…we call lamp post over.

And lamp post wins.

You should definitely not fuck with the Chinese lady working the cash at the chinese food place at your food court. Just order, pay your money, and go away as quickly as possible. Do not ask about specials. Do not question her about how much things cost. Do not screw up your order. She will ruin your shit in the loudest, most off-key and pedantic fashion possible. Just eat your melamine chicken and shut the fuck up.

[As a side note, there was a big scandal in China a few months back about milk producers putting melamine into milk to artificially boost the protein content. I thought about this, and the first thing that came to mind was that I have no idea what the Chinese do with their milk. I have gone to a number of Chinese restaurants in my life (granted they are gweilo restaurants) and I have not seen one menu item than contains a milk product. Weird. I guess the Chinese use milk to lubricate engines or something.]

Cleveland Cavaliers centre Ben Wallace on the snub of teammate Mo Williams from the 2009 Eastern Conference All-Star Team:

“It’s a tragedy,” Ben Wallace said. “I think it’s an injustice. It’s a fraud. We’ve got the best record in the league, and we’ve only got one guy going. You always make it the next year, after the year you were supposed to make it. It’s a travesty and a sham and a mockery. It’s a shamockery.”

A tragedy? A baby falling to its death in an empty well is a tragedy (or the culmination of a well-laid trap). Mo Williams not making an all-star team — not so much.

However, I would agree that it is a shamockery. Coincidentally, that’s also the term for making a hammock using a chamois.

(Boardroom at VH1’s head office. A number of executives sit around a table) 

Executive 1: What time do you have?

Executive 2: 11:09.

Executive 1: And you’re sure we said 10:00?

Executive 2: It’s right here in my Blackberry.

Executive 1: Hmm. He must be caught in traffic. You know, you hear so much negative stuff about this guy, but I have to say, I just don’t see it.

Executive 2: Me neither. It just goes to show you, you can’t believe everything you hear.

(Door to boardroom suddenly opens. In walks Terrell Owens and his lawyer)

Executive 1: Terrell! Great to see you!

Owens: How’s it going, boss?

Executive 2: I’ll bet that traffic was a nightmare out there, huh?

Owens: Nope.

Executive 1: Okay then. Well, please have a seat. And Terrell, can I just say one more time how excited we are to welcome you to the VH1 family?

Owens: Hey, likewise.

Executive 1: Great. So, I assume you’ve had a chance to read the agreement?

Lawyer: I have.

Executive 1: Alright. Let’s make this official then, shall we?

Lawyer: Actually, before we sign, we had a few comments.

Executive 1: Of course, of course. Please, go ahead.

Lawyer: First, it says here that the planned shooting schedule is Monday to Friday, from April 1st to the 30th.

Executive 2: That’s correct.

Lawyer: Unfortunately, that’s not going to work.

Executive 1: Okay. Did you have a different schedule in mind?

Lawyer: Terrell doesn’t work Wednesdays.

Executive 1: Um, alright. We can talk about that. But Terrell, you are aware that you won’t actually be working? We’ll just be following you around as you go about your normal day-to-day activities.

Owens: (glances sharply at lawyer)

Lawyer: He doesn’t work Wednesdays.

Executive 1: Alright, we won’t shoot Wednesdays. (makes adjustment to agreement on laptop) Anything else?

Lawyer: Terrell wants to star in a U2 video.

Executive 2: Excuse me?

Owens: Y’all are the music video people, right? So put me in one of the U2 ones.

Executive 1: Terrell, that’s not really…

Owens: “Mysterious Ways”, preferably.

Lawyer: It’s my client’s favourite song.

Executive 2: Terrell, we…we can’t force U2 to put you in a video.

Executive 1: Besides, there already is a video for “Mysterious Ways”. It came out in 1991.

Owens: (closes eyes, rubs temples) Sorry, I’m confused. I thought you guys were serious about being in the T.O. business?

Executive 1: We are.

Owens: Then why am I getting all this negative energy from you?

Executive 1: (looks at Executive 2)

Executive 2: (shaking head) I guess I could make a few calls…

Executive 1: Okay, let me make a note on this…(begins typing on laptop)

Owens: Man, what is going on there?

Executive 1: Excuse me?

Owens: You keep telling things in private to your little friend there.

