TJ Talkin - the collection!

[$heriff Tom]

From 1986-1990 a veritable pestilence raged through two college campuses, as a young hotshot columnist named TJ Brown penned what turned out to be a Nationally awarded "stab at humor" column for his school newspapers, where he also masqueraded as both sports editor and managing editor at various incarnations.

I am that columnist.

The column got me noteriety, fame to a point (both Tom Wolfe and E.L Doctorow, who visited the campus, told me they loved my work, as did Suffolk Community College alum and middling catcher Sal Butera, who was sent a few copies when he was interviewed by yours truly over the phone before a Twins World Series appearance), girls galore, and some mild violence. I was attacked more than once for my work, dressed down in scary fashion by a crazed professor in a classroom for something I wrote and my general behavior, and a brick was thrown through the offices of our paper. But it was a labor of love.

And now, for the first time in nearly 20 years, some of that work is going to be revived. On a trip to the parents, I pulled these papers and they are bringing back a time of rampant atrocity.

I will host them in the Asylum, in one thread. It may bring a smile to the faces of those who have enjoyed my work, from my columns for this board from 98-02 to my Scorecard Memories today. It may also show a few of you how I developed the "talents" and the "attituded" I carry over to this very day.

And, to show this is not ALL ABOUT ME, but just a fair amount about me, I invite any writers out there who want to pull old stories and columns from their lifetimes of writing (and I know you are out there) to submit them, where I will host them in my thread in a special writing thread. If you want to write something new, I will start a column thread. I was instrumental in starting the Road Trip idea and section - so I take this seriously and enjoy all you contribute.

As for me, I insulted my very readers. I was sexist. I attempted "stand up comedy" on a printed page. And to this day I will never forget the feeling of walking around campus the day the papers came out, and watching literally hundreds reading my stuff. Arrogant, yes. Bombastic, certainly. Controversial - I invented the word. And lets kick this off a couple of HATE LETTERS!!!

[$heriff Tom]

sheriff tom Re: TJ Talkin' - the collection! #1


Here are two letters which appeared in the December 21st, 1988 issue of The Compass, the campus paper of Suffolk Community College, Selden branch. Talk about your Christmas spirit!

They were headed by a cute "On Target" logo, complete with dartboard, and a picture of me making a mocking pose, wearing an M.O.D t-shirt.

To the editors,

In response to T.J. Browns query as to why his outrageously sexist columns elicit little negative reaction, perhas the best explanation is an analogy: As a mother, I never became enraged when my babies soiled their dapiers. I expected no more from them, as they were quite immature. Women have come to expect llittle but SHIT to emanate from infantile ASSHOLES.

When the formidable four-year-old screamed, "you're not paying attention to me!" and threw an outlandish tantrum, mothers found that ignored behavior was soon outgrown. Most of us are too busy with our own lives to respond to adolescent ravings in a school newspaper.

As for the claim he "puts women in their place" - doesnt that assume T.J writes with some recognized authority and that readers are somehow influenced by his opinion? It would seem redundant for readers to take TJ seriously, as his own high regard for his talents and acument more than compensate for we fools that feel he is best unread.

Perhaps his desire is to proveoke debate and scale the journalistic heights of Geraldophiloprah. In that case it may be wise to occassionally produce a column that contains ideas beyond the cliches of pretentious cynicism and fashionable anti-intellectualism (although I doubt the latter is merely a pose)

It is hopeful that poor TJ now understands why no one writes him letters. I have explained simply and patiently as I know how. I understand he is still a boy, and hope that when he matures he will not suffer excessive embarrassment from the columns written as an arrogant youth. In the meantime, his printed tantrums will continue to be ignored by his targets. We've become quite good at it...we've been overlooking kids rampages for years.

Diane Campbell
***************************

TJ Talkin' is the journalistic equivalent of mooning passers-by from a moving vehicle, or sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes (in his better moments) I suppose these antics might have some value, might even be impressive, if their perpetrator was a quadrapeligic. Coming from someone with pretensions of journalistic and linguistic prowess, they are merely irritating examples of vulgar infantilism.

The purpose, one supposes, is to be provocative, thereby provoking some thought and reflection on the part of the hapless reader. Jonathan Swift was provacative, Gary Trudeau is provacative. TJ provokes nothing as much as disgust. The ends DO NOT justify the means.

