Friday, July 25, 2008

LiveBlogging the MilF

4:49 - Hey! I see on Twitter there's a party at Paul Demko's house!

Holly out!

4:44 - So. Effing. Bored. This is like sitting through a press conference.

4:36 - Question: What do you call John McCain on the golf course?

Answer: Frankenstein! Get it? Because his arms are all stiff and dorky?

Pwn3ed again! I'm fierce!

4:31 - Oh, I get it, now. You guys are mean.

4:30 - I just read where Michele Bachmann did a speech about oil - on a radio station sponsored by an oil company.

Pwn3d!

4:19 - Karl Bremer wrote asking if Foot "has taken a wide stance" on the fifteenth "T".

I don't get it.

4:16 - Mr. Foot says the Fifteenth "Hole" is a hole that "sucks your balls". Finally, some knowledge.

4:19 - Weezect from Stillwater texted me; he says "on fourteen" means they're on the fourteenth "hole". That's just not true. Fourteen. Fourteen words. White males. Racism and sexism.

Get a grip.

4:15 - Mr. Bannion says they're "on fourteen". This is White Male Golf Code for "We Hate Women And Black People", and is a reference to "The Fourteen Words" of white supremacist literature.

3:59 - I get up and start wandering back toward the group with the tournament. I can year someone yelling about Bret Farv. Well, whoop di do. I read a report from the Committee for References About Sports that said Farv is better than Michael Jordan.

Oh, snap.

3:51 - No, Al Franken. Golf balls.

3:49 - Well, that is sucks. It wasn't a blinding flash of epiphany. I got hit in the head by one of the Nihilist's balls.

3:47 - Owwies. My head.

3:46 - It is Nihilist in Golf Pants. I'm sorry, Dadders, you were right - there is a hell!

3:45 - I look up. I never figured Tina Brown would look like Nihilist in Golf Pants.

3:44 - Huh? The light? I see the light...it must be...Tina Brown descending from the skies to take me to New York and find me a way cool pad under the Brooklyn Bridge, to bring my fierce snarkz to the Big Apple, baby!

Come and take me away, Tina!

3:38 - It's the editor of Minneapolis/Saint Paul! And the editor of New Yorker! And the editor of Rolling Stone! They're arguing - about who wants me more!

Hahahaha! I'm outta here, bitchez! Kiss my pilates-licious ass goodbye!

See that, Steve Perry? I'm on my way to New York! Buh-byes, widdle fella! Erik Black was right - you are George Soros' byotches!

3:37 - I've had a blinding flash of epiphany.

3:27 - I leave the white boys to their little game. I climb atop the nearest hill and sit, like Sylvia Plath must have, looking up at the same blue sky that hovers above all the bogus no-talent hacks out there doing the jobs that are rightfully mine. I ponder the unfairness of it all.

Sometimes I'm afraid. Petrified. Wondering how I can make it, with this career suicide? And I spent oh, so many nights, wondering where I had gone wrong. But it made me strong. And I learned how to get along.

So now I'm here, covering White Boyz. All their obnoxious rituals, their habits, and their toys. Aren't they the ones that touched our bodies with their laws? That's what they does - and it makes me strong, because...

...I will survive. I will survive! As long as I know how to write, I know I'll be alive!

Damn. I'm good. I'd hire me!

3:13 - This is just obnoxious. A girl works hard for years, writing about awful band gigs at claustrophobic bars clogged with obnoxious frat boys and punk wannabees, and Minneapolis/Saint Paul hires...what? James Lileks? Brian Lambert? Hel-lo, is it white in there?

2:47 - A lone woman struck a blow for equality against the oppressive male running dogs...



At least, that's how Steve Perry told me to write it.


2:30 - I'm sorry - I sort of lost track. I was reading Britt Robson's piece in the Minnesota Independent on how Tim Pawlenty destroyed the economy. I'm thinking about what next year's tournament is going to be like, with all these middle-aged, middle-class white guys swatting at golf balls with bundles of food stamps!

Mwahahahaha!

2:00 - Sorry. I lost count of holes. Whoop di do. The guys are all gathered around the beer cart, ordering cruddy beer (Miller Lite for $5) from a cutesy little tart. They're standing around and talking with her.

Bitch.

1:47 - A "Dan Stover" - never heard of him - texted me and said the "moose" was a deer, and furthermore if I turn around I won't be lost, since I'm only ten feet into the woods, off the "Ruff".
1:43 - It's kinda fun being in the woods. There's a moose here and it looks so stupid, like a gimpy dwarf moose. Hey, moosey-moose!

