Redskins mea culpas

Against all possible odds, the Redskins made it into the playoffs. Even more impressively, they didn't need assistance from the Saints or the Vikings to get there. (It's really too bad the announcers couldn't find a way to work in the phrase "The Redskins control their own destiny" a few more times during yesterday's games.)

Anyway, as someone who's hammered the team for most of the season and gave up on making the playoffs around the middle of the season, I feel the need to extend the olive branch during this time of playoff euphoria, before next Saturday when the Seahawks likely bring it crashing down on us, as they did two years ago.

To Joe Gibbs: I'm sorry I said you were old and out of touch with the game and need to retire or, uh...be fired. Even if you occasionally mismanage the clock or call back-t0-back timeouts, you still know how to run the ball, which is more than a lot of coaches in the NFL can say. Plus, at the end of the day, you're still Joe Gibbs, and you deserve better than you've gotten this season.

To Dan Snyder: I'm sorry I assumed you would find a way to profit off of Sean Taylor's death. In my defense, you are Dan Snyder. But turning over all profits of Taylor merchandise to his daughter was a classy thing to do. And amazingly, you've managed to go an entire year without making a horrifying roster move. We might make a respectable NFL owner out of you, yet.

To Gregg Williams: I'm sorry I thought you didn't know jack about defense after last season. The fact that it's actually gotten better since Taylor's death and McIntosh's injury, is a testament to how good the team's defense really is.

To Al Saunders: I'm not quite ready to apologize to you, Al. The jury's still out on whether that 700 page playbook of yours is a work of genius or a doorstop. But so far, so good.

To Todd Collins: I'm sorry I predicted you'd be cut in the preseason in favor of Jordan Palmer.

To Clinton Portis: I'm sorry I thought you were done as a running back with the Redskins, or for that matter, with the NFL, period.

To Santana Moss: I'm sorry I was ready to send you out of town on the same bus as Portis.

To Chris Cooley: I'm sorry I took Vernon Davis over you in my fantasy league. If it's any consolation, I really paid for that one.

All that is good and decent

I'm a couple of weeks late with this, but getting to the comic book store hasn't been a top priority of mine as of late. Because comics suck these days. They really suck. They couldn't suck more if they tried. In fact, there's an excellent chance that they actually are trying. That's how bad comics are.

But then something like this comes along:

And it's easy to remember why I still read them.

Well done, DC. This doesn't make up for the thousands of pages of utter crap you've produced this past year. But it comes close.

Week seventeen NFL picks

7-9 last week; 115-108 for the season

New England at New York Giants (+14.5): New England

San Francisco at Cleveland (-9.5): Cleveland

Detroit at Green Bay (-3.5): Detroit

New Orleans at Chicago (+2.5): Chicago

Jacksonville at Houston (-6.5): Houston

Carolina at Tampa Bay (+2.5): Tampa Bay

Buffalo at Philadelphia (-7.5): Philadelphia

Cincinnati at Miami (+2.5): Cincinnati

Seattle at Atlanta (-2.5): Seattle

Minnesota at Denver (+2.5): Denver

Pittsburgh at Baltimore (+5.5): Baltimore

Dallas at Washington (-8.5): Washington

Kansas City at New York Jets (-5.5): Kansas City

San Diego at Oakland (+6.5): San Diego

St. Louis at Arizona (-6.5): Arizona

Tennessee at Indianapolis (+6.5): Tennessee

Warm holiday wishes of violence

CIGNA Insurance Company initially refused to cover the cost of the transplant for Natalee Sarkisian, saying the surgery was too experimental.

On Thursday, friends, family and members of a nurses association held a protest outside CIGNA headquarters in Glendale, urging the insurance company to reconsider.

During the protest, Natalee's mother got word CIGNA had changed its mind and would make an exception for Natalee's surgery.

But the decision came too late for Natalee. Just after six o'clock tonight, her condition worsened. Natalee's family took her off life support and she passed away.

Attorneys for the Sarkisian family may pursue legal action. (KABC)

If it were my kid, I'd be pursuing chainsaw action against CIGNA right about now.