Repeating Freshman English wouldn't hurt TJ either. The Faculty and Student body of SCCC would surely be better served by avoiding such narcissistic self-indulgence and passing it off as avant-garde journalism.

Francesca Bonacorsa
Humanities Division
*******************************

See, folks? I have always been this way.

[$heriff Tom]

And, finally - let me kick this off with one of the columns. In that same 1988 issue, to close off the fall semester. I had the entire 8th page. On the top, under my modern fonted "TJ Talkin" logo were a picture of Sesame Streets Grover, a pic of a pen of hogs (referencing the Feminist organ on campus) and a cool shot of me dressed in a gangster get-up, with pinstriped suit and black fedora.

TJ TALKIN' - December 21, 1988

Christmas day is right around the corner, but if you think I'm here to spread Christmas cheer you might as well tell whoever it is reading this to you to quit it, because I'm not. Cheer and frivolity is too hard to come by to waste it on someone else. I will say Merry Christmas to all those who got me presents, though, and your autographed pictures are in the mail.

However, even a hooligan such as myself became drunk from the holiday spirit, and feeling for the still money hungry farmers I dialed the Farm Aid relief line. After all, its a toll-free number...Anyway, I offered to send Dad's old shovel and a hoe, hoe, hoe...but since its not colored dollar bill green they refused my generous tidings. I left them with a joke..."Whats the difference between a farmer and a pigeon?" I asked the hayseed on the line.

"What? Howdy, howdy, Yeeeeehhhhaaaaawww! Go ahead." he said.

"A pigeon can still afford to make a deposit on a new tractor." I said, spitting tobacco on the rug. Well, you got to relate to your sources...

Hey, whats with the commercialization of trials on TV? I mean, television epics like Doprah are interrupted so we can find out how Helda and Joel "have fun behind closed doors" outside of the rigerous activities such as freebasing coke and child abuse. I've already seen someone walking around in a t-shirt that read, "My Mom went to the Steinberg trial and I all I got was this lousy t-shirt" Whats next...those little bubble things you shake and the snow goes all over? "Hey, look - there's Joel's cocaine" you could say.

I see no reason this crap should be on TV. Next thing you know we are going to have a John Madden lookalike (John Candy perhaps) with their version of Sunday football's CBS chalkboard analyzing the lawyers grandstanding. Pointing at the board, his sleeves rolled up, he'd say "Then Miller left the witness stand to appeal directly to the jury...over here he collided with the defense attorney, represented by this X here...If we could just get a replay on this contact....what? Let me get this out of the way....this trial is the sole property of the Federal Court of the U.S. Any reproduction, retransmission, or any other use of this program...."

Being in the public eye, I hear a lot of questions from those seeking my advice. In a recent PLAYBOY interview I was asked the trhee questions I am asked most often. These are them (?)

1) What are the three questions you are asked most often?
2) Can we do it one more time....please?
3) My closet door has slipped off its track. Do I have to take the wall apart to access the track to make a repair?

Here now, the answers...

1) Don't even think I am going to start this again...
2) Give someone else a chance, for crying out loud!
3) A pocket door can usually be usually lifted back in place. If that fails or you need to lubricate the wheels or get at the nuts that adjust the door so it hangs plumb, remove the screwed side of the two-piece head jamb. Remember, if the casing is painted, you should break the paint seal with a sharp knife before removing the jamb.

Well, it seems like my taunt for response has bought three vicious hate letters directed at you know who, all available for public viewing elsewhere in this issue, all written by three muscle flexing, Tarzan yelping women. Before you think these three ladies speak for the common folk, allow me to tell you who they are. They are all avid feminists and members of Suffolks own feminist weapon, LILITH. Bottom line is I hate feminists, but I have no time to make fun of them or their bogus cause until next semester. I once hung out with a feminist, and one night as she snuffed out her cigar she told me she wanted to "hit the hay" with me. "I'll hit it" I said "as soon as you finish eating it."

So as LILITH tries to jump on the publicity bandwagon by throwing pot-shots across the hall, I say this to them. No, I will not accept the arm-wrestling challenge. I would also appreciate the underwear I sent over to you to be returned. By the way, on the subject of equal rights itself, I am all for women in the workplace, as long as they have dinner on the table for the man at 5:30 on the dot, no questions asked.

