Reebok? Buh bye.

Charlie Wrigley wrote this in the early afternoon:

According to Boston.com, Paul Fireman stepped down as CEO as the company finalized a deal to sell-out to Adidas. The spy vs. spy shenanigans are over. Adidas is the winner!

What does the future hold for all the folks that commute to Canton everyday? Will they become redundant? Duh duh duh… the drama!

If they do sell the building in Canton, I’d like to put a bid in for it. Have you seen the place? It’s sick. They have their own basketball courts and a very nice softball field. It’s huge! I could definitely get comfortable in a place like that.

I’d knock the existing building down though, and build a castle. There would be a drawbridge and a moat and dragons. I would try to declare it a sovereign state to avoid those pesky real estate taxes.

Man that would be great.

Sorry about your unclear future Reebok employees, that sucks. - But hey you can bid on the property too!

In fact, I’ll start the bidding…

2 dollars and a pair of sneakers to the man with the blue tie (me)

Do I hear 3 dollars and an old pair of Reebok tennis shoes???

Going once, going twice…

Sold… to me!

But you guys can come over any time you want if you can make it past the land mines, swim through alligator infested water and scale the castle wall made of Teflon…

I’ll leave the light on for ya!

Mr. Fireman is invited for poker night any time with his 800 million is stands to profit with the sale, unfortunately for him, the rest of the boys play with monopoly money.

2006 Wine Expo

Charlie Wrigley wrote this mid-afternoon:

You probably missed it, but this past weekend was the 2006 Boston Wine Expo.

I try my best to go to these things, so I can wear a suit, get ripped and say the darndest drunkard things. But it’s cute because everyone is formally dressed and the glasses are-a-clinking. It’s a cacophony of glass, gargle and swish.

It’s also cool that you can spit the wine in a big ‘ole bucket, much like a punch drunk pugilist in between rounds. You don’t get woozy from left hooks and right crosses, but from Merlot and Cabs and Gris, oh my!

Is there anything worse that a wine connoisseur?

Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t drink. I’ll drink milk with ice with this cow’s hind quarter if I want!

Mmm, that’s good, or hey that’s really good - are the only acceptable responses with wine. Unless it’s vinegar, at which point - hey this dressing is great! - will suffice.

Here’s a story…

My aunt, a few years ago, was at a nice restaurant on Nantucket. She ordered fish of some species (probably a cod) and she ordered a glass of Chardonnay. To which the waiter responded in the most pretentious tone of tones: “I will bring you a glass of wine, but it will not be Chardonnay.” He then left the table in a huff.

Wow. It’s a fun story, but it saddens me to know there are people like this out there… the same that attend the Wine Expo with any other agenda than getting a buzz on b4 they hit the clube.

Are Women Necessary

Charlie Wrigley wrote this in the wee hours:

That Milton High School father-son duo may be on to something!

Maybe instead of adjusting our school systems to level the playing field we should just get rid of women in Massachusetts altogether. Or at least send them west of 495, there’s plenty of real estate for them to do the gathering.

Think about the upside of this idea.

Men could once again rule the land.

Make business deals with a handshake and a bourbon.

Tell stories suitable for the locker room in the board room.

Cut the commute driving time in half. Not because there would be less traffic, but because the road would be filled with uni-taskers who know where they are going and know the speed limit is more of a suggestion than the rule.

Spit and cuss anywhere they damn well please.

Read Hustler magazine on the train.

Drink Cosmo’s, and other fruity drinks.

Keep the boutique shops, salons and day-spas in business.

Move to the South End.

Acquire a lisp and lose the Boston accent.

Wear Gucci and Prada.

Walk our toy breed dogs around the Common.

Wait, this isn’t working out, why are all the guys flipping to the gay side? Come back ladies! We’ll behave. We’ll listen. I promise!

“What do you mean I have to do the dishes and pick up after myself? Go back to the Berkshires! Ronald never spoke to me like that. I miss Ronald.”

My Back!

Charlie Wrigley wrote this in the late evening:

Did you throw out your back shoveling snow like I did?

Sick and tired of these cold winters?

Do your part to accelerate global warming! We’ll have beautiful weather all year round, and the only foreseeable backlash, are just a few disasters like hurricanes and huge tidal waves! The world is coming to an end soon anyway - but probably not in our lifetime, so fuck it here are some tips that you’re probably already doing, I’m just advising you to do more of it!

