Patriots’ Most Off Off-season Ever!

off off-season

New Book!

It is a hilarious romp that could make a highlight reel of its own!

From a championship ride through the streets of Boston before 1 million fans – to winning the ESPY award, you can follow every strange moment in Patriots history of 2017!

If you want to see what your New England Patriots have been on up to since the Super Bowl victory in January, and before they have begun the new campaign of 2017, you need to look at the new book that details every ridiculous adventure, scandal, and outrageous behavior, of the winning team.

From the twisted blogs of Ossurworld who was there for every minute!

now available on Amazon for smart readers and their tablets.

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The Stunt Man: Rush Job

DATELINE:  Mad Director Meets Madder Stunt Man

otoole

If you ever wondered what it might’ve been like to walk onto the set of legendary superstar Peter O’Toole during filming, your chance came in 1980 with the movie The Stunt Man, directed by Richard Rush.

The title is two words because Burt Reynolds sued director Rush over the title, wanting it for his movie tribute to stuntmen. They split the difference.

It’s a comedy action thriller drama Hollywood insider movie about the making of an out-of-control World War I epic anti-war movie with more explosions and killings than supports its so-called plot of the movie-within-a-movie.

It also costars Steve Railsback, in a rare heroic role as a Vietnam vet with post-traumatic stress syndrome. Fleeing from police, he wanders onto the set of O’Toole’s Eli Cross production and is immediately sucked into the ruse of taking up the role of a stunt man who was killed accidentally that day.

O’Toole knows he has a fugitive on his hands, but needs to prevent an investigation into his botched movie stunt.

Railsback was fresh off playing Charles Manson in Helter-Skelter for a movie mini-series. Peter O’Toole based his wacky director on his work with David Lean during the making of Lawrence of Arabia.

Flying around the set on a crane, O’Toole’s ego-maniacal director will risk anything to get his movie on film, including the accidental death of crew-members. Yes, this is a comedy, but not quite like you expect.

This movie probably would never be made today, even with rogue directors and winking cable studios financing the project.  Then, again, we admit that Twin Peaks was given a green-light.

When Railsback asks O’Toole why he is protecting the fugitive, O’Toole answers: “Because I’m in love with your dark side.” It makes perfect sense.

Railsback was never so handsome, and O’Toole was never quite so cuckoo.  It makes for a delicious movie, though it is about a half-hour too long.

In its earlier incarnation, it was given little publicity in its release. O’Toole commented the film was not released, “It escaped.”

 

Why Him? Why This Movie?

DATELINE: More Francophobia

why him?

James Franco stars here. As we know, Franco alternates between serious, literary movies, and mindless, nuthouse comedies. This falls into the latter.

Here he plays an exasperating, offensive, foul-mouthed extreme version of his most irritating persona. Opposite him is Bryan Cranston playing a curdmudgeon father of a beautiful Stanford co-ed who is cohabitating with this lout.

He wants to marry her, though she is so conservative we can never figure out why they are together to begin with. Franco is so appalling that we wonder why anyone wants to be in the same movie.

Of course, the fly in the ointment is that Franco’s Laird Mayhew is a video-games entrepreneur billionaire who cavorts with the likes of Elon Musk. Yes, he appears.

In a twisted way, Cranston’s befuddled father is perfect and the air-headed script flies by with tasteless scene following even more tasteless scene. We have been watching too many high quality, artistic movies, and have been brought down to earth in a crash with this picture.

Franco must win over Cranston to win over Zoey Deutch. Megan Mullaly, Cedric the Entertainer, and Griffin Gluck are around for the ride. Keegan-Michael Key steals the picture largely as the overgrown “houseboy” (via the Inspector Clouseau movies, proudly plagiarizing Pink Panther).

In its own way, this is a perverse Xmas movie, complete with references to Macauley Culkin being home alone to make the entire concept completely incongruous.

You may laugh as the Millennials truly make the Baby Boomers take one on the chin.