Executive 1: You mean…my laptop?

Owens: Yeah, him. What are you two planning? Are you trying to shut T.O. out? Because I won’t have that. No sir, not again.

Executive 2: Mr. Owens, he’s just making changes to the agreement as per your requests.

Owens: Oh, “as per my requests”? Well la-dee-da. Listen to this silly little princess over here.

Executive 2: I don’t understand.

Owens: That’s okay, Jack. We’re cool. What you do in your private time is your own business.

Executive 2: What…what I do in my private time?

Owens: I think you know what I mean, Tiny Dancer.

Executive 2: Mr. Owens…are you insinuating that I’m gay?

Owens: All’s I’m saying is that if it talks like a duck…

Executive 1: (stands up) Mr. Owens! I’m sorry, b-but this meeting is over!

Owens: What? Why? Because I outed Mr. Smithers here?

Executive 2: I HAVE A WIFE AND THREE KIDS, PAL!

Lawyer: Sir! I ask you please not to disrespect my client!

Executive 1: Excuse me, sir, but we have been more than respectful to…

Lawyer: Please don’t raise your voice at me, sir!

Executive 1: I’m not raising my voice. I’m simply trying to explain that Mr. Owens here…

Owens: (sniffle)

Executive 1: Mr. Owens? Are you…crying?

Owens: (lip quivering) It’s unfair. It’s really unfair.

Executive 2: What’s unfair?

Owens: (softly) That’s my lawyer, man.

Lawyer: Come here. (hugs Owens)

(Executive 1 and Executive 2 stare at each other in disbelief)

Owens: (head on Lawyer’s shoulder) You’re my lawyer, man. My legal teammate.

Lawyer: I know I am. Let’s get out of here, Terrell. (to executives) Good day to you, gentlemen. (they leave)

Executive 1: What the hell just happened?

Executive 2: I have no idea.

Executive 1: I mean, am I crazy or did…

Executive 2: (looking out window) You’re not going to believe this.

Executive 1: What?

Executive 2: His lawyer is holding a press conference on our front steps.

Executive 1: You’re kidding me! Already?

Executive 2: And now Terrell is shirtless, walking up and down the street on his hands.

Executive 1: Unbelievable!

Executive 2: Make that “completely nude”.

Executive 1: You know, I’m starting to think we really dodged a bullet with this guy.

Executive 2: Boy, you’re not kidding.

Executive 1: So who’s our Plan ‘B’?

Executive 2: (looks at Blackberry) It says here it’s Chad Johnson. Should I get him on the phone?

Executive 1: Do it! You know, you hear so much negative stuff about that guy, but I just don’t see it.

Executive 2: Me neither. It just goes to show you…

____

Image by a future Toronto Bills fan

It happens every year.

March approaches, with its eponymous “Madness”.  Our TVs become taken over by exciting college basketball games (many featuring what I can only imagine are fictional colleges) sandwiched between scintillating promos for The Mentalist.  We, the unwitting observers, are fed a daily diet of talking heads rattling on about “hustle”, “fundamentals”, and “leadership”. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s Jay Bilas, Dick Vitale or Jackie Harvey; they all seem to have the inside goods on what it takes to win the Final Four and what college basketball phenom is going to go first in the NBA draft and become the next Derrick Coleman.

We at Food Court Lunch pay close attention to the prognostications of the experts (at least when the “Ghost Whisperer” isn’t on).  And we’ve come to recognize the one factor that draws the praise of the talking heads more than anything else.  You might call it “gritty determination”.  Or you might call it “caucasian upside”.  But we’re going to go ahead and call it “The Hansbrough Effect”.

You see, college basketball announcers and the writers who cover the sport love to talk about players who are “mature beyond their years”; players “who get it”; players “who play the game the way it’s supposed to be played”.  You might have noticed one key characteristic that all such players seem to possess: if you said “whiteness”, then you’d be correct (and controversial).

That takes us to Tyler Hansbrough.  Hansbrough, as the story goes, is in his senior year with the University of North Carolina Tar Heels.  He swept all of the major individual awards in college basketball in 2008, and he’s expected to go in the first round of the 2009 NBA draft.  Tar Heel games are heavily covered by national media, and a significant amount of print and broadcast time is devoted to loving praise of Hansbrough’s “toughness” and Patton-like leadership qualities.   Without a doubt, he is a great college basketball player.  But let’s be honest: He’ll be to NBA basketball what Rafael Araujo is to NBA basketball.  That is to say, he will suck.

