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KEIRA KNIGHTLEY IS SINGLE! KEIRA KNIGHTLEY IS SINGLE! Dayyyyyyyyyyyyyuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum!
Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
>Keira Knightley: Dayyyyyyyyyyyyyuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum
Posted: January 13, 2011 by Keith Stone in Uncategorized0
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So here’s the video the Knicks put together with DJ Steve Porter to promote Amar’e for the All-Star Game. A solid effort. Lots of star power. Tracy Morgan, Drake, Justin Tuck, WWE Champ The Miz, DJ Pauly D, Fabolous, and Judah Freelander to name a few. It’s a shame Woody Allen wasn’t involved in some capacity. Now we need to get Amar’e voted in as a starter. He singlehandedly reunited Turtle with Jamie-Lynn Sigler. If Timofey Mozgov did that, he should be a starter too. I can’t imagine what types of videos the Celtics are making. Maria Menounos and Donnie Wahlberg? Please. Go to voteknicks.com and please let’s make this happen.
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How about more money? [NY Daily News]
People are idiots [CNN]
Have a nice fall [AOL]
Anyone remember MySpace? [NY Times]
Yeah and I’ve “tried” alcohol [US Weekly]
Snooki corrupts child [AOL]
2009 World Series MVP pregnant [US Weekly]
Amar’e and ‘Melo LOL [Yahoo!]
Anna Benson retires [FOX Sports]
For the Philly girl in your life [Philadelphia Union]
Enjoy the snow, other 49 states. Sapphire, I’ll see you soon. I’m going to watch some Skins.
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“Sports reporter” Ines Sainz got famous over the summer when several members of the Jets and their staff sexually harassed her at training camp. Despite the fact that her ass explodes out of every pair of pants she wears and she goes around asking players if she can measure their muscles, she wanted to be taken seriously and she did not appreciate the Jets’ actions and comments. Now, Ines the Greek is picking the Jets to win the Super Bowl. It looks like we have an early nominee for the Hypocrite of the Year Award. First, she doesn’t want any attention. The Jets are 8.5-point dogs on Sunday. They haven’t won in 42 years. And they sexually harassed her. Picking them to win the Super Bowl—THAT WON’T GET YOU ANY ATTENTION!!! Sainz goes on to say, “[The Jets] are like a star in the movies.” This goes to show that if you treat a girl like dirt, she’ll fall in love with you. I’m not saying she has to hate the Jets, but just don’t pick them to have their greatest moment in nearly a half-century. Oh, that guy crashed into my car, he’s totally going to get that promotion at work! Does anybody in the world care what Ines Sainz thinks? Why is she making football predictions to begin with? Stick to the futbol, honey. And keep your feet away from Rex Ryan.
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Everyone always says that New Yorkers are mean and selfish. Here’s a heartwarming story that proves that it’s not true. The strippers of the Cheetah Club (I’m a regular there—hi, Sapphire!) got together and cleaned off the sidewalks in Times Square today to make things safe for children and handicapped people. These ladies were obviously disgusted by Mayor Bloomberg’s incompetence during the Christmas blizzard and took matters into their own hands. That’s how we are as New Yorkers. We’re tough, we’re proactive, we’re compassionate. Normally, the guys that do my parents’ driveway don’t even speak English. Now, I’m not saying these women do know how to speak English, but I know that I just love their gigantic, jiggly hearts.
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Richard Sanden was arrested Saturday night after the woman he was having sex with died and police suspcted that something wasn’t kosher. Sanden shouldn’t be ashamed of anything. This happens to me all the time, or at least the girls I’m with seem like they’re dead. The only problem was that Sanden recorded the encounter and upon viewing the videotape, cops charged him with necrophilia and mutilating a corpse on top of an original abusing a corpse charge. Sanden says that he didn’t realize that his girl was dead. I’m sure that’s going to hold up in court. Must’ve been some exciting sex. So that’s a lesson for you, all my Rainman Suiters, if you are fucking a corpse, do not record it.