In case you wonder, the hideous art hanging in Laird’s house all were done by James Franco, who else?

Stuffed shirts always loosen up in face of a James Franco onslaught. The film defies you not to laugh.

 

 

 

 

Bob Hope Takes Sweden

DATELINE: Long in the Tooth?

long in the tooth?

In 1965 Bob Hope was still wise-cracking his way through movies, but he was mostly a TV star by then, or his popularity among young people was nearly at its nadir over his political stand on Vietnam, defending soldiers.

So, the film I’ll Take Sweden casts him as a smart aleck father of a California girl with eyes for a motorcycle driving, guitar-strumming, poverty-stricken young man.

The solution is to break them up by moving to Sweden.

The boy and girl could have been Elvis and Ann-Margaret, or Fabian and Annette, or some other early 1960s icons who were out of touch with the growing anti-war, hippie, Beatles-loving American baby boomers.

The film was also directed by Fred DeCordova of My Three Sons, Burns & Allen, and Johnny Carson TV fame. It looks like a TV movie with Tuesday Weld and Frankie Avalon playing the teenagers, when they both were already slightly past Dobie Gillis and Beach Party.

Yet, 50 years later, Hope is rather droll, wise-cracking and looks marvelous for a man in his 60s, even doing a few stunts.

This was not the vintage Hope of the 1950s when he was priceless and at his peak. Yet, he’s still risqué, bemused and cynical at the world, and you can’t beat that. He throws out those one-liners with aplomb.

He’d soon be replaced by the new generation with liberal Woody Allen who used the same jokes and attitude with a New York disdain.

If you put Woody Allen and Hope side by side, we still will take his Sweden movie with Hope’s smug and topical comments. He was a master.

 

 

Logo Wars: Michael Jordan v. Gronk

DATELINE:  Sports Deadlock

 logo warsIt takes balls.

 

Michael Jordan’s silhouette image on all the junk he markets, around since the 1980s, is called Jumpman. We never knew his dunkman had a nickname.

Now, because Gronk has filed an image for his brand of products that resembles a silhouette of an athlete in action, we have a conflict that will be settled in the biggest court/gridiron, that of the boardroom of highly paid corporate lawyers.

Jordan and Gronk are prepared to go head to head, or shadow to shadow for the title King of Greed.

The problem for the two athletes and their endless money making operations is that some dumb kid will confuse Jordan with Gronk. Yes, you may buy a basketball sneaker and think it’s for playing football.

We know our educational systems are dumbed down more than ever—but we thought the emergence of emoji and sign language has sent kids back to the level of cave dwellers with an eye for cave art.

So, you mean they cannot tell the difference between a football shape and a basketball shape?

We are talking apples and oranges here, or at least spheres of another world.

Two tall athletes, arms raised, legs akimbo, holding some totem object is sending legal minds into overdrive. You can never tell when someone may spike a basketball, or dunk a football.

We have seen idiot players score a touchdown and then dunk the football over the goal bar. You can easily forget what sport you are watching.

It’s all the same when it comes to millions of dollars and corporate greed. It’s all part of the modern gladiator combat of American sports. We think Gronk and Jordan ought be holding tridents and nets, versus short swords and shields.

Oh, wait, they already did that sports combat scene in Spartacus. It was Woody Strode versus Kirk Douglas, all for the edification of decadent Laurence Olivier.

We are always happy to assume the role of Olivier in a combat between Gronk and MJ.

Hurricane Clint Eastwood Downgraded to Breezy

DATELINE: Better to Stay Lost

breezy

In his third directorial effort, back in 1973, Clint Eastwood took up the challenge of a romantic comedy.  It probably sounded easier than he expected because he had William Holden, even aging and falling apart, as his charming, cynical leading man.

This atrocity is called Breezy, rhymes with easy, named after the hippie free spirit who haunts William Holden. It might have been more hilarious if Breezy was a teenage boy. But Clint doesn’t eat sweets.