That’s because “gritty determination” means little when you’re playing against guys who can make their testicles slap you in the face when they dunk on you.  The same characteristics that make someone a star in college can make that same person a spectator in the NBA.  But don’t take our word for it: Here’s a list the top twelve ”Hansbrough Effect” players of all time:

12.     Raef Lafrentz

Highly-touted prospect-cum-perennial trade bait, Lafrentz is rumoured to own a series of successful Kia dealerships in the tri-state area.

11.     Greg Ostertag

A hero amongst Kansans, a legend amongst the neckfold fetishistas.

10.     Andrea Bargnani

I know, I know.  He probably doesn’t belong on this list, but I don’t want to jinx this recent 20ppg streak by proclaiming his final arrival.

9.     Nikoloz Tskitishvili

Kebab magnate? Skoda pitchman? Perhaps.  Basketball player? Errrr…..

8.     Big Country Reeves

Greg Ostertag’s twin brother.  He may have shared his brother’s good looks, but lamentably, he wasn’t blessed with the same lightning foot speed.

7.     Rafael Araujo

The single reason why the Raptors have not yet won the NBA Finals.  Rumoured to be Rob Babcock’s illegitimate son.

6.      Kevin Pittsnogle

Am I kicking him whilst he’s down?  Perhaps.  But I just don’t understand how someone could be so entertaining in college and then turn out to be a complete wash in the real world.  On second thought, I know one or two other people like that.

5.     Kevin Love

The jury’s still out, but I’m pretty sure that if I was an NBA GM, “Can lift feet off floor while jumping in upward motion” would be at or near the top of the list of attributes I would look for in draft picks.

4.     J.J. Redick

On the plus side, he has way more time to work on his poetry now.

3.     Eric Montross

My favourite Raptor ever.  Oh, double-zero, where are you when we need you?

2.     Adam Morrison

Sometimes looks aren’t deceiving.

1.     Darko Milicic

Somewhere, Joe Dumars is sitting in his office with the lights down low, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed tight while “My Favourite Mistake” by Sheryl Crow plays gently in the background.

At some point after midnight last evening I made the bold promise to my fellow ”foodcourtlunchers” that I would put up a post of unrivalled brilliance. A post so witty, so insightful, that the internet would actually be suspended in time for a fleeting moment as Man and technology paid homage to the single greatest creation to grace the interwebs since www.hampsterdance.com. Needless to say, I may have (slightly)oversold my post. Particularly since I was (i) drunk at the time of giving this undertaking, (ii) devoid of any creative thought whatsoever, and (iii) just anxious to get Spud, Blue and Butter off my back (figuratively…) so that I could get back to watching Undercover Brother (which, by the way, is a cinematic masterpiece).

In any event, just as I feared that I would be exposed as a fraud I was blessed with the news this morning that defending Australian Open champ Novak Djokovic was forced to drop out of the 2009 competition due to “the heat”. And suddenly it hit me like a surprising wave of unexpected warmth from the earth’s sun during some form of outdoor athletic competition where one would expect to encounter heat on a relatively frequent basis (and would, accordingly, condition themselves to deal with said heat): what better subject matter for the greatest post of all time than the greatest sport of all time?!

Now some of you will claim that tennis is only the second greatest sport of all time, cowering in the shadows of the glorious sport of curling. Perhaps you are correct, you magnificent bastards. But allow me to play devil’s advocate for a moment. Tennis offers spectators more than your average sport. For example, there is an unprecedented level of male “junk” incorporated into the sport. I have always maintained that sports needs more male genitalia, and tennis is the only sport that consistently delivers. And, of course, there are the childish temper tantrums… Yet these are mere sideshows to the true testament of the Sport of Kings: Eastern European women:

Thank you, Tennis Gods, for your glorious Eastern European bounty…

This is a Food Court Lunch public service announcement.

This is a Dream Warrior.

This is a Booty Warrior.

Both are in jail. One will wash his face in your sink. One will brush your teeth with his dick. It’s important to know the difference.

