Annie Lennox to Terrell Owens: "No More I Love You's"

The Id and I - And all the journalist's say I'm pretty fly for a cyber-guy!

Well, Philadelphia Eagles' wide receiver and God's gift to himself, Terrell Owens, was out of the ESPN national spotlight for a mere 5.5 nanoseconds - and, folks, he didn't like it. Neither did ESPN much for that matter as T.O. quickly passed a note to Donovan McNabb (and "the world leader in sports") asking:

Donovan McNabb, I love you. Do you (and ESPN) still love me...???

Please check box:

( ) Yes! Let's go to a Day Spa together.
( ) No. You're too much man for me. Can Sharon Reed play wideout-?
( ) Maybe-? Can I turn over and sleep on it-?

Anyway, after a fantastic Monday Night Football kickoff game between Philly and the Falcons ...the freaking Eagles lost! Can we PLEASE bury the memory of Terrell Owens in the back garden with the rest of The Flowers in the Attic...??? McMemo to ESPN: Terrell Owens is not a story anymore - REPEAT ...NOT A STORY - even if he tells you that he is! X-File's Case #0388-7 solved and CLOSED.

An Evening with Joe Andruzzi: What a snoozy!

Last night, a local watering hole of mine was having a "promotional party" for MNF - featuring a guest appearance by Browns' offensive lineman, Joe Andruzzi. It always sounds intriguing - at first - until all the usual crowd changes and morphs into something new altogether, leaving me with frustrated sober soundbites like: "Hey, where have all the beautiful people gone...?" to a few beers later, lamenting: "Is the circus in town, tonight...?"

I'm sure Mr. Andruzzi is a fine fellow - he seemed nice enough peddling his Cleveland Browns' not-ready-for-QVC merchandise to the crowd - but I wasn't buying nor biting. I just wanted to get my baby bladder to it's required bathroom break during the commercial - but instead all I got was Joe Andruzzi (and his flunkies) blocking my way to the "Little Journalist's Room."

Andruzzi was signing T-shirts and other memorabilia - but I already had my autographed baseball from Ben Broussard this summer. And sorry, Joe Andruzzi, but I trade UP ...not down ...when it comes to rubbing elbows with local sports stars and the such. Hey, even cyber-shut-in's have their standards!

Never fear, I blew by all of them like a Cincinnati Bengals' pass rusher on holiday without buying a single piece of merchandise! Again, Mr. Andruzzi seemed like a nice enough fellow, but I was just in no stinking mood with a half-dozen Hoegaardens in me - and my beloved Cleveland Indians losing to the Oakland A's, 2-0, that evening. Hey, Terrell Owens isn't the only temperamental prima donna on this tragic reality tour!

"Reality is for people who lack imagination..." - Anonymous Bumper Sticker

So, yeah, I don't know - it's nights like these that I get into one of my "moods." There's only so many more "Ferris Bueller-like stunts" I can pull - like throwing out the first pitch at the Indians' game this summer - before I run out of steam.

"It's crazy, I'm thinking - Just knowing that the world is round. And here I'm dancing on the ground - Am I right side up - or upside down? Is this real - at all ...or am I dreaming?

And then I get in those crazy funks where everything seems to bother me - no matter how insignificant! Like I'll be sitting at home watching TV, and say bizarre statements like: "What's with that new Cold Pizza logo-??? It looks like something you'd see plastered on the side of a shaving cream can!"

"Hey, Cold Pizza," I'll blather to myself, "Gillette called ...they want their logo back! Um, did you at least save the receipt for that-?" But it's not THEIR fault they got snookered by some big city marketing firm - I mean, the host of the show, Jay Crawford, went to Bowling Green - Have you ever been to Bowling Green-??? I have - I was going to get a Master's Degree in Pop Culture from BGSU ...but I decided that $20,000 was just "a tad pricey" to write a thesis about Dawson's Creek... but that's neither here nor there, I guess.

There's certain points in time that keep sticking in my mind, for sure: About five years ago, we had a "reunion special" for The Cauldron, the Cleveland State newspaper I worked for years ago. We were high atop a Gold Coast apartment complex, which is like a high-rise refugee camp for Golden Girls' fanatics and the such, but our friend, Shelby, lived there and we were getting drunk, laughing, and reminiscing on the rooftop nonetheless.

It was there that my friend and colleague, Angie Stetzy and I, were soaking in the blinking Cleveland skyline. She told me matter-of-factly: "Why don't you move to California and write television shows-? You'd be a millionaire!"

I laughed, half in the bag at this point, but she went on: "And more importantly - you'd be doing something you are really good at - and, most importantly, something you have always wanted to do..."

At times I think it would just be easier if life was more like Lost - when I get bored, I wish there were times when I could just get sucked out of the back of the plane like that one guy with the rest of the Samsonite (tm) luggage about 3,500 feet over the Pacific Ocean - and just free-fall.

But that's just me ...Lost. Par for the course here on Mystery Freaking Island...