However, the moribund script features one fantasy hippie girl who believed in free love of the era. Perhaps it was realistic back in the early 1970s in L.A., but Kay Lenz presents one of the most annoying, anachronistic versions of a promiscuous teenager we have seen in decades.

We cannot figure out why Holden’s well-to-do businessman didn’t toss this annoying and cloying girl out on her keester when she first appears to panhandle and try to con him. Are all men victims of their sex drive?

That Holden falls in love with her seems to stretch credulity for a character who never has fallen in love with any woman.

On top of all this, we are then faced with the embarrassments of May-December romance being denigrated by every other character Holden knows in the movie script. Really, Clint?

We almost hoped Holden would turn into Dirty Sex Harry and shoot the whole lot of slut hustlers. Of course, it’s not that kind of film, alas.

If the saccharine hippie girl isn’t enough to rot the script, you have an overlay of Michel Legrand music. Apparently, Clint gave himself plenty of challenges to overcome. You may drown in movie sweetness, not typical Eastwood.

Clint fans knew better than the novice director—and ran away from this clinkeroo. This was not even a good character-driven story, though you can see how Eastwood wants to develop it. The film wastes William Holden– and Eastwood too.

Many critics in hindsight think this was Clint’s most “personal” film. We doubt it. He was still learning his craft by directing in an unusual setting and genre.

Destroying the film negative might be a better challenge to undertake. Clint likely chose to ignore the movie as time passed as an experiment in directing. This movie is a freak of his oeuvre.

Are You a Boy or Are You a Girl: The Assignment

 DATELINE:  Singular Revenge Tale

michelle rodriguez  Ultimate Tomboy?

You won’t find many gender-bending mob hitman movies out there, but Walter Hill has directed and written the best one: The Assignment.

Literate, clever, and intelligent, as well as violent, this film manages to answer the question raised by the old Barbarians song.

This is a revenge tale with a twist of lemon. Frank Kitchen is one of those androgynous, bearded killers who looks like Ralph Macchio in most scenes and a bit like Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront in a few others. Even as an attractive woman, Rodriguez still looks like Ralph Macchio.

The actor playing Frank is Michelle Rodriguez who in a clever bit of computer effects has a full-frontal nudity scene as a young man. She has the posturing and macho attitude to play the killer who meets the wrong doctor.

Also gender-bending is Sigourney Weaver, as a tough masculine female plastic surgeon who decides, beyond experimentation, to have revenge on the mob killer who murdered her brother. She drugs him and turns him into a woman. Yes, castration and breast implants do not make the girl quite.

Since Weaver’s doctor loves Edgar Allan Poe, she leaves the calling card “Nevermore” next to the gender-bent Frank, left with nasty instructions in a cheap hotel room.

Tony Shaloub is around as a psychiatrist investigator who has to hear the story from Weaver in a strait-jacket while in a mental hospital. She cannot convince anyone that she did the sex operation on Frank and he really exists now as a woman.

Weaver and Rodriguez have a few good scenes together, especially when she admires her plastic surgery by commenting that Rodriguez is attractive in a “shop girl/waitress” way. Tony Shaloub compliments Weaver for her “cheap theatrics” in her confession.

Good performances and a good script make this action revenge flick way above the pack of gender-bending tomboy movies.

MacBird Outdid Trump as Caesar 45 years ago

 Julius Trump?

DATELINE:  Shakespeare in Absentia

We have seen many updated versions of Shakespeare over the years. Indeed, we enjoy seeing the Bard transported to new locations and timeframes. It often electrifies the message that has become stale to modern audiences.

We have seen Shakespeare set in Nazi Germany (Richard III), in the world of bikers (Coriolanus), in the world of independent film students (Hamlet), a corporate boardroom (Othello), and now we find a stage production of Julius Caesar in American politics.

The Shakespeare in the Park production makes Caesar a lookalike Donald Trump who hath grown ambitious. He has that chock of blond hair weave and an overlong red tie. He also has a bloated ego.

