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Archive for May, 2008

     Apparently both me and Srebotnik woke up this morning singing to ourselves, “Girl, I been shakin’, stickin’ and movin’ tryna to get you and that booty, tryna get to you and that booty.”  Got up around 3:30 this morning, stepped on/kicked the cat, went to the computer and saw Serena down a break with Sputnik (she’s Slovenia, wherever that is, so this moniker won’t stick too long) serving for the set, what?  After a couple of chokes from both women, Katarina “don’t call me Sputnik” Srebotnik took the first set, what?  Katnik wasn’t shakin’, stickin’, nor movin’ too well, she just let Serena cut her own jugular (the jugular that runs through that mouth watering booty).  Katrina wasted no time, gettin’ to that booty in straight sets, 6-4, 6-4. 

     Two quick notes.  1) The intraweb commentator (whoever he was), said of Serena, “she laps up balls with pace on them.”  Hearing this I started to wonder to what speed I coud get my own balls up to, and if that speed would induce some sort of lapping on Serena’s part.  20? 30 miles per hour?  2) I’m not about to take back everything I said about Serena as I live in a very small apartment and just couldn’t fit it all, but definitely the only person responsible for Serena’s loss today is herself. I haven’t seen a bigger choke since two days ago when Dave and I we’re playing tennis and two English girls asked us where the De Young was and I fainted, leaving them to get screwed by some local douche later that evening, no doubt(thanks Dave!). 

  What’s all the hysteria over having only one American left on the spice?  Helllllo, anyone hear of Rajeev “the ram” Ram?  Whatabout Scott “the lip” Lipsky? Or David “the mart” Martin?  These people are tearing up the spice in doubles action.  What, no one cares about doubles action you say?  We’re in a goddamn recession, fighting wars on terror, drugs, teen sex, and bluetooth users.  All Tennisburger is saying is, when the world gives you lemons, you root for unknown, American, doubles players in the French Open, k? How hard is it to get a picture of yourself on the web nowadays anyway?  The only person who shouldn’t have a photo available is Mattek. Allez!

     Following Mattek’s loss she announced she will pose for anyone with a polaroid and a strawberry Boone’s.  Popov blacked out Mattek, 6-2, 3-6, 6-2 over a two day bender.

     Dear Bud Collins,

     Please be quiet while I’m watching tennis and when you’re interviewing people.

    Yours Truly,

     Tennisburger

     I’m about to watch the Murray match now (what, watch a match post-post, you ask?).  Well you see, I had to go to the local hardware store and get one of those Gallagher size plastic sheets he gives to those tools in the front row of his shows.  I’ll be wrapping myself up in it so as not to get doused in tears (my parents have HD).  Almagro pulled Murray’s giant teeth, 3-6, 6-7, 6-3, 7-5. 

     Pancetta beat Venus in the dark, and I’d like to say Venus blew it for herself too (no I wouldn’t), but she didn’t.  She got beatdown, mafia style 7-5, 6-3.  Shriver kept blowing her blow hole over Venus not calling the match to be suspended ’cause she was down and could’ve had a better chance at Pancetta tomorrow, but if I may, for a sec, sound like a boring ass commentator.  I believe she was down a break in the 2nd by the time it started getting dark.  She was holding serve but couldn’t break her.  I think what Venus was going for was the break.  She was close a number of times but just couldn’t convert.  She wanted to suspend the match after breaking her, or go down trying.  Phew, that was lame.  Okay, so anyway, both sisters are out.  But you already knew that though, you just come here to hear me talk about how often I masturbate.

     Stop saying Ivanovic is struggling!  She mopped the floor (and pool converted to tennis court) with Wozniacki in straights, 6-4, 6-1.  Actually, mopping up something with a person really wouldn’t work too well, unless that person was made out of paper towels.  There’s a last time for everything.

  Radswanka didn’t find Cornet the least bit charming, mopping the floor with her enraging straight (and gay I’d assume) tennis fans across the globe, 6-4, 6-4.  How many Pollacks does it take to give Tennisburger a chub?  More than one, apparently.

     Nadal won. In other news _________________________(insert something you do everyday here).

