Chicago Bears vs. Green Bay Packers

I’m from Chicago. The Bears’ quarterback, Jay Cutler, went to Vanderbilt with me. In fact, the Bears have five Vanderbilt players on their team right now. (Marc? Is this right?) The Bears practice in my hometown. When I was little, I had a Walter Payton poster in my bedroom. My dad and I used to watch football together every Sunday—always a Bears game.  There are plenty of reasons for me to like the Bears.  Marc likes the Bears because he’s a decent human being who knows what’s important in life. Oh, and he’s also from Illinois and went to Vandy too.
Today’s Bears-Packers game is a very important football game. It’s the classic contest of good versus evil. Man versus …whatever the hell a Packer is. The best city in the country versus a town no one cares about. Oh yeah, and there’s that whole Super Bowl thing.

But there’s one problem: I don’t follow football that closely. I’ve watched three, maybe four Bears games all season. And I never watch another team play. I can’t throw out stats or discuss the intricacies of football players’ talent. Let’s face it, I’m at a trash-talking disadvantage. Or am I?  With Marc’s help, I came up with some reasons why I don’t like Green Bay:

FACT: Packer fans romance sheep

FACT: The Packers are the only team that you can’t put the word “Fudge” in front of

FACT: The Green Bay Packers are made purely of cheese

FACT: The Green Bay Packers think Leno is funny

FACT: The Green Bay Packers forgot your birthday

FACT: The Green Bay Packers fought for the Confederacy

FACT: The Green Bay Packers ate at a restaurant and then skipped out on the bill

FACT: The Green Bay Packers want to raise your taxes

FACT: The Green Bay Packers are illegally enriching uranium

FACT: The Green Bay Packers’ favorite movie is While You Were Sleeping

FACT: The Green Bay Packers started the riots in Tunisia

FACT: The Green Bay Packers subscribe to Newsweek

FACT: The Green Bay Packers illegally fish for bluefin tuna

FACT: When people ask where the Packers are from, they lie and say Milwaukee

Choose Your Own Underage Adventure

Marc is the one in the bunny ears

THE FACTS

Marc: so I just got two texts. The first one says, “Hey this is Hope cme 2 my house dnt txt back.” The second one arrives minutes later. It says “Meet me at the high skool dnt txt back im on my way 2 the skool”

Claire: do you know who Hope is?

Marc: I don’t know this person or number

What is going on, dear blog readers? Who is texting Marc?

1-800-Bill-Murray

So GQ recently ran this amazing Q&A with Bill Murray.  It’s incredible for a number of reasons—length, style, journalist-celebrity repartee, the fact that he mentions lying on a marble floor in Venice—but what’s most incredible is that fact that it happened at all. Bill Murray doesn’t talk to journalists. Or anyone, really.  He’s kind of weird.  If you’ve ever seen the movies Broken Flowers or What About Bob, this won’t surprise you at all.

But what we didn’t know until now is that he has a 1-800 number that you can call and leave messages asking him to do things. Things like…agree to be interviewed for a GQ article.  Or if you’re me and Marc: hang out with us.

You see, Marc will be here in October and while I’ve already “met” Bill Murray (read: I saw him in the street and made eye contact but nothing) he has not. So we’re going to call his 1-800 number and ask him to do something fun.

We don’t have his 1-800 number and we don’t know what we want to do with him. Whatever we decide, we’re not sure how to convince him to do it. We have one fact on our side (Bill Murray and I grew up in the same town) but other than that, we have no way to convince him, via 1-800 number, that we are more awesome than anyone he will ever meet. (Even though we are.) But we will triumph. Oh, how we will triumph.  Unless of course we fail.

Cake vs. Pie

I know it’s hard to believe, but I do have other friends besides Molly and Mazall.  Sometimes, I go on vacation with those friends. Sometimes, those friends and I get drunk and spend several hours arguing the merits of cake versus pie.