Only one around here will come on top. His name is TJ. He is not perfect, but he is closer to it than anyone else.

[$heriff Tom]

Things started out innocently enough for me, way back in September 1987. I took on the role of Sports Editor, and was approached about writing some sort of opinion piece. Instead, I came up with a hokey sports quiz, with a couple of real zingers. Remember the time....see if you can spot the nods to the times back then.

Not all that funny, but different. It was the first thing I ever wrote for "public consumption" as it were. And there was a column to the left of it, my very first, which I will put up later. Its dinner time at the Brown home!

SPORTS QUIZ TO CHANGE THE WORLD
September 30th, 1987

What will Dale Berra most be remembered for?
A) being a good, solid hitter
B) Being Yogi's son
C) Urinating in public
D) Making the doughnuts

What did Darryl Strawberry hit more of in 1987?
A) Bars
B) Home Runs
C) His wife

Who is Jeff Innis?
A) A figment of someones imagination
B) A Met pitcher
C) Discovered the cotton gin
D) Shot the Pope

How did Alan Wiggins do on his drug test?
A) Tested negative
B) Got a 100
C) Failed test, did great on the lab
D) Better than Steve Howe

What cracked most under pressure?
A) 1977 Red Sox
B) Joe Theismann's leg
C) The stands at the latest Mexican Soccer Riot
D) Sid Fernandez' plane seat

Which is higher?
A) Allen Wiggins (refer to question 3)
B) Spud Webbs head
C) Ho Jo's error count
D) Dan Pasqua's average

Steve Trouts best pitch..
A) Can strike out Wade Boggs
B) Goes backwards
C) Goes 98 MPH
D) Hit a fan in the upper deck

Where has Ron Davis gone?
A) Jail for impersonating a major leaguer
B) No one cares, they are just glad he is gone
C) To conquer the Incas
D) Through Bill Buckners legs

Where does Manute Bol live during the offseason
A) Africa
B) that house over there
C) Washington
D) In a garden hose

Umpires are better known as...
A) Men in blue
B) Arbiters
C) rally killers
D) stupid *%@$#^#

What record is one most likely to break?
A) Dimaggio's hitting streak
B) Gino Petralli's passed balls
C) Gehrigs consecutive game streak
D) Lets Go Mets Go!

[$heriff Tom]

When i first landed a spot on the college paper I was asked if I could do some sort of opinion column, based on my gregarious nature around the office. I sort of took the ball and ran with it. Following is MY FIRST COLUMN EVER - THE ONE THAT STARTED IT ALL. LOOKING BACK ON IT NOW IT IS NOT ALL THAT FUNNY, BUT I FIND IT INTERESTING TO SEE MY EFFORTS TO WADE IN THAT SORT OF WATER.

Written during the infamous NFL strike...it even contains a mention of the Fat Boys.....

******************************

September 30, 1987

Since football strikes seem to be popping up so very often, many people find themselves with nothing to do on Sunday. Well, here are a few suggestions for all of you affected by strikes. Oh, and you people that hate football are free to use them, too.

GO TO CHURCH - Remember church? That wondrous place by the cemetery where Uncle Joe married that woman for her money, where that brat Eddie was baptized, or where you confessed to that priest how you choked your sister with a wire hanger or had evil thoughts towards Praire Dawn and the babes in Magic Garden.

You can reminice about these and other holy memories in the pew by the organ rather than scream and shout by the TV, or better yet, the 50 yard line. You can wonder if Jesus and the disciples would have made a good football team. On one hand, they would - they'd never commit any infractions or get flagged on anything, and you can't tackle the son of God in due concience. Then again, Judas would probably throw the game.

You must adapt to the church atmosphere rather than the crowd behavior at the Meadowlands. Beer and posters are unfortunatly not sold in church (but there is wine) and you are not patted down at the door. Banners dont go well in church, although you could probably get away with the old "John 3:16" - as much as you would like to chopblock the altar boy or douse the priest with holy water, you must resist. Church may be a tough alternative.

