Yes, it's The Official Random Final Day Off of the week, which means this post will likely be faily lame/mailed-in... The Ford feels bad about it, but well, You're not paying for it, dear reader, and The Ford's gotta sleep sometime...

Normally, with the announcement that The Ford's phoning it in, well, obviously, that's when he nuts up and delivers 900 words on something as inane as the Miss Universe Pageant. Tonight, though, well, he's already abandoned traditional punctuation, and broken out not one, but TWO elipses. And you know, he can feel another one coming, right .... here.

Of course, he's waiting for his laundry to finish, so he can run it for another drying cycle -- The Ford likes his undies piping hot, damn the environment -- so it's time to break out the trusty stream-of-conciousness approach.

In other news, The Official Competition has Detroit "hooked on hookahs," which, really, is just begging for a good Michigan Avenue joke. Of course, The Ford is fresh out of good Michigan Avenue jokes, so he's just gonna retreat into the happy memory of seeing his first hooker walking near Dearborn. And his vaguely less happy memory of seeing his first hookah, standing still with some high school hipsters in Royal Oak. Then again, considering the pictures of the gals staring at the camera as they suck on a heated tube, well, it's not as farfetched a connection as The Ford first thought. (Yeah, in one fell swoop, The Ford's ruined smoking devices and prostitutes for himself. A solid night's work.)

Of course, you read about the hookahs, and you're hit by this quote: "For Gerrit Littrup's 18th birthday, friends bought him a 35-inch hookah from Israel that they use several times a week in their parents' homes.
'They don't like it,' said Littrup, of Bloomfield Hills, 'but I am 18, so they can't really do anything about it.' "

Other than, y'know, kick his 18-year-old rear out o' the house.

(The Ford's not sure whether he's bitter at Mr. Littrup because by age 18 he was already working on his second year of college -- and not spending a lot of time at his parents' place -- or just some weirdly viral dislike of Bloomfield Hills kids held by downtown Detroiters. Probably the former; they've got some good restaurants out in Bloomfield Hills.)
Not at all related to hookahs or hookers, meanwhile, it's time to check in with the surprisingly deep world of NFL cheerleaders:

1.) Gimme An "F"! Gimme an "H"! Fimme an "M"!
OK, it's a long ways to go, but FHM is pulling out its annual cheerleader issue.

Annual?

Because there's nowhere else one can go to get semi-risque photos of NFL cheerleaders? (And, for what it's worth, considering The Ford's exhaustive and exhausting coverage of the NBA Dance Team bracket, when is the NFL gonna get it's dance team playoffs going? The Ford's putting big money down on the SeaGals, if only because he went to school with one of them.)

2.) It's not unusual... to open for Tom Jones.
Not much here, other than to note that, a.) Miami's cheerleaders are fine with about 8 "I's" (perhaps a Miami cheerleading dynasty in the making after a dominating win in the NBA world?) and, b.) Tom Jones looks really weird -- alternate-universe-Star-Trek universe weird -- with the Van Dyke.

3.) One of these things is not like the other...
Oh, Baltimore. The Ford knew you'd had it rough, but, seriously, dudes as cheerleaders? Unless there's at least three human pyramids per game, The Ford's gonna feel cheated.

4.) Oklahoma, OK!
OK, The Ford knows that teams don't usually take their dance squads with them when they change cities. But it might make for a damn interesting TV show to take the five winners of THIS reality show -- who will dance for the Sonics dance team this season -- and ship 'em to OKC for a year. Then again, Seattle doesn't need to EXPORT any hot women, y'know?

5.) Best. Ice Capades. Ever.
Five words: NHL. Cheerleaders. On. Ice. Seriously.
Did Janet Jones have something to do with this? 'Cause The Ford might put down money on how soon the first concussion for the Coyotes' "Pack" happens. Then again, 16 of 30 NHL teams have some sort of dance squad, so maybe they know what they're doing.