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LeBron James tweeted, “Crazy. Karma is a b****.. Gets you every time. Its not good to wish bad on anybody. God sees everything!” after the Cavaliers got destroyed by the Lakers 112-57. How whiny does LeBron come off after this tweet? OK, he and Dan Gilbert have a beef, but the Cavs have the worst record in the league and it’s like kicking sand in their face. Leave them alone. He was the one that went on TV and broke Cleveland’s heart. Queen James is arguably the least popular player in the NBA. If you’re going to embrace it the villain role, embrace it. Don’t be a bitch.
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Ghostbusters is awesome. Ghostbusters II is underrated. For the past few years, there have been rumors that a Ghostbusters III is in the works. Now a script has been written and it’s almost ready to go. Director Ivan Reitman says he thinks it is the best of the three movies. The only holdup? Bill Murray hasn’t read it. Murray is notoriously odd, but you can’t have a Ghostbusters movie without him. If Reitman is right, Ghostbusters III will make a ton of money but only if the original cast is on board. Even if it’s a piece of garbage, it’ll make a ton of money. Little Fockers did. Dan Aykroyd needs to scour Brooklyn, find Bill Murray, and get him to read this script. It’s not like he’s busy doing anything else.
>SATURDAY
8:45 AM-I wake up next to a large black man. I’m either in jail or Fela is spooning me. I check my asshole and everything seems to be in place. It’s Fela. I’m as tired as I was the morning before but with none of the first-day rush.
9:15-Everyone starts getting up. I lie in bed and hear unfamiliar female voices. They’re talking about me. I want to say something but I’m too tired. Pretty soon they’re throwing things at me. I finally decide to rise and shine.
10:00-Everyone leaves for breakfast. I am still trying to work my way up to a sip of water so I let them go on their way. I go to dry out by the pool.
11:00-My stomach feels like a washing machine filled with Chinese food. I eventually get a little water down and listen to my iPod. It’s all about little steps.
12:00 PM-I read a little of my book. My mind can finally handle reading comprehension. I even manage to go in the pool and walk back-and-forth a few times. I probably look like an 80-year-old recovering from a stroke, which isn’t exactly an Olympic stroke but I think it may count as a freestyle. I’ll have to look that up sometime.
1:00-You know that feeling before you’re about to vomit when there’s a ton of saliva in the back of your mouth? I had that feeling the whole morning but now it’s getting worse. The last thing I want to do is shut down the pool by blowing chunks everywhere, so I run upstairs fully prepared to puke to my heart’s content.
1:15-I’ve never been more excited to be back at my place without a girl, but I hear noises inside. The crew is back. I can’t be a bitch and let them think I can’t handle Vegas. I drink some more water. They’re working on the leftover booze from the night before. The mere smell makes me feel ever sicker. Today isn’t going to be fun. I have no idea how they do it.
2:00-Fela has a MGM Grand room key from when his friend stayed there before. We decide to use it to sneak into their pool area. It’s awesome. Pools, waterfalls, fountains, and a giant lazy river connecting it all. I immediately christen it the Boozy River. No relation to BoozySleazy.
2:30-We find a spot to camp out and enjoy the surroundings. Lots of alcohol, lots of girls, and yes, lots of tattoos. I really want an inner tube but there are none available. I see a pretty girl getting out of the water with a tube and I swim after her. She seems happy when I say hi to her, but I just ask for her tube. She seems mildly disappointed. That’s how I get all the chicks.