GO TO THAT FAMILY GATHERING - it can be fun. Watch your relatives play horseshoes, get sick on Grandma's attempt at potato salad, and drop burgers through the grill. Maybe you can get a football game going with your relatives! Didn't you always want to tackle that cute distant cousin of yours and really earn that "holding penalty?" Didn't you always want to tackle Uncle Ed, a comic relative as original as a pizza box that exclaims, "you've tried the rest....now try the best!!!" How about going back to pass and hitting that wide reciever better known as "Grandma's picture window?"

WATCH ESPN - there's always something interesting going on here on the "total sports network." Maybe they're showing that "recently taped" tennis match your Dad swears he attended back in high school. Maybe they'll show that soccer game where the fans stormed the field, battled the policias, inched through barbed wire, only to swim through a moat containing gators, sharks, and the Fat Boys. Look at those soccer players fight for thier lives!

If you're really lucky that steeple chase will be on again, but then again dont we all already have that taped for constant viewing? Knowing ESPN they'll show last months NFL games and hope no one notices...

Maybe if we switch the channel. Baseball is still on, but one can't yell "Kill em!" during a ball game. The weather channel has updates every 7 minutes, and channel 5 should have a good Godzilla movie on, as always.

The choices are endless. You can do yardwork, bowl, eat, jog a mile, make love, fight, swim the English channel, or try to find the English Channel on that TV. Don't you hate football strikes?

[$heriff Tom]

If you know me, this one is a MUST READ. I mean, this one is worth it. Trust me.

Ok, skipping around a bit. By 1991 I had moved on to a different school (SUNY New Paltz) doing the same thing, but with more of a honed edge. By this point, I had found my footing and was causing quite the stir.

By now I was insulting the readers, discussing my sexual prowess, and describing myself as an Adonis. Imagine that...I mentioned bestiality, homosexuals, and swore a few times. And I was not an editor, they had me sending these columns in from my new base in Albany, where I was doubling as a legislative reporter. Unreal.

That takes us to the March 28 - April 3, 1991 issue. Look for some early bleacher insults I was using already in my columns, and one of my best lines EVER (the mixed breed line)

TJ TALKIN

One thing, along with shooting bottle rockets out of moving cars and having sex with a tie on that I enjoy is being asked to outline my finest quality. Its an ardous task, kind of like finding a date is for you, because I have more sterling qualities than USA Network has Bill Bixby movies. This is the one time I will listen to what others have to say, because I subscribe to the credo, "Please stop talking when I am interrupting."

People always bring up my good looks. But then again you would never wrap a diamond inside a Dave Gori column (ed note - Gori was a "competing" columinist..) - Some jealous nimrods who like to hear themselves talk say, "I never met a mirror he did not like" (yeah, I loved the one on their girlfriends ceiling) but the truth is mirrors love me because I make them look good. My incredible sexual prowess is widely known as unparralleled. But Hell, what do you expect from a man who uses more positions to take off his own shoes than most of you use in the entire sexual act. Takes longer, too. If they arrested some of you impotents for having good sex, they would be arresting innocent men.

Others cite my ability to make others laugh, which unlike them I can do without using my face. Other humorists are regular Bob Hope-lesses next to me. But I am most proud of my ability to take the irrelevant and the meaningless and use it to piss people off. With my regal standing and your peon groveling I can incite a riot simply by saying Fred Flintstone was a homosexual. I am such a celebrity you buy my lines even before you buy your solo sex aids. But I never speak just cause I like the sounds of my voice because my words are too valuable not to share. Besides, Fred Flintstone was no homosexual, attending a church where only half the congregation kneels. Its well known he was a child molester.

I often use my power of relevence to save Happy Hour (happy cause you are not in Albany here with me) - the bouncer gave me a hard time again this week because it is his job to act like that to impress all the underage girls he lets in. "If they have grass on the field, they are old enough to play ball" the bouncers cry in unison! He lets in these Rob Lowe refugees and gives me the business cause my ID says "6 feet tall" which is admittedly wrong. This proves an inch DOES make a difference. "I was standing on a board when they took the picture and measurement" I lied. He didnt buy that, but he did bought, "sure, I have another form of ID...right under this $10 bill." Greedy Pippi Longstocking skirt chaser.

