Hey, Didn't You Used To Be The Gorillas? -or- Yes, I Said Raise. Why Are You Giggling?

So, would you rather play cards, eat smoked butts (the good kind), or drink bier?

We know, that's a tough one. It's like picking your favorite crappy world-coming-to-an-end movie. Don't make us choose!

But luckily, you don't HAVE to choose. You can do all three Saturday, October 14th. Shit, you can do all three at the same time! And best yet, you can do them with the morons pictured here.

We're not gonna go into all the fabulous details of the Gashaus Gorillas Poker Butt Bonanza in this blog. If you haven't gotten a flyer from us and you want to know more, leave a note in the comments. And if you can, make it kinda funny. (Have your brother, you know, the funny one, help you.)

Oh, and by the way, do not send us a fucking e-mail telling us you're coming to the bonanza by using the phrase, "I'm all in." We've been listening to morons (ahem! Buddy! coughcough) using that goddam phrase for everything from going to a movie to rooting for a hockey team for 3 damn years now, and we think it's about enough already.

Yah, so... we, um... played a couple games this past Tuesday. Boy, howdy, was that fun. Sure, we might have lost one of those games. Sure, it was to a bunch of snot-nosed punks. And sure, we weren't even drunk enough to use that as an excuse. But lets not forget what's important here. What's important, is that the Gorillas play next Tuesday at 8 & 9 p.m. for the champeenship of the fall league. And yes, it would be the 4th straight league champeenship, and the 6th of the last 7 leagues we've entered.

So, you know, there should be some pride involved here. Right?

And if you need to use the fact that we lost a game to a bunch of shit talking momma's boys (including one cocky little shit that should cut his hair with a civil war era cannon) as motivation... well then, you just go ahead and do that.

Oh, and bring bier.

Sorry for not bringing the funny. We're out of bier, er, motivation.

Celebrity Death O' The Week. -or- So Long, Lord Byron! We Hardly Knew Ye!

One day, long from now, you will look back on today fondly. It is the day that you read the first of a new series on the Gashaus Gorillas blog: Celebrity Death O' The Week. Exciting isn't it? I know. Anyway, here it is. Today: "Lord" Byron Nelson. Next week: Terrel Owens! (we hope)

No, we are not celebrating the death, er, life of the famous poet Lord George Byron, writer of Don Juan, and all around crazy cat who was once described as "mad, bad, and dangerous to know." (We would flat out love to be described that way.)

We are talking about Byron Nelson. Bad-ass golfer, and namesake of a big golf tourney thingy they hold in Dallas every year. (Some guy named Brett Wetterich won it this year, so we guess it's not as big a deal as it was back when guys named Ernie, Tiger, Lefty, Vijay, and Sergio were winning it.)

Byron is well known for having won eleven tourneys in a row (Tiger who?) and18 total... in 1945 alone! There was a little thing we like to call World War Two going on that year, so, we dunno, maybe a lot of golfers were storming Omaha beach at the time. But that's still pretty damn impressive. He also won 5 majors, including the Masters and PGA Championship both twice.

Mr. Nelson was born in 1912, around the time the Mayflower landed*. He died this Tuesday past (Sept. 26th) at the ripe young age of 94. He had a pretty good run. He is survived by his wife of 20 years, Peggy. That means that Byron, sly dog that he was, married this chick when he was 74! Nice.

We have very little hope that we will live to see74, but if we do, we are so getting married.

Here's to you, Lord Byron. We totally plan on pouring a drop of malt liquor on the ground, pounding our chest, and pointing to the sky later tonight, yo.

*Could have been The Pinto.. We're no history majors.

Hit Better Drunk, Field Better Sober. -or- Poker, Because You Love Her.

In the world of sports, there have been some very bad teams. The '62 Mets, '72-'73 Sixers, '76 Buccaneers were all historically bad. There have been some very good teams. The '27 Yankees, '85 Bears, and '75-'76 Hoosiers come to mind.

But has there ever been a team that combined skill level and drinking ability quite like the 2006 Gashaus Gorillas? I think not.

Tuesday night was one of those evenings from which dreams are made. Beautiful weather, good softball games, and bier. Lots and lots of bier.