Here you go:

-Keep driving your military grade SUV as you already are, but when you’re not driving around, leave the car running.

-Burn coal as a symbol for your love of America instead of hanging a flag! Coal is cheap! Use it instead of electricity! And for heat. And for cooking. Coal is cheap!

-Write your local senator to have the coal burning power plants to step it up a notch. Quit being so lazy union workers! Burn more coal. Coal is cheap!

Backlash, smacklash.

Warmer Ocean? Fine by me, Nantasket beach is way to cold. My feet are so numb from that chilly water; I can’t even feel the syringes I’m stepping on. Oh, and keep polluting with your garbage while we’re on the subject. I’m not sure if it will help global warming but it sure can’t hurt!

Droughts, floods, intense hurricanes… an easy trade-off for sixty degree winters folks. Maybe it’s a little bit harsh, but I think New Englanders might like a little sun-tan weather in these short sunlit comfort food days.

Buzzzz!

Charlie Wrigley wrote this in the early afternoon:

There’s been some buzz in the Boston blogsphere, but I’m not one to start gratuitously linking to other blogs, mostly because I’m an attention whore. Trust me when I tell you there is controversy brewing.

Our little community known as “Boston Web Properties” has come under some wispy scrutiny. Specifically the ‘properties’ bit.

We the writers are therefore the “blogee-tennants” of “Bloger-Lord” Dan Zarella, getting reimbursed for our prose stylings.

Believe half of what you hear. Dan rules with an iron fist to be sure: flexing his very large muscles and cracking the whip when we slack.

But the employee-employer relationship is more one of indentured servant-master or, in some cases a concubine-stern Japanese man relationship.

We write until our fingers hurt, and then write some more doing our best to avoid his wrath.

Me: (in a meek but knowing that someday I’ll inherit the earth voice) Taking a break boss.

Dan: (in a booming James Earl Jones voice) Not until the daily blog is up you don’t!

We get paid and unicorns are real.

Someday we might get paid, but until then we’re just a bunch of bloggers like you with big and delusional aspirations. Everyone relax and have fun.

Dane Cook in Boston

Charlie Wrigley wrote this in the early afternoon:

Here is an announcement that comedian Dane Cook made last week. If you’re a fan, here you go…

“For several months now I have been talking to you about a HUGE secret that I’ve had… and here it is!!! On April 15, 2006 I will be returning to my hometown of Boston, Mass. for one of the most important milestones of my career, I will be performing at the 17,000 seat TD Banknorth Garden as part of my very own HBO Special (that will air at a later date). Book your plane tickets, reserve your hotels, steal an f’in car, because this is going to be a once in a lifetime event that I want all of you to be part of.

You watched me from your living room and made my SNL appearance the highest rated episode of the past two years, now it’s time to be in the same room with me as I perform at one of the most storied venues in America. The tickets to this event are available RIGHT NOW for my fans only by clicking HERE and by entering the password SUFI. As you can imagine, tickets will sell very fast, that’s why I’ve made them available exclusively to you for the first several days.

April 15th. Boston. The ‘Garden’.

I’ll see you at the show.

SUperFInger -

Dane Cook

feel free to check out DaneCook.com for more 411 on this and other cool sh*t”

His act is hilarious.

For a good read on Dane, check out this months copy of Boston Magazine for a great article by up-and-coming writer John Gonzalez.

My Grandpa re-caps the Golden Globes

Charlie Wrigley wrote this in the wee hours:

Grandpa Wrigley here…

There were winners and there were losers, but most importantly Han Solo was wearing an earring.

What the hell is Indy trying to pull? If you want to wear jewelry, that’s fine, pick out a nice shiny pinky ring. Something with sharp edges in case you need to rap a fella on the lip for disrespectin’ a lady.

Don’t any people in Hollywood speak American anymore? British accents, Irish brogues, Aussie speak, Ebonics, Chicano yips and theater lisssspssss… had me craving for a man’s man… hell someone like Bob Hope. He was a talented fella. Hell of a golf swing too. He’s kind of man you’d let take your daughter to the picture show. He’d have her back before nine, you can bet yer bottom. What a gentleman. Unlike that fancy-pants city lawyer she got hitched up with. He moved them away causin’ me never to see my daughter or my grandchildren.

