Is Norris Cole the missing piece? (And other similarly ludicrous observations)

Gratuitous power couple.

So I forgot to mention this earlier, but the other day I chatted up this Canadian dude John Bradley, who you may know as the expert forensics witness in the Casey Anthony trial. Bradley is basically the guy who started this whole ‘chloroform’ search fiasco that has Casey’s mother up on the stand lying through her teeth (allegedly) that SHE was actually the one Googleing the chemical that may or may not have been used to subdue her granddaughter. Um, because she wanted to find out what was making her dog sleepy.

Right.

Anyway, there seems to be some question as to how effective Bradley’s software, which reconstructs deleted search histories, actually is. It is true, for instance, that the only reason he was called to testify at all was because CacheBack (the program) crashed when first expert Sergeant Stenger had a go at it. Bradley then spent three days debugging his software, reconstructing the Casey family searches and, god willing, contemplating his career as a programmer.

I kid, kind of. Bradley seemed like a totally nice guy, but he also seemed like a totally nice guy trying to shill his own product. He was super pumped about the attention, which suggests there may be some credence  to this whole ‘prosecutors paid him to take the stand’ line of thinking.

Moving on, are you like me? Are you JACKED UP about the NBA Draft? Are you SUPER STOAKED Cleveland landed a guy who’s played eleven college games? Are you thinking EXACTLY what I’m thinking? That you get to look at Norris Cole, The Flat-Topped One Himself,  sit on the Heat’s bench 82 days of the year???

No?

Does this change your mind?

who has a quarter?

Thought so.

I really feel like this is the cat who puts the Frozen Ones over the top. Not cuz he’s a 22-point a game scorer. Not because Miami needs more Cleveland. Not even cuz of that Sam Jackson, Bad-Mutha-Watch-Yo-Mouth Shaft-lookin’ mug…

It’s the hair ya’ll. Hair like that swings franchises, shifts balances of power, gives LeBron a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Think of Cole as a Black, jump-shooting Samson. And think of me as his Delilah.

Als0, I listened to Angles for the first time in like 2 months this morning. And maybe it was the caffeinated Friday high or the treadmill speaking, but I cranked that record straight through and feel no differently about it than I did upon first glorious listen. It is bright (the critics who say they sound bored and tired are delusional), tight, melodic, anthemic, dancey and rolling its filthy little leather facade in a heaping pile of cool. Which is to say, it is a Strokes record. “Angles” counts to its title five legitimately great songs, but the fact that you can barrel right through it without hitting skip is the greatest testament to its awesome.

Now for this week’s edition of “Miami Hurricanes Who Kind of Look Like Recently Captured Terrorists”:

Yanathan Melaku...

... meet Willis McGahee

And this week’s edition of “Mobsters Who Look Like ‘Love Actually’ Characters”:

Whitey Bulger...

...meet Bill Nighy

So earlier today, I told you I’d keep you abreast – luv that word – of developments with my as-yet-to-be-named spoken-word rap outfit with Pookie ‘The Punisher’ McLain, Ft. Walton’s own who was recently spotted drinking mojitos with the Motherfly. I’m not exactly sure how this Ice-meets-Coco collab will sound, but suffice it to say, you won’t hear a whiter cut this side of Alanis Morissette’s cover of “Horse With No Name.”

Richard Pryor will guest on single “Ain’t No Whitey.”

And finally, because as you can tell by my third post of the day, time is of the essence, I’d like to share with you a little thing I like to call ‘Julie Durda’. I assure you there is ZERO truth to the rumor I was exposed to said Fox meteorologist on a tip from QbyTheU, but had this been the case, I’d say, “God bless you, pops!”

Julie Durda, Eagle

Okay then. Excuse me while I go back and delete all internet searches for ‘hot pictures of julie durda’. John Bradley, lil help, bro.