     Screech keeps getting A++’s on all his papers.  Since when are the kids jealous of good grades? Since now.  That little attempt by A.C. and Zach didn’t pan out, but he did fall down and eat spice which was pretty fresh in my clairvoyant book.  Oh, and to the dip who tried to point out that A.C. and Zach usually helped Samuel, not tried to hinder him…no crap.  I’m only gonna go over this once, A.C.=RAFA!, Zach=Roger.  It’s a skillfully used metaphor which should only be used by trained professionals. From now on let me do the thinking (and masturbating). Oh, and thanks for stopping by.  Samuel said the same, overpowering the big O, 7-5, 6-4, 6-2.

  God I soooo wish this guy’s name was Metzler or Mezler and not Melzer so I could riff on “Paul Metzler, you Betzler!”.  But no, Jurgen “stick in the mud/wet blanket/I’m going home early/no, I don’t have any weed” Mezler and his parents had to ruin it for me.  Anyway, this guy will receive no happy meals from Monfils.  Only mad, angry, in your face meals.  Monfils lost in doubles today, but like I said, no one cares about doubles unless you’re an American, in which case you should, as it’s you’re duty as a patriot…or something.

     Well now I need to go find out where the cat is not, sos I can go jiggle my jewelry. Allez!  

    

    

 

    

    

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      Ahhhh, Boise.  More importantly, Ahhhh Boise at my parents house.  Where to rub one off?  I took my sister’s laptop into “my” room (really just a yawning quarters for their cat), and my mother nervously eyed me like I was going to wank.  The cat has a TV in his room, so I was able to watch Popov and get some Cornet time in as well on my sister’s laptop.  Problem is my mom thinks I’m wacking off in there with the cat, so every 10 seconds she asks me if I want to play Uno, or if I want a microwaveable Mac n’ Cheese mini bucket.  The knocks only became more frequent as Popov and Mattek tried to yell each other off the court, and the occasional scream-whimper from Cornet didn’t help matters.  So here is a very abridged version of day 5; my mother aplogizes to all of you.  Oh, and I’m gonna be up at 3 in the a.m., in a very quiet house watching womens tennis tomorrow, so…can someone check to see if selfmade handjobs are legal in Boise? Allez!

     Did you hear Shriver rip on the rags-to-rags rags  of Mattek?  Just as I was explaining to my sister what a low-rent skank Mattek is, Shriver busts out with, “a poor womans Serena” commenting on her digs.  Ouch!  Even Tennisburger cringed (laughed) at that one.  At first Mattek was all self conscious about showing her trim and exposing those blackheads on her shoulder, but after she held serve at 0-2 (and downed a couple lemon drops from the bar) she lowered her shoulder, ala Flashdance.  Even as most ladies (key word here) are tugging down on their tennis skirts, Mattek, I could’ve sworn, was hiking ’em up.  So yah, tennis…Popov handled the first set with ease, but looked weak in the 2nd set as her shots floated over the net like a ton of Mattek’s queefs. Pee-yew indeed!  The match was cancelled due to the overwhelming scent of Mattek’s fish farts; that and the sun went down. The match will be continued on center court tomorrow where Shriver kept repeating that Mattek will love the attention.  They say the same thing about gangbangs. They continue with Popov ahead who will serve, 6-2, 2-3.  I promise to be nicer to Mattek tomorrow.  No I don’t.

     What’s with all the buttholes in the commentating booth?  Is there one booth for all the courts?  I thought Cornet was playing Dulko and Manesmo as I heard her name yelled so much.  Quickly, Manesmo is proof that men cannot compete with women, losing to (David?) Navarro, 6-3, 6-4.  Women rejoice.  But yes, Cornet, I admittedly haven’t seen much of Cornet but those rainbow shots (I had to come up with another name other than “moon shots” as I heard it every 10 seconds, thanks broken-record-sports-commentating-guy!) are the funkiest I’ve seen.  Dulko morphed into Joey Bananas as those bombs plummeted right on the baseline.  Raddest shot (*high pitched*) everrrr.  Oh yes, I’m drinking the water.  Hell, I’m drinking her bath water and chasing it with a shot of her toilet water.  Did I mention she screams?  The only thing that worries me is she seems to get tired after 15 minutes of play.   It’s a barely legal fest tomorrow as she takes on Radswanka.

