What's App'ening?

Talking and texting are such a bore
I got my phone strictly for the app store.
Games and weather and maps and more
Gone are the days of landlines yore.

At first it was a couple, just a few
But then I got one that kept track of my brews
Named Last Call, it plotted your buzz
And offered local lawyers to help you out with the fuzz.

Then there was golf, well Super Stickman
Which is great for killing time, no matter the span.
Course after course, you can sit and play
It gets even better, for this one you don't pay.

You can challenge friends at finding words
And spend hours on the popular Angry Birds.
Check scores from the couch without leaving your seat
To see it's the Rays the Tigers have beat.

But by far my favorite is Words with Friends
Like Scrabble, but better, this game transcends
Double words, triple letters is where you make your mark
Points upon points for words like disembark.

So hang up that call, and ignore that text
Don't go work out, don't give your muscles a flex
Sit back and enjoy all the wonderful apps
And if you are feeling lucky - challenge me, perhaps.

Haiku Monday

Animal Kingdom
The church, the punch and the Dean
All Derby winners.

You can't tell who won
So you stand and wait forever
The longshot runs first.

Sporting navy blue
P.U.B. runs small but strong
A May tradition.

A crawl detour
to The Boardroom leads to the
worst dirty girl scout.

80 degrees when
I order some new flip flops
Then it snows, fuck me.

I paid twenty-five
bucks for Delta to lose my
bag. Not a good deal.

My World Series bets
are all playing like dog shit
3 teams dead to me.

Derby

The trip always starts with a simple phone call
Hi Tim, we're on our way, going to have a ball.
He asks who we like, what's the plan, how much for a drink
Don't know yet, booze and bets, about 8 bucks I think.

We arrive at the hotel, and all get checked in
And wonder if our dinner will include any twins.
Or preggos, since that seems to be our M.O.
Leave Hooters and hit up 4th Street like whoa.

Stumble home at 3 and try for some shut eye
Who pissed in my suitcase, oh yeah, that guy.
Fail to make waffles down in the lobby
Then head to the Church, our new favorite hobby.

Down some beers, crack some jokes and catch a ride
Dropped at the gate, where's our horse racing guide?
Infield bound, flush with cash, it's time to get down
Pick 6's, exactas, the first leg of the triple crown.

Wins offset losses, but not juleps of mint
Another race starts, to see a horse you must squint.
Ripped up tickets for the losers, garland roses for the winner
A long walk back to the car before a hearty KFC dinner.

Sun burned and drunk, we head back to the room
The NBA is on, some team's getting the broom.
Wake up early, survey the damage, always a slaughter
One last tradition, a stop at Wendy's in Coldwater.

Closing Doors

The Sahara is closing after nearly 70 years
To some jeers and sneers, but mostly cheers
70 years of slot machines and the Rat Pack
And even that dumb side bet on the tables of blackjack.

One of the originals, way down on the north end
Without much one would recommend
But it did have a roller coaster right out front
The no one ever rode, surely a failed stunt.

An early trip took us to their all you can eat buffet
Sadly I never had a chance to hit the Nascar Cafe
But I did play a ton of dollar twenty-one
And drank. And drank. And drank a ton.

Now that end of the strip is starting to go bare
All that remain are The Strat, Circus Circus and the Rivier-a
Will they implode it and build something new?
I bid the Sahara a hearty adieu.

Where have you gone Tara Reid?

Before there was Paris, or Lindsay or Heidi
Before Teen Mom and that trainwreck Britney
Before there was tape of Kim doing the deed
There was you, the original, Tara Reid.

Botched lipo and boob jobs
Your ego swelled and throbbed
From starring in Lebowski and Pie
To attending events with Tom Brady, black tie

But it didn't last, you fell hard
Now you can't even find a commercial to star
Memories of Taradise seem so long ago
You can't even get a guest spot on a friend's show

So you sit back and watch all your old party friends
And wish you were the one in front of the lens
You paved the way for sluttiness and greed
An original, the first, my favorite, Tara Reid.

Friday Haiku

I can't freaking wait
to get to Florida for
Eighty-five degrees.

CFA and sun
What more can one ask for?
When it is cold out.

Never used to like
the swamp and stickiness of
Florida. Now? Love.

Hoke-a-Mania

No, no, God no
Is what immediately ran through my head
This move sucks, it blows
Tell me it's not true, I pled.

No Miles, No Harbaugh, but someone named Hoke?
From the Mountain West, a high school league
Surely David Brandon is playing a joke
He'll hire a real coach after all of this intrigue.

But alas, it's true, the big man comes east
I fear the headlines now, what a choke
Not just on dinners, but hopefully the Big Ten he'll feast.
I never thought Michigan would be coached by Brady Hoke.

Bring on, The Hat?

Wait. What? Jimmy isn't on his way?
Brandon waited all this time, had a huge delay
Fired Rich and was certain to bring home number 4
To usher in some titles, and send losing out the door.

But of course, it got fouled up
Harbaugh's gone to the pros leaving us with some schlub
Who looks like Fred Flintstone and coaches in San Diego
If only there was some other link to past glory and Bo

Oh, but there is, but he comes with issues.
After botching timeouts, he leaves fans holding tissues.
But he can recruit and he hates State
And his past teams have been good to great

So despite his penchant for chewing grass
Oversigning players and treating them like ass
He's better than Hoke, he's got the stats
Bring on Les Miles, bring on The Hat.

(God, I hope this is the last of these I do.)

Bring on Jimmy

Rarely does one game sum up 3 years
A performance so bad, it required many beers.
No defense, a sputtering offense, missing a field goal
Add it all up and it's an embarrassing loss in the Gator Bowl.
Coming in I was hopeful, a win would right the ship
Save Rich's job, let Denard take us on a wonderful trip.
But now, I've had it, I've never been this low
Given chance after chance, but it's obvious that Rich really blows.
So, bring on the man from Stanford, his name is Jim Harbaugh
and let him rip through the Big Ten like a finely tuned chainsaw.