The healthcare system in this country has gotten completely out of control. And as we celebrate the birth of Christ this week, I think it's appropriate to reflect on how God would feel about this situation. I mean the Old Testament God, not that New Testament hippie God everyone likes so much. OT God would smite these assholes. Turn the CEO into a pillar of salt or send a flood through the CIGNA building or something. And when they got to hell, their eternal punishment would be suffering through every medical malady imaginable, and finding a totally unsympathetic insurance company who denied all their claims. But since we Christians have traded the Old Testament for our current touchy-feely Christianity, divine intervention seems unlikely.

So at a certain point, some grieving relative is going to need to take matters into his own hands It needs to be broken down into basic terms of life or death, since all these people seem to understand are cost-benefit analyses. As in:

Cost of a liver transplant vs. CIGNA's bottom line

And of course, the bottom line is always going to win. Especially when one's performance reviews and bonuses are influenced by these decisions. But if the person deciding the claim had genuine fear for his or her life, it would look more like this:

Cost of a medical procedure vs. Fear of a dead patient's family member hiding underneath my car, slashing my Achilles Tendon with a knife, and then beating me to death with my own shoe

Just one time, something like this has to happen, and we'll have a terrified health insurance industry. And a terrified health insurance industry is good for America.

Now you might be thinking, "But if we expand coverage, that'll just mean higher premiums for the rest of us." Last week at McDonald's, I saw a guy ask for butter along with his two McGriddles. How about tripling the premiums of people like that, so there's money to spend on sick kids?

But first, let's get some insurance company's CEO's head on a pike.

Merry fucking Christmas.

Unaccompanied minors

Metro has a young hooligan problem. The problem is, there aren't enough of them.

I was on the Red Line yesterday afternoon. At Gallery Place, about ten to fifteen kids, who looked to be anywhere from 12-16, got on. Naturally, they immediately started acting like teenagers, being loud and obnoxious and swearing a lot. But other than that, they seemed fairly harmless.

At least until one of them grabbed a fire extinguisher.

When I saw him with it, in the back of my mind, a voice asked, "Hey, you're an adult. Shouldn't you say or do something?" But then, a voice much closer to the front of my mind pointed out how much it would suck to get the shit kicked out of me by fifteen teenagers. It would suck under any circumstances, but especially right before Christmas. Hey, don't laugh. I don't care how tough you are, fifteen teenagers can kick the shit out of pretty much anything or anyone. Hell, it only took three girls to beat up that guy in New York a couple of weeks ago.

Next thing I know, the fire extinguisher is going off. And it kept going, even after the kid dropped it on the floor, spewing out this yellow-tinted, vaguely toxic-smelling foam (is it supposed to be like that?). The kids, giddy at the chaos they caused, ran through the door at the end of the car, and the whole thing felt sort of like something out of a disaster movie.

Just then, we pulled into Union Station. And here's why I think we need more of these kids, not less: People started getting off the train. Lots of them.

Now obviously, people get off at Union Station all the time. (Especially in the men's restrooms. Hi-yo!) But since some of the ones who got off just stood around on the platform instead of exiting the station, it seemed like they decided to just spare themselves the headache and wait for the next train.

Just imagine if Metro had more of these kids running around, especially during rush hour. Think about how much more room that would create on trains. Overcrowding would be a thing of the past, as passengers hopped from one train to another in order to avoid getting knocked down or coated with fire extinguisher foam.

Yes, granted, the decline in overcrowding would be matched by a sharp increase in violence and injuries, but I think it's an acceptable trade off. If it gets too bad, we can...I dunno, bring in a giant snake or something to take care of the kids. If the snake gets to be a problem, we'll figure something out.

