tales from the stands of FedEx Field: now with more “FYITA guy”

’tis the season when our hero janklow’s most favorite person on earth (his grandmother) comes back from her summer vacation and we start going to some football games. here’s the backstory: my grandmother is a large Redskins fan. she has her season tickets and her jerseys and i’ve seen her take down a wall full of photographic family portraits to replace them with a massive Fathead depicting a Redskins helmet. she watches about four games a week on days she can’t go to a game, five games on weeks with Thursday games, and i believe that if you came into her house and insulted Darrell Green, she’d shoot you as remorselessly as she’d shoot suspected burglars and goats that i want to keep as pets.

oh, my grandmother totally hates goats
yes, she would shoot these goats. yes, even though they’re babies. no goats allowed at her house! she says they stink from urine or something.

but i digress. the point is more this: she and i go to games and i see these blocks of various non-Redskins fans, who i proceed to observe and then later make fun of, sometimes here on the internet. and now, let’s have some of that.

warning: there may be flashbacks to classic* posts going on here.

Cowboys: as much as i dislike the Cowboys, i will grant you this: it takes one devoted fan to buy season tickets to your rival’s stadium and then come to every game and root for whoever the Redskins are playing. plus, if Washington plays Philly or New York, no matter who wins, everyone walks outside and bonds by buying cheap t-shirts emblazoned with the legend “Dallas sucks, Jerry Jones swallows.” so, you know, that’s nice.

Eagles: sure, Raiders fans may stab you for coming to their stadium and rooting for the Chargers, but only Eagles fans will do hilarious and TOTALLY not over-referenced things like booing Santa and throwing batteries at players and the like. in my experience, they like to fight Redskins fans … but only the ones that are a) smaller than them and b) outnumbered by them. make up your own insulting joke about what that implies.

Giants: they’re not as hated as Cowboys fans or as violent as Eagles fans, but the Giants fans are easily more annoying – they get worked up early and talk more shit BEFORE the game than during it, regardless of who wins or loses or anything like that. they also bring out this father-son duo of Redskins fans who i believe to be the missing link between mankind and whatever amphibian L. Ron Hubbard believes grew into mankind, because they a) look like Ron Pearlman in Quest For Fire, b) look like Ron Pearlman in anything else (i mean, the dude’s one of my favorite actors, but LOOK AT HIM), and c) scream apelike gibberish and hurl food and what i believe to have been their feces at Giants fans. Giants fans, i will root for you guys to win a game if you will just take those assholes up to NYC and have someone shoot them to death. thanks in advance.

Redskins: okay, so i have a soft spot for them, but i also have a less-than-soft spot for the “riot kid” (from that August 2002 update), who looked like the pudgy kid from the Sandlot, though with the addition of a visor, and kept trying to convince me to “riot” with him if the Redskins lost. the high point would have been seeing him get shot by the police. there’s also a lot of pointless rednecks amongst the Redskins fanbase making “jailbird” jokes about the Ravens. look, guys, i GET your jokes, i just don’t want to hear them 13000 fucking times, okay?

slightly less tough than the riot starters in question

Ravens: at the most pointless attempt at a “rivalry” game ever (Redskins-Ravens), i did get a chance to see a small group of pudgy rednecks in Ravens jerseys and purple-tainted urban camo fatigue pants yelling “REDSKINS FANS ARE COCKSUCKERRRRSSS” down into a random crowd. here in the Baltimore area, we call this “classy.”

Dolphins: Dolphins fans, you guys behave pretty well, but let’s get this straight right now – make noise when your DEFENSE is on the field, quiet down when your OFFENSE is on the field. freaking out and yelling “GO FINS” because Redskins fans are trying to make noise for their defense’s benefit defeats the whole purpose. and, hey, no one thinks Dan Marino actually sucked. everyone just knows it makes you guys emotional.

49ers: sometimes, i go to a game and a fight breaks out, and everyone goes “WHOOO” and tries to see who was fighting where, and if the winner roots for the same team they do. usually, what happens is that either one side was out of line and gets escorted out, or a guy or two from both sides does. but the key is that the fight’s between opposing fans who went a little far with their shit-talking …except for the 49ers fans, who i once saw get into a huge brawl WITH EACH OTHER and then get tossed out. that’s when you realize that you’ve sunk a little low, guys.

