Posts Tagged ‘stand-up comedy’


Photo from

I literally say this every year, but WE ARE GOING TO BE AWESOME THIS YEAR!  Every time I’ve said that in the past has been a bullshit lie and I knew it.  I mean, yes, I believed it at the time.  Yet, deep down I knew we would never win with Alexey Shved at anything other than a “Saddest Russian” contest?  Every year leading up to this I’ve just been trying to justify spending large portions of my adult life staking my happiness on 12 random men who aren’t even really from Minnesota mostly (‘sup, Tyus).

But this year is different.  This year, we might actually play an NBA game in May.  Has there been a Timberwolves game played in warm weather since Kanye West’s first album?  Dude’s like 40 now.  90% of the league doesn’t even know we can grow deciduous trees.  Anyway, we had a SUPER busy off-season and I will now grade each major move we made one by one, because I am a super qualified judge of basketball:

Minnesota trades Zach LaVine, Kris Dunn and the #7 pick to the Chicago Bulls for Jimmy Butler and the #16 pick.  


Zach LaVine is a slam-dunk champion who just wrecked his ACL.  That’s like a masseuse whose arms fell off.  Nobody wants a hook massage.  Kris Dunn is horrible.  Every single YouTube clip of him “breaking ankles” ends before the shot nears the rim because he shot like 2.5% from the field.  I think Kris Dunn is actually a Lacrosse player who accidentally walked into the NBA draft and they picked him anyway.  And the #7 pick ended up being some Finnish dude who I know next to nothing about but the Bulls chose him, so he surely sucks.  We fleeced these bitches!

Minnesota trades Ricky Rubio to the Utah Jazz for a 2018 1st round pick.  


I made up a grade lower than F because I’m so upset.   I had to take my signed, framed Ricky Rubio photo out of my office and put it in the basement earlier this summer. I knew he was going to get traded and I had to start mentally distancing myself.  I’ll never change this face, Ricky!  I would have “Thelma & Louise”ed right off this cliff with you!

Minnesota renounces rights to Shabazz Muhammad, Brandon Rush, Adreian Payne, and Omri Casspi.


Listen, anything that gets rid of Adreian Payne is an A+.  Drop Payne, Jimmy Butler and move the team to Belarus?  A+!  Not only does he look 45 at 25 somehow, but his ridiculously spelled first name has way too many vowels in it.  It’s like his mom was playing Scrabble when he was born and the doctor knocked the board over and she just went with it.  Oh, and he sucks.

Minnesota signs Taj Gibson 


I like Taj.  Yeah, he’s kind of past his prime and a little expensive, but so is HBO and that shit is good for at least three months out of the year.

Minnesota signs Jeff Teague

No grade

I will not acknowledge Jeff Teague as a human being until he apologies for breathing the air that Ricky would be breathing if he were here.

Minnesota signs Jamal Crawford 


Fuck it, why not? He’s super old and kind of like clicking on the “I’m Feeling Lucky” button on Google.  What’s the worst that can happen?  (Do NOT say Brandon Roy, Kevin Garnett 2.0 or Sam Cassell after the big nuts dance tore his hamstring.)

Minnesota signs Shabazz Muhammad for peanuts after he turned down a $44 million contract with us earlier in the summer. 


One time I got addicted to Ebay and bought an Ullr (the Nordic god of skiing and archery) pendant for $250 after getting into a bidding war with what in retrospect was surely someone in cahoots with the owner.  A year later I sold it on Ebay for $5.  This is how Shabazz must feel.

Minnesota signs Albert Brooks for an undisclosed amount of money.  (It’s actually Aaron Brooks, but I accidentally typed Albert Brooks and I loved him in “Finding Dory” so I’m keeping it.)

A+ for Albert Brooks, C for Aaron Brooks.

Minnesota reportedly offers Andrew Wiggins a five-year $148 million contract.


It’s a little high, but I love Wiggins and the good news is this is in Canadian money.  The exchange on this is actually $3 million USD and two Tragically Hip CDs.

The new jerseys 


I like them.  They kind of look like a gas station, but one that sells Pepsi Max.  Like…a GOOD gas station.  You can definitely get a fruit cup and poop in the toilet without getting hepatitis.

