This is a question pondered by many in the Mcbone community. Well, I have your answer. Jeff Bowler does not usually like to boast (well maybe he always does) but in this circumstance it seems unavoidable.
It has become very apparent that the two brothers' lone niece or nephew, Seda Moon Bowler Tunick has developed an immensely greater attachment to Jeff Bowler. She often can't distinguish who Nate Bowler is causing great anguish to the lesser uncle. Although Jeff does not condone these actions by Seda, he is very clear in stating that this is no coincidence. He is known worldwide as being an expert with children. They are very easily drawn to his kindness, gentle nature and paternal instincts.
Although Seda has already made it clear who her favorite uncle is, I would like to point out that Nate could one day gain the respect of his niece. Keep your head up and push through these hard times. Maybe Isla Sun, the new coming attraction in the Bowler-Tunick family, will balance the powers of the greatest uncle, but not likely.
You can rest easy knowing that when I have children there is no conceivable way that I will be their favorite uncle. Though you will be winning that battle by default, it will be a victory nonetheless.
In a breaking story released by the media director for the Cleveland Cavaliers Group, LLC. in the early hours of Wednesday morning March 21st, it has been revealed that Jeff Bowler has been signed by the company to a multi-year deal. He has been brought in specifically to help boost sales for the new franchise, The Lake Erie Monsters, recently purchased by Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert.
The Lake Erie Monsters will take hold as the minor league franchise for the Colorado Avalanche. Jeff will join a team of young individuals devoted to making the Cavaliers, Quicken Loans Arena and The Lake Erie Monsters the most outstanding franchises in the sports industry. He is extremely excited to get started.
Jeff Bowler declined an interview but did leave a statement with his agent. "I am very excited about the opportunity to help build this new franchise. I have very high expectations and infinite ideas on how to take all three of the franchises within Quicken Loans Arena to new heights. I would like to thank my family, my friends, Dan Gilbert and the Cavaliers, Heidelberg College, Revere High School, the Deighan family and anyone else who helped me to achieve my dream of becoming a Cavalier employee. Even when I have been promoted to the front office for the Cavs, and have become one of Cleveland's fastest growing legends, I will never forget the people who helped get me there. Thanks again and I greatly look forward to becoming part of the Lake Erie Monsters family."
Exact details of the contract have not been released and the Cavaliers could not be reached for comment. McBone Press.
Last night Alex and I were nestled into our rather uncozy apartment, at work on our respective novels, when came a soft knock on the door. I opened up to find two of our co-residents who call this little, subdivided house in La Roche-sur-Yon, France home. The problem, one of them explained, was that we make too much noise. Specifically, we slam the door of our communal bathroom in the wee hours of the morning. I quickly apologized and assumed the matter was settled. The intruding reek of alcoholic breath should have told me otherwise. The fun was only beginning
The second party, unsatisfied, quickly dove into a anti-American rant. You Americans always leave the bathroom door open, he complained, and you slam it all the time. We countered that he had thrown a party the past weekend that kept us up until 6 AM. That's different, he answered. One has the right to throw a party, but I'm going to kill you Americans. He punctuated his death threat by "shooting" us (sound effects and all) three times with his finger.
We promptly slammed and locked the door.
Our friendly neighbors did not go away, but kept knocking, and, when I threatened to call the police, they laughed. The police were called and quickly came, and the disturbance was dragged away in handcuffs (not before the anti-American decided to come at us again, no less than six cops present, telling us to go back to America). Today they are back, and we are looking frantically for a new place to live.
All this because of a difference in origin (and a substatial intake of liquor). I've always detested nationalism and that fellow sentiment that is hatred of another based on nationality. We have spent the past year and a half living in France. There are aspects of the culture I admire, and other parts I would change. None of that affects my regard for the French people as a whole. I feel exactly that way about my native land. A great person is a great person. A shithead is a shithead. You don't need a passport to tell the difference.
Nationalism is the sentiment that allows us to cheer our country on as we drop bombs in an unjust war. Nationalism gives rise to the likes of Hitler. Nationalism rates right there with racism or sexism in my book, a dangerous and devisive tool of intolerance, and another "ism" that the world could happily do without. This is no knock on culture, mind you. Cultural diversity is what makes the world beautiful. Borders are what I'm talking about, those artificial lines that say keep out, or you'll be safe in here.
These men, I presume, have never been to the United States. I'm certain I'm being generous in calling their knowledge of US culture limited. One way to mollify their hatred would be to start learning. These two would rather have us dead.
34,452. That's the number of Iraqi civilian casualties in the year 2006, according to the United Nations.
Devout christian George W. Bush talks about creating a "culture of life." No abortions. No stem cell research, but apparently life ceases to be precious once a person is actually born. Bombs on Baghdad? Let 'em fly!
The people who died at the World Trade Center were not attacked by Iraqis. Yet Iraq has been hardest hit by our retaliation. Varying reports have the Iraqi death toll between 60,000 to over 600,000, depending on how statistics are tabulated.
Over and over George Bush has repeated, "the world changed after 9/11." Horseshit. The world has always been at war. Not until global leaders come together with an agenda of peace will I say the world has changed.
Presumably, George Bush's religious beliefs allow for the existence of heaven and hell. I believe that, if there is a hell, George W. Bush belongs in its deepest, hottest reaches.
Think impeachment is too good for him? So do I, but it's a start, and you can sign an online petition to do just that.
You've done it a hundred times in your life. You do it without thinking. You believe you have no other choice. The turkey is dry, you tell yourself. What am I supposed to do?