[Thanks to www.byroncrawford.com]

We here at the Food Court Lunch head office are nothing if not devoted to our readers. And anti-French. Also, morbidly obese. But mostly devoted. We begin each day with a single question - “How can we pander to our readers?” Admittedly, with only 7 of you out there, it’s really not that hard. Still, we find that there’s just no such thing as too much pandering (’uberpandering‘ as the Germans call it).

And that, dear friends, is why we diligently track our readership with state-of-the-art demographic analysis. And by “we”, I mean the good folks at Quantcast. And by “diligently”, I mean we just stumbled across it this morning. And by “state-of-the-art”, I mean completely unsubstantiated demographic figures that appear to be pulled out of thin air.

So what does Quantcast tell us about foodcourtlunch.com? See for yourself. In summary, it tells us the following “facts” about our readers:

1. Most of you are between the ages of 18 and 34. In my mind, most of you are at the lower end of this scale, are female, hot, lonely and live within a 2-hour drive of the Greater Toronto Area (please confirm).
2. Most of you are caucasian (which is the white term for “white”) or Hispanic. Frankly, I am disappointed at the lack of “Other” readership - lazy Inuits.
3. 77% of you have never been laid (they dress it up by stating that 77% of you “don’t have any kids”, but we know what that really means). Foodcourtlunch has always been, and will always be, a site BY virgins, FOR virgins.
4. Most of you make less than $30,000 per year. We should note, however, that this stat is largely attributable to our massive popularity among the hobo demographic.
5. We effectively have a 3-way tie for “No College”, “College” and “Grad School”. As this site is directed at the “Failed Pre-School” crowd, we are a little disturbed by the latter two categories. Shouldn’t you folks be reading something a little more high-brow, like www.purple.com ?

In any event, we welcome all of you and embrace your diversity (or lack thereof). However, we do have a bone to pick with you (or for those fancy book-learners among you, “We have an ossein to pluck”). While we pride ourselves on being ranked in the top 280,263 sites listed on the elite Quantcast rankings, we cannot help but feel as though we could do better. For example, if we take a look at the rankings, we find that we have fallen slightly behind our arch-rivals, www.houseofalmonds.com. This is bullshit, people! What do they offer that we do not?! We both offer salted nuts, only ours are free!

But that, my friends, is just the tip of the iceberg. What about those jerkstores over at www.stairservice.com sitting way up at no. 280253? You’re kidding yourself if you don’t think they are laughing themselves to sleep at night, with their smug superiority and their fancy stairs. And if I get one more taunting phone call from those pricks at www.askgramps.org, I am going to lose my shit. Here’s a question for you, Gramps - how does it taste to get e-teabagged by 4 angry bloggers at once? I’ll give you a hint - it’s more salty than savoury, much like the almond bark special at houseofalmonds.com…

In closing, this is a plea to all poor, childless, causasian / Hispanic philosophy majors out there - please tell your friend(s) to visit our site on a frequent basis so that we can finally put “Gramps” in his place (which is a shallow grave*)

 *editors note - having not actually met “Gramps”, who appears to have some sort of line to God based on the questions he answers, the foregoing comments are not endorsed by the authors of this site (notwithstanding the fact that they were written by the authors of this site…) 

We here at Food Court Lunch have strongly-held opinions on the American penal system. Actually, General Tao also has strongly-held opinons on the penile system (too complicated!) and just doesn’t understand how a vagina works at all. With respect to prisons, however, we are huge fans of knee-jerk, dehumanizing and degrading treatment of prisoners. I mean, fuck them. They are in prison. It’s not like they’re ever going to get out of prison and be really fucked up and angry at the way they…. Oh. They will? Hmmm. Didn’t really think that through, did we? Well, who cares? We’re Canadian. The worst crimes we get are moose theft and canoe-jackings. And the occasional murder or rape. Pffft.

It’s Gourmet Spud’s laundry day. That’s right. I subtly called him gay.