1:41 - I'm sorry! Everyone! I'm sorrrrrrry!

1:39 - Joe Bodell is not actually with me. Buzzkill!

1:38 - Joe Bodell calls to tell me that he has a GPS. He'll help. Happy happy!

1:35 - Guys? I'm lost. In the woods.

1:34 - Hey - where are the rest of the MilF guys?

1:32 - Look! Steve Sarvi is following me in Twitter!

1:28 - Bob Collins writes to tell me that according to his keen bloggy intellect, it's really "Rich Schlutta", "Learned Foot" and "The Notorious BAD". But I'll believe Joe, because he has a code of ethics. Ha to the ha, suckaz!

1:26 - Joe Bodell writes to tell me that the guys in the picture are Andy Aplikowsky, Joe "Learned Foot" Tucci and "Northern Allianz Wannabee".

1:20 - through the miracle of digital photogz, I got this pic:


Like, I don't even know who's who. I'm gonna guess "whitebread", "whitefish" and "white toast".
1:16 - This is more fun than watching Anna Pratt paint Paul Demko's toes!

No, fo' realz!

1:08 - Wow. The guys are really moving along now. On the green in two, one or two puts, and we're on our way! This is going faster than I thought.

12:54 - I'm told the kid behind me has muscular dystrophy. That has to be, like, a lie, since according to a report from the Association of Maoist Dentists, they all died once Pawbushy's tax cuts went into effect. Hah. Suckers.

12:53 - Gawd, this is funny. There's this kid in the group behind us who's, like, totally drooling and shaking like he's some kind of gimp who totally ODed on ecstasy, just like my roommate Nirvannah did back at Saint Olaf.

12:44 - Steve Perry asked me "Tell me what Learned Foot's swing is like?" It starts in the back, and, doyyy, moves to the front.

12:34 - Don't you people realize I have reservations at Chino tonight?

12:28 - Things seem to be held up as John LaPlante sizes up every possible angle for his first putt.

12:24 - Finally. The final team. Finally some color! Learned Foot looks Latino. Looks like the guy who landscapes dadders' lawn, come to think of it. Hahahah. Como estas, Senor Fut? Se, Tu Puedes hitto el ballo! Psych!

Next is a fellow named Bill Notrosky. Never heard of him.

And - finally, a guy who looks like a genuine caring liberal! Thought I'd never see the day!

12:22 - Can you believe it? No fucking limes!

12:20 - Finally, some familar faces. Jeff Fecke, columnist emeritus from the Mindy, Spotty from Cucking Stool are up next. I didn't see their swing; I was trying to get the beer woman to bring me a Corona. The bitch got no lime.

12:16 - Cameron "King" Bannion (tip of the preserved-daisy-clad fedora to Joe Bodell for getting the name for me - hugs and kissies!) is teeing off now. Good swing, but he doesn't know jack about economics. Jeff Fecke says so.

Now Ed Morrissey of Vent is hitting the ball.

And another

And another.

And another.

I don't get it; they're all on the "fare way", but he just keeps hitting more of the.

12:12: A couple of other guys teed off, but I was having an argument with the waiter about the labor theory of value. He was trying to tell me what it meant, but I have the Wikipedia article on the subject right here. You are my bee-YATCH, Juan!

12:08: A guy named "Night Rider" is teeing off now. Karl Bremer tells me it's a Klu Klux Klan reference. Karl's never lied to me before.

He's followed by Leo. Hey, I'm a Leo! Not! As if!

I think they both got base hits.

12:05: As I sit here bored out of my sku-hu-hu-hull, I'm reading up some information about "Golf". According to the Association for Sports Statistics, Valleywood is rated "one step above miniature golf". And yet these guys - big brawney strapping white middle class guys all of them - are acting like it's DIFFICULT.

12:00 I got here after driving through the suburbs, which, according to the Center for Extreme Analysis of Mortgage Perecentage Index Evolution are going to be 99% forelosed in the next few years, and I'm envisioning all the walls KA BLAMMO caving in, and I'm picturing all the Masters of the Universe who used to own them sitting in homeless shelters and thinking "ha ha!", because back at Saint Olaf you were "too good" for some of the non-Barbie-Doll women, who today are strong, independent women who are one career slump away from working for Rolling Stone, baby!

Which white guys are teeing off first?

At 12PM, it's John LaPlante and Troy Johnson. John wrote something about tax policy in his blog a while ago, and it was like "hel-lo, 1986 called and wants its theories back".

One of them hit the ball, and then the other one did. Whoop di do.

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