Our first preseason game of the year is on September 30 against the Lakers in Los Angeles.  Let’s see if Lonzo’s newest $500 shoes can make it through the exhibition season.




The Timberwolves currently have a bit of an issue at the point guard position.  Longtime fan-favorite/most-hated Timberwolf Ricky Rubio is clearly on the way out.  Personally, I love Rubio.  But like my non-existent hairline, sometimes it’s best to just realize there’s no saving things.  Kris Dunn appears to be Tom Thibodeau’s favorite for the future, which probably entails standing over his bed at night yelling “REST!  REST!!  NO NIGHTMARES!!!”  However, wee-little Tyus Jones is also coming on very strong.  What to do?


Ricky Rubio, possibly heading back to Mypos. 

Since Rubio will surely be out of the picture no later than this summer, I’m going to analyze the pros and cons of Kris Dunn vs. Tyus Jones and try to figure out who is best suited to start.



Kris Dunn, while still at Providence, doing some kind of Licorice Whip or something?  I don’t know how kids dance these days. Photo from




  • Those amazing ankle-breakers?  Well, he’s made like one of the shots that followed those.  That’s about as useful as doing a hand-stand on a car that’s driving into Lake Minnetonka.
  • He’s a rookie but is already almost 23, which makes him the oldest player on the Timberwolves. (Okay, not really, but kinda.  The Timberwolves probably couldn’t rent a car between the 12 of them.)
  • He’s the reason I am probably going to have to take my autographed Ricky Rubio poster and put it down in the basement next to the mouse traps and the giant painting of myself that I’m too embarrassed to display but am too egotistical to throw away.



Somebody made it for me and I gave them $50, okay?  Shut up. 


Tyus really needs to quit vaping. Photo from


  • One of the best shooters on the Timberwolves.  Did I make the prettiest girl at the meth clinic joke already?
  • Minnesota native like Bob Dylan, Kevin McHale and Tay Zonday.
  • Looks like a Furby.



  • Nikola Pekovic almost gets more playing time than him this year and Pek is somewhere in Montenegro right now laying on a couch drinking blood from a cauldron.
  • Minnesota native.  Nobody wants to criticize a hometown prodigy.  I’m from Iowa and we’ve had to pretend like we like Slipknot for like 20 years.  Nobody deserves that.
  • Has not returned any of my tweets asking if I can have his seat on the bench when he doesn’t play for 10 games straight.


In conclusion, we’re screwed.  Business as usual!

Next up we play the Suns in Phoenix.  They’re on a bit of a hot streak right now.  Here’s to hoping a wild herd of javelinas drags Eric Bledsoe off before the game.




Timberpups Howl!

The Minnesota Timberwolves are going to be good this year.  Of course I say that every season, but this time I mean it.  Yeah, we haven’t had a winning season for the entirety of this blog’s existence and the first post was literally about how we were finally going to be good that year.  But no joke we are probably going to possibly maybe not suck this year.  Did I jinx it?  Crap, I think I just jinxed it.

This isn’t like the time I thought Anthony Bennett was going to learn how to play basketball, or the time I pretended like Nikola Pekovic wasn’t Greg Oden with none of the talent and more of the drinking problem.  This is legit.  We are just like the 2009 Oklahoma City Thunder.  A very young team bursting with talent, who gradually grew from phenoms to a perennial title contender, only to be inevitably decimated and broken up by egos and Big Market aspirations.  Shit.

Here’s why I think we’re actually going to be awesome this year:  Damnit, it’s our turn.  I know that life isn’t about fairness but our season has ended in April for so many years that I’m not even sure that NBA players know Minnesota has warm weather anymore.  I don’t think the NBA is rigged, but they should 100% rig this season to give us at least a 45 win season.  45 wins!  I don’t think that’s greedy.   Just enough to give us an 8th seed in the Western Conference.  Then everybody will get to see Minneapolis in the springtime.  We’ll show everybody Dinkytown and the 30,000 apartment buildings that Bob Dylan might have slept in according to all the landlords.  We’ll take people pontooning and warn them about the dangers of speading Zebra Mussels.  Hell, we can even let people see St. Paul if they’re into trees or sleeping or something.  You know, the Minnesota experience.

This is our year.

Knock on wood.


