The Brian’s Den Mission Statement

Welcome, fair reader to the Brian’s Den. Careful, dangerously powerful takes lurk around every corner.

Now, I’m sure you’re thinking “There’s at least 7 billion blogs out there. Why should I care about this one?” Great question, I’m glad you asked. Well, let’s run down what we’re all about here in the newest corner of the internet.


Who am I, you may ask? Just a guy living life to the extreme. I’m a writer, eater of food, and lover of sleeping. A true modern Renaissance Man.


My name is Brian. It sounds like lions den. Seems simple enough.


I’ll write about pretty much anything that comes to mind. Sports (I’m a big fan of the Boston sports teams. We don’t have enough representation online), video games, movies, current events, food, plants and animals, weather patterns, small town zoning board politics, anything. If we really get crazy, I may even combine sports with pop culture, and maybe throw some gambling in there, too. Don’t think that’s ever been done before.


Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But it makes you think.


Now we get to the true question. With so many (better) things to read out there, why should I bother with this crap? Because, ladies and gentlemen, whether or not you realize it, you need me in these trying times. I’m coming to you the day after Christmas 2016, one of the most emotionally trying times of my, and, presumably, everyone else’s life. The pure ecstasy of finally getting the Nintendo 64 I’ve been asking Santa for for years was quickly quelled by the sobering loss of a global icon. George Michael, co-founder of one of the top five musical duos of all time was cruelly taken from us. He gave his heart away this Christmas, but it turns out he needed it to survive. (Since I know you were wondering, Top Five Musical Duos: 1. LMFAO 2. Air Supply 3. Hall & Oates 4. Wham! 5. OutKast)

Good night, sweet prince

As the internet will gladly remind you, everyone in the world died in 2016. Well, let’s end the year with a birth. A new shoulder to cry on, a new lighthouse in the dark, a new site to read. So come with me on this journey through life, and I promise you will only be mildly disappointed.


Why has no one noticed JJ Redick’s tattoos?

At the beginning of last season, a truly shocking sight rocked me to the core. JJ Redick, perhaps the whitest player in the NBA, showed up with a full tattoo sleeve. There’s even photo evidence:


What the hell? I thought NBA Twitter would catch on and start trashing him. I thought there would be puff pieces about it on NBA Countdown. I thought he’d get an endorsement from Paper Mate since they both have so much ink. But nothing. Literally no one said anything about it. If Kobe had done something this unexpected Mike Wilbon would have done about five sit down interviews with him in a month. Well, I’ve been silent long enough. Someone has to address this. Pretend it’s November 2015 and you’re just seeing him for the first time. Actually, you probably had no idea he even got it until now.

Do we have a new bad boy in the NBA? All those girls at the poetry slams don’t stand a chance anymore. Getting chicks at the locavore coffee shops will be like shooting fish in a barrel for JJ. This is one of the most astonishing tattoos I’ve ever seen. I have no idea what the intent was for this. Did he want to add some edge? Become more mysterious? The end result is the most hipster looking pro athlete maybe of all time. It might be working since he dropped 40 last season. A dirty little secret of mine: I never really hated JJ Redick. I acted like I did, because our school already had our one Duke fan, and nothing got you kicked off the cool table in the cafeteria faster than being the second Duke fan in 2005. Don’t get me wrong, I hated that Duke team, maybe more than I’ve ever hated any other team, but most of my hate was directed at Paulus, Sheldon Williams, and Demarcus Nelson. I was still #teamMorrison, but I didn’t want Redick dead like most of America.

Not many things better than unexpected (i.e., white) athletes getting huge tattoos out of nowhere. It’s a foolproof strategy, too. People calling you soft and unathletic? Get a gigantic tattoo, now you’re the wild card. Maybe you’ve spent the offseason adding a killer low post game, maybe you’ve spent it freebasing under an overpass. It keeps everyone on their toes.

Best unexpected tattoos off the top of my head:

Andrei Kirilenko


AJ McCarron


Birman when he first showed up with the Nuggets


Lionel Messi


And of course, number one all time Robert Swift


What’s up with McDonald’s commercials?

Can we talk about a disturbing trend? Actually, I hesitate to call it a trend since it’s been going on for so long. But this most recent occurrence was really the last straw for me. I’m talking, of course, about how McDonald’s only uses skinny, good looking young people in their ads. Look at this:

That’s not what happens at McDonald’s! There’s no well dressed, affluent young people having a great time. There’s only shame, depression, and screaming kids. As a fat guy who loves McDonald’s, ads like these offend me greatly. McDonald’s is all about housing a ton of food when you’re drunk with your buddies or housing a ton of food when you’re alone in the middle of the day and trying to finish eating before anyone can realize how disgusting you are.
I can remember one of the commercials for chicken selects was pretty much a GQ photoshoot. The average McDonald’s ad these days has more hipster glasses and bowties than all of Williamsburg put together. Who is a better representation of McDonald’s? This:

Or this:


Food for thought.