  Samuel Powers is in some deep shit.  Apparently Zach and A.C. (and their tits) are working on a plan to get Odesnik over into the fourth round.  Rumor has it, at the beginning of the match, after Mr. Belding fires the gun to start the match, Zach will come onto the court commando style, distracting Samuel by way of arousal.   Meanwhile A.C. Slater will tie Samuel’s shoelaces together, and voila, Odesnik wins 6-0, 6-0, 6-0.  Odesnik aces every point while Samuel’s crys are muffled by the spice.  Am I going nuts out here or what?

     Fish and his socks we’re C’MON’d right off his feet in straight sets by Hewitt, 6-4, 6-3, 6-2.  The Lube goes on to face Davystadenko…don’t like his chances there.  Nadal won, yawn.  Blake is out, another big surprise. Uhh, and Ginepri beat Chernobyl?  Did you see Sloth interview Ginepri after the match? Kinda awkward.  Seriously though, who was that guy? Can we get some side-by-side action with that guy and Sloth? Seriously, seriously, if you know please let me know.

     Oh, and Monfils did not shock anyone (I hope) by moving on.  I didn’t see the match as, after 6 rye whiskey’s I was kicked out of an airport bar at 7 this morning demanding they turn it to the Monfils channel.  After the sweet girl behind the bar frantically checked their cable box (I told her it was in the 400’s), I put my body through a plate glass window and went tearing down the tarmac after a man who I could’ve sworn at the time was Monfils. He was as shocked as I was.  So yeah, didn’t catch it.  Looking at the stats it must’ve been a pretty sloppy match, just how I like it.  He came to the net 20 more times than his match versus Clement which can be good and/or bad.  This time it was good (how do you like them sports writing skills?).  He also had 57 unforced errors which doesn’t really bother me as he usually borders on 300 per match.  He plays doubles tomorrow, then he’s sure to have an apple pie and catch up on that biography of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  Allez!

P.S. Federer won. Wake me when it’s close, not 6-7, 6-1, 6-0, 6-4.  The guy unraveled faster than a Mattek blouse. A-O!

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Day 4: The Spice Must Flow

  To say the conditions were windy/dusty/filthy is a bit of an under statement.  Unknowingly, at the last minute they moved the French Open to Arrakis, for what reason I have no idea.  I have a lot to cover so let me get on with this farce.

     Ferrero recriered being up a set against Marcos “who” Daniel of Brazil.  I dunno, you’re up and you cry?  This pretty much blew my mind, could one of these offensive criers actually be…hurt?  Let’s just call him a pussy and move on, this is getting too complex.  The best (worst) part was Gimmel-slob on my knob-Stob who interjected with some very sound diagnosis, and I quote:

     “…food poisoning, a flu bug?”

     I don’t know Knob, you’re the doctor.  Maybe he had anal herpes that were chaffing.  As I’m writing this I’m sure the news is out, and, Monfils forbid, he’s right.  But can Knob please refrain from his quackery for two seconds?  The guy is the epitomy of the feeling I get right after I say something high.  Tennisburger’s diagnosis: hurt pussy.  The who “beat” Ferrero 6-7, 2-2.

     Corina Morariu (say that one time slow).  Does this girl wear braces on her braces?  Does she have a double decker invisalign?  It’s either that or she has the worst speech impediment (*high pitched voice*) everrrr.  But seriously, I’d like to fuck her on the tennis court, if you know what I mean (Kicking and Screaming anyone?). 

     Let me backtrack for a moment to piss off all my English teachers.  I got up this morning, dropped acid (’cause it’s Wednesday), and the first sight I see is Ted Robinson’s facial expressions going bananas and his googley eyes bulging out of his head like he just saw the best pair of bazooms walk by.  As I was on acid, can someone confirm for me that his face was indeed, a hallucination?  That guy is like seriously koo-koo for cocoa puffs.

     Okay, Popov, baby, please don’t scare me like that ever again, k?  I love you, and you are my world and everything, so you can’t go on doing things like that.  Yes the spice is blowing in your eyes.  Yes, this girl has nothing to lose but her virginity and a couple hot meals, but my heart just can’t take it.  Popov cruised through the first set 6-1, and I was setting aside my rack of lamb to get my lube ready when Rodina went up 6-3 to take the 2nd set.  And the 3rd did not look too good either.  Popov faced double (triple? my au jous spilled on my Garfield notebook) break, down 3-4 in the 3rd set and essentially wailed her way out.  Manritilova thought Rodin was cramping towards the end of the 3rd set.  I thought she was crumping.  The Knob thought it was either a bee-sting or acid reflux.  After some scary moments and me puking up a little leg of lamb in my mouth, Popov pulled it out.  Let me say, all joking aside, that Evgeniya “the wall” Rodina played her way into the front of that bread line today.  Popov spice-girl’d Rodina, 6-1, 3-6, 8-6.  Oh, and Popov out faulted Ivanovic’s previous match 685-482.