You would have thought it was Thesis (editors note - the New Paltz artsy lesbian bar) with all the ugly girls in there, too. If the elephant man walked in he'd bellow, "now I know I am not an animal!" They held a best legs contest and a table won. Anyway, we were all down in a way that made it look like we just went through the Harlem Globetrotters visit Gilligan's Island again. One guy was beefing cause his woman left him cause she was "tired of his stupid games." Surprised the Hell out of me, I thought Parcheesi and Yahtzee were cool games. Another guy was mad cause he HAD a girlfriend (and he'd be madder if he knew she was mine, too) I was down cause there were people on hand that want to ban the sport of dwarf tossing. I'd just love to be a dwarf tosser, throwing those little sons of bitches around.

With the girls uglier than a Bob Saget monologue and a wallet emptier than your underwear it looked like not even a good rodeo spill could liven things up. Then I remembered a story I read in one New York Post, that bastion of journalism integrity. This is rich. Some mangy mutt was goofing off on the subway tracks, holding up rush hour cause he needed a place to pee and lick his crotch. Two incompetents went down there to get him off (cause as you ladies know what better way to "get him off" than to "go down there") while the train was forced to wait. They couldnt catch the dumb dog because the only thing you can actually catch in the subway system is disease. Anyway, realizing some people had to go to work, the driver decided to give this rascal the old run-down feeling. That dog was obliterated. If he wasnt a mixed breed before, he sure was after going under that train.

I tabled this for discussion and we all agreed this was a terrible thing, the train getting delayed like that. The ASPCA is furious, but we voted 4-0 to make a motion to tell them to go screw. Here's why...the guy that ran over the dog is getting death threats. They put this dogs toilet lapping life ahead of human life. I agree that some more effort should have been made to save the dog, though. What they should have really done is shot him in the legs and hobbled the bastard.

The dog did not belong down there. I bet he did not even buy a token. People ask, "what if it was a homeless man instead of a dog?" Well, aside from the smell being worse, you would have been able to catch them then, as the only time a homeless man runs is after he mugs an old woman. But it is a feasable way to end the homeless problem, huh? I dont condone random slaughter, but in this case Judge TJ's verdict is execution! Figure it out, we estimated 87 people later lost their jobs because the dog made them late, 438 people got annoyed and said, "hit the goddamned thing, already", 73 wanted to have sex with the person next to them, 33 of those were the same sex, 2 wanted to have sex with the dog, and a whopping 873 people still think Jimmie JJ Walker is the next coming of Nipsey Russell. And when you ponder THAT, what is one less stray dog?

The whole point of this column in case it went right by you like opportunity is to prove my ability to bring up something dumb that no one cares about (no, not you) and use it in times of crisis like a bland Happy Hour to get a good fight going. And I am sure I raised a stink back down there at New Paltz (like it cant raise one on its own) because I said a dog got its just desserts by becoming, well, just dessert. But I dont care cause I say what I want. And now that I am back by special invite on a bi-weekly basis, let me say this to my detractors who thought they were rid of me and my kind. No, there is no justice - there is "just us." And for all you phony animal advocates who come out only in times like this, people who think ringworms is a lawn game like horseshoes, before you pet that dog.....pet THIS!

Thats all I have to say.

[$heriff Tom]

Heading way back into the past, during my SUNY New Paltz days, Oct 18th-24th, 1990 issue to be exact. I was at my nastiest, even asking my supporters to "beat up" my critics, but nothing but good was coming out of it for me. I go off on a tirade at the end, showing off my defensive side. I did not take to criticism well back then.

Please read on for more of the genesis of the brash Sheriff Tom persona you have come to know and loathe. On the other hand how many other sports columnists could compare a team to the Elephant Man?

TJ TALKIN

Well, I'm back with a vengeance and a purpose, unlike most of you who have nothing to show for your presence but acne and an addiction to Parchessi. With all the complaints stinking up this hallowed office like slimy dead fish entrails basted with gurgling crocodile feces on tip of a bile-laden mucous splattered corpse, I thought I was at our own Hasbrouck Dining Hall. But I am not. I am like that exquisite French restaurant that you can take your date to (oh, sorry, I should have said if you could get a date) to check out the menu you can't read, the prices you can't afford, and the private table in the back you could make love on. I am in that elite class. I urge my thousands of admirers to seek out these ugly complainers and beat them up. This way we can do our part to work towards a more harmonious campus.