Chargers: okay, i hate you all because, well, you think you’re better than the Raiders. however, one of your member did easily win the label of “worst fan of all time.” there’s really nothing i can do here other than quote this terrible tale of woe again (to some extent):

so, the week after i went and watched the Raiders came out here and won, i returned to FedEx Field to watch the Redskins lose to the Chargers. which is bad enough, but even better, i have now met the worst fan ever: the “fuck you in the ass guy” at FedEx Field.

…so we’re in the bathroom and there’s banter going on, and the guy in front of me remarks to a Chargers fan, with a big smile on his face, that the Redskins are going to win. at this point, the Redskins ARE winning (they would, of course, later lose in overtime). and “FYITA man” hears this and chimes in.

so, for the record, here’s the deal: when visiting fans go to a stadium, they can either a) banter good-naturedly and take as much shit as they give until the end of the game; or b) act like assholes. his selection?

FYITA man: “hey, man, fuck you, we’’e going to walk all over your Redskins!”
Redskins fan: “i don’t know, it’s not looking so great for the Chargers…” (accurate, because at the time, Brees was rattled as fuck)
FYITA man: “hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up and go in the stall and sit to piss, motherfucker, because the Chargers are going to fuck you in the ass!”
Redskins fan: (to the Redskins fan next to him) “i hate it when guys come here and try to be assholes.”
FYITA man: “get in the stall and shit semen, man, that’s what you guys will do because we’re going to fuck you in the ass, man, fuck you in the ass, the Chargers are fucking you in the ass today, there’s going to be ass fucking tonight when the Chargers are fucking you up in your ass, LT’s going to fuck your ass, man, he’s going to run in your ass and fuck your ass and there’s going to be fucking in your ass, man, fucking fucking in your ass when the Chargers are fucking your ass!”
Redskins fan: “………….”

seriously, this guy ranted about the Chargers “fucking you in the ass” so much and so long that it was creepy. it wasn’t foul, it wasn’t “gay,” it wasn’t excessive – it was just WRONG. because it wasn’t about the team proverbially fucking the other team in a metaphorical ass, it was … it was like a militantly homosexual filibuster trying to will a victory over the Redskins by summoning the spirits of the San Diego Superchargers to LITERALLY run a 52-man train and have anal sex with this one specific Redskins fan. i mean, if Quentin Jammer was to have run into that men’s room, slammed that Redskins fan into a urinal, pulled out his penis and FUCKED the guy, that Chargers fan would have been yelling “this is what i love, man, the Chargers fucking people in the ass, man, semen!”


i also think this is the single most vulgar post i have ever made on the internet.

slightly less tough than the riot starters in question
note: i selected Quentin Jammer for this joke because, in addition to him being a defender, his name also works well in a hilarious homosexual rape situation

yeah… so there’s really nothing i can add there except to say “unfortunately, that shit really happened.”


i’ve been to some other games here and there, but that’s basically what i’ve got for you all. i can’t help it that Panthers fans and Seahawks fans and whoever else out there is just boring and non-hilarious, now can i?

*classic, as in the ancient Latin word meaning “old posts from HOH that no one ever read.”

a celebration of the mustache and, to a lesser extent, Franz Joseph I

back in the day, there was a little song entitled “Ether,” in which a formerly-Nasty Nasir Jones makes several unkind remarks about one Shawn Carter, including the declaration that Mr. Carter can be described as “no-mustache-having.” now, quality of the song aside, it occurs to me that while this seems like a weak insult generally – i don’t have a mustache, i don’t WANT to have a mustache, and i know many people who fit into one or both of those categories – we might still want to take a moment to celebrate those of us who paused and said “fuck that, crank up the mustache factor to 11.”


sideburns plus mustaches equal EXCELLENCE!
it is widely believed that Burnside’s sideburns personally stopped over 50 Confederate rifle shots at the Battle of Antietam alone

Ambrose Burnside
admittedly, the historical record tells us that Burnside wasn’t much of a general: he was shoddy in the stuff you might have heard of, like Antietam (poor reconnaissance, forcing troops to be slaughtered on a bridge) and Fredericksburg (mismanaged assaults, enormous casualties), and downright terrible in things you may not have (Battle of the Crater: “everyone run into this giant hole and get shot in the face by the Confederacy!). but can you tell me that if you were Abraham Lincoln looking across your desk at THAT mustache, you wouldn’t have put him in command of thousands of armed men? blasphemy!

