So Long, Cheaters

 
USC icon

The Trojan Family honors and respects the USC sporting careers of those persons whose actions did not compromise their athletic program or the opportunities of future USC student-athletes. Accordingly, I have instructed the senior vice president for administration to remove athletic jerseys and murals displayed in recognition of O.J. Mayo and Reggie Bush by mid-August — before the incoming class of students moves on campus –from Heritage Hall, the Galen Center, and the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. The university will also return Mr. Bush’s 2005 Heisman Trophy to the Heisman Trophy Trust in August.

— USC President-elect Max Nikias

I’m Easily Annoyed

 

I’m easily annoyed. My wife knows I’m easily annoyed and that one of the things that really annoys me is when people ask me to fix something that isn’t really broken.

So when she asks me to fix a problem with her browser and I close it, reopen it and it works fine, she exclaims, “It’s scared of you honey! The King of IT! It sees you coming and it’s afraid to not work!”

That’s good talking. I couldn’t even get mad after that.

P.S. I just thought of Mel Gibson for some reason.

To clarify, I’m not easily annoyed like Mel Gibson. He’s off the charts, like a fire-breathing dragon.

I’m more like “doesn’t suffer fools gladly, especially in his own house.”

EppsNet at the Movies: Breakfast at Tiffany’s

 
Breakfast at Tiffany's

My wife loved this movie. She says Audrey Hepburn is the most beautiful woman who ever lived. She loves “Moon River.” She wants to move to New York because it looks so wonderful. She gives the film five stars.

“What’s your rating?” she asks me.

I was going to deduct a star for George Peppard’s mediocre performance, but after hearing her rave review, I couldn’t do it.

“I give it five stars too, honey,” I said.

The ESPYs Were Funny — 12 Years Ago

 

Did you see the ESPYs tonight? Me neither, but Deadspin has a video of Norm McDonald’s monologue from the 1998 ESPYs.

To give you an idea:

I saw Jerry Jones backstage. He said, “We’ve got to get back to what made the Cowboys great. Strippers and crack.”

The camera goes to Charles Woodson and McDonald congratulates him on winning the Heisman Trophy.

First defensive player to win the Heisman. That’s something they can never take away from you. Unless you kill your wife and a waiter.

I Had a Terrible Day

 

I had a terrible day. I don’t want to tell you why because I don’t want to upset you. If I tell you, it will upset you.

Oh all right, I’ll tell you . . .

I was driving to work this morning going south on Moulton Parkway when I saw a small animal in the lane ahead of me. I couldn’t tell what it was from a distance but as I got closer I could see that it was a turtle.

His shell was about six inches in diameter, about the size of a large pancake or a mid-sized tortilla, and as I drove around him he was lifting his right front foot and getting ready to take a step in an east-to-west direction.

Moulton is six lanes across at that point. The turtle had already miraculously crossed three-and-a-half of them but he seemed to me to be a hopeless underdog against the morning commuter traffic and I resolved that if possible I would save his life by getting him out of the street.

I drove to the next intersection — no U-turn allowed, so I turned right, made a U-turn back to the intersection and waited for the left turn signal.

It was a long signal.

As I waited, I thought about what I would do with the turtle if I could get him out of the road. Setting him on the sidewalk didn’t seem to make much sense. He might walk right back into the street.

I could take him to a nice pond but what if he had family living near Moulton? He would miss his family and they would never know what happened to him.

Should I turn him over to the county Animal Control Service?

The signal changed and as you’ve probably guessed, I never had to make the decision.

The turtle had made it across five-and-a-half lanes. The good news is that he was crushed cleanly, which is a better death than, say, dying slowly in an oil spill.

Like Tony Soprano, he never knew what hit him, just an ecstatic soundless expansion of a pinpoint of light in the dark center of his turtle being.

I wish I’d been able to save him. I hope he’s in turtle heaven.