Week sixteen NFL picks

7-9 last week; 115-108 for the season

Pittsburgh at St. Louis (+7.5): Pittsburgh

Dallas at Carolina (+11.5): Dallas

Houston at Indianapolis (-7.5): Indianapolis

Green Bay at Chicago (+7.5): Green Bay

Cleveland at Cincinnati (+3.5): Cincinnati

Oakland at Jacksonville (-12.5): Jacksonville

New York Giants at Buffalo (+3.5): Buffalo

Kansas City at Detroit (-4.5): Kansas City

Philadelphia at New Orleans (-3.5): Philadelphia

Tampa Bay at San Francisco (+7.5): Tampa Bay

Atlanta at Arizona (-10.5): Arizona

New York Jets at Tennessee (-8.5): New York

Baltimore at Seattle (-10.5): Baltimore

Miami at New England (-21.5): Miami

Washington at Minnesota (-7.5): Washington

Denver at San Diego (-9.5): San Diego

The worst thing D.C. has ever done

I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at the time. "Hey, guys! You know what D.C. needs? Its own Christmas song!"

But like most ideas in this city (i.e., "Let's merge FEMA with Homeland Security! That way, it'll be twice as efficient!" or "Let's play hardball with MLB. Once they see the combined might of the D.C. City Council, they'll roll over, and we'll get the baseball team for practically nothing!"), it turned out to be poorly conceived, and we're all worse off for it.

And so, "Christmas in Washington" was born.

I hate this song. I hate this song so much, if it and bin Laden were standing side by side, and I had a gun with only one bullet, I'd have to give serious, serious thought as to which one I shot. And I'm not going to lie to you, it would probably end up with "Christmas in Washington" laying on the ground, gutshot, as bin Laden ran away.

I mean, I get it. I understand the desire to come up with a song that romanticizes Washington. Everyone wants to romanticize Washington. Hollywood does it with fluff (often entertaining fluff, but still fluff) like The American President. Go down to Eastern Market, and you'll see tons of artists who make the city look a lot more beautiful than it really is. Even Margaret Truman, with her books about people being brutally murdered in Georgetown, the Smithsonian, Embassy Row, and a dozen other places, somehow manages to make the city seem special.

But with lyrics like this, the song crosses the line between harmless fluff and a vomit-inducing crime against art and humanity:

It's snowing tonight in the Blue Ridge
There's a hush on the Chesapeake Bay
The chimneys are smoking in Georgetown,
And tomorrow is Christmas Day.

The Tidal Basin lies quiet
The tourists have found their way home
Mr. Jefferson's standing the mid-watch
And there's a star on the Capitol Dome.

It's Christmas Eve in Washington,
America's hometown
It's here that freedom lives,
And peace can stand her ground

I managed to miss hearing the song last year, and credit that fact with why I had such a great Christmas. This year, I doubt I'll be as lucky. Most annoyingly, it's now firmly stuck in my head, and I can't get it out.

When I was Googling for the lyrics, I found out that I'm far from the only person to speak out against "Christmas in Washington." Numerous other people hate this song, too.

So if you run a radio station, I implore you to stop playing this song.

If you own the CD or sell them, I beg of you, throw them in the trash.

If you know someone who has the song, but refuses to dispose of it, I encourage you to kill him, and nail the CD to his corpse, so everyone will know why he had to die.

The song really is the most horrible thing to ever come out of this city. And if it were just me saying it, I'd be like, whatever, keep playing it if you want. But I'm not the only one! There are others! If you don't believe me, Google it yourself! This many people can't be wrong.

Until we admit that drastic measures like destroying CDs or vigilante justice against those who choose to collaborate with the song are necessary, we'll never be free of it. Never.

Anchorwoman: The Legend of Alycia Lane

...Lane was arrested early yesterday on charges of punching a New York City cop in the face.

According to the police complaint, the Emmy-winning anchor yelled at the female police officer, "I don't give a f--- who you are, I'm a f---ing TV reporter, you f---ing dyke," according to Philadelphiawilldo.com, a Philadelphia Weekly blog. (Philadelphia Daily News)

Two questions. First, why can't Alison Starling or Eun Yang be this cool? Second, when Lane gets fired from her station in Philly, can we get rid of Alison Starling or Eun Yang and bring her here?

I mean, let's face it, D.C. has no interesting TV personalities. I'm not saying they're bad. Most are capable enough at reading from the teleprompter, doing live remotes, and engaging in witty banter to fill time. And we've certainly seen the babe quotient increase over the past couple years. (Call me, Natasha Barrett!) But when's the last time any of them have actually done anything at all interesting, in or out of the studio?