The man who would be emperor is assassinated by senators with knives, just like 2000 years ago. How much progress we have made in politics?

This version has created a firestorm, causing corporate sponsors to try to stifle artistic expression by withdrawing support. It’s a tempest in a teapot.

We think back to the Vietnam War days—and back then we must have been less sensitive because Macbeth was presented on stage in the form of MacBird.

That little ditty suggested that Lyndon Johnson had been behind the assassination of John Kennedy. In this cruel satire, without the Shakespearean tongue, the Scottish thane Macbird and his wife, Lady Bird, are party to a ruthless series of killings to rise to the top of the nation. Was Lyndon not born of woman?

We recall amusement about seeing a dumb tasteless play that presented President Johnson portrayed for conspiracy theorists  as Macbeth, but it did not quite engender the furor that President Trump has exemplified in a Caesar mode.

Satirizing politics of the moment has become a dangerous business. Just ask Alec Baldwin or Kathy Griffin who claim they are subject to social anger on social media.

So, too, Julius Caesar has created a debate—not about politics, but about art. To be or not, we’ll wait for the movie version.

Twin Peaks, Trump Plains, & Celtics Lows

DATELINE:  LeBron James as Laura Palmer, Trump as D.B. Cooper

glowing orb

Chicken or egg? We can’t figure out if the Trump Administration has prepared us for the new series Twin Peaks, or whether Twin Peaks has prepared us for the continuing weirdness of the Trump presidency.

When we see President Trump putting his hands on a glowing orb, we know there is a conspiracy of billionaires to control the world. Of course, it is merely a futuristic ribbon-cutting scene from the most recent Star Wars movie. Either that, or it is opening a gateway to an alternate universe, like the plots of Twin Peaks.

By the same token, we feel as if watching the Cleveland Cavaliers with the Boston Celtics is like knitting by Madame Defarge while royalty is having their heads chopped off.

On Twin Peaks, agent DB Cooper has returned to the northwest after disappearing for 25 years. That David Lynch has such a sense of humor.  So far, McLachlan has not rubbed any glowing orbs, but has kissed dead Laura Palmer (Cheryl Lee).

On the Celtics, little Cousin IT (Isaiah Thomas) and AB (Avery Bradley) are from the same neck of the woods in Washington state which happens to be the setting for Twin Peaks. It could explain a lot about how the Celtics are playing like Laura Palmer’s body wrapped in plastic.

Even stranger, we were amazed to see Kyle McLachlan and Sheryl Lee looking just like they stepped out of a 1990s TV show.  It becomes even more amazing when David Lynch has to inject a phrase at the end of every episode of the show that the episode is dedicated to the memory of one of the cast members who is now dead. We mean really really dead dead, like the log lady Catherine Coulson and the FBI agent played by Miguel Ferrer.

As for the dead Celtics, they are merely playing in an alternate universe, sort of like Twin Peaks 25 years later. If there is a glowing orb in the NBA, they better start rubbing it now. Lebron is no Laura Palmer.

Twin Peaks Returns from the Dead

 DATELINE:  Will the Real Harry Truman Ever Show Up?

twin peaks

In the immortal words of James Cagney, “what have we got he-yah?”

Yes, Twin Peaks has returned after 25 years. For a story that hinged on a murder of a lead character who is dead from the first moment, we find the new show starting with long-dead Laura Palmer in flashback telling Agent D.B. Cooper that she will see him again in 25 years.

That marvelous opening music is back.

Well, he-yah we are.

It doesn’t take long for the Lunacy to set in.  Director David Lynch clearly is ready for his old series to begin afresh. Dead actors are as apparent has dead characters. All you can do is hold on for as long as possible, until vertigo sets in or a bad case of dyspepsia forces you to give up.

Lynch has made very few films over the past 10 years but now in one season, he’s going to do the equivalent of nine feature films. However, he clearly is enjoying himself.