     Despite my ugly American, male urges I’m actually beginning to like Manritilova and (most) of her commentary.  There’s something about butchy lesbos that can tell it like it is.  Today she capped on the “experimental” experimental effects the camera crew was using.  Double exposures?  Negative effects?  Close-ups of knees during serves?  New wave indeed.

     Do you think opponents of Hewitt hug their wives and children before leaving home to play this guy?  His average match lasts 16 days.  Mahut’s kids were like, “daddy, will I ever see you again?” And Mahut is all, “I don’t know.  Take good care of your mother while I’m away.”  Or maybe he just tells ’em he’s going out for a pack of smokes.  And can Hewitt de-C’MON! his game a bit?  Do you think he yells in regular c’mon situations?  Like he’s out walking his dingo, and he screams, C’MON! at the top of his lungs when he’s ready to head home.  Ozzy’s are annoying enough without them pumping their fist at you and screaming every 10 seconds.  Anyway, luckily the match wasn’t a 10 hour long C’MON!fest as Hewitt was, for the first time in his career, able to put away somebody in under 5 sets.  Hewitt dropped the bloomin’ onion, 6-4, 6-2, 6-4.

     Butt pirate extrodinare Gimmel “slob me knob” Stob predicted Isner would beat Chela!  Brilliant.  And after McEnroe heard Isner had indeed lost, remarked that he’ll be a real threat soon.  Listen, the only thing that guy will ever be a threat to is giraffe’s toupes. 

     Do you think Bartoli listens to Robbie Williams ’cause she looks like him?

     Oscar “tres flores” Hernandez (seriously that guys gotta get off the stuff) had the biggest meltdown since Youhzny mutilated himself with his own racket.  Up 2 sets over Mathieu, and winning in the 3rd he choked, 2-6, 1-6, 6-4, 6-3, 6-2. 

     Samuel Powers beat, what looked like, a Saved by the Bell extra, 6-1, 6-1, 6-3.

     Let me cover nasty bitches for a minute (ladies, dont’ front, you know she’s nasty).  Mattek and her torn and tattered clothes will face Popov in the 2nd round.  If she can keep her meat curtains from dangling below that skeezy fit, she may just have enough concentration to not get skunked 6-0, 6-0…ya’ know, like last time.  She even had the nerve to say she wasn’t aware she’d be playing Popov if she won.  Uhhh, Mattek, your inappropriate pants are on fire.

     Quickly, Bartoli is out, Peer is out (which crushed me), Nadal cruised, Spadea is out (I literally have 2 pages of notes on the 15 minutes of that match I saw, trust me, it’s Spadetastic…all you need to know is the French got it right and boo’d this NARC), Odesnik faces Screech, Young is out, but he threw one racket into his chair and smashed another, so it was a victory for me, Cilic is in (I like that kid too), the Lube struggled as yoosh, but is in…Andreev Chernobyl: in.  On the women’s side 8 ova’s won and 4 ova’s lost.

     MONFILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  He made it look easy didn’t he?  Ya’ know how?  ‘Cause it was!  ESPN somehow stayed with the coverage even though they could’ve been showing Serena squatting 800lbs. before her match, and I applaud them for it.  Up 3-0 in the 3rd set and Clement serving 40-15 Monfils went to the chair umpire and you could hear him say, “I am looking for zee, how do you say, skunk.  Watch zee lines, I will be, how do you say, clipping zee lines.”  He didn’t wind up skunking, but the sweep volley to get the ad., oh, c’est magnifique!  Monfils apparently likes detective novels and his favorite restaurant is McDonalds.  Well I just wolfed down 10 big macs and read  me some Sherlock Holmes.  Don’t hate, that’s some fine cuisine and literature we’re talking about.  He also has a blog which doesn’t exist.  Time to celebrate, Monfils wiped his ass with Clement’s fruity bandanas, 7-5, 6-3, 6-1.  Allez!