Franz Joseph I of Austria
i once read this book (A Nervous Splendor: Vienna, 1888-1889) because it was strongly recommended to me; initially put off by the subject material (would i like a book about Vienna? it was a mystery at the time), i waded into it and really enjoyed the read. but the most important thing i learned from the book was a full appreciation of Franz Joseph’s mustache. i now recommend the book to people with the following phrase: “there’s a pretty cool book by Morton with an AWESOME photo of Franz Joseph I’s mustache! also, it’s a good read as well.” looking above and tell me you wouldn’t read an entire book about that mustache alone.

even without serious sideburns, witness the mustache EXCELLENCE!
little-known fact: Kitchener once sliced a man’s throat from ear to ear in hand-to-hand combat with his mustache

Horatio Kitchener
Kitchener didn’t need to go the massive, theatrical route of some of the above mustaches, instead choosing to pick a basic but definitive style (handlebar mustache) and make it work to maximum efficiency. thousands of Britons fought and died in various wars (such as the Second Boer War and World War I) in order to defend his mustache from the predations of the Germans; it is widely believed that Wilhelm II had declared his intention to seize and wear Kitchener’s mustache without realizing how this would inflame British public opinion.

Logan Mankins
sometimes when the NFL draft rolls around, you feel a little cheated because your team doesn’t draft a player you would have liked them to; when Logan Mankins and his glorious facial hair went to the Patriots, i felt a deep sense of loss. “any young man,” i thought to myself, “with a mustache like that has a great future in this league.” it’s my personal theory that Belicheck might have hidden microphones and a video-recording crew in the 13.7 acres of real estate covered by Mankins’ mustache. however, it should be noted that no man with a mustache like THAT would ever cheat at football, so i must shoot my own theory down. take that, theory!

now, what could be more awesome than mustaches like these? ROBOTS with mustaches like these! discuss!

like a tiger defying the laws of gravity

this week on Operation Undeniable Victory: Forgotten Musical Gems of Yesteryear: “Don’t Stop Me Now.”

so, in order to talk about “Don’t Stop Me Now,” we have to talk about Queen.

the Works, indeed
if this is a collection of some of your band’s record covers, there may be trouble brewing

Queen is a really weird band, though generally all i need to support that claim is asking if you ever saw Freddie Mercury in his prime. still, we need look no further than the accessible song catalog: there’s the ridiculousness of the anthems to fat-bottomed girls – “Fat Bottomed Girls” (who make the rockin’ world go round) – and to bicycle racing – “Bicycle Race.” the latter, it’s worth noting, not only gives an additional shout-out to those aformentioned fat-bottomed girls (who’ll be riding today), but unlike “Fat Bottomed Girls,” diverges to other topics:

-Freddie Mercury seems to have issues with Spielberg and Lucas, or at least some of their most notable films, especially Star Wars;
-Freddie Mercury doesn’t believe in well-established fictional characters like Peter Pan and Superman;
-Freddie Mercury isn’t interested in being the president of America (because of a combination of the Vietnam War and the Watergate incident), so stop fucking asking him about it;
-Freddie Mercury REALLY likes bicycles. okay, that didn’t diverge at all.

