Does anyone know how to get vomit out of suede?

Last week my buddy J threw a late Oktoberfest party. Lots of friends came from out of town, lots of German beer was consumed and former roomie B's fiance C threw up all over my jacket at a bar. The next morning I made breakfast for 16 people. Luckily I was still drunk [ergo not yet hung over] when I started cooking so I was able to pull it off. I started feeling sick around 4 or 5 pm and was asleep by 7:30. I'm still dead-tired from all of this and I have heartburn. What a drag it is getting old. Besides the hangover, I also feel old because my friend Local Celebrity Dan brought his new baby over to the breakfast. My friends have babies = I'm old. Local Celebrity Dan's baby is pretty frickin cute, but it sure looks like a lot of work. I think I'll hold off on making babies for a while. I've also been swamped at work, which is part of the reason I haven't posted in a while. [The other part of the reason is that I'm totally boring and have nothing to post about]. So today's post is going to just be a couple links about some former Packers.

The JS is reporting that Milwaukee's new arena football team named its new head coach: Gilbert Brown. This strikes me as a move to put buts in the seats, not to win games. Maybe that's not fair to Gilbert. Maybe he's a genius, but I don't think so. A friend of mine once got Gilbert's autograph at a Hardy's. This friend has a hyphen in his first name. It's French. When Gilbert asked him to spell his name, Gilbert looked dumb-founded when my friend said "hyphen" and then he proceeded to make a comma instead of a hyphen. It's probably the awesomest autograph I've ever seen.

In other Green Bay news, Packer legend Max McGee passed away on Saturday. The 75-year old fell off his roof as he was cleaning out the gutter and I can't think of a worse way for a guy like McGee to go out. Max McGee wasn't your typical straight-laced Lombardi era Packer. He was a party animal. His most well known tale involves his Super Bowl I performance, and more interestingly, the night before. John Wiebusch at AOL Sports has a fantastic article about the night and the big game.

The morning sun was peeking its nose over the palm trees on Sunset Boulevard and the still-lit neon lights of the Whiskey-a-Go-Go were almost surreal in the early morning glow of Jan. 15, 1967.

Max McGee, wide receiver for the Green Bay Packers and man about town in every town he passed through, was saying good night and/or good morning - it all depended on your point of view - to three full-figured stewardesses, two in the fashion rage of the day - hot pants - and one in a mini-skirt.

"Ladies," McGee went on, "it’s been a festival, as always. You are all too beautiful for words. I only hope that I more than made up for the disappointment of Paul Hornung not being here."

"Oh, Max, you were just WON-derful," said the one in pink leather hot pants.
They hugged him and he squeezed back as three cabs arrived - one to take one of the stews to her day job in the friendly skies, another to take the other two home. McGee slipped $20 bills into the cabbies' hands.

The third cab would take Max McGee back to his day job, momentarily operating out of the Hilton Hotel on Wilshire Boulevard, near downtown Los Angeles and a 10-minute ride from the Los Angeles Coliseum, where the pro football team for whom he played, the Green Bay Packers, would meet the Kansas City Chiefs that afternoon for bragging rights in pro football.

Forty-five minutes later, Max McGee was running a screen pattern through the lobby of the Hilton, using potted plants and pillars as his cover to avoid the one man he did not want to see - head coach Vince Lombardi...

Read the whole thing.