On Saturday, Spencer and I took our dear friend Cardboard Jim Traber to the Medieval Fair of Norman. We figured this would be a lot like Cardboard Jim’s other travels. Show up, take pictures and not try to feel too ridiculous carrying around a life-sized cardboard cutout of Regular Jim Traber.
And then it happened.
Just a few minutes after we arrived at the Medieval Fair, and before we could even eat a Turkey leg, drink some Sarsaparilla or even buy Cardboard Jim his jester hat, we spotted a hefty figuring trudging through the food court. He was about 5′ 10,” hefty, and had a greased-down, Barry Melrose-style hair cut. He was being followed by an entourage of woman ranging between the ages of 18 – 50. It was really him. It was Regular Jim Traber.
Without hesitation, we walked towards The Man, The Myth, The Ego and asked if he would like to take a photograph with Cardboard Jim. Perhaps fearing that this may cause the universe to collapse into itself, Regular Jim smiled, slightly raised and waved his left hand like he was telling a waitress he didn’t need any more coffee, and said something to the effect of “No thanks, fellas.” He then continued his march through the food court like nothing happened. Meanwhile, everyone in his family, including the lovely Jules, tried to pick up their jaws from the ground.
Yeah, I guess it was kind of anti-climactic. I figured that if we ever stumbled into Regular Jim at an event that he would chase us around like a Japanese pitcher or man carrying a donut. I didn’t think he’d blow us off like some bum asking for change in Bricktown.
Anyway, running into Cardboard Jim was odd, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing to happen at a place that makes us obscure local social bloggers feel cool and hip. See what we’re talking about and a score of other pictures from Cardboard Jim’s trip to the The Medieval Fair of Norman.
I thought when you reached that level in your professional life when your name was on the front door and the top of the letterhead, you could play more golf, drink more small batch, download more porn, and write witty commentary. I was wrong. But work wasn’t the only thing keeping me off my irregular article schedule. The above picture is a hint. And here’s another hint – one of those wasn’t present.
The Lady Bears of Baylor became the first men or women’s team in NCAA basketball history to win 40 games, completing an undefeated season by dominating the Lady Irish who Fight something to something Tuesday night. Dozens of people cared.
Prior to the game, Baylor star Britney Griner announced she would be returning to Waco for her senior season, passing on the opportunity to make thousands of dollars in the WNBA. On a related note, our nanny has decided to forgo an opportunity to be a teller at Weokie Credit Union in order to remain as our child’s nanny for 2012.
Earlier this week, the basketball blogs went nuts when the Thunder fired a Storm Chaser named Brent for participating in a cheesy rap video produced by our friend Zane Larue.
In case you haven’t seen it, here’s the video that got him fired:
As far as teams that Thunder fans probably already know to hate, the Memphis Grizzlies are pretty high on the list. The epic seven game Western Conference semi-final from last season cemented them as a rival. Then if history wasn’t enough, the Grizz came into the Peake on Monday and killed the buzz Oklahoma City was feeling during the Thunder’s six game winning streak that included wins over the Clippers, Heat, Lakers, and Bulls who are all high in the standings.
Media pundits who have been hemming and hawing over the Thunder’s chances at winning a title were suddenly hustling to move OKC up to the top of their “power rankings.” Then, Memphis who is fighting just to secure a playoff spot ends the run in a game at the Thunderdome. That was enough to make me hate the team irrationally. But here are some rational reasons:
Zach Randolph’s fat face
It actually has less to do with Randolph’s face being fat (although, come on, he’s being paid $15.2MM this year for his athletic ability, shouldn’t he take care of his, you know, athleticism) as what’s on that fat face. While he goes around manhandling opposing forwards with his manboobs, Randolph acts like referees are always screwing him. Let’s see, Zach, they let you get away with bull rushing a rebounder with position on you into the stands, but we are supposed to feel sorry for how they persecute you when they don’t call a foul simply because you missed your fade away jump shot.
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