It appears the Reds are an Oakland plane crash away from a World Series title. It would be great if they could bust up the A's but it would also be great if "Sports From The Hip" (ed note - a competing column) was funny. Asking a bit much. At least the Reds have a bullpen and dont throw beach balls up there like the jerkoff Red Sox. I compare the underdog Reds with a famous character of note, who did his best to conquer adversity and ultimately failed miserably. That man of valor was known as John Merrick, but we shall for this purpose use his pseudonym (I know, use a dictionary if you even know what one is) - the Elephant Man, because.....well, thats what he looked like.

You see, everyone counted the Elephant Man out, picking him last in gym class and all. Then he got a break, joining the circus like every other little boy dreams about when he is not dreaming about oral sex, but he left the show in shame. I think he was trying to unionize it or something. Anyway, he kept on and got to move in with this friendly doctor who was even straight, and later he had this rich floozy remove her top and flash him, raising his trunk like a flag. Of course he blew it all by going to bed with a big head, but he tried. Next time you lift a brew, remember the efforts of a stalwart like the Elephant man, and root for them.

Marge Schott, the Reds' grisly old lady owner is the laughing stock of the league because she is cheaper than the buffoons who gave me pennies on Halloween. When the Pirates, a class team, sat her behind her teams dugout she retaliated by sitting the Pirates wives so far up in Cincy they violated French airspace. She leaves such little food for visiting clubs Karen Carpenter was once quoted as saying, "this is it??" She is such a sleaze that last Halloween she was knitting and said in her manly growl, "children, Grandma needs a really sharp needle, but wont go out and buy one. Can you rummage through your candy and find me one?" If I was a Red that overgrown rodent would have so many spike holes in her ass she would look like a screen door from behind.

Saw the NY Rangers home opener when they lifted their division banner. It was more nauseating than watching Minnie Pearl lifting up her skirt. The Rangers, as much as I hate them, are a decent team, but no way in the top 5 of the league (unless you flip the bottom over, of course)

Just want to tackle these "sexist" accusations again. This time, I wil discuss women broadcasters, which is about as interesting a topic as Ricardo Montalbon or macaroni salad. Proving once again I am not sexist to all those Tarzan-yelping arm-wrestling beast women out there yelling at me, I am by no means against women sportscasters. Its just that they all rot. No good ones, no pretty ones, none that have the guts to do the sports in a bikini top and high heels, while dancing and pouring a frothy liquid down their chests. That would be nice. See, there is potential there. Aspire to it, ladies.

Now, lets discuss these ham and eggers who have ntohing better to do t han attack me with anonymous notes slipped under our door or phone messages to the office. Regular Coward Cosells. Anonymity is good for 12th Century poets, but not 20th Century idiots. If you forgot your own name I am sure it is written on your McDonalds nametags.

One guy who had to stop drinking milk cause the cow kept falling on him insinuated my abrasive style "fuels the racial problems on campus." Alright, I admit I did not help the Persian Gulf crisis any, and we all know I was behind the Hindenberg crash, but this time I am innocent. Another winner who thinks he can only play his AM radio in the morning said, "anyone who rolls joints all day and gets wasted and writes wasted like TJ does...." - Hey, if that is what I was doing I would advise all of YOU to do it, because I am a winner. Understand that? 1987 and 1988 New York State Columnist of the year. By the way, 1988 College Sportswriter of the year . Published in Newsday Sunday Magazine. Enough for you? I live cleaner than your sex glands are, and you've never got to use them. Go to Hell (and you know if that is directed at you or not. I do respect people, including the readers, and I am just trying to have fun here, as if that is not obvious enough)

One more thing. One radio host here on campus said in one of his characteristic fits of stupidity that I have "no sports knowledge." I was a Sports Editor at 18 when he was busy going to his Senior Prom by himself. I am smart enough to know the 86 World Series was fixed, Hulk Hogan is better than Randy Savage, and I did go 11-1 on my NFL picks this week after nailing 10 games last week. I never heard this "show" cause I am busy counting bricks over that option at night, but I have been told I could do a better "show" if all I did was make farting noises with my armpits. I, unlike other people, have a face for TV and not radio. I repeat, if you did not get it the first time, this is not a sports trivia column.