     Lastly, I’m leaving for Boise (the American one, not the French one), tomorrow at 4:30 in the morning.  My parents don’t have the Tennis Channel, so I’ll be limited to matches on the ol’ intraweb.  So if you see my posts and are wondering why I didn’t comment on Ted Robinson’s eyeballs, or Gimmelslime’s nastiness, or Collins’ awkward thing, it’s because I can’t see that shit on the webnet.  I’ll be back Sunday night, so I’ll geek the fuck out once I get back.  Enjoy Arrakis and it’s commentating for me! Allez!

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     Ahhhh, Vincent “ain’t afraidaya” Spadea (his self-given monkier).  The skate dad of tennis.  Everyone’s favorite NARC.  Is he cool or what?  He’s one of those dead beat dads that’s actually doing you a favor by not showing up. The guy wears his hat backwards to show you how crazy he is for non-cyring out loud. The only guy on the tour who “raps”.  Yes, he raps, and I don’t think I have to tell you how badly 33 year-old white tennis players rap.  Instead, here’s a sample of the skate dad, in action, being interviewed this morning by a black woman (ya’ know, to make it more authentic).  Kick it Vincent! oh and the elipses mark extremely long pauses which, as you know, are common in free-styling:

     “Katrina…I’m lean-ah and mean-ah than Venus or Serena/ but I’m stuck at this age where I’m feeling like…I’m in a cage but I’m ready to …break out (10 minute pause) get me on final stage…center court and…uh (longer pause, looks awkwardly into the camera) you guys know what’s gonna happen after that”

     No, actually we have no idea you freak.  Are you gonna do a circle jerk with all the guys who live on your couch down in Boca Raton?  Are you gonna do a handplant, naked on the half-pipe in your backyard?  Indeed, what is gonna happen after that?  I bet you real sex to cyber sex him and Gimmelslob give each other oily handjobs under the moonlit Eiffel Tower.  Hold on, I just barfed.

     And that was the only thing exciting that happened today.  I bet you even the parents (donors?) of Manesmo and the Kooze would agree with me.   The Kooze got rid of her corn rows which is a shame, cause I think they really gave her that feminine, classy look.  The Kooze cruised over Nakamura, 6-2, 6-3.  Manesmo HGH’d over her comp, 7-5, 4-6, 6-1.  And sweet little Sugiyama “Fujiyama mama” dropped the bomb, 6-1, 2-6, 6-3 on Kurdyavtseva of Russia. 

     As for the men there were a couple of mini upsets, depending on how much stock you put in overrated players.  Ancic defeated 32 ranked Seppi 6-2, 7-6, 6-2.  The guy hasn’t made it out of the 2nd round of a grand slam ever.  How is (was) that guy ranked 32?  If you even try to answer that you’re an asshole.  The other upset-non-upset was Soderling over a (mind boggling) 13th ranked Monaco.  Aside from having a good tennis name I really don’t know how he got that ranking.  Has he been on the juniors circuit?  Soderling didn’t cry for Argentina, 6-2, 6-3, 6-1.  Davystadenko’s giant cranium and Warinka’s pock marks will face more rain.

     If I see one more photo of umbrellas, or people with umbrellas to signify to me that it’s raining I’m gonna go drink my roommates bleach (he uses it for his ankle socks).  There has got to be other images that work for rain…like…RAIN!  Or can someone over there get a sense of humor and, during the rain delay just show a still shot of the sun for 8 hours? You can even have Gimmelslob read haikus about the sun.  I dunno, that’s pretty lame, but I think you know where we can take this.  And lastly, no more whispering, “it’s good” when there’s a close shot, then subsuquently shout “and that’s too good!”, when the winner is made.  That’s why those people yell, “NO!”, or “OUT!”, or “AHHHH”, when the shot is out.  We don’t need to be told of every shot that’s good, that’s what I use my eyes for.  That and for trying to stare through walls.  The last time I checked blind people don’t watch a great deal of tennis.  They’re usually pumping water from a well (if you get that reference, words can’t convey how much I love you). 