Lindsay Czarniak competed in the Funniest Local Something-or-Other Contest.

Arch Campbell (who I can't watch anymore without cracking up, after hearing the bit Patton Oswalt does about him on his latest album) struck a blow for laid off old people everywhere by kicking forced retirement in the balls and taking his schtick to WJLA.

A few of them have blogs that are updated sporadically at best, which is probably a good thing, as they're mostly filled with the sort of insights you'd expect from people whose jobs require them to stay totally neutral and inoffensive.

And that's about it.

They're not exactly tearing it up on-camera, either. Bob Ryan is (sadly) as close as we come to having a wacky weatherman. Will Thomas seems like maybe the dullest person on the planet. In fact, I'm half-convinced that Will Thomas is a robot that they just unplug in between broadcasts. And with George Michael gone, the area sports anchors range from "good" (Czarniak) to "lousy" (Brett Haber), with a little bit of "okay, I guess," (Dave Feldman and Tim Brant) thrown in for good measure. No greats among them.

Jim Vance is the only one I really, really like. He's the gold standard against whom everyone else in the market is weighed, measured, and found wanting. Also, aside from being a great broadcaster, I get the sense that Jim Vance could kill a fucking bear if he had to.

You know, I actually had a point when I started this post, but along the way, I forgot what it was and it sort of just turned into a rant about how much I dislike the local news. Sorry about that. Look, someone just hire the hot crazy chick from Philly, okay?

Bwahahahahahaha!!!

Suck it, Baltimore.

And Brian Billick, you may take your things and go, sir. You're officially off my list of possible replacements for Gibbs. You should have gone for it when you were on the goal line. We already have an idiot owner. We don't need an idiot coach, too.

B.I.O. T.M.I.

I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it, but the highlight of my Friday morning commute is the B.I.O. column in The Express, where local couples announce their engagements, and provide frivolous, yet entertaining information, like their significant other's most hated clothing item, or their stupidest fight.

It's kind of like the anti-Date Lab. Instead of weird people with dubious social skills and unrealistic expectations ("I arrived at the restaurant and was disappointed that the guy who needed a newspaper to find him a date wasn't incredibly attractive, so I knew right away that it wasn't going to work out."), these couples are actual human beings capable of maintaining relationships. And even though statistically speaking, at least half of them will end up going through ugly divorces somewhere down the road, for right now, they're all happy and giddy and in love, and it's all wonderful.

Still, this bit from today's column sort of threw me a bit:

First Date: Even though it didn't happen until a month into their relationship, [he] more than made up for it with dinner at a Hawaiian restaurant and tickets to "Sheer Madness," followed by dessert and a romantic bath at home.

"Romantic bath"? Really?

Now, I'm not being a prude, here. Whether it happens on the first date or the tenth, what two people do in the privacy of their own bedr...er...bathroom, is their own business. I just object to it on two levels.

First, the phrase "romantic bath" is so incredibly cheesy, it sounds like something you'd hear on The Dating Game, circa 1980.

"Bachelor Number 1, if I choose you, describe what we'd do on our date."

"Well, first, I'd take you to my favorite four-star French restaurant. Then we'd go for drinks and dancing. And afterwards, if everything goes well, we'd head back to my place for coffee and maybe...a romantic bath."

Second, was there really a need to bring this up in a column read by thousands of total strangers? Surely, they could have just left off after "followed by dessert." I'm sure this isn't the first B.I.O. couple to have had sex on the first date, but no one else has really felt the need to trumpet the fact.

But most of all, I think I object to the idea that anyone would believe it's a good idea to see "Sheer Madness" on a first date. I'm shocked that the evening ended in sex, let alone, an eventual engagement.

Roids!

The Mitchell Report couldn't be more of a letdown. Not being a huge baseball fan, I was hoping there'd be a lot of stars on the list, so I'd actually know who's involved. And of course, if they were really irritating stars, all the better. Obviously, someone like A-Rod or Jeter would have been ideal, but apparently, they're clean. Johnny Damon, who might well be my most hated player, given that he's played for both the Red Sox and the Yankees, was listed on a supposedly leaked version this morning, but isn't in the actual report.