You could tell it would be a special night, when in pre-game nearly all the Gorillas brought a key element for the event. Some had bier and no cooler or ice. Some had bier and ice, but no cooler. Some had bier and an extra cooler. Some had bier and extra ice. One guy had a burrito, while another had some haut sauce. It was magical.

The magic carried over to the field. The first game ended in a run-rule as the Gorillas took advantage of an inexperienced north-paw on the hill, the continued hot hitting of JT (4 for 4, homer, 5 ribbies), and an umpire that was drunk enough to not notice how drunk we were.

An hour off to drink some more did nothing but help as BK joined JT in the hit parade in game two (both going 4 for 4) and we got some key clutch hitting in the last inning. Sure, we may have been a bit too tipsy to catch soft liners or thow guys out from 5 feet in front of the plate, but man were we funny. And we won. Which is nice.

So while our significant others, family doctors, and employers may think otherwise, we have once again proven that excessive drinking is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. Well, there is hope. I hear that's pretty good. And titties. Titties are awesome. Ever had a Wrigleyville Dog? Those things are fucking unreal.

But excessive drinking was the best of things this time. And it will probably be the best of things next Tuesday (8 & 9 for those of you too fucking lazy to scroll down to the scedule.) We'll see if we can get Tdub and Nick's punk asses out of their respective work boots and wheelchairs, get those boys drunk, and turn 'em loose! Wooooooo! Bronx Bombers here we come!!

Which brings me to the 2nd item of bidness. The Gorillas need money. Lots and lots o' money. Okay, not really. But we're gonna hold a fund-raiser anyway. It's not an ambitious affair, just a little poker game and butt smokin' to pass the time. But we'll raise a few bucks for the team and have a good excuse to spend the whole day drinking, eating, and playing cards with our homies. The debate is: when do we have it? We'll be placing a poll on the right side-bar shortly, and we would appreciate your honest(ish) opinion.

You do like bier, food, and cards right? Right? Cuz if you don't, well, that's how we would know you're gay. Don't be the guy wearing that faggy '76 Bucs jersey. Just... don't. K?

Orlando Just Got Fatter -or- Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen..

As we look back on the week that was, we are saddened and appalled by a sub-par, at best, performance this week from the Gorillas. Even as their founder and CEO sat idly by drinking their beers; they tried their best. Well, I guess their best wasn't good enough because they lost. After a day of emails and scurrying to round up a roster of players that didn't suck, a tall task; the Gorillas showed up 11 strong w/ two gimps and a pimp in tow. Gerthy made a much anticipated fall appearance after lengthy contract negotiations and a formal invite.

They say speed kills, but I tell you ladies and gents that's a lie. To use the band that everyone knows but can't name one song, "Gravity Kills". And fellas, we have a LOT of gravity on this team. Although the new found speed on the team was inspiring by the young Swain (no relation), once again the lack of a quality closer in the late innings did us in. I hear Hoffman's available.

In unrelated news, TDub has informed us his "team" has won their first game in Orlando at U-Trip worlds. We attempted to get a quote from the "big guy" but much like Mantle's, we are unable to print it due to FCC regulations. A reliable source, who wished to remane nameless, said he asked directions to the nearest strip club with a pizza buffett upon landing. Again, unconfirmed.

As Hemmingway once passed off as his own (probably stole it from Steve Allen): "Although the sun may set, fear not because tomorrow the sun also rises." Truly inspiring.

G'day, Croc Hunter. We Hardly Knew Ye. -or- Hooray Gorillas!

Let's catch up: Last you heard, the Gashaus Gorillas were making miraculous comebacks and winning league championships. Last you heard, the Gorillas had defied the odds. They'd spit in the face of adversity. They'd laughed in the face of death. They'd cum in the face of some crack-whore for 8 dollars.

Well, times have changed. All that you knew before is wrong. All that you believed has changed. Back then the phrase, "I'm gonna go all stingray on your ass" meant nothing. Hell, most people still thought Pluto was a planet. We personally had no idea that Joey Porter had gone to Colorado State University!

I know. Hard to believe. But those were different times.

Since then, like an aging rock band, some Gorillas have persued individual goals. No less than 10 past or current Gorillas made the final four in the city tournament. No less than 6 of them reached the final four in the USSSA E Mens Nationals finals. No less than 3 of them have spent time in jail - fewer than the Bengals or UK basketball team, but impressive none-the-less.

