In the wee early days of CLSL I came on here and professed my mad crush on NBC’s Friday Night Lights. This time around, be prepared for a full on slobbery make-out session. Because the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences finally got their heads out of their self-absorbed and politically misguided asses and gave it some due.

Adopt me, please!

Coach and Mrs. Coach got Emmy noms today. That made today a good, good day in Dillon country.

For the record, I watch a LOT of TV. People ask me what shows I watch and I have to go by day of the week. And I still lose track. I like to use the fact I’m in the entertainment industry as an excuse, but really, I just love TV and I’m not ashamed. I love coming home with nothing to do, getting into jammies and snuggle up on the couch with a cocktail or glass of wine and the DVR busting at the seems. Although I love a lot of shows (Mad Men, Modern Family, Entourage to name a few…), I will only take a bullet for one show. Friday Night Lights.

I started watching this show after I first moved to Los Angeles at the urging of two of my guy friends. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Pre-football season that year, catching up on past seasons of FNL was my home away from home. This show IS Texas. It looks like it, it sounds like it…it even tastes like it. It had me wishing to tattoo TEXAS FOREVER on my rear end.

It specifically embodies high school football in Texas. It is a religion. When you’re in high school, on a Friday night in the fall, whether 100 degrees or snowing, you’re suiting up on the field, on the sidelines with pom poms, in the stands with a trumpet or wearing a drill team uniform, or your just there to watch. Regardless of why you’re there…you’re there. There is a joke in some towns that property values go up the closer you are to the high school football field.

But you don’t have to be a football fan of any shape or size to get this show. That is just how it’s Texasness sucked me in to begin with. Above all else, this show is…it’s REAL. I triple dog dare you to get where we’re currently at in the series without thinking that Connie Britton (Mrs. Coach) and Kyle Chandler (Coach) aren’t a real couple. In my brain, there is a cozy house in the middle of West Texas with “Welcome to the Taylors” written on the doorstep, home of a high school principal and a high school football coach. You can visibly SEE the chemistry between these two…and it’s gorgeous.

I dare the ladies not to the fall in love with Riggins, the guys not to fall for Lyla. I dare everyone not to get caught up in Julie and Matt’s aura of first love. Right now I dare everyone not to want to go out and buy a Dillon East Vince Howard jersey. I dare you not to sit down and have an anxiety attack before each show.

Most of all, I dare you not to find that its addictiveness and AWESOMENESS are palpable. I dare you not to believe clear eyes and full hearts can’t lose.

P.S. another good post about the nod, from one of my Twitter followers, here.

I caused a stir with something I said in my last post and even though I don’t have to clarify, I will for the hell of it. I’m sweet that way. The whole analogy of “my taste in teams is much like my taste in guys…” is NOTHING AGAINST the guys I’ve been in any sort of relationship with. People are who they are. And after all, there were reasons I liked them all in the first place and reasons I can’t get over a few. Aside from my lunacy. Teams and boys can break my heart over and over again and I ridiculously come back for more. Eventually one of my teams will be amazing enough to win me another championship and some guy will be awesome enough to never let me down. So that comment was totally me being hard on myself  and my patterns because, trust me, that’s what I do best.

Moving on…back in December I discovered how entertaining the search terms that lead people to this blog are in Turn me inside out and learn me. Since I took a stupidly long hiatus, I have some catching up to do. Oh, but it’s been worth the wait…

1. The Top 5 search terms: Jamie Langenbrunner, hockey room, Miles Austin, trying to find my way back home and Petr Buzek.

Jamie Langenbrunner I get. Hockey room I kinda get. Miles Austin is the obvious all time search term leader at CLSL. This will come as a surprise to absolutely no one. Not even a noob. “Miles Austin girlfried” is actually in the top 20. Ladies, I have no idea if he has a girlfriend and I don’t care as long as he keeps catching the ball and doesn’t change his eye color. “Trying to find my way back home” are idiots looking for song lyrics, why they click on a sports blog I have no idea. But the one that leaves me absolutely dumbfounded is Petr Buzek. If you’re Googling Petr Buzek, dude, introduce yourself. I refuse to believe anyone outside of Kalamazoo and myself remember and give a crap who he is. Unless…he’s Googling himself. In that case, well, that’s another discussion all together.