You will see A glass box under observation by three cameras controlled by a mysterious billionaire not named Trump. You will find two dead bodies mismatched in a bed. You will find the magnificent Douglas firs of Twin Peaks echoing like the towers of New York City with wind between them. Lynch can do things like that.

The series Twin Peaks has now reached cult status in mythical terms. It was always a cult show from its opening moments 25 years ago. Now it is off the charts. For 18 hours.

If you’ve never seen the show, you will be as confused as anyone who has seen all of the early episodes from the original two-year run 25 years ago by the end of the first hour.

The best we can do is monitor the situation and present you with updates. You can’t spoil anything that’s based on rot setting in. Fear not.

TB12’s A-M DB 11

DATELINE: Tom Brady to Carpool to Work?

TB12's A-M DB 11

Just when you thought it was safe to drive to work during the early morning commute, you learn that Tom Brady is having a custom-made Aston-Martin fitted to his own design specifications.

This sort of transportation transcends the Mini-Cooper and even our own BMW.  Aston Martin will pay Brady some unspecified amount to endorse their low-budget $212,000 cars (options extra).

This certainly makes Peyton Manning’s pizza deal of a lifetime of pepperoni look like anchovies under glass.

In a world of have nots and Trump-level billionaires, Tom Brady is casting his lot with the X-press Way of La Dolce Vita. He will not be allowed to commute to Foxboro from Brookline in the express lane unless he carpools with Julie E.

We don’t see that happening. Julian Edelman lives in Foxboro, not toney Brookline.

A friend of ours met Tom some years ago when he was not far removed from being a sixth round draft pick.

He and my friend met at one of those Cape Cod charity events when Tom watched as our friend had his red MB SLK 320 roof slide into the back seat.

Tom was agog, and said: “I need to get one of those.”

How times have changed.

He can now afford three of those Mercedes to one Aston Martin DB 11.  When Tom pushes a button on his new A-M, the entire car folds into the back seat.

And we were going to tell him to buy Aaron Hernandez’s used assassin 4-Runner Deathmobile SUV for sentimental reasons. He’s outdone us again.

 

 

 

 

Tom Brady & Trump Face Inflategate

DATELINE:  More Fake News or Inflate-gate 

 Trumped

Tom Brady’s wife, Gisele Bundchen, has just hammered the quarterback with the Madden curse. If you don’t have enemies, your wife may be just as good as a substitute.

Maybe bachelorette Julian Edelman knows something he should have explained to Tom.

With supermodel Giselle’s announcement of Tom’s unreported and secret concussions over the years, she has made more trouble for him than actual concussions.

There’s nothing worse than a latent headache. You can bet the NFL will now subpoena Brady and hire a special researcher.

Before the new 2017 season begins, Tom will be under investigation for covering up medical injuries. Will we learn that he has a private Russian doctor recommended by President Trump? Has the FBI enough agents to send a few to locate Tom Brady’s secret medical file?

Since Roger Goodell has seen the light of brain disease associated with football, he now has more reason than ever to stop Tom Brady’s career dead in its tracks. There’s nothing more exciting for Goodell than to beat a dead horse. His favorite derby nag is Tom Brady.

We are now convinced that Tom Brady’s showboating by smashing a mirror and walking under a ladder were signs of concussive behavior. He had brain lock.

If this is not the same as a Madden Curse, this scandal will do until a good one comes along.

Tom and his representatives are not issuing a statement. The Patriots are not issuing a statement. Bill Belichick is not issuing a statement.

Tom’s only comments today: he wished LeBron James and Isaiah Thomas good luck in their playoff extravaganza. It was Big Papi sitting courtside, not Tom Brady. Tom will have another day in court.

Tom will have to hide from the press about as much as former FBI Director James Comey. Questions abound and rebound.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Concussion-gate Rivals Trump-gate

DATELINE: Move Over, Watergate and Deflategate

 duke & duchess of Foxboro

Not tonight, dear. He has a headache.

