Can’t say I have high hopes for Fuller House

TL:DR: Netflix secures rights to spin-off of Full House, aptly called Fuller House.

The nostalgia nerd in me admits that I watched way more Full House than I really should admit to.  I mean seriously, I’ve probably seen every single episode of the show.  From DJ’s crash dieting, Uncle Jessie’s extended Greek family visiting so that both Olsen twins could be on screen at the same time, to the heart-wrenching breakup between Danny Tanner and Vicky, the woman who replaced Aunt Becky on Wake Up! San Francisco, I’m pretty sure I’ve actually seen them all.

Now the thought of making a spin-off of Full House, by basically taking the existing show characters, in current time, and basically reenacting the entire show all over again with some clever role modifications, sounds like a recipe for disaster.

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Atlanta has lost a culinary icon

Long story short: Ann Price, better known as “Miss Ann,” passes away at the age of 72.  She was known for running Ann’s Snack Bar, where it served an iconic item known as the “Ghetto Burger.”

It’s no secret that the Ghetto Burger is one of the most well-known must-try hamburgers in the country, most notably decreed “the best” by the Wall Street Journal at one point.

And as much as I tried to get others to go to Miss Ann’s, or encouraged for people to put their anxieties of going into a scary urban black neighborhood aside for good food, I could never get anyone to go to Ann’s Snack Bar and try a Ghetto Burger.

Now, none of those people ever will.  Nobody ever will, again.

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Let’s hope the eastern seaboard doesn’t need any honey

Impetus: semi-truck carrying over 400 hives and nearly 14 million bees crashes and rolls on Interstate 5, in a town north of Seattle; bees get everywhere.

Good god almighty, this is pretty much the worst thing ever.  Thank god that this did not occur in Georgia, on the same I-285/I-20 ramp that has derailed trucks carrying beer, eggs and chickens on separate instances, because knowing the Metro Atlanta area, it would somehow end up closed highways, crippled traffic, and several violent incidents with at least three fatalities involving police being accused of shooting black people.

But seriously, imagine driving down the road, and passing through a literal cloud of bees, and they get sucked into your air filter, pop out of your vents and into your vehicle, and start stinging you?  Needless to say, this scenario is the perfect time to drop the Tommy Boy BEES video clip, which is totally relevant.

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Gym math, personified

What the gym taketh, in terms of energy, sweat and stamina, the gym also occasionally giveth, in terms of gains all-important brog content.

Back in January, I posted the story of this guy who added plates onto the chest fly machine, despite the fact that the machine could have matched/exceeded his desired weight limit without the need of plates.  I deduced (accused) that the guy was not only just dumb, but arbitrarily adding weight to make him appear more hardcore than he really was.

Today, I got photo evidence.

I also got a good look at the guy who did this himself, and to no surprise, he fit the mold of someone who wants to look fierce and menacing; BeatsTM headphones, compression sleeves, high socks to hide the fact that he obviously has small calves, and lifting gloves.  For machine lifting.  All while breathing like he were breathing fire like Smaug.

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The Washington Wizards and team logos

Impetus: The Washington Wizards have changed their official logo, ditching the bearded wizard that has plagued the identity since 1997 and has been gradually phased out.

Halle-fuckin-lujah.

Back in the mid/late-90s, when I was a huge NBA basketball fan, I loved the Washington Bullets. They were my hometown team, and despite the fact that they more or less stunk record-wise, I still loved them. Because my parents didn’t allow me to have cable, aside from the NBA on NBC on weekends, Bullets games were the only regular exposure to watching basketball available.

I watched through the rough days of teams anchored by Tom Gugliotta and Rex Chapman, to the arrivals of Chris Webber and Juwan Howard, to hope to rekindle some of that Michigan Fab Five magic, which actually produced some halfway decent, and entertaining squads. And who could forget loveable 7’7 Gheorghe Muresan, and the perpetually stoned-looking Rod Strickland?

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Fantasizing about “fixing” Atlanta’s traffic woes

After a morning which saw an 84-minute drive into work, and an additional 20 minute wait at Starbucks, I’m finally settled in at my desk a solid hour after when I would have preferred to have done such.

Seriously, the next time I wake up at my house and hear pelting rain and torrential downpour, and it’s a day in which carpooling wasn’t scheduled, I’m going to say I’ve contracted cholera, and call in sick.

I’m finding that my criteria of what constitutes a “good” morning grows lower and lower, and it’s getting to a point where nightmarish traffic is expected, and I’m just happy when the douchebag in front of me at Starbucks doesn’t pay with the Starbucks app, which conveniently my daily Starbucks does not have the hardware to accept in any other fashion than necessitating three minutes to punch in every single digit before the screen goes back to sleep.

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Xbox achievements are lame now

Back in the ancient days of the Xbox 360, I really enjoyed Xbox achievements. I spent way more time than I care to admit trying to lock down every single achievement in Left 4 Dead.

I used exploits to assist in beating Expert, I changed the difficulty to Easy to farm massive numbers of zombies to kill, and all sorts of tactics to nail down all available 1,000 gamer points.

There was once a night where I managed to wrangle together seven other people, and we played a patsy of a 4v4 game, where we all took turns trying to farm down achievements, such as the one that involved puking on all four survivors simultaneously, one special infected incapacitating all four survivors, and so forth.

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