So unfortunately, the list isn't nearly as exciting as I'd hoped.

Todd Hundley? Howie Clark? Phil Hiatt? Hal Morris? Who? Are these guys actual ballplayers, or did MLB expand the drug testing to the people who work the concessions stands?

Mike Bell? Isn't he the third or fourth-string running back in Denver?

David Justice? I know he used to be married to Halle Berry, but that's about it. Maybe this is karma's way of balancing out the universe. You get to sleep with Halle Berry, but a few years later, you get named in a steroids scandal.

I can only pray that when the NFL inevitably has to put one of these together, it also contains a bunch of has-beens and never-will-bes, and not anyone who would actually be missed.

On DC101 this morning, Elliot wondered if Cal Ripken might be one of the players named. I feel bad for saying it...but I was sort of hoping he would be. You know that scene in Sum of All Fears, where the nuke goes off in Baltimore? I imagine something just like that happening if Cal had been on the list.

Week fifteen NFL picks

13-3 last week; 108-99 for the season

Denver at Houston (-1.5): Denver

Cincinnati at San Francisco (+8.5): Cincinnati

Baltimore at Miami (+4.5): Baltimore

New York Jets at New England (-24.5): New England

Buffalo at Cleveland (-5.5): Buffalo

Tennessee at Kansas City (+3.5): Tennessee

Atlanta at Tampa Bay (-10.5): Tampa Bay

Green Bay at St. Louis (+10.5): Green Bay

Jacksonville at Pittsburgh (-4.5): Pittsburgh

Arizona at New Orleans (-3.5): Arizona

Seattle at Carolina (+7.5): Seattle

Indianapolis at Oakland (+10.5): Indianapolis

Detroit at San Diego (-11.5): San Diego

Philadelphia at Dallas (-10.5): Philadelphia

Washington at New York Giants (-4.5): Washington

Chicago at Minnesota (-9.5): Minnesota

Boo, greedy writers! Hooray, benevolent corporations!

Remember when the writers' strike first began, and it was all fun? You had TV stars walking picket lines, you had Daily Show writers doing funny YouTube videos, and self-important bloggers were making fools of themselves, pontificating about whether it was okay to blog while the writers were on strike, or even "going dark" as a show of solidarity? Good times.

But now I'm tired of it. It's been a month without The Daily Show or The Colbert Report. Pretty much every show I watch is either out of new episodes or close to it. For the love of God, Fox is delaying the premiere of 24 indefinitely. Let me say that again: In-def-in-ite-ly.

You know, there are only two holidays in this country that are worth a damn. Christmas and Jack Bauer Day. What's next, writers? I suppose you want to take Christmas away from us, also? Would that make you happy? Try it. Seriously. Fucking try it. See what happens.

Look, I'm not saying you don't have valid points. You do. It's just that you're going up against Corporate America. And if the past seven years of the Bush administration have taught us nothing else, it's that corporate America always wins. Hell, KBR's locking women up in storage units after they get gang raped, and then has the balls to insist that instead of suing them, she go through the Employee Dispute Resolution Program. Does that sound like something that happens in a culture where the little guy can win?

As such, since the end result is inevitable, why drag things out? I propose the following compromise: The studios make you their best offer. You accept it. Everyone wins.

Yes, one side wins a bit more than the other. But most importantly, I'll win, because come early next year, I'll be watching Jack Bauer kicking ass and blowing things up. And I think we can all agree that's a little more important than this little labor dispute of yours.

Apple Store shenanigans

I was in the Apple Store at Tyson's Corner on Saturday, and at one point paused to check out the iPhone they had on display. God, that thing is awesome. Not awesome enough to spend $2,000 for the phone and a two-year contract on a crappy network, but pretty damn awesome.

After a couple of minutes playing around with it, I figured I'd give the YouTube application a look. Evidently, someone who'd experimented with the iPhone before I did had the same idea. The video he'd watched? The Internet sensation that is Two Girls, One Cup.

(NSFW doesn't begin to cover it, so Google at your own risk. But here's a relatively safe description.)

A more mature person would have likely been disgusted by this, and perhaps wondered what would have happened if a poor, innocent child had picked up the iPhone and seen that video. Me? I just laughed. I laughed even harder when I wondered what would have happened if a poor, innocent child had picked up the iPhone and seen that video.