     There were a total of 13 matches played with 33 scheduled for today.  Tomorrow there are 74 matches scheduled, and most of them are not continuations of matches already started.  Who has two buns and hates their life right about now…this guy.  There is no way on earth they’re going to show 5 full minutes of the Monfils match.  I’m gonna go get extremely drunk right now. Allez!  

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    I didn’t take notes today ’cause my friend Dave came over and ate all my chocolates while we watched some matches, so please blame Dave and his white chocolate obsession if this post is weak sauce.  Tennisburger will be free-ballin’ it today.

     First off, can we just go with people’s first names from now on?  Wayne versus Guillermo?  Sounds like two turtles racing.  Or a children’s book, like Sam n’ Roger go Fishing for Eggs.  Or howabout a gay text book for 7th graders called Tom and Guillermo Learn About Each Other’s Bodies.  I think it’d be great, please let me know what you think…actually don’t do that. 

  Here Gasquet informs the press that his pussy hurts. He pulled out on Monday (I really have no idea what day it is anymore, sorry if these come out a little late).  I would compile a list of criers again for the French Open but the list is already way to fucking long which might make me bust out crying.  Then where would we be?  Why aren’t we invading countries like France?  An invasion of France would be like a coke-induced sex party compared to Iraq.  Anyway, yeah, Gasquet is dead to me, I don’t care how beautiful that back hand is.

     Roger took care of Sam in straight sets but all I heard from McEnroe was, “oh he looks so good, great even!”.  Does Querry’s dad employ McEnroe for overpaid handjobs?  The guy lost 6-4, 6-4, 6-3.  The average set lasted 30 minutes.  He got 45% of his first serves in.  Does backwards day really exist? 

     Baghdatis got his ass handed to him on a Cypriat bun with a side of halloumi.  He used to cry after winning, but now he just cries.  In his interview after the match he basically said he didn’t know where to stand.  How do you go from making people crump in the streets during Ozzfest two years ago, to not knowing where to put your feet?  Bolelli crumped, 6-2, 6-4, 6-2.

     Oh! Desnik.  Probably the funniest match due to a triptik of irony.  Canas plays way behind the baseline/is defensive, Odesnik has crazy angles (not to mention a 300 mph backhand), and a long lens on a short side court all made for some good times.  The majority of the match all you see is the top of Canas’ head scrambling back and forth trying to retrieve Odesnik’s shots, usually to no avail.  It really was the best match of the day, given that each set went to tie-break, and Odesnik likes to, for some reason, choke before swallowing.  Odesnik rang up 56 unforced errors which is pretty low considering they were out there for 3.783333333333333333333333333333333 hours.  Oh and 1 double fault?  I double fault when I’m not playing tennis.  But I guess that’s what seperates me from Wayne.  Apparently this kid called himself the American version of Nadal.  That’s like saying you’re the spam of tri-tips.  There’s just no such thing, and besides we all know you can’t give yourself monikers and nicknames or we’d all be known as big dick johnson, or sir punch a lot; they just don’t stick…usually for a good reason.  Don’t get me wrong, I love watching this guy play and can’t wait to see him face Hyung-Taik Lee of Korea.  Lee isfrom Seoul, but I don’t know if that’s in North or South Korea, so I’m just gonna be really worried for Odesnik and his family. 

     Not many (good) women’s matches got televised due to the rain, but Niculesco could be a case in point of someone who lost and somehow looked good doing it.  Does this make me a hypocrite?  Fine, whatever. Niculesco of Romania has more swings than I have things.  Seriously her swing to my thing ratio is 6-1.  She has a two handed forehand (?), a two handed slice forehand, a “regular” forehand, a two handed back hand, a two handed back hand slice, and I think I saw her use a one handed back hand.  I have gas, which isn’t even really a thing, more of a smelly discomfort.  Jankovic bashed her forehand strokes with her forehead, 7-6, 6-2.  I did like how Manritilova gave some insight on how blind as a motherfucking cave dwelling bat she is.  I thought she challenged most 4 foot wide shots to be a bitch, but apparently she just can’t find a pair of glasses that her forehead won’t push down off her nose. 

     Venus won.  I was on my 10th hour of tennis and really couldn’t bear anymore.  My apologies to Venus and that big delicious booty of hers.  Apparently she struggled, but I think tennis commentators feed us more bullshit than an all-you-can-eat bullshit buffet, just to keep us intrigued. 