2:45-Armed with my new toy, I’m finally having a good time and my hangover is becoming a memory. I’m relaxing on top of my tube when a semi-cute girl wearing an Ed Hardy hat comes over. I’m thinking she’s into me because, of course, the tube is a huge turn-on. All of a sudden, she dives down, flips the tube over, and knocks me off. SHE STOLE MY TUBE! In her defense, it was the greatest flip since Derek Jeter threw out Jeremy Giambi. She smiles at me as she sails away down the Boozy River.3:00-Everyone is laughing at me. My manhood stolen by a chick in a freakin’ Ed Hardy hat. I take a couple minutes to scavenge another tube and then we decide to explore all that the Boozy River has to offer. It’s like an alcoholic version of the Jungle Cruise at Disney World. Around every corner is a new alcoholic adventure. Will the guy in the NASCAR tanktop be able to shotgun his entire beer? Will the girl with the 34D’s stay in her bikini as she uneasily jumps into a tube? Oh no, it’s a fat dude! How will we ever get around him?
4:15-There are some really hard occupations out there. President of the United States. Heart surgeon. Quarterback. But to me, there has to be no harder job in the world than being the guy who has to clean the Boozy River. I’ve seen some drunk bastards in my day, but I’ve never seen such dirty drunk bastards as I did in the Boozy River. The level of cleanliness of some of these people was one level above caveman. I don’t even want to think about some of the bodily fluids that are undoubtedly spilled by these inbreds with their classy moral standards. If a girl has a sword tattooed between her tits, you know she has no problem with jacking off some guy in the Boozy River. It’s a shame the people that clean this mess up weren’t around for Katrina.
5:30-We take a couple more spins around the Boozy River but it’s getting chilly and I want to watch the Giants game. It’s only the preseason but it’s still pretty cool to watch a game in a sports book. I was going to bet a parlay on the Gmen and the next day’s Yankees game since CC Sabathia is pitching, but the whole trying not to vomit thing distracted me and I forgot to do it before going to the Boozy River. I get to the the sports book a few minutes before halftime and Rhett Bomar is sidearming passes all over the field. As much as I love gambling, betting on a preseason game is pretty much like betting on a coin flip. I can’t believe the amount of cheering going on for scrubs who will not play a snap all year. With that said, I was upset I didn’t bet on Rhett Bomar, who will not play a snap all year.6:45-The Giants lose but cover. Should have placed that bet! I get back to the room and everyone is pumped for dinner at In-n-Out Burger. It may have been the only food that I was willing to eat at the time. I’m sure that Double Doubles taste just as good on the way out as the way in.
7:30-I eat very slowly and my stomach is unsettled, but it’s so good. I know it’s a bad idea, but I get fries and a Coke too and smother everything in ketchup. It was totally worth it.
8:00-BoozySleazy and Fugitive want to play blackjack. Fugitive played the day before but went through all his money in a few minutes. BoozySleazy and I decide to change his fortunes around. Fugitive is a novice. He’s staying on all the 14’s and everyone at our table gradually leaves. Down to his last hand, his luck eventually changes. BoozySleazy and I coach him and he learns to play aggressively. He makes his money back and then some. It’s a proud moment. Kind of like watching your kid ride a bike without training wheels. It was also nice to know him in another way besides the guy that fucked Shrek in my bed.8:30-It’s our big going out night. We’re going to Rain at the Palms. I know that anything less than my ‘A’ game is unacceptable, but I’ve been in recovery all day. I just worked my way up to solid food. The pregame has begun but there’s no way I can start yet. I’m like Willis Reed before Game 7. I need a little more prep time before I come out of the tunnel. I go for a walk to the hotel across the street, the Aria.
8:45-And now it’s time for America’s favorite game show, Athlete or Rapper! A well-dressed black guy is laying down major money at the craps table…there’s no way he’s a doctor! So is he an athlete or rapper?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Don’t lie and say you’ve never played before. I watch this guy play craps for almost five minutes while I run him through my mental database of celebrities. I just couldn’t pick it out, though. I end up choosing athlete because he’s a bit tall but who knows. He notices me staring at him so it’s time to get out of there before he kicks my ass. And that’s all for today on Athlete or Rapper! Stay tuned next for Gay or European!
