Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Salute to Local Advertisers, Installment I: Mattress Mack Daddy

Surprising it is, we know, that Houston has arguably the most flamboyant base of self-advertising bidness men this side, even the other side, of the Mason-Dixon Line, especially in the furniture industry.

Jim "Mattress Mack" McIngvale, or Don Moneytree in the secret society of furniture store owners known as Act Like You Are Insane On TV and People Will Buy From You Holla, started with five grand in 1981 and has since built a $100 million a year empire. He manages to do so with only one store and for over 10 years has raked in more jack per square foot than any other furniture retailer in the country. Given the median weight of the city it's easy to see how a family of four can run through an overstuffed living room set in as little as 6 months thus providing a healthy market place for those upholstered products made abroad by the lowest bidder.

It pays to have Turrets

We'd be remissed not to mention what most tenured Houstonians know already which is that in light of the serious bank Mack hauls away with everyday, he is an avid philanthropist giving much of his time and loot to various charities and non-profits across the city in addition to supporting and promoting higher-browed affairs in tennis and horse racing. His cup runneth over and he aims for the less fortunate. Yes ma'am, that there is mighty neighborly of Mack, the Houston way.

So here's to you Mattress Mack - no longer will the public have to settle for the couch that isn't deep enough to hold Uncle Junior's humongous size 60 ass; no longer will they have to shop at more than one location in order to buy both electronics and a new most-proudly-priced-memory-foam-mattress out there; no longer will they have to stress not being able to buy what they can't afford in the first place; and no longer will they have to sit in an empty house for more than 12 hours because this is American and they shouldn't have to damnit...

because you can get them that couch big enough for Junior AND his hooker; you can perch the 60" plasma that never seems to fully focus on the wall AND get Daddy a bed he'll fall asleep on in less than 5 minutes so sound he won't even hear Junior choking her; you can coerce a bank to loan them money they don't have and worsen the credit crisis; and you can get it all in the home they also can't afford and will eventually be foreclosed on TODAY!!!!


Some facts obtained from Loren Steffy's 2006 chron.com column.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Looprivia Vol 1: Know your Hole!

Alright, the first muppet to answer all three questions correctly sits squarely akimbo to your very own lords at THE Houston concert of 2008.

October 14th. The Toyota Center. Your god and ours...

Neil Diamond
Please try not to lick the screen

The tickets alone are made from tight leather and rhinestones. They radiate an anxious fever and smell the way you'd expect angels to smell. After the concert, if you plant your ticket a tree grows that yields beautiful put poisonous fruit. Our girlfriends wanted to play naked volleyball with the tickets, but instead the tickets sat them down and explained the importance of fidelity and trust in a relationship.

- Looprivia Vol 1: Get in Your Hole!-
1. On any given Tuesday night, what is the ratio of lesbians to straight women at Roeder's Pub on Shep?
a. 1:1
b. 2:1
c. 5:1
d. 32:1

2. True or False. When the garage doors are open, can you smoke cigarettes inside Late Nite Pie?

3. At Kay's Lounge you can:
a. bring your own liquor.
b. contract a pretty aggressive Staph infection.
c. drink so much you go paralytic in the back of your friend's pickup truck, subsequently get taken to outside his girlfriend's house in Midtown and then robbed by a transient who we swear looked like Little Richard and Biz Markie had a baby in a tank top.
d. All are suitable answers.
We've seen destruction and it's neon blue.

First to comment correctly - GO!

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Classy Pawn

ClassyPawn is your Houston area buyer of all things classy. During this climate of economic instability, ClassyPawn specializes in paying you straight Franklins for your family heirlooms and upscale merchandise of all kinds.

Did you leverage equity and invest heavy in the American automobile industry?
Pending corporate fraud suit got you buying tickets to Venezuela?
Is the IRS about to seize that impressive vault of '72 Clos du Val?

Our certified professionals know a good vintage and we aren't afraid to replace your collection of chocolate undertones with untraceable bolivares fuertes.
Because there's no Chateau Margaux for inmate no. 41604-018 at the Federal Prison Camp in Pensacola, FL.

Is your wife coming back from her hen trips relaxed and covered in someone else's bronzer?
Does she smell like sweat and Aqua Velva after late business dinners?
Does she call you Todd when your name is Henry?

Bring that cheating bitch's shit on down to ClassyPawn where we will pay you ten cents on the dollar for slightly used, high end woman's apparel and accessories. Escada, Fendi, Gucci, D&G, St. John's, watches, shoes, purses, bring in all and let us decide which pantsuit you just burn.