     So help me God (Monfils), if the Tennis Channel doesn’t show Monfils (God) tomorrow I’m gonna start my own French BET tennis channel.  Tomorrow’s other highlights: Sharapova, Young, and Andreev’s temper, OH MY!

     P.S. Yes, it’s true, Harkleroad is taking the high road by showing her hair pie to the world (the non-existent world of weirdos who haven’t heard of porn and still read Playboy). It’s like wacking off to the bible at this point. 

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     Before I pile on, let me give you all a little advice.  No matter how stoked you are that the French Open is here, do not haul 1.8 tons of red brick clay into your apartment to cover the floors with.  It’s in my teeth, my butt crack, my ears and I think some got in my pee hole.  Your roommates will hate you, and your landlord will sue you.  Like my life, it’s just one big mess.  Allez!

     Issue #1: Get Gimmelstob out of my face, now! That guys smile is so fake I feel like it’s the late 70’s and he’s trying to sell me a hi-fidelity stereo system.  And who has to squeeze him into that ridiculous suit?  Just go, now.  It wasn’t bad enough he had to ride the coat tails of tennis, now he has to swing from the nuts that is tennis broadcasting.  Talk about a charity case, Jesus.  And hey, if you already look like a pedophile, stop smiling, it only makes you look more creepy. 

     Issue #2:  Does the Tennis Channel have the cash to bankroll the excruciating commentary of Ian Eagle and Rennae Stubbs?  If any of you do sound in the film industry and need some really good screams for civil war amputation scenes, let me  know and you can record me while I listen to these two ass cakes (thanks John).  Isn’t there a modern day Hellen Keller that can cover some of these matches?

     Issue #3: To whomever has it, please give Bud Collins his dignity back. 

     Issue #4: Mcenroe, we all know you’re crazy, but can you please hold all political science questions until that little light goes out in the “on-air” box in your suite.  Tennis coverage is bad enough without wondering out loud why Puerto Rico has delegates but can’t vote in the general election.  Even they don’t give a shit. 

     Issue #5:  If I tie one end of a string to my wrist, and tie the other end to the base of my racket, can Wrist Assist sue me for copyright infringement?

     Okay, tennis.  Frankly it sucked.  Aside from Gremelmayr giving Samuel Powers 5 good games in the first set it was a pretty boring, and might I add sloppy day.  Gremelmayr, who sees no need for the follow through, played 15 minutes of the best tennis I’ve seen since Tsonga routed Nadal in Ozzfest.  In the third he came back from a 1-5 defecit, but eventually lost.  Samuel Powers won the opportunity to annoy us for yet another day, winning 4-6, 6-3, 7-5, 6-2.

     Vaidisova lost which is okay with me, ’cause now she can fly home and give me oily hand jobs.  Notice how she wasn’t all that upset after losing.  Apparently it’s the 6th straight match she’s lost, and she lost quite convincingly.  She went down at the hand of another “ova”, 6-7, 1-6. 

     Ivanovic gave a piss poor performance in her win over the Sweed, Arvidsson.  Her tiny little mustache brushed past Arvidsson, 6-2, 7-5.  If my notes are right, she double faulted 482 times.

     Meusburger let us all down getting routed by Wozniacki, 6-0, 6-2.  Way to rep burgers, you hack.

     Cornet didn’t exactly cruise 7-5, 6-4.  This was not televised, but you know Manritilova was on site, licking her lips.  Seriously, who chooses which matches will be televised?  People who hate beautiful women (i.e ugly women)?

     You gotta hand it to Paul-Henri Mathieu who, really, had no quips about beating up an old man in public.  Guga mistakingly had a non-bionic hip replacement done, and tried to play for some embarassing reason, and Mathieu essentially peppered the clay with DROPPA!’s ’til Guga cried (yes, he cried, and what was that award they gave him? A Macbook?).  I haven’t seen that much cheese since my days playing Street Fighter at the bowling alley.  Mathieu Jean Luc Godarded his ass 6-3, 6-4, 6-2.  Oh, and I almost forgot, Guga was ranked 1,141!  After his loss I moved into the 1,141 slot. Allez!