9:00-The Aria is nice, but a bit decadent. I think Liberace built it. It’s a good thing it wasn’t designed when the economy was good and then opened when the economy sucked. Oh wait, it was. It’s a little sad about all these places that were planned during better times but seriously, there should have been better planning. You can’t have empty buildings on the Strip. It’s ridiculous. At least there will be plenty of cheap hotel rooms for many years to come.
9:30-I pick up some vodka and Red Bull on the way back and have my Here Comes Willis moment as I make my valiant return to the room ready to drink. OK, maybe nobody really noticed but I was excited.
10:15-I’m starting my second VRB and Fela wants to lay down some ground rules for the bottle that he’s going to be splitting with BoozySleazy and I. We’re each going to select one girl that will be allowed to drink from our bottle. She would be our “designated drinker” and would only be able to drink a certain amount. Unlimited mixers, though! What can I say? Fela’s an accountant.
11:00-I’ve lowered the amount of vodka in my VRB compared to the nights before and my stomach is doing better. My energy levels are reaching incredible levels, especially compared to my condition earlier in the day. It’s a testament to my commitment to alcoholism.
11:30-We taxi it over to the Palms and wait in line for the privilege of forking over $190 to get in the club and a third of a bottle of Svedka. These clubs have a nice racket. Paying almost $600 for something that costs $30 at the liquor store in Astor Place. Pussy’s a powerful drug.
11:45-I’m not going to lie. It’s pretty cool to get a table and be able to sit in the VIP section. We’re doing the Boozy Dance, the obscenely priced vodka is flowing, and life is good. I stumble around and look for my Designated Drinker.
12:15 AM-There she is. The love of my life for the next few hours. A tiny blonde girl drinking a Miller Lite. I go over and we talk a little. She’s actually a sweetheart. Her name is Brittany, she loves football, and she works with special ed kids. I’m not making this up. It’s impossible to be more up my alley. I pour her some vodka.
1:00-Brittany and I are going at it. She’s so hot. I’m so drunk. I want her more than a Double Double. Then I have a genius idea. My favorite bar, Ghostbar, is on the top of the Palms. What better place to make out with a total stranger than overlooking the Strip? She needs to get permission from her friends and then we’re off.
1:15-Houston, we have a problem. Her friends won’t let her go off by herself. Who do they think I am? Robert Chalmers? I reluctantly invite the friends and tell them how cool Ghostbar is. They won’t budge. They want to stay at Rain. Enter Drunk Keith. Instead of staying, I decide to make a point and head up to Ghostbar by myself. Probably not the best way to impress a girl.1:30-Ghostbar is awesome. Probably the coolest view in the world. You can see lights for miles and miles and the Strip is right there. There’s music and drinks but no Brittany. I realize what an idiot I am and go check on her.
1:45-She’s already talking to Smooth. I have no chance and wonder if I can revoke her Designated Drinker status. I linger and veer into stalker territory. Maybe her friends were right about me.
2:15-I go out to the parking lot and curse my fate. I curse Brittany. I curse the Maloof Brothers. I stomp around for a while and the valet looks concerned. I decide to head back in before he calls the cops.
2:45-I don’t want to see Brittany so I go up to Ghostbar but I’m pretty depressed. I try to get some of the guys to come up and meet me, but they’re having fun at Rain. I look out at the lights and try not to fall off the building.
3:15-I go back to Rain and it’s starting to empty out. Half the guys have left but the ones who are still there want to stay. Brittany is gone forever. I’m pissed and getting really sick of house music so I decide to take a taxi home by myself. And that was my first problem.
