It's Great to Be a Florida Gator.

The Florida Gators were voted national champions for the second time in three years, and I would really be happy if the world exploded. My deep black hatred for the orange and blue is all encompasing. Their success is my misery. However, I can’t feel half as frustrated as the Gators’ defensive coordinator, Charlie Strong. Strong’s defense just bent “the best offense in college football history” over and treated them like a white collar convict in a maximum security prison for the second time in three years. He’s been a huge part of the Gators’ success yet, no one wants to interview him for a head coaching job. I wonder why. What could possibly be the reason that not one of the 30 or so schools looking for a head coach is interested in even talking to Charlie Strong? Well f**k ‘em all. I’m a Gator fan until the brother man gets an interview.

What lead my daughter to the Tribe or I'm Not Racist. You're Racist for Thinking I'm Racist (part II)

My daughter discovered latkes about ten days ago and loves them. What’s not to love, but she’s just a little girl. My wife likes to say she, my daughter, has a sophisticated palate, but there were onions in the latkes, and what 19 month old likes onions? I guess mine does. If you click on the latke link you can see a picture of her enjoying her fried potatoes Chosen People style. When LMJ chooses Judaism as her way to serve God I’ll look back to this moment. There’s no real downside. There may have been more of a downside if she was a boy, but since she’s a girl there’s no circumcision anxiety. Lisa Bonet, Lenny Kravitz, and Jenny from the Jeffersons have already blazed the biracial Jewish trail for her. She’ll have one day of penance each year on Yom Kippur as opposed to forty days of Lent. There’s no need to pay retail in sin. That last sentence is a total rip-off of a John Stewart joke from his act from fifteen years ago. Her mother is already instructing her in the mysteries of voicing one’s true suffering so LMJ is going to be way ahead of the game. There’s a good chance I’ll be sending her to Hebrew school anyway, just because kids have it too easy these days, and I remember growing up that none of my Jewish friends liked missing out on soccer and kickball to learn the language of the prophets. Finally, if she’s a Jew she’ll have the stereotype Royal Flush. She’ll have the gifts of a big booty, crazy athleticism, and rhythm from my people. Her mother’s people give her the gifts of a work ethic, organization, and brutality on a historic scale. The Jews will give her an overdeveloped sense of self and a nose for money. Plus, since all Blacks know each other and all Jews know each other LMJ will know everybody, and it’s all due to a tasty treat.

I'm Not Racist. You're Racist for Thinking I'm Racist

I was dragged to Wal-Mart last night by my wife. It was just how I remembered it: a congregation of the dregs of humanity. I always want a gun, but the Wal-Mart parking lot was the first time in a long time that I felt I might need one. It was six-thirty on a Sunday night so, of course, Wal-Mart was jam packed. When we got out of the car, I felt like I was in a scene from The Wire, and I realized I’ve insulated myself from the real world and real people’s problems. I see lots of different colors of people in my daily life, but if I had to guess, 98% of them have college degrees, and are more concerned about global warming than buying beer with a WIC check. I’ve become a limousine liberal. I’m Barbara Streisand. I don’t want to come in contact with the disenfranchised. I just want to tell them how to live. We found the candy MJ wanted and were in the less than 20 items express line behind a Cambodian refugee. I don’t know if he was Cambodian; I didn’t see a passport or anything, but I’m almost certain he was a refugee. I’m also pretty sure he handed the East Indian clerk a counterfeit sawbuck. MJ doesn’t do well in crowds or with inefficiency, yet she wanted to go to Wal-Mart. The refugee had a penny coming back to him, and the clerk was out of pennies. MJ offered one up, having come back to her senses about being in Wal-Mart, to speed things along. The refugee didn’t make eye contact with anyone because he’s part of a counterfeiting ring, but the clerk acted like MJ was offering up one of her kidneys. As we were walking out, and the clerk was asking MJ for her name so he could nominate her for the Nobel Peace Prize, MJ told me I was right about not wanting to go to Wal-Mart. I didn’t have a voice recorder to catch the rare moment, but I bet Wal-Mart had one cheap.