PB

Funny enough, I just did a Google image search for Petr and two pictures of me came up. Huh. He just thought he could get away from me by moving back to the Czech Republic and retiring!

(edit: also whilst searching for a picture to use in this post, I came across a video interview with him from last year. This is the first thing I’ve seen with him for over six years. If I miss 14 typos before I post this…you now know why, as the 18 y ear-old in me died a little and I am ruined).

2. Burbank sports bar, The Office Bar and Grill, sports bars in LA, etc.

Several searches for sports bars lead people here. In case you pop upon this post first, I reviewed several Los Angeles area sports bars here in She don’t mean nothing – she’s just having fun. I’m kinda slacking in this department. But have no fear, football season starts in less than two months. So my alocholism and hot wing addictions are sure to kick back in.

3. ” hot girl cowboys game”

I don’t even know where to begin. First of all, this doesn’t make sense grammatically. Second of all, this just doesn’t make COMMON SENSE. Hey that hot girl who sat down the row from me at the Bengals game, or that hot girl I saw on TV during the Ravens game…I bet I can Google her!

No. You can’t.

4. “jamie langenbrunner nude”

This came up (no pun intended) in the first search term post as well and it doesn’t seem to be stopping. Which, ew. For the record I never mention Langenbrunner nude EVER.

5. “sport bars in los angeles for cowboy fan”

Yankee Doodles on Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. Every game. We are the cat’s pyjamas.

6. “how to dress like Tim Riggins”

Oh, Timmy Riggins

This is probably my favorite search term EVER. Absolutely fabulous. I even tweeted about it. Here’s my question, do you actually watch Friday Night Lights? (If you don’t, YOU SHOULD) Because if you do, you’d know to just crawl out of bed looking all morning after tussled and hot, throw on week old jeans and a flannel shirt half buttoned and you’re good to go. Instant chick manget, that 33.

And brace yourself for not so lucky number seven…

7. “gay men hockey players s**king d**k in locker room”

Um…

Yeah.

Random P.S. Speaking of relationship nonsense, I’ve been asked to guest blog over at Excuse My Nonsense. This site is owned and operated by one of my best friends and examines the lives and insanity of single ladies knocking on the door 0f 30. It’s like a younger Sex and the City, but takes place in New York, Dallas and Los Angeles, with too many pet dogs, no designer shoes and not enough sleeping around. My first post can be found here, When I grow up.

So both of my teams suck right now. It hurts bad. So bad. Please note that I know I’m spoiled. Luckily, the Stars had five days off (and beat beat those nasty birds down at The Pond last night, which is good because it was their first game within the division) and the Cowboys are on a much needed bye this weekend (and I will be on a much needed No Sports Bars on Sunday break). I do hope all players get rested, recovered, refreshed, laid, drunk, fixed…whatever it takes to get MY LIFE back on track. Because, after all, this is about me.

The schedule tells me the Giants and Eagles play this weekend. Whoever wins, I lose. Sigh.

Me and Cathalee

In the spirit of being optimistic and remembering the somewhat good times, I am finally posting pictures of the Cowboys/Bengals game I went to while in Dallas last month. My last game in Texas Stadium. And although it should’ve been a blowout (and wasn’t), was the second game where things started looking…off and I was exhausted as hell from two nights of drinking my way through my high school reunion, it was WONDERFUL. Remember the last TD where the ball went through my boyfriend’s Miles Austin’s hands right into Patrick Crayton’s in the end zone? That was our corner, I was right above it. It was AMAZING. The Bengals fan behind me goes “you’ve got to be f*cking kidding me.” I told my friend Eric this over text, to which he responds “turn around and go ‘you know this is Texas Stadium, right? The hole in the ceiling? So God can watch .’”

And so humble, too.

Thoughts about the Texas Stadium crowd: I didn’t know so much white trash was allowed to convene in one place; the best taunt goes to the dude in front of us who kept yelling out “a Bengal tiger is a gay tiger”; and the best pick-up line goes to the rather drunk fella (seriously, he was falling asleep sitting up, halfway through the 3rd quarter) sitting on the other side of my friend Cathalee, who told her her glasses were hot and made her look “specstual”. Can’t make that up, kids.