What can I say? Sometimes it just feels good to abandon all pretense of social responsibility.

I am sorry to say that I was forced to undo the brilliant prankster's work, as I noticed a sales associate heading towards me, and I decided it was probably best not to be caught trying to view deviant sex acts on the store's iPhone model. So I quickly cleared that search, and then put the iPhone down and made a quick getaway once the associate had wandered off.

I hope that whoever did it goes back to the Apple Store and repeats the search. Let's see what happens when the geniuses at the Genius Bar have to deal with disgusted customers and cries of little kids asking, "Mommy, what are those girls doing with that cup?"

Instead of raising fares, how about transit cops just grow a pair?

"One candy bar: seventy-five cents. French fries: one dollar. The fine for eating on a Metro train or platform? One hundred dollars."

That's the recording I heard piped through the Metro station on my way home last night. And you know what? It's nothing but empty threats.

Years ago, I used to see people get busted for eating and drinking on Metro all the time. Sometimes they'd get a citation, sometimes they'd get a warning, but Metro was actually enforcing the rules. And it was often fun to watch, as people tried to weasel out of it, either by claiming that while they might have food in their hand, they hadn't actually been consuming it, or by arguing with the officer about what the actual definition of "food" is.

Now? I see people eating and drinking with impunity all the time. I see Metro employees walk right by people consuming food and beverages, and not do anything. During the summer, you practically see tourists enjoying three course meals right there on the platform, and no one says jack to them about it.

And you know what I think this all stems from? The incident ten years ago where that police officer put a little girl in handcuffs after catching her with french fries inside a station, and everyone in D.C. acted all horrified, as if he'd drawn his gun and shot her in the kneecap or something.

In fact, in terms of people who have been demonized in this city over the years, the list goes something like this:

1) Dan Snyder
2) The officer who busted the girl eating french fries
3) The D.C. Snipers

So obviously, cops are going to be a little cautious when it comes to enforcing the rules, lest they also have a Washington Post expose written about them, and get bored, self-righteous citizens calling for them to be fired.

Oh, and a little known fact about that girl. A few years after the french fry incident, she went on a multi-state robbery and killing spree, racking up a sizable body count before being killed in a shoot-out with the FBI, but only after she took out over a dozen agents. So I hope all those people who rallied behind her and taught her that it's okay to disobey the law are satisfied with themselves.

What's really galling is that this presents the perfect alternative to the fare hikes that are coming next year. Instead of raising fares, Metro should just start fining the hell out of people who break the rules regarding eating and drinking. Especially tourists. Yeah, they may not know any better, but who cares? Just stop and think about how much we could rake in each summer. If there isn't a surplus of cash in Metro's coffers by the time September rolls around, transit cops haven't been doing their jobs.

Alternatively, Metro could give up the pretense that they actually care about people breaking the law, let Starbucks open kiosks inside the stations, and bring in millions of dollars that way.

But do something, Metro. Because as it stands now, you're sort of coming off like a bitch. A poor, needy bitch who wants to make my commute even more expensive than it already is.

Just like the government, I have the right to read your email

I did something this morning that I'm not especially proud of. But let me throw in the disclaimer first.

I have a fairly short attention span. I think I probably have ADD, but I've just never gotten around to getting it diagnosed. (Rim shot.) I find that I constantly need some sort of visual stimulation, especially during long periods where there's nothing else to do, such as the morning commute. This morning, I had nothing. I'm between books at the moment, the guy who delivers the Express to my bus stop has apparently been on strike the past week, and we don't get the Examiner or Onion at all.

So when I got on the train, I was thoroughly bored, and ended up next to a woman who was sitting down in front of me. I was standing. She pulled out her Blackberry. I had a clear downward view.

And yes. I started to read.

Man, did I read. For a good ten minutes or so, in fact. I kept waiting for her to notice or for someone else to see me and say something, but it never happened. Partly, I guess, because no one really cared, but also because I was careful. It's not like I was leaning over her shoulder or anything. Just the occasional quick, furtive glance downwards.