She'll be wearing clothes from K-Mart and sleeping on her lover's futon while you're in Vegas sliding the cash from her mother's engagement ring into friendly G-strings.


ClassyPawn now barters in HUMAN ORGANS!
Did the Lebanese peasant-kidney turn out to be bovine?
Did you wake up with a tummy ache in a Los Cabos bathtub full of ice?
Not happy with you current retinas?

ClassyPawn will turn that low mileage '71 Daytona into a shiny, chilled liver. At ClassyPawn we guarantee the finest Christian organs you can find north of the Amazon.

How good do we think our supply of organs are? Well, we'll bet your life on it. Free delivery.

You can't put a price on three more years of kidney function, but ClassyPawn can!

Look for our new location on W. Alabama next to The Tasting Room and Fleming's for your classypawning convenience.

Investment Advice: Go Heavy On Oral

We, and by that I mean us Lords, are very concious of personal portfolios. Every day we check the markets, commodities, interest rates, and stay aware of the impending fuck ups the FED is going to make so we know when to jump ship. We seek only the finest in financial advice...

Old Dirty and I talked just today over lunch at Sparkle Burger (the best burger in Houston - no really - at Dowling and Leeland across from the most awesome taco joint, Brother's). He looked me in the eye and grunted mostly but managed to point out that, in addition to treasury bonds which are pretty safe and sound, the other chicken shit investment that is flying off the shelf is gold. That's right. Bling. And H-town is ripe with many a blinging cowboy and cowgirl of all shapes and sizes. Gold, however, comes with its issues. Primarily, where do you keep it? The answer can be seen in these urbanites head shots:

On your grill of course. What better way to display your investment sensibility and prowess than to smatter your chops with it? How often does your mouth get robbed? And best of all there is an infinite variety of oral wardrobe investment vehicles.

(classic gold and ice; also in silver; ice lovers)

(fetish lovers; just for kids)

As you can see it won't take you long to find the grill that's right for you. So what are you waiting on? There are many, many individuals who are way ahead of the curve on this one and are reaping the benefits of their investments today. Ask anyone of these people what they think is their best investment to date and what do you think they'll say?

Paul Wall, Flava Flav, & Chingo Bling

I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count. And these guys have already seen there gold and diamond encrusted fronts double or triple in value (Flav bought his in '88 yo). Hell, even Fluffy is gettin' in on the investment tip.

All we ask is that when your friends are admiring your new smile tell them where you got you the idea.

Monday, September 15, 2008

No thanks, Ray

So there was this storm that started in the gulf so large that people who get paid to watch weather gave it a name, Ike. These storms, called hurricanes, have 7 categories of strength and don't typically remain an actual hurricane by the time they get 50, 75, 100, 150 miles inland. They are then called tropical storms or tropical depressions to gay up the lingo (even the weather needs a diverse audience) and address the fact that even though they aren't hurricanes they can still send kittens through blocks of concrete.

Not Ike.

Ike decided to remain at Category 1 strength all the way through the heart of East Texas - the Piney Woods. A lovely piece of Texas that just the right number of people know about.

Now watch carefull Ray Nagin...

You Know the Mexicans are a "Can Do" Bunch

Get Some Tools for Yourself

Our Black People Practice Self Reliance

You are about to see how to run and repair a city and region that has catastrophe land on its face. And no, we don't need your help. Maybe the folks in the rest of your state will be allowed to contribute, but for the most part, we got it. We have enough pride in our city, our state, and ourselves to motivate us over the hill of overwhelmingness. NO, NO, NO, stay over there...now fuck up your city a little more...now sit down...stay. Good boy.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Kiss My Ass Ike

So it’s official. Houston is staring down the barrel of a Cat 3 and he’s about to give most of south Texas the bird. You know, keeping up foreign relations.

For context, that hair was rated as a Cat 6.

We were considering heading over to Costco to stock up on some provisions for the weekend, but we realized we’d rather not arm wrestle wandering vagrants from outside the Loop for that extra jar of cheese whiz and jumbo pack of giant pixi-sticks.

And if that weren't enough to deal with, the Horns'/Toothless Pigs' game has been moved to the 27th. We can tell you one place we will definitely not be on that date: Austin, Texas. Can you imagine what that city will be like on that weekend? ACL fest goers will be so high on R-kansas trailer park meth it will look like Hill Valley from Back to the Future II.

At least Amy Winehouse will finally feel at home. And if Bobby Petrino stumbles up to your door and offers you a nice little treat, just remember this:

4 Back - Yes We Can

12 of 13. 4 back in the Wild Card, chasing a Milwaukee team which has repeatedly taken a flaming claw hammer to the gland responsible for effective play. After the current series with the 'Buccos, the struggling Cubs come to town for a three game set, then series:
at Florida
at Pittsburgh
Florida is barely playing .500 ball. Pitt, Cincy and the Braves are all sweepable series. Pitching matchups and a complete schedule here.