Photo from

First game of the season is against The Grizzlies in Memphis on October 26.  Remember when they were the Vancouver Grizzlies before cell phones existed?  We were good then!



I’m going on vacation in Jamaica for a bit. Hopefully the Wolves win 100% of their games when I’m gone. I’ll be back in a couple weeks. Until then, check out my newest comedy clip on Rooftop Comedy. I’ll be headlining the House of Comedy in the Mall of America March 27 through 31. GO WOLVES!!!

Mike Brody’s newest comedy clip: Best And Worst Dog Ever

Nikola Pekovic – Photo from

Nikola Pekovic is my favorite Timberwolf.

He’s huge, he’s tough and he has a giant tattoo on his upper arm of a large cloaked warrior holding a broadsword that is crushing a pile of skulls.   I once mentioned on Facebook that only a 6’11”, 290 giant from Eastern European cold pull that tattoo off.  A stranger who had just friended me commented “Yeah, let’s hope he ‘pulls it off’ because that tattoo is lame-o.'”  Blocked!  You’d be better off insulting my kids in front of me than Big Pek.  (I don’t have any kids, but if I did I would force them…no, no, that’s wrong…encourage them to get the Pekovic tattoo in 6th grade as a way to fend off bullies.)

Honestly, I don’t get star-struck.  I’ve met a fair share of famous people and they usually just seem like regular human beings to me.

That said, if I met Pek I’d probably turn into a shaky-kneed little girl who just found out that One Direction is coming over for dinner.  I’ve already planned out what I’d do if I met him, where it would be and how many pictures/autographs I’d get.  (I’d scream and it would be in the the skyway.  One autograph and two pictures.)

Even a green-screen backdrop and a Crocodile Hunter hat can’t make Pek not look tough. Photo from

But dammnit, Pek, where the hell was your head last night?  His box score doesn’t look horrible at first glance.  He had a double-double with 11 points, 10 rebounds, two steals and a block.  But during a big stretch of the first half he fumbled, turned over and flat-out goofed everything up play after play.  He shot 5-13 and missed a handful of easy, gimme shots.  He looked horrible.

I’m not one of those people who thinks I can do better.  Yeah, I’m 6’5″ and 225.  But I’m shaped like a Weeble Wobble.  And I do fall down.  A lot.  I find it difficult to hold my arms in the air for more than three seconds at a time.  If my teeth get hit I get a headache and need to sit down for the rest of the day.  I am a pussy.  But when a professional athlete can’t do something that is supposed to be a given, it drives me insane.

And for Pek, that something is bunny shots.  He’s supposed to catch the ball and either pass it or take a shot that is preferably two inches from the rim.  But last night he couldn’t do either.  He looked like an Amish kid who just got tossed an Iphone.

Other noteworthy things from last night: Andrei Kirilenko didn’t play due to back spasms, which were apparently brought on by his horrible dragon back tattoo.  Derrick Williams threw down a thunderous one-handed dunk and then proceeded to play like an idiot for the rest of the game, Malcolm Lee showed some of his potential and Ricky Rubio was cleared for full-contact practice!!!

That is intensely positive news for the Timberwolves.  Everything changed last year after Rubio went down.  The air went out of the team, the fans, even Michael Beasley’s water-bong.  It does make me a little nervous, though.  I don’t want to rush him back only to have him crumble again like a fragile little Spanish Christmas ornament.  Cuidado, Ricky Rubio, cuidado.  Take your vitamins, stay away from Kobe Bryant and if a blue Robin Williams genie gives you some wishes, ask for three knees.

Photo from

Thank God for Sacramento!

There’s a sentence nobody’s ever said beforeIt ranks on the unused list right between “Why are you touching me, Kate Upton?” and “I volunteer for experimental vasectomy surgery.”

Two out of our six wins were against Sacramento.  The importance of that can’t be overstated in a year that we’ve lost to both Charlotte and Toronto.  Gah.  Really?  The Bobcats and the Raptors?  The Bobcats’ best players are Kemba Walker and a sandwich and I’m pretty sure every Raptors’ home game happened because the crowd wandered in on accident.   I cannot accept getting beaten by a team that named themselves after Jurassic Park.