Like his friend Donald Trump, Tom Brady has a big headache.

No, it isn’t James Comey. It’s Tom’s wife, Giselle Bundchen. The superstar model gave an interview in which she announced Tom had a concussion this past season on the road to the Super Bowl.

In fact, she said he had many concussions over the years. Uh-oh.

This was news to the NFL and Roger Goodell as well as the Players Union. There are rules about medical reports and who can play if he is concussed.

Goodell never ducks an issue like concussions, and now Giselle has given him another shot at Tom’s head.

You know there is trouble when the doctor who was played by Will Smith and blew the whistle on concussions in the NFL has called Giselle heroic.

Tom may have another word for her.  We may now see who wears the pants on the runway at Tom’s house.

Trump could fire Comey, but Tom may be up the creek with Giselle and her half-billion-dollar bank account. The Patriots are staying mum on Tom’s children’s mum, but we know that Jose Baez will be the first to offer his services if Concussion-gate gets messy.

We think Julian Edelman may have to recuse himself, and we aren’t sure if Bill Belichick will be subpoenaed to appear before Congress.

The Patriots may need to ask for a second opinion before the man with the Fountain of Youth admits he has feet of clay.

 

Tom Brady’s Get-Rich Scheme

DATELINE: Co-starring Julian Edelman

 home Tom & Julie at home

The Boston Convention Center will be hosting an event on June 8 to guarantee Tom Brady will get richer quick. You will have your wallet deflated instantly.

Yes, the improbable Tony Robbins has roped in the Patriots star, and his sidekick, Julie Edelman, as guest speakers at his money-making extravaganza.

For $3000 you will receive priority check-in, which means Homeland Security will laugh at you. You will also have lunch in the Diamond Lounge, but Tom and Julie will be long-gone by then.

For $3000 you will sit in the Diamond Stage area and have a meet and greet with Tom and Julian. If you chose the $200 gold seats, you will be so far away from Tom that he couldn’t throw a pass to you with a bazooka.

This is billed as a “Systematized wealth plan.” Indeed, someone will be making big bucks off your ticket. And don’t ask for a refund. They claim you will love the event, but there are no money back guarantees. If Tom comes down with dyspepsia and misses out, so will your credit card.

How long will Tom speak? Our guess is about as long as the zeros in Tom’s bank account.

You will also receive Tony Robbins’ new book, which will be on the remainder table at Amazon in about a month.

We have learned that Julian has written a children’s book.  Beware, mom. It’s about a squirrel named Jules who collects big nuts. Most of them will be at this event.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Worrying for Tom Brady’s Safety

DATELINE:  Through the Looking Glass

 smashing mirror

Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall, who is fairer than Tom Brady?

There’s always a young QB on the rise, living in the woods next to a huntsman waiting for a Heisman.

When the Patriot icon takes a hammer to smash his own image to bits in a looking glass on Facebook, we feel like Tiny Alice, ready to start chasing white rabbits.

Tom has turned into the Mad Hatter.  Has he been inhaling mercury as part of his health regimen?

You don’t fool around with mirrors when you’ve had Botox treatments. You don’t smash your own image when you’ve spent plenty to achieve that boyish forever look that cost Somerset Maugham a whole lotta goat hormone treatments.

Tom Brady wants to show he can fly in the fickle face of fate. Madden Hatter 18, be damned.

Tom is a man of science—and he has put all his eggs into the basket of cosmetology, or is that cosmology?

We keep forgetting whenever we see a pretty face.

We cannot imagine Gronk or Julie E smashing a mirror. They know the price of good looks is too high to throw away. Tom has millions to burn, or his wife does.

We desperately hope Tom will not swap his ruby red slippers for a pair of Uggs.  The Wicked Witch of the West, aka Roger Goodell, may be waiting along the Yellow Brick Road.

We hope Tom will drop that Brookline mansion on Goodell’s head. It may be his only salvation after the broken mirror crisis.