Thursday, October 30, 2008

Couples Night: Kings of Leon

Who's going to tell us about the show on Tuesday?

Mr. Burnes and Mr. Wrath and the controlled vomit noise/train shearing sound of Kings of Leon. A breathtaking night for couples everywhere, we imagine it went a little like the clip above.

Happy Birthday Motherfucker!

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Colt McCoy - The Man, The Myth

There’s no denying the admiration we Lords have for Mr. McCoy, but we are going to try and personify the innate power overflowing out this unhuman beast we know as Colt-45. Put simply, he makes the impossible a given. Some may have heard of these myths, but we’ll try and recount a few for your reading blog pleasure:

(1) Colt devised the Dewey decimal system while eating a fruit roll-up in 2nd grade;

(2) Those scenes from the Matrix that you thought were CGI - that was actually Colt captured on camera in slow motion;

(3) The Members Only jacket was custom made for Colt. He is the only member;

Original design was "Stud's Only"
(4) There’s air, fire, earth and water, then there’s the fifth element, COLT;

(5) Colt went back to the future traveling at 88 miles-per-hour while carrying Marty and Doc on his back and pulling the broken-down Delorean.

(6) Every Cracker Jacks box that Colt opens has two prizes;

(7) Colt rescued baby Jessica from the well in Midland;

(8) You can’t ask Colt a knock-knock joke, because he always knows who’s there;

(9) Colt speaks seven languages, in tongues. Colt's Dad served on then governor George W. Bush’s security detail. His Dad has also played golf with Ben Crenshaw, twice. And Colt converted the entire nation of Peru to Coltism, I mean Christianity, by waving from a taxi on cross-city trip through Lima.; and

(10) The Eurythmics were dead wrong - sweet dreams are made of Colt.

'Colt had just another unbelievable performance. I've never seen anything like this.' — God on QB Colt McCoy

We have no doubt that the above-mentioned experiences and intangibles will push the Horns over the top this weekend in Lubbock to triumph over the Dread Pirate Leach. “As you wish,” Colt always says to the begging Longhorn fans requesting a decisive victory.

Lords of the Loop prediction for the weekend: PAIN!


E. Wrath, Second Lieutenant of LOTL

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


We called in cold today. Highs under 68 of the Fahrenheit variety frighten us to our very core. With Halloween approaching we thought we'd share some other nightmares we'd hope to never wake up to:

1. Tejano music coming from a slow moving Chevrolet
The Medusa Stare. All we remember is a discolored tan hoopty broadcasting Serena and then paralysis.

2. Pools of milky water
How did milk get in the street? Wait...that's not milk. Terror.

3. SkyNet
We were babysat by the Terminator films, which is why we refuse to be fooled by the toaster's color coding for light brown English muffins.
"It has a popcorn button, does it know?!"

4. Sandwiches from the gas station
The package is foggy. Does chicken salad have green specks in it? We don't know. We've always run from green specks, like we're doing right now.

5. Stafford, TX
Plunging property values and retention ponds score bigger on our Vertigo Index than high altitude skydiving or mercury milkshakes.

6. Helen Hunt
No explanation needed.

7. The old naked guy in the locker room
He's got his hands proudly on his hips and swinging a mess of genetailia that looks like an angry Ernest Hemingway.
Intimidatingly regal, but has many a dark tale to share.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Ten Reasons Why It’s Better to Live in Lubbutt, TX Than Inside the Loop

1) Graduating from High School is considered a great accomplishment;

2) Dressing in style is as easy as going to Ross Dress for Less. The GAP is also acceptable;

3) Dinner dates are limited to Outback Steakhouse, Chile’s and TGI Friday’s, which are all pretty practical places to go considering the economy. Man, we love fried stuff with cheese, especially when it is served with an entrĂ©e and a dessert for $12.99;

4) Never a shortage of pirate costumes for Halloween;

5) Will never be an Al Queda target – why would they want to destroy something that looks like their homeland?

6) Number one ranked training ground to become an Italian Transportation Engineer, a.k.a. pizza delivery boy;

7) No reason to feel “embarrassed” about that STD since everyone that has a driver’s license has at least four;

8) You have no problem with a restroom pit stop at Diamond Shamrock, because by comparison it’s a lot cleaner than your own bathroom;

9) Plenty of day care at the Junior prom;

and of course:

10) Texas Tech hotties

which might be the cause of this:

Lubbock or leave it? – We think we’ll take the Loop.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Salute to Local Advertisers, Installment II: The Finger Pointing Guy

It is with great regret we issue this post as one of the greatest local advertisers in history has apparently run his business into the ground. Rodney S. finger, the man that committed Einstein-like innovation for the less-than-$100-per-commercial world when he first gayly pointed at his home audience in conjunction with the equally diety-esque tag line "at your fingers", has decided to cut his losses.

Not lost of course is the gesture's pornish inuendo, which will live in infamy along with the debt of 95% of the customers.

Founded in 1927 by Sam Finger, by 2006 the Houston furniture retailer was among the top 50 furniture retailers in the country while pioneering the idea of staging his goods on a showroom floor. Little did he know that his vision birthed on the eve of the Great Depression would see a 50th birthday and proceed to peter out as the younger, fourth generation Rodney (or "the Rod" as his fellow furniture peddlers refer to him) got a little too big for his britches with schemes to double the size of his inventory. Great timing Rod. I suppose you were hoping to squeeze your share of the final drops of bad credit out there into your already impregnated pockets.