It’s not like the Kings don’t have talent.  I fear the day that DeMarcus Cousins gets his head straightened out.  That guy is one of the most gifted basketball players to come into the league in years.  But he’s got some serious anger issues, especially for a third-year player who’s supposed to be paying his dues.  He’s been kicked out of practice for refusing to listen to the coach, removed from an airplane because of an altercation with a teammate and suspended two games for confronting Spurs’ announcer Sean Elliot after a game because he mentioned on-air that Cousins needs to learn a bit of humility.  Way to prove him wrong there, Gandhi.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a dick too.  But I don’t make 4 million dollars a year.  Drink some chamomile or something, buddy.  Put on some freak-sized yoga pants and get in touch with your inner sweetheart.  It’s not like someone ate your lasagna in the break-room at Walgreens.  You’re a famous, physically dominate millionaire.  Calm the crap down and don’t screw things up.  Then, when you’re done with the NBA and made your money, you can go asshole it up all over the world!   Go punch every Australian you meet.  Piss on the Eiffel Tower because it doesn’t understand you.  Tell a dolphin you don’t love it.  Whatever!

Take our own Luke Ridnour:

Dude’s one bag of meth from being an extra on Breaking Bad.  I guarantee he’s had a street name like “Booby” before.  But he keeps his mouth shut.  Last night he had 18 points and five assists.  He knows he’s not Chris Paul, so he works his ass off just to stay around.  He’s not making trade demands.  He just keeps on working on his middle school mustache and making shots when we need him to.

So even though the Kings have as much, if not more, physical talent than the Timberwolves, we still beat them through our patented combination of hard work and luck.  And nobody embodied that combination more last night than Kevin Love.  He had 23 points and 24 rebounds, 21 of which were defensive rebounds.  21!  That’s not just hard work, that’s John Henry.

And as far as the luck part goes.  Well, we’ve had more injuries than a Dance Dance Revolution party at a Crisco factory.  So if this is the shot that has to be the game-sealer for us, we’ll take it:

My name is Mike Brody and I’m a diehard Minnesota Timberwolves fan.

That really feels like an AA introduction.  Actually, being a Wolves fan is a lot like being an alcoholic. Years of crying, frustration, denial and blame followed by moments of clarity and giving up.  Then the relapses.  “This year’s going to be different!”  Sure it is.  Just keep telling yourself that while you pee your pants at Denny’s.

So for the sake of my sanity, I needed an outlet to vent about the highs and lows of being a fan of the boys in blue.  But mostly the lows.

Dear God, the lows.

Remember 2004?  Wasn’t that a great year?  We were so happy then.  We made the Western Conference Finals and then lost to a Lakers team that had a 65 year old Karl Malone on it.  Even our best memory sucks.

As I type this we are already eight games into the 2012-2013 NBA season and the Timberwolves are 5-3. Technically, we are massively over-achieving, even with the soft schedule.  And yet our injuries are almost at a maliciously bad level.  Five out of our top six players are hurt. This is why we can’t have nice things.

Here’s an incredibly brief run-down of each game of the season and my corresponding emotion:

Fri Nov 2 – vs. Sacramento Kings W 92-80 – Excitement
Sun Nov 4 – @ Toronto Rapters L 86-105 – Disappointment
Mon Nov 5 – @ Brooklyn Nets W 107-96 – Delighted shock
Wed Nov 7 – vs. Orlando Magic W 90-75 – Contentment
Fri Nov 9 – vs. Indiana Pacers W 96-94 – (Brandon Roy goes down with an injury) Worried but optimistic
Sat Nov 10 – @ Chicago Bulls L 80-87 – (Chase Budinger goes down with an injury) Panic
Mon Nov 12 – @ Dallas Mavericks W 90-82 – (Nikola Pekovic goes down with an injury) Incredulous exasperation
Wed Nov 14 – vs Charlotte Bobcats L 87-89 – Depression with a touch of understanding

Which brings us to tonight’s home game against the Golden State Warriors.  Who else can get injured?  Do we even have enough people for a game?  Can Crunch play in his mascot suit?  What are the odds of Jack Sikma straining his taint while reaching for a clipboard?

God, grant the Timberwolves the serenity to accept the things they cannot change (injuries), the courage to change the things they can (Derrick Williams) and the wisdom to know the difference (please win).  Peace.

The Timberwolves’ history summed up in one picture (AP Photo/Gregory Smith)