Finally, for the "women" in Bliss Hall that said I was born a few centuries too late for my views on women, I should have been so Icould have mingled with some of the cavewomen who live in that Hall. You are a bunch of imbeciles.

I will leave you with a quote, I believe from Confucious, who said "Only one man can stand on top by right, all others are aspirant fools." Well, goodbye aspirant fools!

[$heriff Tom]

How bout a little hatred and rampant sexism?

Lets revisit New Paltz' "The Oracle" from Oct 11-17th, 1990, and the antics of your favorite columnist, shall we?

TJ TALKIN

I know its with quivering fingers, hearty chuckles and fluttering hearts (for the girls only, I hope) that you read my weekly fare, putting all else aside, where it belongs. This will not be my best effort, but remember my worst is still better than your best. You see, I wrote all my humorous musings this time out in a two inning span while I watched Game 4 of the ALCS. 30 minutes, which is no time for me, but an eternity for you. Hell, your longest sexual experience didnt go half that long. This is what you get with no prep.

Let me start by saying the Red Sox really do suck, Hoover vaccuum style. They did so bad Morganna the Kissing Bandit ran out (or fell out, as it were) on the field with her twin peaks and shook Roger Clemens' hand. The Sox bullpen was doing pantomime out there, and it go so bad I think they pulled fans out of the crowd to have a go at it. Geez, the New Paltz baseball team could have done what they did, losing four in a row. At least they would have tried.

Red Sox fans are like the slut Bon Jovi groupies that said, "aw, shit, he just got married! Oh, damn." Like they had a chance. The Red Sox could not have hit that fat tub Roseanne Bar with a blimp. I dont know who should get the Oakland MVP, the umpires or the Boston bullpen. That trollop Liz Taylor had an easier time holding on to husbands than the Sox did with leads, and at least one of her "bedroom chock full o' men" could get out of a bases loaded jam. The series was more disgusting than Liz Taylor is now.

Then the idiot ump, looking for some TV time, decides to eject Clemens from the game. He said "something personal" while arguing balls and strikes, apparently. What the Sam Hill is he supposed to say?? "Excuse me, sir arbiter. I believe you were mistaken in calling the placement of that pitch. I beg to differ with your esteemed opinion." To Hell with that! You tell that ump where his Mom was last night! They should be able to take it, being they were usually bought up with both their parents taking turns breast feeding them. And then, when you think the imbroglio would wake the Sox up, you were wasting thoughts. Rip Van Winkle would be quicker to awake.

I refuse to lower myself to talking about that racquetball court Fenway Park, which they should tear down so lets move on to that "great place to be if you're a smokestack" - Pittsburgh. Those Judas fans couldn't even sell out a playoff game. What a bunch of turds. I dont think Pittsburgh could sell out an orgy. That sewer city finally has a chance to roll the streets back out at night and they don't. They suck.

Now it looks like an A's-holes - Reds series, which has about the same rating in excitement as watching a spider masturbate. I hate both of these teams and they can take a flying leap as far as I am concerned. The Fall Classic has taken a classic fall in my opinion.

Enough of that crap, because now I'm mad and when I type it is not supposed to be that way. My doctor said. On to friendlier things, like the ridiculous notion that women belong in mens locker rooms. Yeah, right. I know last week I was nice about it, but that was last week. Women are getting too many privelages all of a sudden, for example voting. The only way I am buying women in a locker room where men dont want them is that they strip down like the men have. I dont care where they have to put their tape recorders or pens. I dont mean to sound sexist, because I respect women. My girlfriend is one (how about yours?) -

Point is, when a football coach is fined more money than any of you, with the exception of me, will ever make just for booting a woman out of the locker room, something is wrong. For $30,000 you would think he put her in a camel clutch and spike piledrove her on the cement floor. I'm tired of all these people thinking they can just go from lesbian conclaves like Bliss Hall (ed note - a female only dorm in New Paltz) and hang out in a mens locker room. If the players dont mind, I have no problem. But they do, and thats case closed.