Now, before you get too indignant, none of her email was of the personal variety. I'm not that big of a creep. If it was private stuff--well, I guess an argument could be made that she'd probably consider all of her email private, but you know what I mean--I would have looked away and just suffered through the soul-crushing boredom. But thankfully, it was all work-related stuff. Nothing classified or privileged, either, in case you're wondering. Just routine office email. But it got me through the Metro ride, and I'm going to hit up Borders during lunch, so I shouldn't run into this problem again tomorrow.

Afterwards, I considered the ethical implications of what I did. And you know what? I'm okay with it. Like I said, I'm not proud of it. But I don't feel especially bad, either. Is there really an expectation of privacy on a packed Metro train, anyway?

I'm not going to lie. I may do it again.

The closest parallel to the situation I can think of is that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry started drugging his girlfriend so he could play with her vintage toy collection while she slept. Was it right? No. But did it serve the greater good? Yes. And so, in a sense, did that make it okay? Yes.

Week fourteen NFL picks

7-9 last week; 95-96 for the season

Chicago at Washington (-3.5): Washington

St. Louis at Cincinnati (-6.5): Cincinnati

Dallas at Detroit (+10.5): Dallas

Oakland at Green Bay (+10.5): Green Bay

Miami at Buffalo (-7.5): Buffalo

Tampa Bay at Houston (+2.5): Tampa Bay

San Diego at Tennessee (+1.5): San Diego

Carolina at Jacksonville (-10.5): Jacksonville

New York Giants at Philadelphia (-2.5): New York

Arizona at Seattle (-7.5): Arizona

Minnesota at San Francisco (+8.5): Minnesota

Pittsburgh at New England (-13.5): New England

Cleveland at New York Jets (+3.5): Cleveland

Kansas City at Denver (-6.5): Denver

Indianapolis at Baltimore (-9.5): Indianapolis

Really annoying first snow of the season traditions

1) After it's been snowing for a good five or ten minutes, someone will inevitably look up from his or her computer, glance out the window, and go, "Hey, it's snowing!"

Hey, no shit! Those transparent glass things that line the wall? We can see out them, too!

2) Rampant and uninformed rumors about the federal government closing early. These typically start out small ("I heard we're getting out at four."), will gradually grow, ("Bob just said Jane told him that she heard on WTOP that Metro's getting crushed, and they're letting us go at two."), and then evolve into something like, "Bush just announced that al Queda's attacking us with snow! They're evacuating us in ten minutes!"

Okay, that last one is an exaggeration. But not by much. Sit back and relax, fellow drones. We ain't going anywhere early.

3) People muttering about how they should have gone to the grocery store last night to stock up. Sure, because that one inch of snow on the ground is totally going to keep you barricaded in your home for days.

4) Parents obsessively checking the news to see if schools are closing early. You're not fooling anyone, assholes. You don't care about your kids. You just want an excuse to leave early.

5) People new to the area cracking jokes about how D.C. overreacts to snow. Good one, Don Rickles! Those of us who have lived here for years have never heard this material before. What's that? People in D.C. "act all crazy"? BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!

5a) Guy from Wisconsin/Minnesota/Massachusetts/wherever commenting, "This is nothing. Back home, we'd already have ten feet of snow by now, and the average temperature is only 5 degrees, and blahbity blah, blah, blah."

Yes, thank you, Guy. We all took high school geography, so we know it's cold where you're from. Clearly, you must be incredibly rugged to have survived, and we're all pussies by comparison.

6) Pointless blog posts discussing the first snow of the season.

Dating for D.C. Dummies

About a month ago, I was putting some stuff on Craigslist one night and checking out the personals section. One [ad] caught my attention. It said she wanted to learn something about plants. I was like, That's my job; why not? [It wasn't a perfect match, but] I don't want to meet someone that likes 100 percent of the things I like. [When I found out it was Date Lab looking for a match for someone,] I thought, Sure, I'm up for it. (Date Lab)

Craigslist? That's how Date Lab finds its date fodder? I had no idea.

