Hey! They're Doing Stuff!

Here are a couple of guys from the Nashville Sounds catching a frisbee thingy (technically not a Frisbee because it's not a disk but a ring) before the August 11th game:

Nice catch!
(though you are a baseball player 
and should be able to catch stuff).

Show off.
Just catch the damn thing and be done with it.

 And those bastards hit Sox the Fox!

Mascot down!
MASCOT DOWN!

Hope they're happy. Nothing but a bunch of savages in the league.

And now for a crappy shot of Lars Davis tagging some guy out at home:

OUT! Or Lars just needed a hug.

I must say it's a nice shot of the plate, baseline and the bat, don't you think?

Broncos Open Camp!

Hey! It's the Broncos! And they're doing stuff!

Yeah! Football! Um, practice. The Denver Broncos began training camp today so that means only 42 more days of repetitive practice reports, meaningless games played by faceless players we'll never see again and a whole lot of nothing until football really starts (first game isn't 'til Thursday, September 5th at 630pm vs them stupid Baltimore Ravens). Dammit!

Anyway. Here's some footage from Day 1:

Super Bowl here we come!

Here they are hanging Joe Flacco in effigy.

Quick! Hide! The cops are here for Von Miller's stash!
Wait. That's legal now in this state...
Quick! Hide! The NFL is here for Von Miller's stash!

Okay. You know the drill...Let's go. Broncos. Yada yada yada.

What the Hell Did I Just Watch?

This commercial has been around for a while but is is now in heavy rotation on the ESPNs during their EURO 2012 coverage. Enjoy:

 
The Rehabilitator - SonoSite Hand-Carried Ultrasound for MSK.

Just why this needs mass-advertised stymies the mind.

Now I've see a few commercials in my day. I've seen some damn good ones and I've seen plenty of sh*tty ones too. The Rehabilitator is one of the latter. This is a whole new level of CRAP. Let's break it down: 

Terrible, worthless commercial, but props to the advertising company that sold this concept to SonoSite. Takes some balls to push for this project!

REVENGE of the Urinal Deuce

You might remember our story about some ne'er-do-well who dropped a deuce into a urinal at the stadium back in 2010. It was a touching, heartfelt essay about a boy finding a poop in a urinal and then taking a picture of it. Go read it and come back. Otherwise it would be a lot like going to see Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo without first seeing the original Breakin'. You'll just feel lost and confused. Go on. We'll wait for you...Okay?

Well, back in April, to commemorate something or another, the gang decide to honor the deuce discoverer, our Ponce de Leon of urinal deuces, Marty G, with a framed memory of the moment:

le merde la pissoir

The problem? How to get it printed without being labeled a turd-vert? A vexing issue I thought I solved by sending it to Walgreen's (and not my neighborhood Walgreen's, but one I never use to throw them off the scent, so to speak) in the late PM while I'd pick it up in the early AM. Different shifts. Different people. No poop related conversation. No uncomfortable moments. No problem. Or so I thought as I headed off to the to pick up the pic.

Off to the photo department...Just an anonymous shopper picking up my photo order.

The store was not crowded and I asked for my order. The lady behind the counter, let's call her Mrs. Crabtree...

CAN I HELP YOU! WHAT DO YOU WANT!

...pulled it from the bin, looked at it, looked at me, and she smiled. No. No, no, no! Just ring me up, take my 19 cents, but DON'T say anything about the picture. Please. Please..."That's not real is it?" Mrs. Crabtree asked. I explained the story to her, hella-short version, mentioning that it was dog night, but I did not believe it was a dog related crime, that I did not attempt to smell it and that it looked real to me. That was enough for her. We were friends now. And friends share stories. Friends share poop stories. Horrible, dark poop stories. And here was hers...

No. Please no. No poo stories.

Mrs. C "...you know, one time we had an old guy go into the bathroom here (Walgreen's) and clogged up the toilet with a poop the size of a jar of mayonnaise."

Passing something like this could kill a guy you know.

Me "Um. Yeah. I..." Jar of mayonnaise? Interesting choice of something to compare it to.

Mrs. C "I'm surprised he didn't die because it was that big and hard as a rock."

Me "Um. Yeah. A thing like that could kill a guy." In my mind I was thinking, "hard? Hard?! How did you know it was hard?

