's work? Thanks.
@Ron Everyone is forgetting Wentz is doing what he's doing in Philly, if he was in Cleveland they'd still be 0-3, his stats would be much worse, and he would be questionable to play this week from getting beat up like the other three qbs have been. Andrew Luck started off just like Wentz and look at him now, no one is talking about him being the next big thing anymore.
Yet again, I will follow Walt's lead for this draft order outside the fact that the Bears land the top pick over the 49ers or Browns, I have more faith in Cutler running into wins before I do with Kessler or Gabbert. Also, there are still some players not in the system such as the Illini DEs, Justin Evans and Malik Hooker at safety. Until they are in I will mock without them.
I've voted only once in my life. I'm sorry, I guess I'm just not cool because I don't "Rock the Vote" like P. Diddy, or whatever his name is nowadays.
It's not that I'm not interested in politics. On the contrary, I watched the election results on Tuesday night. I heavily favor one party, though I won't mention which because I'll get angry e-mails about it (though from my writings, you can probably guess whether I'm elephant or donkey.)
There are three reasons I don't vote:
1. I'm very impatient. I hate standing in lines. The one time I voted, I had to stand in line for 30 minutes. Do you know what I could have done in those 30 minutes? I could have eaten a cheesesteak and cheese fries. I could have devoured multiple cheeseburgers. I could have consumed four Egg McMuffins. NOM NOM NOM NOM.
In all seriousness, I really hate lines. I avoid amusement parks for this reason. And if I'm driving, I'll take the longer route home if it means I don't have to wait in traffic. Maybe it's just me, but I'd rather drive 20 minutes traffic-free than spend 15 minutes not going anywhere.
2. Politicians are a-holes. The reason why things never get done in America is because 99 out of 100 politicians - whether they're Democrat or Republican - care more about their career than actually fixing the problems in this country. If politicians weren't so focused on moving up the food chain and instead spent time addressing issues, America would be a much better place.
Politicians are also stupid. I posted videos of these on my NFL Picks pages, but if you missed them, here is some idiot politician woman who had no idea that Arizona shared a border with Mexico, and here's a clown named Hank Johnson who thinks that Guam is going to tip over because it's getting overpopulated.
How is America possibly going to improve with morons like these making decisions for us?
3. Political ads wear me down. I know I'm not alone in this. Political commercials have been running rampant for months now, each slamming the opposing candidate.
Three really stood out to me. The first was an anti-Patrick Murphy ad where the commercial constantly showed clips of female Skelator look-alike Nancy Pelosi shrieking, "Leeeet's heeeear iiiiit for Paaaaatrick Muurrrrrphy!" I'm going to have nightmares about this for the rest of my life.
Second, one anti-Pat Toomey ad showcased three army soldiers saying stuff like, "The wall street people can keep their bonuses, but veterans don't get any money? I expected the worst in Afghanistan. I expected better from Pat Toomey." This was always followed by a picture of Toomey with a Chinese flag waving in the background. Yes, I'm sure Mr. Toomey loves China and hates American soldiers. Now that he's elected, I'm sure he's going to force everyone in the army to work overseas in Chinese factories for 10 cents an hour.
And third, renowned racist Joe Sestak ran possibly the worst commercial ever. He looked at the camera with his poodle by his side, and said things like, "My dog makes a mess and I have to clean it up. Now, I have to clean up the mess the Republicans made." As Sestak was saying this, he was tossing his poodle's poop into his trash can. Great job, Joe. Dog feces are exactly what I want to see while I'm eating and enjoying a football game.
This got me thinking. If all politicians do is lie about each other in their commercials, why not go to the extreme? Here are three ideas I've come up with for the next round of political ads:
1. A politician should have his people go to a maximum-security prison and find the worst possible convict. Maybe some guy who raped 20 girls, burned down a church and stabbed 10 random dudes. They should sit him in front of a camera and have him say, "I can't vote because I like to rape girls and stab people for fun. But if I could vote, I'd vote for Politician X. He told me he supports racists and murderers hehehehe."
You can't tell me that wouldn't work.
2. Politicial ads always say, "Politician X plans to increase taxes, expand the national deficit and ship jobs overseas." Why not accuse the other side of doing worse things? Like...
"Politician X wants to make the law more lenient on serial rapists. Politician X plans to sign an alliance with Osama bin Laden. Politician X also wants to encourage people to sleep with 10-year-old boys. Say no to Politician X!"
3. The anti-Pat Toomey ad I mentioned was effective because our troops gave their opinion. I say we exaggerate that.
Let's find the biggest dude ever, dress him in army fatigues and give him a bazooka. After that, put up a blue screen of Mars in the background, and have him say, "I'm serving this country by fighting Martians in outer space. I've been fighting these f***ing aliens for years. Politician X doesn't want to fund the military properly, so I'm going to run out of ammo. Once I'm dead, all hope will be lost, and everyone will be anally raped by aliens."
If you don't think this would work, remember, America is a nation run by morons who think islands can tip over. Please don't underestimate our own stupidity.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: Candy Thieves
My Jersey Shore douche bag costume worked pretty well at my Halloween party. Of course, the party was at my house, so everyone had no choice but to compliment me. Ha! (View the pictures by clicking the link; I'm right next to the Asian Bruce Willis. Unfortunately, you can't see the hot girl in the Mario costume next to me. )
The party was on Friday. Two days later, as you may know, was Halloween.