They call a couple of times a year, if they remember. (sigh)

There was lots of homa-sexual stuff nominated this year. Like Will & Grace, Desperate Housewives and some other shit too. Thank God Brokeback Mountain, a real manly picture ‘bout some fuckin’ cowboys was representing the High Life men, throwing a little goddamn testosterone in a room full of crybabies and attention cravers.

All these people winning keep running up onto the stage only to start crying. Like that Oriental cookie from Arli$$. They don’t make programs like Arli$$ anymore that’s for damn sure. But, what the hell are they crying about? They should be happy; the losers should be the ones crying. Come here you, I’ll give you something to cry about! Get in my kitchen and peel some onions! Here’s some tear gas too.

Did I remember to play the number tonight? Tonight, I win. I’ve got a feeling.

Anthony Hopkins won the lifetime achievement award this year. Never cared for the man… dressing up like his mamma goin around slashing sweet girls in the shower and during business hours. That’s no way to run a damn Motel! He ought to be ashamed of himself!

Oooh I wish I could pee like regulars… Grandpa is in a lot of pain.

Joaquin Phoenix looks awfully strange. Wait… Does he have a frog on his head? That boy ‘aint right.

Well here’s Clint Eastwood. A real man. He looks like a million bucks. If I was a few years younger and it was a different time… ahem, I would punch his damn lights out for being so masculine. Yer goddamn right. What’s this? He’s handing an award to a Chinaman!

Well that’s enough for me, I can’t take any more. I’m going to bed.

Hell, not just yet. I’ve made it so far. I want to see if that Cowboy movie wins, besides I’ve gotta finish my prune juice. I ‘aint seen the movie yet, but I just know it’s full of cussin’ and whorin’ and fightin.’

They are about to announce the winner…

Brokeback Mountain!

Yesssssssssssss! Finally a gloriously acted film that made me so emmotional! A movie I’ve seen again and again. I absolutely must open that special bottle of Champagne that I’ve been saving for a special occasion like this!

I have a dream. Or at least I hope to have a dream tonight. It will be about cowboys.

Happy MLK Jr Day!

Charlie Wrigley wrote this mid-morning:

I love Martin Luther the King, and I love Martin Luther King Day! My employer does not love MLK, or MLK day.

I don’t know if my employer is racist, but I’m definitely not, I’m the furthest thing from being a racist.

But maybe the reason that my employer hates MLK is because my employer is a Jew, and Jews hate the blacks.

But I’m not racist; I have no black friends though. I wish I had at least one, and then I could justify my statements if they seem racist. I’m not racist - I have a black friend. I wish.

But I’m here at work anyhow. Drats!

But Happy Martin Luther King Jr. day Boston. And if you’re employer respects MLK and the Civil Rights movement, then enjoy your day off, and be sure to reflect on what the great man did for African Americans and how he bettered this country.

And if you’re black, and would like to be my friend, leave me a comment!

Nicknames are RAD!!! Round 2.

Charlie Wrigley wrote this mid-morning:

Well, it’s just a normal day here in beantown! The weekend is upon us, but sometimes I wished I lived in the city that never sleeps, that’s right the Big Apple. There is just so much to do, and I see the lights are shining bright on Broadway!

Then again, I’m feeling a little frisky and I’ve got a little extra cash maybe I should catch the red eye to Sin City where whatever happens there stays there. It’s okay if Lost Wages (har har har) consumes me and spits me out, because it isn’t too far to La La Land!

Maybe the city of Angels will be good to me?

Who am I kidding; I should be somewhere more working class, like Steeler city you know… Shanghai! I’ll learn a trade, where I can use that knowledge to help rebuild the Big Easy, the home of jazz.

Then after all is said and done, I can come on back home to where I belong, Cream City; and if you don’t think it too obvious already, insert your own Cream jokes here!

52 Degrees

Charlie Wrigley wrote this around lunchtime:

Why is it 52 degrees and sunny out today?

I was twenty minutes late for work, because once I got outside I realized I had to back in to take off my parka. I had to put my mittens back in the closet to keep the moth balls company.

I took off my boots in favor of a pair of sandals.

The snow pants had to go too. And the long Johns.

No need for a scarf today, or my wool hat.

The thick wax layer of Chap Stick had already melted and starting drooling off my chin.

It’s JAN 12!!! It’s almost 60 degrees… Is the world coming to an end???

If it’s not cold, I have almost nothing to complain about. This is not fair Lord. Are you listening to me God? Cut this shit out man.