Okay, maybe times haven't changed that much. The Gorillas are (more or less) back. The fall league has begun. And the chances of the Gorillas not winning that mother fucker are lower than Vince Young's wonderlick score and/or Baumgart's sales-call tally. Sometimes a crafty veteran, such as D-Snydes (6 for 7, hitting for the cycle over 2 games including 2 triples, 6 RBI and a monster bomb.) will carry us. Sometimes a relative newcomer expected to give quality innings and be serviceable at the plate, such as Nick (5 for 7, including 2 triples 6 RBI and a nice play or two off the hill) will do it. It doesn't really matter. At this point, even people whose mothers were kicked in the belly by Rafael Septian during their 3rd tri-mester (Dallas-Ft. Worth... Hello!), monkeys, and very smart dogs understand that it is destiny for your heroes to win another title.

Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor said it all when they said, "That's right. We bad." Or perhaps Steve Irwin did when he said, "Crikey."

Crikey indeed, sir.

Crikey indeed.

2006 Fall League Schedule

Here's your schedule for the fall league, where the Gorillas will be vying for a 4th straight title. All games are on Tuesday nights (of course) and at Kleymeyer #3.

• Sept. 5th, 6&7 p.m. vs. Schmitt Tile
• Sept. 12th, 8&9 p.m. vs. E&I Sports Apparel
• Sept. 19th, 8&9 p.m. vs. The Golden Gloves
• Sept. 26th, 6p.m. vs. E&I Sports apparel and 8p.m. vs. Schmitt Tile
• Oct. 3rd, Rain date
• Oct. 10th, 7p.m. vs. The Golden Gloves and 9pm in Championship game

Check back here for weekly results and stats.

Happy Birthday!!! -or- Can He Play Shortstop?

Being good Catholics, the Wannemu...'s plan on having 15 children. They are well on their way with the birth of their 2nd (in 3 years) son, born the morning of the August 25th. We are told by sources close to the strappin' lad that both mother and child are healthy, happy, and wearing funny looking hospital garb.

As of this writing a name had not yet been decided upon (they only had 9 months to think about it) so please vote on the poll in the sidebar and help them pick a good one.

Tho the proud papa could not give us a favorite in the names race, he did intimate that the boy will bat left and throw right, has a cannon of an arm, and should be prime for his Gorilla debut in the spring of 2024.

Here's the boy with his big bro, JDub:

Props to the mama, MDub, who we know to be a kind and wise mother despite the poor judgement she's shown in sleeping w/ TDub at least twice.

Stay tuned, kids. Wannemu... Child version 3.0 is due for release sometime in early 2008.

Update (2pm CST): Rumor is a name has (finally) been decided upon. Hayden (Haden? Heyden? Whatever) Michael Wannemuehler (there. I spelled it out.) it is. Go ahead and vote on the poll... maybe they'll change their minds.

An Open Invitation. -or- Jesus Christ Of Latter Day Pricks

We'll admit it. We haven't watched a pitch of the Little League World Series. Something about Harold Reynolds not being there makes it all seem, we dunno, fake now. And even though girlfriends have insisted that we're constantly "ignoring the elephant in the living room" (what do you mean D has a drinking problem???), we thought we might acknowledge the kid bigger than an elephant that's been hanging out in an infield in Williamsport, Pa. As anyone who has watched Sportscenter or has traveled the information super-highway in the last week knows, there's an American, um, kid that plays for Saudi Arabia in the Little League World Series that is fucking huge. 6'8", 256 lbs! Gezus.

Since we're always looking to improve - size wise - we thought we should get this kid to play for the Gorillas. So we're extending an open invitation to Aaron Durley.

Aaron,

Gongrats on being so fucking big. We're sure that playing in the Little League World Series is great and all, but you may want to consider quitting that noise and coming to Evansville to play in the fall softball league for the Gashaus Gorillas. We know you get free equipment from Little League sponsors, but we are prepared to provide you with one of Snyder's hats, a pair of Baumgart' cleats, and let you hang out with Melon. That might not sound all that great, but believe me, Melon is a pimp. I mean, it's gotta be hard for a "13 year old" to find some poon-tang in Williamsport. Nothing but other player's moms and Erin Andrews there, and we hear she's partial to the Far East kids. We have lots of drunk white women here in Evansville, and you can probably hook up easily if you tell them you're Dean Garrett. Please think about it. Oh yah, see if you can bring one of the Dominican Republic's shortstops with you - ours is always hurt.