     Blake shocked the world by getting out of the 1st round.  His opponent, Schuettler (pronounced Shitler, conincidently the name of my new anti-Nazi German-American band) resembled the grace of a ball machine and it’s a surprise Blake didn’t win more convincingly as every ball Shitler hit was offered up to him like a communion wafer.  Blake loses in the 2nd, I don’t even care if the other guy retires.  Blake stamped out the brown shirt, 6-4, 6-1, 7-6.

     Tipsarevic is out.  How existental of him.

     Murray didn’t cry today, another shocker (no, not that kind of shocker).  He also got out of the 1st round, but I think he’ll need a box of pat on the shoulders, some feminine hygiene products and some kleenex for the 2nd round.  He struggled against a boy of 17 (calm down Gimmelstob), who took two sets from him, but just couldn’t push it into the fifth after getting bagled.  Murray’s teeth grind on after winning, 6-2, 1-6, 4-6, 6-0, 6-2.

     It was some seriously sloppy stuff out there today (yesterday?) and Tennisburger hates sloppy, unless we’re talking horse races, chilidogs, and being last in line at a gangbang.  Hopefully Federer will brighten my chub tomorrow/today/yesterday. 

    

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Ho’s Gotta Eat Too

     Let’s sit back and contemplate these words of wisdom from the epic movie, Boyz n’ The Hood,  which Doughboy spoke to Shalika while standing in line at the picnic waiting for some tasty BBQ.  Indeed, ho’s must eat too.  They must also play tennis.  With Heninininin out of the BBQ line there’s all kinds of ho’s trying to get to the front of that line, and as much as I hate to concede to the “maxims” of hack sportswriters, yes, the women’s draw is wide open.  Let’s see who’s fighting for those tasty french vittles on the women’s side.

     Poor, poor Rodina.  She was born in 1989, making her what? 10 years old?  Also, to be a product of the 90’s in Russia, which would be the equivelant of the 1870’s in USA.  If only the tournament was as wide open for this bright young star as it is for the rest of the women, but alas! she’ll be skunked right off the court by her countrywoman, Sharapova.  The only line she’ll be waiting in after the 1st round is the that of the bread variety with ex-KGB members. 

     There are a total of two Canadians that slipped out of their wartorn country to make it to the French Open and I’ll bet you inches to centimeters it has something to do with the fact that one’s last name is Dubois and the other is Quebecois.

     Vaidisova is pretty much set to face Ivanovic in the 4th round if she doesn’t smash every racket she owns.  That is not to say my chub wouldn’t want to see her break her racket over her chair once or twice.    I’ve had a thing for women with short tempers ever since I was kicked in the groin by my middle-school sweet heart. 

  I constantly blame others for my shortcomings which is why I have this picture over my sleeping quarters.  She is my inspiration, the one I turn to when I need to turn to others to blame for my failings in life.   Is there anyone else on the planet (aside from her sister) who can, after a compeition involving herself and one other player, say that she was not beat after losing a match?  This is what America is all about, man.  But really, what a piece of shit.  I won’t go through the heartache she put me through, let’s just stay the course here.  It’s setup for a Jankovic v. S. Williams semifinals match if a number of different things happen.  Namely Jankovics forehead will have to get past Venus’ booty, and if Aneres (that is so damn lame) can waddle past Ivanovic and her pool cleaning skills. 

     Manesmo somehow got past the ball check, again, and wound up in the womens draw.  Ditto goes for the Kooze.

     Peer, who is the only Israeli on the planet who I love/would bone (Tennisburger bones all that he loves), might have to face Chakvatadze if she isn’t kidnapped by the 3rd round. 

       Meusburger!  We’ll be following her closely.

  My Chub: Ho-Lee shit!

Tennisburger: Dude, I know.

My Chub: She’ll probably face Janko’s forehead in the 4th round.

Tennisburger: Dude, I know.

My Chub: She’s 17.

Tennisburger: Dude, I KNOW!

     Lindsay Davenport is at 40-1 odds to win at Roland Garros which I find perplexing as she’s not even in it. Those are actually really good odds if she’s not even playing…might have to take some of that action.  I’ve overlooked shit like this before, so if she is in, please keep your mouth shut.  No snitchin’ on Tennisburger.

     On that note Serena is 2-1, and Sharapova is 9-2.

     Oh and keep an eye out for Dementevia.  That is all. Tennisburger now has to go back to burger lab and fill out his bracket.  See you late Sunday night!

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