long time no post

July 29, 2009

Did you guys know I’m a terrible blogger? Whoops now you know! It has been a while, and the following shit has happened:

a) everybody got hurt
b) you mean I have to cheer for that smirky French bastard now? Godspeed, Churchy.
c) who the fuck is Angel Berroa?
d) Daniel Murphy turned into a legit first baseman, too bad his bat can’t catch up to his defense (uhhhhh did you think we’d say that back in April?)
e) I would like to propose a television show called The Days of Our Mets or As The Mets Turn or something, is Susan Lucci available?

But hey, the Mets have won four in a row now, only 5.5 back in the Wild Card, sure ok. If Beltran and Reyes and Delgado come back before the season is over I will do five cartwheels in a row, you have my word.

The real reason for this post however is this:

Tuesday, during a Citi Field press conference, Mets players Daniel Murphy, Bobby Parnell, J.J. Putz, Omir Santos and Gary Sheffield unveiled The Players Choice Signature Series featuring jerseys, T-shirts and caps they designed exclusively for their fans, with each product expressing the personalities and attitudes of the individual players who designed them.

Oh FUN, let’s have a looksee at these fashions by athletes, because that is always a good idea!


Design By: John Maine
What It Expresses: I think I’m really edgy and cool but in reality I’m a huge fucking dork


Design By: Omir Santos
What It Expresses: You hit one game-winning homer off Jonathan Papelbon and it makes you think you’re Perkunas.


Design By: Bobby Parnell
What It Expresses: I have no imagination, how about an ax for no good reason? Cool.


Design By: Daniel Murphy
What It Expresses: I have no discernible personality, but I AM Irish, so…wooooo Dropkick Murphys pint o’Guinness Shane MacGowan potatoes!


Design By: Gary Sheffield
What It Expresses: I am probably on drugs, and now so are you.


Design By: J.J. Put
What It Expresses: I enjoy the oeuvre of Toby Keith.

And finally, Smear The Queer is proud to offer the limited edition design by David Wright:


apropos of nothing

August 7, 2008

Time for a fashion critique!

Joe Smith: Nice color and design of t-shirt, although whatever that is (a ship?) is a bit, um, garish. And those jeans wouldn’t look out of place at, like, Union Pool or something. Lastly, WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LEFT ARM?@!?!?!?1

David Wright: Form-fitting t-shirts are always a plus, especially with a well-defined torso. The faux-retro faded letter bullshit is so frat boy, but I guess it’s a decent enough design with which to whore Nike. Your watch is ridiculous. And cargo shorts are a crime against humanity.

Carlos Muniz: What in the good name of fuck. That better be a psych-metal band, otherwise you have absolutely no excuse.


June 23, 2008

To get away from the Mets for a moment (I’ll say this: good win last night, the maturation of Pelfrey is a beautiful thing to behold, only 3.5 back from the struggling Phillies, three series wins in a row…we Mets fans should welcome Jerry and the boys with much love tonight at Shea. Turn the page, etc. This feels like a new team, if only because that dour cloud known as Willie Randolph is gone. Also? I LOVE that now the starting pitchers stay on the mound to give the ball to the reliever. Shows solidarity), Wimbledon starts today!

To those of you who read this blog and skip the very infrequent tennis posts, let me say that baseball and tennis have been the two sports I’ve followed as close to religiously as possible my entire life. There was basketball until I couldn’t stand to watch my hometown Lakers (way to get blownout by BOSTON OF ALL TEAMS, OH MAH GAWD I LOST SO MANY BETS TO MASSHOLES THIS YEAR) in the mid-90s or so. But baseball and tennis are the twin pillars. I like to rationalize it as such: both involve incredible focus and strategy (hit this tiny ball coming at you at 100mph but you have to hit it in this finite space, now go!), both can be mentally draining, and both to me are incredibly aesthetically pleasing.

Stan set up a Wimbledon suicide pool with some of our friends, most of whom know fuck-all about tennis. A suicide is pool is kind of like filling out a March Madness bracket, except you pick one player to advance for each round, though you cannot use that player again. Which means you have to look at the HUGE DRAW and pick a valid winner for each match-up, until eventually you predict a winner. Pretty fun. I know no one cares, but here are my picks round by round.

1st rd: Lleyton Hewitt (only time I will ever root for him because he’s a fucking dick) & Venus Williams (she should make it to the finals and maybe win it, but you never know with her)
2nd rd: Mikhail Youzhny & Agnieska Radwanska
3rd rd: Stanislas Wawrinka & Lindsay Davenport (I highly predict to be booted out of both the mens and ladies pools right here)
4th rd: Andy Roddick & Jelena Jankovic
quarterfinals: Roger Federer (yes, I think he’ll lose in the semis) & Ana Ivanovic
semifinals: Novak Djokovic & Maria Sharapova
finals: Rafael Nadal & Serena Williams


Anyway, to celebrate Wimbledon Day 1, my favorite fashions, hilarious or otherwise:

Thankfully, she took off the coat once play started.

And now, goddam fucking gay-ass Roger Federer’s annual elicitation of eye-rolls.

WTF is that cardigan?!?! And your fucking manbag.

IS THAT A FUCKING WHITE BELT?!?!?!? Ugh. You pretentious douchehole.