3:30-All the camp counselors I’ve ever had must be shaking their head at my blatant violation of the buddy system. I’m in a bad mood and drunk, so I cut the taxi line and hop in the first taxi I see. The guy starts driving and I tell him to head back to the Planet Hollywood. He asks me if I want to go to a strip club. I just want to go to my hotel. The taxi goes in the opposite direction. I remind him where I want to go, but Mad Cabbie says he’s taking me to a strip club. At this point I start freaking out. I yell to him to stop and let me out but he goes faster. I’m in a cab in Las Vegas by myself in the middle of the night heading out into the middle of nowhere. All my yelling gets me nowhere. We eventually get to a stop light and I make my daring escape. I grab 5 singles, throw them at Mad Cabbie, quickly unlock my door, jump out, and start running. For all I know, he’s going to run me down in his cab. Luckily, a few other cars get to the intersection and Mad Cabbie drives away. I let out a huge sigh of relief, but I know my adventure isn’t over yet. The other cars drive away as well and I’m alone on a desolate industrial road. It’s pitch black and there’s no cars or people in sight. There’s a ton of homeless people and crime in Las Vegas and I have no idea who is lurking. Did I mention that I was staggeringly drunk?
3:45- It’s hard to see the Strip but I know I’m on the wrong side of the highway that separates it from the Palms. On top of that, Mad Cabbie took me much further north of where I need to go. I decide that the first thing I need to do is cross the highway. I set a new personal speed record running even though I’m in my dress shoes and find an underpass. I’m in a city of lights and sounds but it’s way too empty and quiet. I fully expect somebody to jump out at me Jason Voorhees-style while I go past one of the massive concrete supports. I stop for a second and collect my thoughts. I can honestly say this was one of the scariest moments of my life. I start running like Michael Johnson and scream at the top of my lungs to frighten any potential evil-doers away. I am fully prepared to Daniel-san anyone that gets in my way even if it’s Mother Theresa. My lungs burn but I cross unscathed.
4:00-I run in the same direction to try to get to the Strip. I’m close but I can’t find an opening to actually get on it. I find a road I think will get me there but I end up in the employee parking lot for Caesar’s Palace. This isn’t ideal but at least I know I won’t be killed by a homeless person. There’s still no way to hit the Strip, but then like a savior a cleaning guy opens a door and I run in. He looks at me strangely but luckily he hasn’t mastered the English language yet. I roam the employees only area at Caesar’s looking for a way to bust out into the casino to freedom. All the cleaning people stare at me but I think they could tell from the insane look in my eyes that they should leave me alone.
4:15-I reach the end of a hallway and get to a door. I push through and end up in the Caesar’s Palace shopping mall. It’s closed and I’m the only one there. I feel like I’m in Dawn of the Dead. I follow the signs for the casino and push open the doors to civilization.
4:30-I’m finally on the Strip. It takes me about an hour but at least I save some money and get my exercise for the day. Escaping with my life from Mad Cabbie makes me forget a bit about Brittany. A little. I put some Flo Rida on my iPod and dance back to my hotel room. Some people are hanging out, some people are passed out, and somehow there’s still music blasting. I’ve never been so happy to sleep on a couch.
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Tracy Morgan, Drake, and Liam Neeson plus a few friends (Donald Trump, Whoopi Goldberg, Amber Rose, Chris Brown—sigh) are going to appear in a video urging Knicks fans to vote for Amar’e Stoudemire as an All-Star starter. A viral video is a great idea and Amar’e more than deserves to be a starter over that maniac Kevin Garnett. Tracy Morgan is hilarious, Drake is red-hot, and Liam Neeson brings a bit of seriousness to the table. But really, Trump and Whoopi? Kitschy much? I wish I could bet $10,000 on Donald Trump saying “Vote for Amar’e or you’re fired.” And I know Amar’e is spending quality time with Amber Rose but Drake couldn’t get Rihanna to be involved? Don’t even get me started on Chris Brown. I’m very interested to see what the final product is. Amar’e is currently third in voting behind Queen James and KG, but has narrowed the gap to about 24,000 votes for the second spot. As Knicks fans, we should be able to make this happen. We’re smarter, more passionate, and better looking than our counterparts in Boston. Plus, Amar’e is second in the league in scoring and Garnett isn’t even in the top 50. Garnett has the D, but he’s been injured and hasn’t had a bigger impact on the C’s than Amar’e with the Knicks. So go to voteknicks.com and let’s get our first All-Star Game starter since 1992.
Rainman Suite 
