This past year proved to be one of the best years for movies in recent memory. Of the Best Picture nominees I’ve seen, almost all could, in any other year, make a strong case for being the front-runner. This was also a year with so many incredible acting performances that Oscar stalwart Tom Hanks didn’t even get nominated for his devastating role in Captain Phillips.
There are days in which I feel like Jerry Seinfeld. There are days in which I feel like George Costanza.
Today, a battle with Ticketmaster had all the makings of a Costanza moment (irritation leading to frustration culminating in indignation), but fortunately ended more Seinfeldian (total bemusement while enjoying the absurdity of life).
It started when Ticketmaster appeared to mess up a recent ticket order to see Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.
(Note: This originally appeared at TheNerdyBomb website and is reprinted here with permission. Also, you should read TheNerdyBomb daily. Thanks!)
I am a Terminator.
More accurately, I am part-Terminator.
OK, most accurately, I am part-Robocop, given that I’m less of a from-the-future cyborg assassin and more of a his-body-is-broken-so-let’s-replace-him-with-parts type of guy, but since I’m the one writing this, and since I prefer Terminators, I’m going with that, particular the T-2 type. Continue reading
More than any other professional sports league, the NFL has the most success with parity, with playoff teams switching out year after year and at least one “worst to first” story every season. Despite this, though, it definitely seems some franchises are better at, well, everything than others.
This could be due to many factors: front-office know-how, solid coaching, All-Pro players. Or, more likely, it could just be which teams have pleased the Football Gods.
So, Cory Graham and I give this list to you:
The Most Godforsaken Franchises in the NFL
32. New England Patriots
Kevin: Historically, they’ve not been overly blessed, but this decade-plus string of dominance is beyond impressive. They’ve basically become the Yankees and Lakers of the NFL, and that sound you heard was Bill Simmons dying a little.
About a month ago, I was at a comic book show in Cincinnati, when I overheard Batgirl talk about needing writers for a nerd-themed website.
I woke up this morning, my 38th birthday, thinking about the things I miss, the things I want, the things I’ll never have again. Birthdays are, by their very nature, perhaps the most selfish of days, and I not only embraced the selfishness, I wallowed in it.
A text message from a friend changed that.
Her scar stretches across her skull, from one ear to the other, hidden at first behind a scarf, later by her hair, kept short partly for style, partly as a reminder. But it’s there, it’s always there, a faded smile left behind on her skin from the hands of doctors (or, if you prefer, the hand of God). The scar tells us to live and to love, to be patient and forgive, to pray and be thankful.
And so, I need to tell you about that scar.