Watch What You Say . . .

. . . to The Chief, otherwise you might end up as the centerpiece of GameTime, TBD©'s weekly Link Dump introduction. It is the day before Halloween; a day to rejoice in the upcoming slew of slightly to moderately-intoxicated college and young professional women who will throw all signs of normal decency to the wind. A day when women to let out their inner-skank for one night of glory. Who knew a slutty [insert profession here] could look so good? We could have spent the introduction regaling in the greatness that is Halloween . . . but no. Instead, we have to spend it putting someone in their place.

When a guy starts dating a new girl, there is one moment we all fear: meeting her friends. I believe this moment ranks higher than, say, going to the first family gathering or having her mother call your dorm room at 8:00 a.m. on a weekday morning trying to track her daughter down (not that I would know how that feels . . .). For a guy, meeting the friends is never easy because we know, as soon as we leave, we are going to be analyzed in more ways than you ever thought possible. Not even a coroner will dissect us as thoroughly as her friends are about to. In some strange way, it is her friends that will decide whether your relationship is merely a trade deadline acquisition or a long-term contract extension. But here is what the women seldom understand: as important of role as your friends play in deciding whether we are a keeper, your friends help us decide if you are a keeper because, if we can not stand your friends, we will never want them around, and that is probably a deal breaker.

I got lucky. My Better Half has some pretty spectacular friends that I have really gotten to know and call friends of my own now (I promise, I did not do anything wrong last night and I am not in trouble). Sure, she had her share of nut-job friends, but they were nice enough to weed themselves out over time. But her closest friends, BFF (really girls? is that best you could do?), Anime (what? she lives in Japan . . .) Fitty Cent (old joke) COW (sorry A, blame the Better Half, she wanted everyone to know you're a citizen of the world, so you get COW), and Q (no, not that Q) have become an equally important part of my life (marriage, go figure . . . just kidding . . . but seriously . . .). I have been realizing just how close I have gotten to some of My Better Half's friends more recently as Q and I started up a friendly back-and-forth regarding my Dodgers and her newly-beloved Phillies. Since I am not that big of baseball fan, it was all in good fun. I even went so far as to say (actual text) "even though I hate the Yankees, I hope the Phillies lose [Game 1]". Well that did not go so well for me, and that is when things got taken too far. In what I am hoping was only a momentary lapse of judgment, Q did the unthinkable: see attacked the Los Angeles Kings [*dun, dun, dunnnnnnnn*]. The fair-weathered Philadelphia fan (that's right, she's a bay area transplant . . . she sold out her bay-area teams for the greener pastures in Philly . . . once the teams started winning . . . convenient) went and got personal. Can you even name half the Phillies line-up? Do you know who the Eagles play on Sunday? Do you even know how long periods are in a hockey game? I will give you a hint: less than five days. You call yourself a fan? I just hope there was enough room on the bandwagon for you to get a comfortable seat. Who's your daddy now, Q?

Whoa, sorry about that; might have gotten a little carried away right there. But let this be a lesson to all you out there. Tread lightly when dealing with the Chief. There is a reason the old saying "there's a competition and [the Chief's] in it" came along. He rarely lets someone get the better of him. You have been warned, Q. And no, I do not know if one day we can be friends Q. Buts that is mostly because I do not know how you are going to feel when the Yankees win the World Series, when the Giants beat the Eagles on Sunday (but Donovan will still have a good game . . . my Fantasy Football season is depending on it), and when my Kings trounce "your" Flyers on November 18th. Oops . . . it got away from me again. While I take a breather and try to cool myself down, here are some things you might have missed:

• Marisa Miller + $3 million bra = win.
• In case you live in a box and have not heard, this lady offered sex for World Series tickets. Where is the harm in that?
• Nobody bites Tim Wakefield's wife (*googling Wakefield's wife* . . . hello you in the middle) and lives to tell about it. NOBODY!
• The end of the aluminum bat is near.
• After discovering the economy had grown 3.5% in the third quarter, Congress decided there was nothing else left to fix with the country and moved on to more important things, like the NFL.
• The NBA put the kibosh on Tim Donaghy's book. But that does not stop Deadspin from having excerpts.
• Remember in 1999 when Rick Pitino said Antoine Walker would never have to worry about money again? Just add that to the list of things Pitino got wrong in Boston.
• A revelation no one was surprised by.
  
• Raise your hand if you have never used the "I got really drunk and don't remember what happened" excuse. Anyone? I did not think so.
• Lost by a thread . . . literally.
• "It was an innocent mistake. [Male] Parents have been very understanding."

Alright, things seemed to have calmed down a little. It looks like the worst is behind us . . . for the time being. But let us not focus on the negative. Let us focus on the positive: tomorrow is Halloween and that means half-naked women. We are in a good mood today and we want to make sure you are too. So we are heavy on the videos for your viewing enjoyment today. You. Are. Welcome.

• Anvil launching, as cool as it sounds.
• The BCS rankings are back . . . and so are the chimps: week1 and week 2.
• Melissa Joan Hart learns the hard way (that's what she said . . . ba-ZING!) you do not mess with Jimmy Kimmel.
• Double your pleasure, double your [face-plant] fun.
• Seriously Japan, what did the Miami Dolphins ever do to you?
• One word: FAIL.
• They call me Mister Understood because no one understands me.

Have a great weekend everyone!