Thanks,
Gashaus Gorillas

Let us know if you think of anyone else we should offer positions to. We're already drafting letters to send to H.R., Ted Lilly, John Kruk, and, since we were thinking about her, Erin Andrews.

Gorrillas Update:
The Gorillas did not enter the yearly city tournament, so several of our players are scattered amongst other teams. As far as we know, all of those teams are still in the winners bracket after the 1st round. We may provide updates of those teams depending on if they do or do not, in fact, suck. And, proving that God is funny, some of us play those Gawd Fearin' Basteds this Wednesday nite. Hilarity will ensue. As usual.

We Must Protect This Haus! -or- God Doesn't Care About Softball

"The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day, The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play. "

It wasn't quite the Ernest L. Thayer poem, but the outlook was most certainly not brilliant for your heroes four innings deep with the champeenship of the league at stake. The Gorilla's arch-enemies, who had handed us our lunches on a couple of occasions already this year, were leading 9-0. The best damn softball team this side of Seinfeld's Improv team had a grand total of four (4) hits by two (2) guys. The bad guys were hitting the shit out of the ball, and the only thing keeping us from run-rule territory was a few great catches by the cheapest Ice Mogul (Flemwad) known to man. We were in grave danger of getting in a massive brawl in front of our mother if that fucking guy quick-pitched us one more time. Rice (aka Tin Donkey, Hammy, NickName, Meat) pulled a thumb muscle keeping score. Doom and Gloom were our biggest fans, and they were drinking our bier.

Then something funny happened. A fat kid fell down in the parking lot. But then something else funny happened. We started to hit. Most of us knew, just knew, that we were gonna hit. But yet, with despair setting in and heads a-hangin', there was some question in the minds of even the most faithful of Gorillas. Seven (7) runs in the bottom of the 5th and eight (8) in the 6th, and when the dust settled the Gorillas were champs. The sun shone. A band played. Hearts were light. Men laughed. Children shouted.

It was pretty money.

And as we're shaking hands, these bastards did something that really pissed us off. They were nice. We hate that shit. We had just come from behind in extremely dramatic fashion, and beat their asses. And we were anything but nice whilst doing it. That's how we roll. So the last damn thing we wanted to hear from these guys is a sincere "good game." We like our enemies to be assholes. It makes us hate them, and gives us the fire we need to compete. But u know what? That nice bullshit - "way to hit the ball... great comeback...Etc." - just made us hate them even more. And the blue yummies were that much sweeter.

You probably wonder why it is we despise this "church team" so, and possibly you fear for our eternal souls. Well, we'll tell ya.

• They don't drink at softball games. We can't trust people that don't drink. Hitler didn't drink. Know why? It made him mean.
• Jesus is a shitty co-pilot. Apparently he sucks at giving directions and encourages one to stay in the fast lane driving 10 m.p.h. under the limit and repeatedly checking one's hair in the rear-view. Every time we get behind a mini-van w/ a fish on the bumper we start looking for an embankment to drive into and end the pain.
• The Bible makes no mention of softball, IU basketball, or Pardon The interruption, and makes more false promises than BK in an internet chat room. Where's Harry by Steve Stone is, for our money, a better read.
• Anyone who likes to quick pitch us when they're up 15, throw behind the slowest guy on the team when he's two (2) feet off the bag, bitch and moan about every damn ball/strike call, and then pray on the damn mound after the game is more hypocritical than a pregnant nun. God does not want you to play softball that way, pal.
• We hear they hate puppies and are happy when they die.

All that being said, we think God is kinda money. We're down with His cause. We have an understanding with Him, and He allows us to make blasphemous jokes without being stricken w/ horrible diseases (so far.) We just don't enjoy folks playing softball in His name in a manner we find less-than honorable.