Last night, Rice product and 3 year winner of the Houston Golden Chops Award for community service and excellence in the field of general unkeptness, Lance Berkman went 3 for 4 with a 3 run shot and 4 RBIs. The Astros surge is helping Lance's top 5 slugging numbers make a case for NL MVP in a mucky pool of candidates. Did we mention Lance has the power of levitation
We can't see any strings, because all we see is PUMA.

If you're like us, you'd be remissed to forget the last tragedy sent from across the Atlantic. A chaos of never seen epicness which still resonates through the guest rooms of Houston's middle class population. So many suffered, when they didn't have to.
Hurricane Ikea - We Remember!

If you haven't evacuated yet, get out and buy a couple $7 GA tickets to Minute Maid and support Lance, Hunter, Miggie, Wiggie and the rest of the hard charging Astros.

After all, they're winning for YOU. What have you done for them?

Monday, September 8, 2008

Married to College Football

For most of the bachelors in the Loop, football season is a time joy. A time to consume Banquet Beer and salty snacks. Although college football may punch you in the stomach every now and again, like when your team loses to Arkansas State, she never talks back to you.

That's what happens when you forget to wear your belt to the game.

She’s doesn’t whine that the outfit you’re wearing on the date makes you look like “You didn’t make any effort.” She’s a happy ending to a massage. She may not be able to make three sounds at once, but damn, she sure does come close.

As the sun rises every Saturday morning, and pours its golden beams in though our bedroom windows, we know when we stretch out our arms and hit the TV clicker, Herbie and Mel Brooks will undoubtedly be jerking each other off to decide which of the following three teams is the greatest thing since toaster struedel: Florida, Ohio State or USC. Scary we know, but it’s inevitable and it’s our passion.

It's our guaranteed hook-up after a Friday night of pouring Jager Bombs down our throats at Christian's Tailgate hoping that sloppy looking U of H law student would finally stumble into us after her Broadway-worthy rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart. Oh how we love thee College Gameday.

So we ask you this: Why do couples continue to schedule weddings on such a sacred day when there are so many other lovely weekends throughout the year? Why can’t you get married during the NBA playoffs or perhaps at any point during hockey season? Why must you insist on robbing us of the one constant thing in our life? Yes, it’s our fucking teddy bear.

Oh yeah, and there’s a hurricane named Ike headed our way. Thank goodness the Horns’ game is on ABC so when the power goes out we can sit in our apartment and take giant gulps of carbon-monoxide from the gas generator as it powers the 13-inch black and white TV with rabbit ears Grandma bequeathed us when she passed away in 1992. Yes, Colt can flex from the 5-yard line and penetrate the endzone. Pulled pork will be his appetizer before entering the Zeta house for dessert.

Obstacles? I think not.

Hit me again Ike, and put some stank on it!

There. We're done. We hope you’re looking forward to Saturday as much as we are. Oh and cheers to the groom! May you have a happy life with your bride and your castrated college footballs.

Friday, September 5, 2008

6 back

We work in sales (gas analysis, legal services, flesh, your mother's secrets, etc), so the concept of the "hockey stick" is one which sits firmly at the forefront of our lives. 90% of our business is done in the last three days of the month and thats how we like it. Our bosses hate us for it, but it makes us feel like corporate hero-gods. After all, Superman is Superman because he saves feral children seconds before the orphanage is engulfed in flames, not because he installs smoke detectors months prior. Janitors install smoke detectors, we save unwanted babies from conflagration. Get it.

You know who else habitually worships the quiet storm of the hockey stick?

The Astros (and Sade).

Like you, we've openly written off this year's team with the disgust one usually reserves for a pawy new stepfather, but lately we feel the tinge of burden to cast our good eye towards grainy Astro game projections at Star Pizza on Washington (chicken, feta, spinach and artichoke hearts - try to deny it, it wont let you).

6 back with three weeks to go gives us shakier feelings like Michael J Fox during a game of Operation
Yes. We know. Not cool.

But on an 8 game roll coupled with Milwaukee self medicating their case of Recent Success with a plunger enema, there are very wild notions running through our plumpy heads at present.

Basically, we're a sweep of Colorado away from filling our jacuzzi up with banana oil or cheese cake batter. And yes, you're invited.

Oh and there's this.

What's behind the surfboard you ask? Just a couple gold gloves and a career .344 slugging percentage, need more? There's no more.