Anyway, not really speaking of prisons, Maricopa County (Arizona) Sheriff Joe Arpaio is notable for making prison as unlikeable as possible for inmates. The loss of freedom and constant threat of forced anal penetration just doesn’t cut it anymore. Much like the Jeffersons, he’s moving on up. This is unlike the prison rapists, who move on down…and in. And out. And in. God, that brings me back. Anyway, Arpaio is known for such pleasantness as serving inmates expired food, housing inmates in tents, reinstituting chain gangs, and forcing inmates to wear pink underwear. According to this Fanhouse article, he also severely restricts inmates’ TV channel choices. He generally refuses to let the inmates watch sports, but made an exception in respect of the Arizona Cardinals’ NFC Championship game against the Eagles. The channels Arpaio does allow the inmates to watch are an interesting group:

The county’s 10,000 inmates, including those at Tent City, will be allowed to watch Sunday’s game … an unprecedented move, as Arpaio normally permits them to watch only The Weather Channel, C-SPAN and The Food Network. Arpaio issued the order Friday, yielding to the Valleywide fervor that has surrounded the game.

Jesus Christ. The Weather Channel and C-Span. He had better ban bedsheets from those tents because there are going to be a lot of hangings. But the Food Network? Why the Food Network? I guess he wants the inmates to learn to cook. At least that network doesn’t have anything sexually arousing on it. I mean, Arpaio banned all sexually explicit material, including “Playboy” magazine “after female officers complained that inmates openly masturbated while viewing them, or harassed the officers by comparing their anatomy to the nude photos in the publications.” Well, no such threat from the Food Network. I mean, the prisoners are stuck watching this:

Oh, Giada. Forgot about her. Huh. She’s a bit attractive. Yikes. Well, it can’t be that bad. That’s just a picture. Her show’s probably pretty Amish. Geez. Oh. “Hot eruptions?” Oh, man.

Oh, crap. I forgot about Nigella Lawson. A little thick in the britches, but still. Busty St. Clair probably has a few Phoenix pen pals. And by “pen pals”, I mean prisoners who write her letters on pink underwear using their own cum as ink. If has an American postmark on it, Nigella, just throw it straight in the trash. I can think of two reasons they might like you.  

Oh, Christ. Rachel Ray as well? Well, she might be dangerous if someone put the TV on mute. Oh, very dangerous. Maybe you don’t want it on mute. You combine that video with the corn video you’ve got yourself a special lady.

I guess Joe Arpaio doesn’t actually watch the Food Network. Hell, I’m masturbating while writing this article. Never mind locking me in prison and away from my lonely, private masturbation sessions women. Is there any female host on Food Network that the prisoners wouldn’t rub one out too?

Thank you, Ina Garten. The inmates can replenish their fluids when “The Barefoot Contessa” is on. It gets hot in the desert you know. They’ll be ready to roll again when Paula Deen comes on afterwards.

A critical look at the headlines that shape your world

Obamas Dance, Cuddle at Inaugural Balls; Inaugural Teabag to Follow?

I don’t think Obama fully realized what he was getting into until he was forced to dance awkwardly with his wife on stage in front of the Washington elite.  The celebritization of the American president is now complete.  Oh well, at least some things haven’t changed; after all, Ted Kennedy did pass out into the inaugural punch bowl.

Portland Mayor Admits Relationship with 18-Year-Old: “If Having Anal Sex Counts as a Relationship, Then I Had a Relationship”

Was there ever any question that the 18-year-old was a boytoy?  I mean, come on.  His name is Beau Breedlove. Seriously.

Baby Calls 911 and Gets Dad Arrested; Gets Spanked

The headline is a touch misleading.  The dad let the baby play with the phone, and it unwittingly called 911, which resulted in authorities finding the grow-op that the dad was running out of the house.  I don’t think it’s fair to ascribe fault to the baby.  After all, it was probably drug-addled.

Man Accused of Punching Baby During Carjacking

This story disgusts me and I’m just going to come out and say it: Parents should not be letting babies drive cars.  The risk of carjacking is just too great.

Well, I Never!: Postal Worker Hoarded Thousands of Pieces of Mail

What next? Government workers who take long breaks and don’t give a shit about their jobs?

Doner Kebab Creator Dies; Is Promptly Flattened and Added to Rotating Spit

Seriously though, can somebody please explain where the meat comes from?  And what makes it so delicious at night, yet so frightening during the day?

Yo Quiero Juvenile Detention?: Teen Assaults Mom with Taco

Amateur.  Mom wouldn’t have been calling the cops if he’d used a Gordita(tm).  Because she’d be dead.