You know what we're talking about. You've just made the perfect sandwich. Ham, salami, swiss, lettuce, tomato, mustard, some nice rye bread, a pickle and maybe some chips on the side. Sounds good, right? Getting hungry? Then you think, hmm, it's missing just one thing...
You reach into the fridge and open the jar. Out wafts an eggy, almost sulfurous smell. It hits you hard, makes you nauseous. You stagger, but fight through it. It will pass, you tell yourself. You grab a knife and scoop out a generous glob. See how it jiggles? See how it quivers ever so slightly, wanting to plop down onto the counter or the floor? Now look at the color. Off-white. The palest, most sickly shade of yellow.
Mayonnaise.
You lift the poor, unsuspecting slice of rye, the one coated already with the nice spicy, brown mustard, and slather a layer of whitish goop over the good work you've just done. Then, replacing the bread, you complete the atrocity. Sandwich ruined. You take a bite, gag, and swallow. Evil prevails.
We at McBone find mayonnaise to be the most reprehensible of condiments, a continuing crime against humanity, a tragedy of epic proportions. Who has never caught a horrifying (and sometimes fatal) whiff of mayonnaise being mixed into a bowl of canned tuna? Who has never asked the innocent question: is there mayonnaise in the pasta salad? only to be answered: just a little. Who hasn't had a favorite burger joint tout its "special sauce," when all you wanted was a little ketchup? It happens to everyone. McBone understands.
McBone is dedicated to the eradication of Mayonnaise in all its forms. We will accept no mayonnaise or mayonnaise substitutes. A few questions to consider: Trying to quit and can't? McBone is there for you. Being pressured by family and peers to try the ham salad? Our support group is ready to listen. Keep finding little gobs of mayonnaise in the mustard jar? You'll find McBone can counsel you through most any mayonnaise emergency.
Mayonnaise liberation starts at home. With a pair of rubber gloves, carefully remove your mayonnaise jar from the refrigerator and take to the nearest hazardous waste control center. Replace refrigerator. If you experience a spill, evacuate premises immediately and contact authorities.
McBone is convinced we can liberate our society from mayonnaise oppression. Do not be fooled by those who would tell you it's just eggs and oil! Together, we can make the world safe for future generations.
Mayonnaise tip: beware of the following dangerous mayonnaise euphemisms: Hellmann's, Miracle Whip, special sauce, mayo, sandwich spread, and all of the following "salads": tuna, turkey, chicken, ham, seafood, potato, pasta.
There are many things I will remember about this day: drinking throughout the morning and afternoon with some of my closest friends in celebration of one of my favorite holidays; watching the debauchery take place on the streets of the bustling metropolis that Cleveland was on this fateful day, and, later that evening, attending the Cavaliers game with center-court floor seats.
As memorable as all those things were there was one thing that evening that will stay with me forever. It wasn't the heroics of #23, the greatest basketball player in the world. It won't be #32 handing Brian Gibb and I his headband b/c we had a few encouraging words for him. Nor will it be the image of #5 making his long awaited return to Cleveland in the midst of repeated "Boozer Sucks" chants throughout the game.
Forever imprinted in my mind from this glorious day will be the actions of #29. No, he wasn't playing in the game, and in fact I very highly doubt he has ever stepped foot on a basketball court to actually play. It was this slick haired pipsqueak of a man wearing the black and white stripes. Yes that's right. Steve Javie. An NBA referee.
Mr. Javie made a questionable call at one point early on in this ballgame. I decided to take it up with him personally. No profane language was used and I made no movement towards him or onto the court. But apparently Javie is not very receptive to feedback from the fans. He immediately ran to fetch security like a little kid running from the playground bully. Steve Javie attempted to have me, the #1 Cavaliers fan in the world (as stated by my license plates), removed from the arena. Although we were confronted by men with ear pieces and strapped with walkie talkies, saner minds prevailed and I was allowed to stay.
A message to Steve who is notorious for trying to remove fans from NBA games:
I would like to remind you Steve Javie that you are a referee, the lowest of the of low. Nobody likes you. You are at the bottom of the food chain. You are worse than the scum located in the grease traps underneath our stove. How you arrived at the conclusion in your mind that the fans are inferior to you, I will never truly understand. You better hope that you never see me outside of your safe zone, in an arena full of security guards, b/c I do not tolerate cowards. I take this as a personal attack on me, my character and the Cleveland Cavaliers organization, therefore putting you in the top five of my all-time most hated people list.
Thank you for your time in allowing me to vent my frustrations.
These opinions are backed 100% by both the NOML and NIML. Go Cavs!
In celebration of St. Patricks Day, McBone would like to take the opportunity to salute Guinness. It's been almost 250 years since Arthur Guinness began brewing his famous stout at the St. James's Gate Brewery in Dublin, which we at McBone consider a far more worthy contribution to society than the banishing of snakes. So, this saturday, we encourage you to head to your local pub (if your bar does not have Guinness on tap, find a new, more reputable watering hole) and order yourself a pint of dark and creamy bliss. Otherwise, crack open a can or bottle and enjoy at home.
McBone endorses the consumption of spiritous beverages.
This is a question pondered by many in the Mcbone community. Well, I have your answer. Jeff Bowler does not usually like to boast (well maybe he always does) but in this circumstance it seems unavoidable.
34,452. That's the number of Iraqi civilian casualties in the year 2006, according to the United Nations.
In celebration of