Cathalee’s camera pretty much rules, by the way. Some of these pictures look like I could reach out and slap Romo. Which, lately…

Anyway, enjoy. And P.S. I hate you NFL Network. Apparently you’re just too good for me and my cable. Bloody DirecTV, with its fancy NFL and NHL Networks and having the monopoly on Tim Riggins until January. Whatever.

P.P.S What is going on here? Greece is stealing basketball players (which reminds me, must follow basketball) and Russia is stealing hockey players? I’ve been trying to steal hockey players for years…glad someone figured it out.

..Continue reading..

In which I give my thoughts on the NFL season thus far, she’s a beauty. The Boys will get their own personal love letter later, you knew it was coming. Until then…

1. Let’s get our priorities straight and start off by saying I’m less than three points out of first place in my fantasy league. I understand we’re only going into week three, but I don’t give a rat’s ass. I’m the only girl in a league with 16 teams and I don’t like to play if I can’t win…so every week counts. Every point counts. (Which means I need a Come to Jesus with Fred Taylor and Wes Welker right now). I’d have a secure grip on first had I started Aaron Rodgers in week one. Who might I add, I took in in the 7th round, 105th overall because I knew homeboy had something to prove this season. Suck it, boys.

But no, I woke up on First Football Sunday thinking I needed to change my starting QB to Carson Palmer (quit laughing, ass holes). I now have a rule “No Damn Changes on Sunday”, only exceptions are for confirmed injuries or insider info. Now having said that, Palmer needs a good kick in the gonads. Maybe when the Bengals visit Dallas in a couple of weeks D-Ware can give him a rousing rendition of Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes. Cause seriously, dude is having problems locating any body part or physical function applicable to the football field.

2. Speaking of heads, I’m worried about Vince Young. Every jerk has an opinion on this subject, but I have to say (and maybe this is the estrogen speaking), there is a serious concern here. It seems to me he has established mental issues outside of the pressure of being a starting QB in the NFL. And I hope to god his agent and coaches aren’t denying there’s a problem as much in private as they are publicly. I’ve become increasingly aware of how important mental health is lately and you can’t act a fool with it. If he needs help, PLEASE get the kid some help. Listen to his Mama, Mama knows best. And I encourage him to speak openly about it when/if he feels like it…he could be of service and an inspiration to many young people out there suffering in silence.

3. Speaking of, ahem, heads…I’m not so worried as I am laughing at Chris Cooley. Don’t blog in the nude, kids. And certainly don’t take pictures of playbooks on your lap while you’re blogging in the nude. But if you INSIST, take a good look at those pictures before posting. It’s not hard (pun not intended).

4. Payback is a 6-foot, 250 pound, lady bearded bitch. I just shake my head every time I think about The ACL Tear Heard Around the World. I admit I hold a lot of grudges, it’s not healthy…but I can produce a limited amount of sportsmanlike behavior on occasion and I never like to see a season ending injury happen to any athlete. Albeit a cocky bastard. But I feel like, in the grand scheme of things, this was the universe giving Bill Belichick a big, fat middle finger. And OH MY GOD if feels so good. Spank me again, spank me harder sort of good.

The hang up is I see Boston fans as New Money. And Dallas fans? We’re Old Money. And traditionally speaking Old Money turns up its nose at New Money (for you Dallasites, we’re HP…Boston is UP, you get what I mean). I just don’t like ‘em. I read on another blog that there was some little punk ass kid in Boston with a sign that read something akin to I’m 9 years-old and I’ve been to six [championship] parades. Know what? Tom Brady has that kid to thank for his couch potato status.

The only team in Boston I like is the Bruins. And I like that Boston all of the sudden remembered they had a hockey team once THEY MADE THE PLAYOFFS this year.

5. Oh how the mighty have fallen. Remember last year when Collinsworth and all the the commentators were geting hard-ons and making out with the AFC for their never to be outdone superiority? Ha. HA I say. Hope your bandwagons to the NFC didn’t hit too many red lights on the way.

6. Random thoughts. Arizona is 2-0? Really? And, um, I thought the Browns were going to be…decent? And if I was Ed Hochuli I’d retire…now. Of course I didn’t see it all go down myself. I have a tendency to fall asleep during games I don’t have any personal vested interest in (despite my love for the game…it’s the Chargers, ugh).

7. Last but not least…13 days until the return of Friday Night Lights. I’d leave the light on for Tim Riggins any night of the week.