Killer Queen, indeed
rare photos of Freddie Mercury in the most masculine outfit he would ever wear

and i’m not even going to talk about “Killer Queen,” which you might think is about how the music of Queen is “killer,” but actually seems to be about some fantastically female royalty who has the traits of Marie Antoinette, is “dynamite with a laser beam,” and, frankly, is probably the idealized image of what Freddie Mercury wishes he was: alluring, packing a laser, and man-servicing beyond belief. plus, these guys made a song about Flash Gordon for that 1980 movie that Max von Sydow was forced to act in at gunpoint.

then there’s the fact that these kinds of songs are paired with classic arena rock anthems* like “We Are The Champions” and “We Will Rock You.” you know them, you maybe once loved them, you heard them one thousand times, you maybe are a little tired of them, and you can’t imagine someone who pounded out the melancholy celebration of “i’ve had my share of sand kicked in my face/but i’ve come through” really, really, REALLY likes bicycle racing. and there’s also that “Under Pressure” thing that Vanilla Ice FINALLY turned into a hit song, and that “Bohemian Rhapsody” thing that was sassed by Mike Myers on film and then run into the ground by people across America in about 13 seconds. at least it remains as legitimately ridiculous as the above songs, albeit in a more popular form: everyone familiar with classic rock knows that Freddie Mercury’s just a poor boy, and that nobody loves him. they just didn’t know how much he loved bicycles.

so why are we talking about Queen if they’re so fucking nuts? because it’s the time of year that we overanalyze the most awesome of all Queen songs – “Don’t Stop Me Now.”

Don't Stop Me Now, indeed
for some reason, all i think of is “so, where’s the tiger?”

and by “awesome,” i mean “totally insane and probably really homoerotic.” really? really. but don’t take my word for it; let’s check it out.

Tonight I’m gonna have myself a real good time
I feel alive and the world it’s turning inside out Yeah!
I’m floating around in ecstasy
So don’t stop me now don’t stop me
‘Cause I’m having a good time having a good time

so far, this is pretty straightfoward stuff, though i personally don’t equate having a real good time with the world “turning inside out.” i’m also wary that this “floating around in ecstasy” involves exposure to HIV.

I’m a shooting star leaping through the skies
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity
I’m a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva
I’m gonna go go go
There’s no stopping me

shooting star leaping through the skies? reasonable. but then we immediately go to a tiger defying the laws of gravity, which only makes me think of some white Las Vegas tigers levitating JUST TO SPITE NATURE, and this Lady-Godiva-race-car concept. uh… yeah. is this car protesting tax laws, or at least naked?

I’m burning through the skies Yeah!
Two hundred degrees
That’s why they call me Mister Fahrenheit
I’m trav’ling at the speed of light
I wanna make a supersonic man of you

occasionally, Mercury will declare he wants to make a supersonic woman of, well, women; this seems in line with the typical work of an arena rock band. however, sometimes he wants to burn through the skies super-hot and make a man out of men. this is not what we’d call “subtle.”

Don’t stop me now I’m having such a good time
I’m having a ball don’t stop me now
If you wanna have a good time just give me a call
Don’t stop me now (‘Cause I’m having a good time)
Don’t stop me now (Yes I’m having a good time)
I don’t want to stop at all

standard stuff, though Mercury seems a little desperation for attention here. then again, that probably IS what being a rock star is all about.

I’m a rocket ship on my way to Mars
On a collision course
I am a satellite I’m out of control
I am a sex machine ready to reload
Like an atom bomb about to
Oh oh oh oh oh explode

okay, this is where the imagery breaks down for me. an atom bomb about to explode makes sense, and maybe even a rocket ship to Mars, but is it just me, or does he miss the TOTALLY blatant chance to be a sex machine “ready to UNLOAD?” so graphic that the song demands it. plus, being a satellite equates to being out of control somehow? really?

Don’t stop me don’t stop me don’t stop me
Hey hey hey!
Don’t stop me don’t stop me
Ooh ooh ooh (I like it)
Don’t stop me have a good time good time
Don’t stop me don’t stop me
Ooh ooh Alright

Don’t stop me now I’m having such a good time
I’m having a ball don’t stop me now
If you wanna have a good time
Just give me a call
Don’t stop me now (‘Cause I’m having a good time)
Don’t stop me now (Yes I’m having a good time)
I don’t wanna stop at all

La la la la laaaa
La la la la
La la laa laa laa laaa
La la laa la la la la la laaa hey!!

this is typically where we say “step your lyrics game up, Freddie.”

still, “Don’t Stop Me Now” is awesome and i recommend you check it out ASAP. next week, maybe we’ll talk about Rockwell’s “Somebody’s Watching Me.” CLASSIC MATERIAL.