Then you have these idiots who want fighting banned from hockey. Banning fighting from hockey is like banning taking your clothes off for sex. Where would geeks like Kris King be if they did not let him hang around to headbutt opponents fists? If they killed fighting there would be more people at Uncle Floyd TV tapings - or Pirates games, than at a hockey game. "Its a game of grace, speed and nifty moves" they say. "Oh yeah?" I retort. "Then why isnt Peggy Fleming playing?" Thats another case closed.

Before I go and live the columnists life you all dream about, I want to thank my thousands of readers for their compliments and gifts, but realize I never needed them. I know how good I am, but I like when you tell me. And thanks to Pi Alpha Nu for being such sick dudes and reinspirng me to return by telling me I am the greatest guy. And also for buying me all my Thursday Night drinks at P& G's, got it? With that, keep your feet on the ground and keeping reaching for the stars, and being one myself allow me to say keep your hands off of me. Good day!

[$heriff Tom]

BACKGROUND This was one of my favorite things I ever penned. I think some of my most clever comedy material, or attempts at such, are here, although some of it is lost to the perils of timeliness. This originally appeared in March of 1988. Look for some xenophobia, an early Al Trautwig reference, and a corny Cindi Lauper reference.

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MARCH 2, 1988
TJ TALKS OLYMPICS

The Winter Olympics have come and gone again, leaving this jester of journalism fond memories, but more importantly about 20 pages of comedy material sponsored by the Cowtown charades. Well, here we go...

Wasnt that late night wrap-up by Frank Gifford and his granddaughter...oh, I mean wife, Kathie Lee cute? That fireplace setting was so comfy and romantic, I could just hear old dusty Frank murmer, "I love you baby" and Mrs. G cooing in return, "I love your wallet, old man."

Congrats to Pirmin Zubriggin on his fine performance during the downhill. I wonder how he learned to ski, wearing those curly wooden shoes they favor in his homeland?

You would think with all the places to train in the US we would have finished better than 28th in the downhill. Hell, even the African team did bettter and they went down on bamboo poles! Irishman Patty O'Downigo and Russian Ivan Ikantski both nailed volunteer officials and tumbled all the way down, and still iced us. I think our skiers should spend more less time making out in the lodge (leave that to me, I am not going to France in 92) and more time on the white stuff outside.

Sad to say, some Olympians had time adapting to the way-North American way of life. The Mexican ski team was sent home early after they used their skis to smack light fixtures in the local bar, thinking they were pinatas.

The Antarctican team, made up of 3 scientists, 2 eskimos, a pilot who made a wrong calculation and a polar bear, were involved in a vicious brawl with the French during the Biathalon competition after a Frenchman took a shot at the bear. "Ugliest thing I have seen since Cindi Lauper played my country" said the guy with the thin mustache.

Terrorism was a major problem during the Olympic games as well, as Arab forces bombarded the US bobsled team with snowballs as they practiced for their run. In a reprehensible act the American hockey team was abducted by some frustrated tourists who demanded the directions to a decent nightspot in Calgary as ransom. Told there was no such spot and that no one wanted the team back anyway the defenseless players were turned over to Denis Potvin's hockey camp.

I dont know about you but I kind of feel sorry for those weak countries who try their best to win a medal, but come out looking stupid and pitiful instead. I think we should give them a fair shake (and me an excuse for a few more jokes) and introduce these new events so they'll have a chance to win something.

THE ROLLING DOWN THE SNOWY HILL COMPETITION - Everyones good at that. Think of it, the winners can go to the ultra challenging MAKING ANGELS IN THE SNOW COMPETITION. The finals can entail a frantic SNOWMAN or IGLOO BUILDING battle. We sure could have used some of those events this year ourselves.

I would also like to see some on-the-spot interviews, and mean on the spot! Can you imagine Al Trautwig skiing side by side with Zubriggin, trying to ask questions while trying not to hit the flags? How about Al Michaels poking around on the ice, jamming a mic in Chris Terreri's face? Give that guy a mask, he would probably do a better job in net.

By the way, I think its a good thing Africa's bid to host the Winter games was turned down. I dont think the Nigeria Tent-aseum could have held the masses expected for the speed-sandal shuffling.

No one's telling who put the wheels on the Japanese luge. The Japanese failed to impress, most likely too busy preparing for the Karate competition in the summer.

Oops, out of space. Thanks, and I'll see you in Hell.

TJ BROWN