I don't know why this surprises me as much as it does. It makes sense, I guess. I suppose I just assumed that there was some Washington Post super computer that scanned each application and compared them for potential matches. Or a team of highly trained psychologists who sat around each day, debating about who to set up with who. Or some really bitter divorcee who sabotaged the process by intentionally pairing up people with no chemistry whatsoever.

Craigslist. Wow. Talk about shattering illusions.

I didn't know that [a personal ad] was one way The Post looked for people. I got kind of weirded out at that point. I wouldn't want to date someone who looks at the personals.

Look, I'm not going to defend looking for a date on the Craigslist personals. But if you sign up for Date Lab, do you really have the moral high ground?

Patricia: I'll [give it a] 3. He was polite and really considerate, but I'm not attracted to him. I was really scared he was going to expect a kiss on the cheek or something. I just was not feeling that. But we had a hug. It was quick, not awkward. I thought he might offer to walk me to Farragut West Metro. It's in the opposite direction, and he had to fly out [the next morning,] but that [he didn't] was kind of weird to me.

I'm of two minds on this one. Yes, he probably should have offered to walk her to the Metro. But it's Farragut West. We're not exactly talking about the Petworth station. What's the worst that could have happened to her? Some homeless guy might have asked her for change? She might have run into a dangerous shoe sale? She could have tripped and fallen into a Starbucks and gotten a craving for a Gingerbread Latte? Come on...

And he never once talked about plants. I was waiting to hear, What's on the trellis? What kind of ivy is that? But he never mentioned it.

This ties directly into my theory from a couple of weeks ago about how male geeks have learned to initially hide their geekdom from women. Well done, Adam. I honestly can't think of a less cool thing for a man to say to a woman than, "What's on the trellis? What kind of ivy is that?"

But more to the point, she'd already admitted to him that she wasn't really interested in plants. So why criticize him for getting the hint? If I'm out with a girl and she says that she's not interested in comic books, I'm not going to follow up by asking her who she thinks would win between Batman and Spider-Man.

(The answer's Batman, by the way.)

Adam e-mailed Patricia, but they didn't talk again. "There was no real romantic chemistry. I think we both knew that," says Adam. Patricia says she was too busy to keep in touch but adds, "I hope he's doing well."

Weak. If you don't want to communicate with the guy, fine. But don't say you're "too busy" to answer an email. No one in D.C. is too busy to respond to email. It's what they live for.

The Washington Post's mighty big boner

This was the headline on the front page of washingtonpost.com yesterday morning:

But a little earlier, there was a, uh...slightly more unfortunately worded version:

"Taylor's Family Linked to Killing." Jesus. Short of, "Taylor's Family Seen Laughing and Counting Their Money," it's hard to imagine a worse headline.

I have no idea through what circumstances this was noticed and corrected, but I like to imagine some editor pulling up the page while drinking his morning coffee, seeing it, doing the best spit take ever, and immediately making a frantic phone call to the office, telling whoever answered the phone that the Washington Post inadvertently just accused Sean Taylor's family of helping to murder him.

Honestly, I don't even know if people actually do spit takes in real life. I've never seen one outside of movies. But they always make me laugh, so I like to think they happen on a regular basis and I'm just not seeing them.

Girlie jerseys

I got the NFL holiday catalogue in the mail a couple of days ago. I knew the NFL sold lots of pointless crap that only appeals to the most die hard of die hard fans, but I had no idea it had gotten as bad as it has. NFL nutcrackers ($29.99). NFL golf balls ($99.99 a bucket). NFL leather recliners ($999.99).

But you know what item offended me most of all? Even more so than--and unfortunately I'm not making this up--NFL pet jerseys? This:

I can't think of a worse idea in the history of the world.

Admittedly, I'm not a fan of women's jerseys in general. Something about them bugs me for some reason. There's nothing wrong with women wearing regular jerseys, you know. In fact, I think it's actually a pretty good look. However, if you want to wear a women's jersey, which is basically just a really overpriced T-shirt, whatever. It's your money.

But for the love of all that is burgundy and gold, at least wear one that has the team's actual colors. Not these monstrosities.

Maybe in some parallel dimension, Isaac Mizrahi is NFL commissioner, and teams play in bright neon jerseys. But here, they just look awful.