*”classic arena rock anthems” being an ancient Greek term meaning “songs that get intensely overplayed in arena settings.” seriously, i don’t need to hear “We Will Rock You” ever again. EVER AGAIN. just crank the volume on “Fat Bottomed Girls” and kick back and relax.

getting paper is optimal, even in country music

i know that some of you out there in Radio Land may think that, because i listen to a lot of rap music and talk about a lot of rap music and am a two-time breakdancing champion (88′, 91′) and co-captain of Team Blackout (which loves rap music), the only kind of music that i really CARE about is rap music. this is sort of true in terms of raw economics (as in, the last records i bought were by Talib Kweli and WC, neither of whom is a team of white dudes rocking guitars and/or keytars and/or those guitars that are, you know, double guitars?), but while i have learned many things from them (getting paper is optimal, snitches are not to be trusted for obvious reasons, white people took a long time to catch on to what the word “skeet” means), i have gained a lot of wisdom from all sorts of music. “like what,” you probably ask. well, don’t get so demanding, i was getting to that on this installment of:

(including rockabilly)

Presley, Cash and the good Reverend
while Johnny Cash prays for Jim Heath’s soul, Elvis Presley keeps the ladies as wet as October

Elvis Presley
lessons learned: tight gold clothes are a powerful weapon in the right hands (duh). the image of jail as Rape & Murder Central is a misconception spread by shows like Oz, since what’s mostly going on there is rocking (and maybe some rolling). the ghetto’s kind of a rough place to live. even good-looking, rich musicians have constant lady trouble… possibly because said ladies might be the devil in disguise! love causes high-temperature conditions.

Johnny Cash
lessons learned: don’t fuck with god, because even if you obey a temporal dress code that pleases him, he WILL wreck your whole program if you get out of line. take care to name your children well. prison’s kind of a rough place to be, but then so is the Vietnam War. once again, love causes high-temperature conditions. also, seriously, don’t get on god’s bad side.

the Reverend Horton Heat
lessons learned: keep your eyes peeled for loose women, as they are the cause of and solution to all of life’s problems! a heavy regimen of alcohol consumption is key to surviving the trials and tribulations of life (especially those involving loose women). place your trust in men named Jimbo, as they will never lead you astray. avoid late-night encounters with cowboys, as they can lead to … complications. also, cocaine is one path to immediate wealth, though this might require a trip to Dallas. hey, Reverend Horton Heat was blazing the coke rap trail before the internet hipsters even knew what hip was!

Earle, Van Zandt and the father of ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOOTBAAALL
Earle reveres Van Zandt, Van Zandt reveres sadness, Williams reveres morphine

Steve Earle
lessons learned: watch out for the government! but also, the government can equip you to run moonshine, or something like that. boy, it’s sure depressing to get executed or to see it happen all the time. shooting people is not without consequences. if you forget to come through for the ladies, uh, quick, write them a song to make up for it! also, don’t do heroin. and don’t do lots of heroin. and, hell, if you’re going to do it, i sure hope you’re not from Baltimore.

Townes Van Zandt
lessons learned: there’s some creepy shit going on in the mountains down south; watch yourself. have a little sympathy for dudes doing what they’ve got to do, even if it seems a little disreputable. sometimes, if you’re desperate for a necktie, a snake will do in a pinch, and it also looks badass. black-skinned women won’t do you wrong; yellow-haired women bring nothing but pain. also, covering Rolling Stones’ songs makes them better than ever before!

Hank Williams
lessons learned: country music is fucking DEPRESSING.

next week on “Valuable Lessons I Have Learned From: Insert Genre Of Music Here”: Heavy Metal. a sample:

what more is there to add here?

Three Inches Of Blood
lessons learned: orcs need to be destroyed!