That’s right.  I said Cake vs. Pie.  It’s one of life’s all-important questions, right up there with the existence of God. I mean, what are we doing here anyway? Are we the result of a highly improbable collision of atoms floating through space with no real purpose? Are we the divine work of a spiritual maker? Or are we simply someone’s weekend craft project?

I don’t know, but I do know one thing: I love pie.

But I also love cake. And thus man’s eternal struggle begins….

Drunk Texting That I Don’t Mind. Also, Baseball!

Normally I would kill anyone who texts me at 2:02 AM, especially if it includes weird symbols and reeks of alcohol.  It’s not called “morning television” because I get to sleep in.    But Marc’s text last night was walk-on music to my ears:

MCANNCANCN@?

Yes, Marc.  Yes he can.  Hope you didn’t drive home.

Claire v. Marc: Lady Gaga is hot v. Lady Gaga is not hot

I'd hit that...but she'd probably hit me back.

Claire: Lady Gaga is hot

Marc: Lady Gaga is NOT hot.

Claire: I challenge you to a blog duel

Marc: I accept, you harlot.

Bend it like Donovan

Sports!

I don’t like soccer. Wait, wait! Don’t yell at me just yet. I don’t dislike soccer either. It’s just there, existing in the world for neither good nor ill. It impacts my life about as much as badminton. Or a piece of toast. The World Cup is a cool idea, it’s true. I like the national aspiration, the international camaraderie laced with some pretty serious competition, and the nice looking men in sexy sports jerseys, but does everyone I know have to talk about it? Constantly? For a month?

Marc loves soccer.  Of course he does—it’s a sport. As the World Cup progresses, Marc and I have enjoyed discussing the finer points of “fütbol” and why I am such a complete lame-ass.  Today, he finally convinced me to watch a game. We watched the U.S.—Algeria match together. Well, not together together, because Marc lives far away. We watched it together on gchat.  Here’s what happened:

Best of the Decade: Television

Television is good for you

In just a few short weeks, the 00s will be over. With it will go our youth, our innocence, our good looks, our days of underage drinking and our fears of a belated Y2K meltdown. We here at We Have Internets (man, we should have thought of a better blog name) have decided to celebrate the decade the same way as every other newspaper, magazine, website, blog, Twitter feed and diary entry out there:  With a series of top 10 lists.  Each list will be brought to you by a different blogger.  Marc is first with the Top 10 TV Shows of the 2000s.

Criteria: The television show had to start sometime between 2000-2009 with the exception of The Sopranos and West Wing because Marc argued that they didn’t hit their stride until this decade. I consented because, eh, what the hell. No one reads this blog anyway.

List-maker’s Qualifications: Marc is a lonely, lonely man who watches a lot of TV.

A Very Thanksgiving Either/Or

Marc treats historical artifacts with respect

Greetings from La Guardia airport! Your highly esteemed (ok, ridiculed) co-blogger is sitting on the floor with her dog and her laptop, bored and cranky because her flight has been delayed two hours due to, get this, the anticipation of rain. Not even real rain. What the hell is that? The airlines aren’t even trying anymore.

I just watched a small child drop a piece of cheese on the airport floor, pick it up and then feed it to her father. Ew.

In honor of this ridiculous travel holiday and the highly caloric meal that follows it, Marc has agreed to do a Thanksgiving-themed Either/Or. I provide the subjects, he makes hasty and uninformed opinions. Everybody wins. Well, except the Indians.

Friendship with Marc and Claire

he's single, ladies

Claire: i think that if you, me and ryan lived together we would never leave the house
Marc: that’s a sitcom. or it should be
Claire: ryan would leave the house to bang random men
but he’d be back within 30 minutes
Marc: I would leave the house to drink
but I’d be back within several days
Claire: “where’s marc?” “on a bender” “is it tuesday already?”
Marc: “where’s marc?” “at work” “so he’s on a bender?”
Claire: “where’s marc?” “he’s in the shower” “oh, so he’s drinking?”
Marc: but I’m putting a TV in the shower
and probably a chair, or ledge
and I’d like to involve a mini fridge in this