notes from
the MUCK . . .

How does your garden grow? With muck, muck and more muck! I spent much of today finishing the final muck box and then shifting muck from one box to the next. The first box, which the Big Lad is enthusiastically pointing out, has been rotting down for two years now and once we’d removed the top quarter of unrotted material, we found we’d hit the pay dirt.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

U S A !!!!

Show 'em whatcha got!!!

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Man vs. Beast, Round 2

No, this post is not about Rasheed Wallace.

What's even more impressive than shooting an insanely large pig for three hours? Try wrestling a leopard in your underwear.
A man clad only in underwear and a T-shirt wrestled a wild leopard to the floor and pinned it for 20 minutes after the cat leapt through a window of his home and hopped into bed with his sleeping family.

The best part of this story?
[Arthur] Du Mosch's pet cat was in the bed with him at the time, along with his young daughter who had been frightened by a mosquito in her own room.
Kids, take heed: This is the kind of shit that happens when you wake up your parents because you're afraid of a mosquito in your room. Or a fly. You get in their bed, nobody can sleep, everyone's uncomfortable because it's too damned crowded and you wiggle around too much and then -- BAM! -- next thing you know a fucking leopard jumps in through the window and dad has to wrestle it to the floor in his underwear.

Cleo, I'm talking to you. The next time a bug wakes you up in the middle of the night, do us all a big favor and just go back to sleep.

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All Tied Up

Wow, what a game! I really didn't expect this to be that close of a series, but I've been pleasantly surprised by how mediocre the Cavs are making the Pistons look. In fact, in both of the Cavs losses, they've had a shot to tie or win at the end of the game. In Game 1, Donyell Marshall missed a wide open three for the win and in Game 2, LeBron had a shot for the tie before Rip Hamilton went all kung fu on him, and got away with about six fouls (but I'm not bitter). On the other hand, in the two games the Pistons have lost, they've had to resort to fouling Cleveland at the end of the games trying to catch up. Tonight Charles Barkley was saying that Cleveland has outplayed Detroit in all four games so far, and while I wouldn't go quite that far, there's some truth to that. If LeBron keeps playing the way he has the last two games this could be very interesting.

But no matter what happens in the rest of the series, I don't think Detroit can consider itself to be the clearly superior team any longer. The Cavs have showed this series that they are right there with the Pistons in terms of ability. And how about that rookie Daniel Gibson? That little dude has no fear.

My two favorite moments tonight both involved 'Sheed throwing articles of clothing in disgust. First he picked up a monumentally stupid technical foul in the 4th quarter for flinging his headband to the floor in disgust. Then this, as he walked back to the locker room after the loss (watch the poor sap who catches 'Sheed's nasty sweaty Jersey right in the face):

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Tuesday, May 29, 2007

If You're Not Listening to MC 900 Ft. Jesus

then you're probably kind of a dick. But the good news is, you can start now with this handy dandy little internet jukebox thing:

I fully expect this awesome toy to breathe new life into this once-vibrant blog.

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Monday, May 28, 2007

We Interrupt Your ECF Blogging

to bring you the story of an 11-year old boy who killed a one thousand pound hog in - where else? - Alabama.
Jamison, who killed his first deer at age 5, was hunting with father Mike Stone and two guides in east Alabama on May 3 when he bagged Monster Pig. He said he shot the huge animal eight times with a .50-caliber revolver and chased it for three hours through hilly woods before finishing it off with a point-blank shot.
Fucked. Up.
"It feels really good," Jamison said in a telephone interview with The Associated Press. "It's a good accomplishment. I probably won't ever kill anything else that big."
Well, not with that attitude you won't, Mister.
Mike Stone is having sausage made from the rest of the animal. "We'll probably get 500 to 700 pounds," he said.
That's a lot of sausage.

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I wanted to post a picture of that sick dunk that LeBron threw down in 'Sheeds face to break the 68-68 tie in the 4th quarter, but fortunately for Ben I couldn't find one. So I'll have to settle for this:

If the Cavs win Game 4 on Tuesday, they've got a real shot at winning the series. Detroit has looked beatable in every one of these games so far and could easily be down 3-0 right now.

Update: Ahh, here's the one I was looking for:

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Friday, May 25, 2007

Ball Don't Lie

Can't touch 'Sheed. You want controversy, you want the Sheed, and just look at the Cleveland coach's impression of the Incredible Hulk.

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Thursday, May 24, 2007

LOST Finale

That was really really good.

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Tuesday, May 22, 2007


If you click below, can you hear music?

The Blood ArmAngela


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What Did We Learn Tonight?

We learned that the Pistons can play entirely lazy, sloppy, uninspired basketball and still beat the Cavaliers by three points. Everybody keeps saying the Pistons are mailing it in because they don't fear Cleveland, and tonight it was easy to see why. These two are possibly the least intense basketball teams in the NBA. Seriously, except for Rip Hamilton and Zydrunas Ilgauskas, I kept expecting the rest of the players to lie down for a little nap. Lord knows the game almost put me to sleep.

Prediction: Whichever one of these teams wins this series (and I'm 95% certain that will be the Pistons) they are going to get destroyed by the Spurs, who actually seem to care about winning.