But enough about that. More about us. We're champs. We showed heart. We got home in time to watch the Cubbies earn one of their 12 wins this year in the 18th inning. We're gonna be vying for our 4th straight league victory come Fall League play. Life, for a brief time, is less sucky.

In the Mudville we call home, there is joy.

What's In A Name?

Wait, u mean there are others who watched Bugs Bunny cartoons when they were kids? You mean we are not the only ones who've used the moniker? Get outta here. Other softball teams too? Seriously?

Well shit. We can't have that.

So today we o-fisha-lee announce the change of our name. Due to our deep-rooted German-Catholic heritage, (at least three of us are German and/or Catholic) and our intense love for bier stubes, we are changing the team name, and thus the name of this here blog, to Gashaus Gorillas.

Props to Deezal - sorry... Al - for the rare clever suggestion.

We're Already Going to Hell...

Here's how it's gonna go down. We're gonna just go ahead and act like we've been doing this blog bullshit for years. We're gonna go ahead and act like you people have been reading this here blog since it's birth, those many years ago. We're gonna dive right in and "blog" about a big game coming up in which we will curse at chruch-goers whilest their children look on in horror. And you, you're gonna sit there, real calm-like, at your desk and act like you are enjoying the whole goddam thing. Got it?

So. It all comes down to this. As you know, the Gorillas have had an up and down year. We're good. I mean real fucking good. But, as many teams are, we've been somewhat, um, sidetracked at times by various difficulties.

• 6pm games which leave little time to drink warm-up beers before hand.
• Teams playing under the guise of God Fearin' Christians whom we happen to know are a collection of ass-bags that would fit right in at a Bengals training camp.
• Fun-hating umpires getting all up-tight on us and ruining our vibe just because we were dressed more like an umpire than them.
• Extremely restricting wardrobes.
• Our left fielder running away to milk the bulls at some rodeo in rural Illinois.
• Global Warming.

Yah, it's been trying, to say the least.

But after all that, The Gorillas will be playing for the Champeenship this coming Tuesday, August 15th @ 8pm. And guess what. We'll be playing the God Squad that has mysteriously had our number this year. (My theory? We've played them @ 6 both games and it hurts the Gorillas much more not being able to drink beer b4 the game than it does that psuedo prayer group. That, and pansy-ass Melon's always late to 6 o'clock games.)

So what's it gonna be, Gorillas? Are we gonna man-up and win this motherchucker, or, um, you know... not? If you can't get fired up for this game, well, I just don't know who you are anymore.

By the way, please feel free to use the Comments option. It is, afterall, kinda the reason we're doing this whole "blog" thing. Up till now, we thought "blogging" was something Flemwad's family did to livestock in the hills of Tennessee.

So Far, So Good.

Hello, and welcome to the o-fishal Gashouse Gorilla Softball Blog. The Gorillas hope to entertain and inform in the coming months as the journey of this truly, um, unique group of guys continues.

The Gorillas are not gonna waste a lot of time giving back-ground for those of you who have stumbled across this site and have no idea who the hell we are. If you really want to know, keep checking back here, and we're sure you'll get a good idea, and perhaps a belly-laugh or two. Honestly, the Gorillas do not care if you come back or not. We're just trying to entertain ourselves.

The picture above is a sample of the kind of crap we pull in a normal season. Last year's Taking Care of Business Nite. We, of course, continued w/ the Theme Night tradition this year, and pics will be turning up here soon.

The Gorillas admit that we're a little late in the game getting this here blog up and running. We've already ran thru a Spring league (undefeated, thanyouverymuch) and are nearing the end of the Summer league. Fear not, there will be a Fall league and plenty of shenanigans to babble on about.

If you've been lucky enough to check out our our old website, you probably realize we're pretty cool. And if you've always wanted to be able talk a little shit to us, well, this will be like Christmas to you, only shittier. If you've never seen our old site, go check it out using the link - but unfortunately, a lot of the funnier stuff was lost in a computer burp by the Bravehost. Coupled w/ the highly requested comments option Blogger has, this is why we're now on this here blog instead of a snazzy "website." We'll still be using the website for the stats - at least until someone can tell us how the hell to get them from an excell spreadsheet onto this here blog.

Check back soon, kiddies. Or don't. We don't really give a shit. But we can promise you, things will be at least slightly more interesting than this drivel.