I'll Tell You Mine If You Tell Me Yours

If you are not a fan of short work weeks, please raise your hand. Anyone? Anyone? I did not think so. A short work week makes the fine "folks" here at GameTime, TBD© extra happy, and when the chief is extra happy, it can only mean one thing: guilty pleasure confessional!

If you learn only one thing as an avid GameTime, TBD© reader, we hope it is this: honesty is the best policy (more on this in the links portion of this week's Link Dump). And I am sure you have grown to respect, or at least appreciate, our constant honesty with you. And since I all know you all have your own guilty pleasure or two, I figured I would share another one (or two) of mine with you. Now, I will be the first to admit that reality television sucks, is killing television, and should be done away with (for The Biggest Loser), but until that happens, I might as well enjoy some of the perks that come along with it. That is right my friends, this week's guilty pleasure confession is my secret love of The Real Housewives of Orange County. I know GameTime, TBD© just took a hit on your respectability scale, but please do not be too harsh. You know we are a sucker for California blonds, and this show is playing with a stacked deck. Think about it: more bleach than a Clorox plant, enough "flotation aides" to raise the Titanic, and a little dash of high school bitchy . . . it is unfair, I am only a man. So guilty is the pleasure I derive from RHOC [all innuendos (in-her-end-OHS . . . hehehe) aside], you will not find it on my DVR (thankfully Bravo airs it for about ten of its twenty-four broadcast hours per day) and I usually will not watch with anyone around (even my Better Half). But please rest assured that my guilty pleasure only goes as far as Orange County; I have no love for New York or Hot-lanta. Oh, and I am abnormally excited about tonight's release of Fired Up! (after all, Chumbawumba is the soundtrack to my life) . . . but that is a whole different can of worms for Dr. Finklestein and I to work through.

So, now that we got all that out of the way, we will move on to more important things, like more babes and sports. To help you get through the last few hours of your already shortened week, here are some things you might have missed:

• I am sure by now you have all heard about/seen the ugly brawl at an Alabama high school basketball game involving players and fans alike. So we start this week with a fresh reminder that sportsmanship is alive and well amongst the youth of our nation.
  
• While things with my Detroit Lions can not technically get any worse, it would be nice if they tried to make things better. Unfortunately, that appears to be too much to ask though.
• Under (click) Armor (clack) to protect the home of all NFL combine participants.
• A-Roid's story has more holes than a block of Swiss cheese (oh, snap son).
  
• Cole Hamels, my Better Half's new most favorite athlete.
• Apparently that name and age question is trickier than first thought.
• Come for the article, stay for the "conference-by-conference" breakdown cause, you know, there are only five conferences and they are all on the east coast.
• Golf just got a whole lot more uncompetitiver, yet somehow that is a good thing.
• Gentlemen, if you have forgotten the lessons taught to you by your mother, let this be a reminder to you.
• Cause, you know, you do not want your daughter thrown in the air by someone on drugs . . . until college (I don't even know what that means)
• Erin "Pageviews" Andrews flies first class; Stacey "Who?" Dales does not. Dales to fly coach to interviews.
  
• The hot topic around the sports blog-o-sphere this week? SI airbrushing out Danica Patrick's tramp stamp in the Swimsuit Issue . . . because, you know, it is about natural beauty.
• In horse racing news, second place is now the first winner (think about it).
  
• Oh, and a woman was banned from boxing because of her "performance enhancers".

"Flotation aides"? "Performance enhancers"? Someone is doing the Lord's work. I like to think that my little corner of the world-wide-web is also helping out, especially when it comes to making your Fridays a little more enjoyable. And that is why I have mixed some old and new classics for your weekly viewing pleasure:

• Off the junk, FTW (and a trip to the DL)!
• So, this Ovechkin guy, he is okay I guess.
• I do not claim to be an expert diver (unless you count the "flying squirrel" as a dive), but I am pretty sure this . . .
• . . . or this is not how you do it.
• From the vault: the truth comes out (and oldy but goody).

Have a great weekend everyone! Maybe we will see you out at Riviera Country Club.