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Saturday, May 19, 2007

Velvet Cheney

Since the resounding winner of this poll was "Velvet Sweatsuit," I thought as a public service I'd provide the only known picture of Dick Cheney wearing said sweatsuit.

You're welcome.

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With no consultation with my co-bloggers, I'm calling this a sports blog for a limited time only. Matthew's beloved Cleavland Cavaliers will battle my glorious Detroit Pistons for the Eastern Conference Championship and the chance to play for N.B.A. Championship rings. You may wonder why I support Detroit; I spent some time in Michigan and saw a few games. We lost them all but by the final game, a bitter overtime defeat to the then all conquering Lakers, I felt the rage. I knew that I would not be able to leave this team in the U.S., that I would look for their scores on the Internet back in blighty, at times staying up till dawn for important games. When I returned to the U.S. in 2004 I was fortunate enough to watch my boys win the whole damn thing; almost sweeping those damn Lakers in the final.

During that play off run I wore my Ben Wallace jersey around town - people would beep and wave at me, showing their support for the little team, the Eastern team, as they took on the those slick over hyped playboys from the West. In my head I liked to imagine that I was actually a big time football player who was turning in guest appearances for UVA and fuelling unprecedented success and pride. This faded somewhat when I was bent over double fighting for breath 1 mile into my run but still, I dreamt.

I did achieve some kind of notoriety at the local bar, Orbitz, where I watched the play offs and finals. I would go there with my girlfriend whose own Spurs had been felled by the wretched Lakers and meet up with Steve, a Lakers fan who was angry for many reasons, but chose to vent these frustrations by clinging to the fact that it was the referees and not the fabulous Pistons who were responsible for his Loser Lakers having the Championship ripped from their grasp. During these times I awkwardly ate my chicken dippers, wondering when it would be safe to attempt engaging him in conversation. I knew how he felt; after Detroit lost their one game in that series I was son angry I threw my flip flop against a wall outside. Anywho, after a few games the bartender there would refer to me as Detroit. I can remember the first time this happened, casually accepting my new moniker, inwardly swelling with the joy that it was not sad sack or bent ben, and knowing that for me, a small part of the American dream had been achieved. Often I have wondered if I had kept going to that bar whether my nickname would have been upgraded to "Motown" - who knows?

Anywho, the Eastern Finals are upon us, and I'd like to use this space for updates, chatter, needling, and to exercise bragging rights. Nothing personal against Matthew; he was kind enough to take Jeff and I out for the Finals when Detroit lost in game 7 to the Spurs. It's just more fun to have a little friction for these events.

Also, today, I have a chance to exercise some demons. Chelsea (my Chelsea) play Manchester United in the F.A. Cup Final (football, proper football). I was there the last time these teams met in the Final (the most famous Domestic Cup Competition in the world) I was there. I was 14 years old and it was my first trip to Wembley, the national stadium. Manchester were the champions of the land, Chelsea had almost been relegated to a lower division. My mum always says I went away a boy and came back a man. I always feel I went away a boy and came back miserable. We lost 4-0. All goals coming in the second half. At the break we came in having dominated; we hit the cross bar, and as the rain poured down I felt we could actually win the game- I was giddy. After the game I stayed behind waving my flag forlornly in the heavy rain, certain that my defiant gesture would be the story the press would go with, symbolic of the unfair way we had lost the game, and the courage we had shown in trying to win it. When I got up to deliver the newspapers on my route, I was greeted with victorious smiles, glorious celebrations, all dressed in red and no muted pride cloaked in blue.

I wore a shirt with Sinclair on the back; most of you won't know the player even if your versed up on English football. He was my favourite player; he once celebrated a goal by dropping his shorts and doing a weird little shuffle. He also had to be substituted from a game because he needed to take a shit. He was my hero, and he is the one player's name I have had on my shirt, although we've had some much more famous and perhaps more deserving players since. That shirt was also shat on by a seagull while I watched us lose another game.

Anyway, the shirt is coming out again today, the sun is shining and I hope to be adding a triumphant post come tomorrow.

Please Chelsea, please do this.

More of this please.

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Saturday, May 12, 2007

Dancing Queen

The video's not the highest quality, but I'm sure you'll all agree that this is still clearly the world's cutest ballerina (if perhaps not the most rhythmic).

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Thursday, May 10, 2007

Bye Nerd

I know I'm playing into these people's little game when I post this, but I really do hate to think of the sense of satisfaction people get from pointing out these kind of mistakes...

This has nothing to do with the fact I am desperate not to let more than a week slide by without a post on the muck.

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Thursday, May 03, 2007


I Believe the Children Are the Future...

Though that may be hampered if they keep on bullying crocodiles and choosing the endzone of a football field to play hide and seek - found you!

I'd like to add that Jeff was kind enough to see the article on crocodiles and think of me. I'd like to take this opportunity to let our own missing child know that all of us here at the Muck miss him and we hope that he comes in from the wildernes where we have some great youtube lined up for him as well as some chocolate digestives.

If that incentive doesn't work, then I'll get the cream of the music world to lure him back...

Apologies for this first effort - as it's short notice I could only get some local boys in.

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