The fact that Halloween was on a Sunday really pissed me off. I just moved into this neighborhood a couple of months ago, so this was my big opportunity to meet milfs and hot chicks taking their younger siblings out to trick-or-treat. However, because Halloween fell on a Sunday, I couldn't answer the door because I was hard at "work" (i.e. watching football games and making fun of fat coaches.)
Because I couldn't answer the door, I dumped all the candy I had - save for my precious Dove Dark Chocolates, of course - into a cardboard box and wrote in all capital letters, "PLEASE DON'T BE A JERK. SAVE SOME CANDY FOR THE OTHER KIDS."
I figured this would work. When I was a kid, I saw a similar box at my neighbor's house filled with Kit-Kats, Snickers bars and Jolly Ranchers. Being mischievous, I planned to take all the candy for myself NOM NOM NOM NOM!!! My mom, however, told me not to. She asked me how I'd feel if someone else took all the candy and there was none left for me. I suddenly imagined myself candy-less. It was a horrifying thought.
Believing that the kids around here were as well-parented as I was, I set out all of my candy at 5 p.m. At 8, right before the Saints-Steelers game, I went outside to check the box. All of the candy was gone.
I didn't think anything of it at first, but when I picked up the box, I heard some laughter from across the street. There were 10 people or so outside on a deck, most of them probably in their early or mid 20s. I overheard one fat girl jubilantly squawk, "All of his candy is gone, hwahwahwahwa!!!"
Wow. Congratulations, you're in your freaking 20s, and yet you steal candy that should be going to little kids. What's next, pilfering UNICEF charity money? Robbing Santa Claus at the mall? Farting on orphans?
I hope you and your cavities rot in hell, Candy Thieves.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: Russian Gypsy Neighbors
I only know one of my neighbors right now. If you face my house, the neighbor to the left is this guy Gene, who's a cool dude. He grilled burgers and hot dogs for my Halloween party, and anyone who does that is considered awesome in my book.
The neighbors on the right? I have no f***ing clue. I'm not even sure who lives there.
My first encounter with these people was back in July when my refrigerator was being delivered from Sears. As I was waiting outside my house, I spotted a bald, husky dude coming out of the house next to mine. I stood up to shake his hand. I asked if he lived there, but he replied with a strong Russian accent, "No, no leeeve heeeerrrre."
About a month later, I was about to have my housewarming party. The day before, I was moving some stuff into my house, when I noticed a hot Russian blonde parked outside of the house next to mine. Sexy time!
I forget what I was carrying in, but I remember it being rather heavy. As I was walking up my steps, she honked her car horn. I looked at her, and then turned around, figuring she was just doing it to signal whomever lived in that house.
As I kept walking up the stairs, she honked again. I looked back, turned back toward my house, and then heard her honk a third time.
The thought occurred that she might be trying to signal me. My dream of finally being sexually abused by a random hot chick in a car was finally going to come true!
Lugging the heavy thing in my hands back down the steps and across my driveway, I eventually made it to her car. Barely able to catch my breath, I looked at her and said "hey."
She had a confused look on her face.
Russian Chick: Vat do you vant from me?
Me: Umm, you weren't honking to get my attention?
Russian Chick: Ha! No, I honk to call man from house.
Me: Oh, so you weren't planning on sexually abusing me? Son of a b***h!
OK, I didn't say that last thing. I just turned around, hung my head and carried the heavy object in my arms back toward my house. Fortunately, my arms didn't fall off.
About a month ago, I stepped outside my house to see what the weather was like. I saw the same husky dude from before and a skinny friend of his exiting the house on the right.
Me: Hey, do you guys live there?
Husky Dude: No, no leeeve heeeerrrre.
Skinny Russian Guy: No no no no no no no.
Who the hell are these people constantly coming in and out of this house? It's like a pack of Russian gypsies bought the place and agreed to share it.
So anyway, it's Thursday evening as I'm writing this. Our trash day is Wednesday, so last night I went out to take my trash can and recycling bin back to my garage. Unfortunately, they were both missing.
I figured there were two possibilities. First, the Candy Thieves stole my trash cans, possibly to dispose of all the candy wrappers. And second, the Russian gypsies took them into their garage by accident, thinking my trash can and recycling bin were theirs.
At 1 p.m. this afternoon, I finally went over to their house. I rang the doorbell, and some old woman I had never seen before answered the door.
Me: Hi, I live next door. I had my trash cans outside yesterday and they were gone. Did you take them inside by accident?
Old Russian Lady: No, no I no live here, no no.
*** Of course, you don't. ***
Me: Well, do you know if my trash cans would be in your garage?
Old Russian Lady: No, no, I no know how to get in garage.
*** WTF? You're staying in this house and don't know how to access the garage? How does that work? ***
Me: So you can't even check?
Old Russian Lady: No, no, come back my 7, 8 o'clock maybe then you can get.
What the hell's going to be different at 7 or 8? Well, whatever.
At 6:30, someone rang my doorbell. I opened the door, and it was the same old Russian lady - and my trash cans were right behind her!
Old Russian Lady: I found trash can. Iz yours?
Me: Yes! They are mine!
Old Russian Lady: So sorry, father-in-law take zem inside, he think trash can belong to us.
First of all, congratulations on learning how to access the garage, Old Russian Lady! And second, I wonder who this enigmatic "Father-In-Law" character is. Is he some regular father-in-law, or is he literally the father IN LAW, i.e. the head of this gypsy cult?
I'm thinking it's the latter, and I'm also beginning to believe that "Father-In-Law" is actually the one who was the mastermind behind my candy theft. Bastard.