Now retired, we assume he will be pointing at his slicing Top Flights, 15-Couric turds, and supple underage country club lifeguards. We are confident, however, that he will continue to support the non-profit Northwest Assistance Ministries (NAM), Houston Furniture Bank, and the host of other charities he has given his time and miscellaneous cash to over the years as most successful Houstonians are known for. Peace out Fingers - your commercials sucked something fierce anyway.


Some facts obtained from Allison Wollam's 2006 Houston Business Journal article

Friday, October 17, 2008

Definitions: Comcastic

Comcastic (adj.)

(1) feculent, to be valued less than sewage.

(2) expresses the customer service received in a serial killer's hell.

(3) denotes an injury or pain, resulting from nude cactus wresting under a lime juice waterfall.

(4) characterizes a species of Tanzanian water bird which both consumes sustenance and defecates from the same orifice.

From the Italian root comcastino meaning "hand rape."

See also comcasting (v. eating, digesting and ultimately passing a masonry brick), comcasm (n. the coma one receives from too much enema solution), comcastally (adv. work performed in a such a manner as to make things twice as bad) and comcast (n. an infected second anus).

Thursday, October 16, 2008

None of the Above!

As we inch closer to the inevitable presidential election in the first week of November and we cull through the myriad of heart-felt hollow promises the desperate candidates offer to the people of America. Will we be looking toward a more preferable path as we begin the New Year? We at the Loop have no political affiliation. No affection for one candidate in particular. The only thing a presidential election is really good for is to oust the refuse from the ivory house on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Like you, we’re not sure if it’s better to cast our ballot for a terrorist-loving megalomaniac who may not have even been born on U.S. soil or an octogenarian that has spent more time in a Vietnamese-torture camp than he has in front of a computer. Then of course, there’s also the 74% chance that Frankencain will drop dead within the first 45 second after one of the Whitehouse interns slips a Viagra tablet into his morning Mochachino to consider.

Before we know it, we'll be dealing with a Vice President succeeding to office with about as much foreign policy as a greenhorn from Deadliest Catch. Yes, we know you can see Russia from your backyard, but could you imagine what the U.N Security Counsel would do to a former Ms. America behind closed doors? Not to worry. If for some reason another tragedy should befall the country and Ms. Palin was misplaced, the Elephants already have a back-up plan, so we doubt you’d even notice that the Alaskan was missing. Ever seen the movie Dave with Kevin Klein? Let me give you a hint, this movie is the “contingency plan”. For a glimpse into what is potentially forthcoming please see below:

Thank God for closed captioning.

In sum, when you think about pulling that lever on the first Tuesday of November let us recommend the wise advice Montgomery Brewster offered us in the 80s cult-classic, Brewster’s Millions:

Cheers to adding another trillion dollars of debt over the next four years and to hoping the next invasion target is Canada!

Got oil, eh?

Thursday, October 9, 2008

The Rise of the Houston Jabroni

Jabroni (n) – derived from Jabronious douchebagorous

Language of origin – slang

(1) A nocturnal young man, often overly-tanned and tattooed, who chooses to wear sunglasses in dimly lit places and men’s jewelry and exudes much unneeded attitude in effort to feign an elevated place in society.

For some time now, we at the Loop have become greatly concerned about the plague that has recently come upon us, namely the arrival of the Jabroni to the Houston area. Many ask, “What exactly is a Jabroni?” Well if it isn’t clear from the above-provided definition, let me provide you with demonstrative Exhibit A:

For a full explanation, click on the video below – if you dare:

He's right, Lloyd Carr is a fucking Jabroni.

What is the origin of such a creature? Many believe that the source of this feral beast can be traced back to the upper downtown area of none other than the pretentious city to north of us, Dallas. Our concern here is that this depraved creature will attempt to alter the night life we have come to know and love in Houston. You may say, what’s the trepidation here? Well, before we know it, Jabroni gang wars will cause the undesirable spilling of hair product and Axe body spray into our beloved streets. At will, Jabronis will steal our women with their impressive calf implants and 3 series BMWs. Sure, they may only be brave enough to venture into Midtown at this point, but what’s next? Upper Kirby? The Heights? Can you imagine what a gaggle of Jabronis would do at The Tasting Room on a Friday night? That’s right – pretty soon they’ll be encouraging everyone that it’s OK to mix that $48 bottle of Pinot Noir with a little Red Bull – what’s the harm, you say? And it gives you a little kick. Pretty soon we are all Jabroni clones accepting that men shouldn't be embarrased to wear mascara and True Religion jeans. And we'll all have "nicknames" like Val and C.J. endeavoring to entice young ladies back to our apartment for an Irish Haystack. They might have credit card debt larger than some Eastern European countries, but real Jabronis know that spending that $200 they never had on t-shirt from Neiman Marcus was worth it. Otherwise, that inebriated community college student wouldn't have ever spotted them in the bar, let alone agree to that spontaneous hand job in the girl's bathroom at the Drake.

Who say’s it’s not cool to talk shit or start a fight with a guy just because you thought he looked at you funny? Not we, say the Jabronis. Well, we will no longer support such a movement. We are hereby throwing our resources into halting this tidal wave of ridiculousness by boycotting the following establishments, which are known breeding grounds of Jabroni gang activity: The Roof, Citizen Lounge, and Red Door.
No longer will we have to worry about catching a fleeting glimpse of an inappropriate male tramp stamp, an arm band tattoo, or a strategically tilted baseball cap. Free of thumb rings, Jager bombs, and popped collars we will be.

Should you or any of your friends, come across a Jabroni outside of the aforementioned establishments, please immediately call 9-1-1 and report this activity to the proper authorities. We can halt this pestilence, if we work together.

Lords of the Loop
Promoters of a Jabroni Free World