Mrs. C "Yeah. My managers came in there and could not believe that old man did that. The toilet was all clogged and there was no way that thing was going down. They were laughing and I told them it wasn't funny. That it could have killed that guy. And they looked at me and you know how shit rolls down hill?"

Me "Um. Yeah?" I don't like anything about this. I don't like where this has come from and I sure don't like where this is going.

Mrs. C "Well they said, 'you gotta get that cleared' so I reached in a grabbed it out of there. And it was hard as a rock. As a rock."

Go ahead and just grab it.

 Me "Wow. That sure would hurt. Um. I glad he didn't die. Thank you. Have a nice day. Goodbye." And bam! I could not get out of there fast enough. Does Walgreen's sell mind bleach?

Sometimes one cannot run from a Walgreen's fast enough.

I don't know if it was all the scat talk working its magic or what, but as I drove off to the ball yard with my, now well earned, gift I could not stop smelling shit. Outside the Walgreen's. Inside my car. I was going crazy. Damn it! I do believe that stupid deuce was trying to exact some sort of revenge on me! Kay-riste! I didn't drop it, I only took a pic of it.  

Well, the gift was presented, and proudly displayed next to Marty's computer. Story over? Nope. Chris J. heard my tale about the mayonnaise jar turd and just had to add his own sordid yarn about a clog he ran across at a bar near the old War Memorial Stadium in Buffalo. This time the offending bomb was the size of my 300mm f4 lens:

It's always a closeup when you pass a telephoto lens.

Chris could not comment on whether the log was 'hard as a rock'. He never touched it (wisely). He just observed a very large brown trout blocking up the crapper in a bar.

I think I can 'hold' it. Yeah. I can 'hold' it.

By now the day is flying by and I am really creeped out. I still am smell shit wherever I go. I don't want any more poo stories. I just want to go home. And it is at home that I discover that I have had dog shit on my shoe the whole day.

Like my shoe, except my shoe was a boot and that stringy thing was not stuck in the poo.

CRAP! I stepped in it while cleaning up dog crap in the morning. I'd been walking around all day dealing with shit pics and hearing shit stories while my boot was smeared in shit shit. SHIT. Goodnight Springton. There will be no encore...

Manning to Broncos? UPDATED

Reports are beginning to percolate that the Broncos are interested in Peyton Manning and that Jacksonville is offering a 2nd and 5th for the Tebus. Fingers crossed here at PengoSports.  

UPDATED - Liars! Seems that every team is going to get Peyton. Dolphins, Redskins and Jets highest on the bullsh*t list. 

UP-UPDATED - Yes. We know how the story ended. Superbowl? Ha. They are still the Broncos. Even without Tebus they will screw it up.

Small Fat Man...Handcuffed Himself to the Goal

While the staff here at PengoSports were a watching exciting English Premier League Tuesday soccer action on Fox Soccer Channel, Everton hosting Manchester City, just before halftime, to our stunned amazement this wonderful bit of weird happened:

From the Guardian (the best newspaper in the world):

8.42pm: There's a break in play at Goodison Park because a small fat man in a baseball cap has sauntered over to Joe Hart's goal and handcuffed himself to the post. It's been a very long day, but I'm pretty sure I'm not hallucinating. He's got his arms either side of the upright with the bracelets round each wrist.

8.44pm: At Goodison Park, the players are standing around looking bemused as lots of stewards and police try to release the bloke who's handcuffed himself to the post, as he tells them all to eff off! Somebody produces a key or bolt-cutters, the cuffs are removed and he's dragged away.

The half finally came, Everton 0 - Man City 0 - Short Fat Man 1.

UPDATED! Everton wins 1-0. Fat man in hat protests a shi*ty airline:

Story at the Daily Mail

And now, for your pleasure, here's another freak in goal:

Real Life Mystery of the Urinal Deuce

What the? On the holiest of the holy, Dog Night at the ball yard, someone goes and drops a bomb into a urinal at the stadium (a big shout out to Marty G., who found the deuce and made the suggestion to photograph it. Urinal deuces can now officially be called Martys.). There are nothing but a bunch of savages in this town.

Hey. What's that in the urinal?
Oh my fuc*in' God!
Someone dropped a deuce in there!

First urinal as you walk in. Don't people have shame any more? Christ! If you are going to do this at least wander to the far end, out of sight of God and all his children, and plop it there. Fuc*in' bastards! I feel violated.