Here’s a hint: if it’s not a book collection, it’s almost certainly illegal and bootlegged. The strip’s author made figuring that out quick and easy.
My newest from Cracked. Because sometimes, all you need to create timeless art is a financial kick in the ass.
A wrestler and his entrance music should go together like peanut butter and chocolate/jelly/sex. But sometimes, you wonder what ad wizard approved of some of these songs. An angry Irishman shouldn’t enter to a happy jig, and we as a society should not allow it.
When your name becomes synonymous with more than, say, four different personality flaws, you likely have issues a-plenty.
Every now and then, this column will focus on things that I missed out on as everybody else initially embraced. Once I finally gave said thing a shot, everybody else was an old hand in it, leaving me the dumb rookie who has no clue what’s going on while everybody else yammers about it like they were born with the knowledge of how to do it. In case you’re the kind of person who hates reading titles, I recently played fantasy sports for the first time, despite so many others doing it for years and years at this point.
Let me put it this way; for the longest time, I considered fantasy sports to be Mila Kunis, Taylor Swift, and Natalie Imbruglia running around, tackling each other, and wrestling for the ball while rain poured down all over them. And this would happen over and over and over again, regardless of the score. I realize that’s probably an old joke, the whole fantasy-girls-doing-fantasy-sports things, but I didn’t know any better. And you gotta admit; I picked a good starting line-up.
But I was challenged this year to do real (or at least as real as it gets) fantasy football, which is a great sport for beginners like me, as they only play once a week and you have a lot of time to pick your players. It’s also a great sport for forgetful types like me, as they only play once a week and you only have to remember to pick these players once a week. How people do fantasy baseball, where every team plays damn near every day, 162 times each, is absolutely beyond me. I tried fantasy basketball and didn’t make it two months before I kept forgetting to update my daily lineup and suddenly deciding it would be useless to continue. Because really, once you fall behind in your free fantasy league where there’s no money on the line, you really stand no shot at winning all that nothing. Might as well move on to more nothing.
Am I rambling again? Of course I am; it’s my gimmick. Back to point: how did the fantasy football turn out? Not bad, actually. I certainly did better than the guy who challenged me, who went 7-7 and missed the playoffs. I went 9-5 and made the playoffs, all after winning my first 5 games in a row, which was awesome. Less awesome was going 4-5 the rest of the way (and losing in the first round of the playoffs), but since this is my column, we’re not going to talk about that any more.
Fantasy’s weird; it’s truly the antithesis of team sports. Real sports teams are successful when they sacrifice individual ideals for the greater good of helping the team win. Many a player has mediocre individual stats, but enough rings to fill up at least one hand. And at the end of the day, most of these athletes are all about winning, and helping the team win. Fantasy, meanwhile, is all about the individual: how many points they score, how many yards they run, how many strikeouts they make, how many cheerleaders they get drunk and…well, never mind that last one. Again, totally different fantasy league.
My fantasy quarterback was Peyton Manning: superstar athlete, shameless endorsement whore, and master Oreo licker. Instead of Peyton Manning and the Colts sacrificing individual stats, lobbing short passes and varying amongst several receivers, in favor of pursuing the ultimate team stat (winning the damn game), I found myself rooting for Manning to light up everybody, garner a few hundred yards and a couple touchdowns per game, while hoping the rest of the team would crap the bed while still sleeping in it and lose the game for him. This only sometimes happened, and not often enough for my tastes.
I will likely continue to play fantasy, at least fantasy football. Once a week and I’m done, sounds perfect for me. Besides, NFL.com roped me in by offering a playoff fantasy league where the winner gets tickets for next years Super Bowl. Of course, there’s a decent chance the game won’t even be played, due to the pending lockout brought on by really rich people squabbling over how much richer they should be allowed to become. I’m in 98,000th place heading into the Super Bowl, which means less than 100,000 people remain that I need to hunt and kill. But mark my words: if I win, there will be no Super Bowl next year. I’m lucky like that.
Because nothing gets our blood pumping more than much good ol’ fashioned ado about absolutely nothing. Some guy who wrote plays awhile ago said something like that once.
This is the first volume of my bi-weekly (or, ideally, weekly) self-syndicated column. After all, Wednesday deserves some love too.
I was never the most child-like child. I never played with Transformers, didn’t see Star Wars until the Original Trilogy was re-released, and rooted endlessly for Ric Flair and The Undertaker to destroy Hulk Hogan at first opportunity. An old girlfriend theorized that I never was a childhood, and was beamed down from an alien spaceship at age 18, with some fake memories inserted to make me think I did, in fact, wear diapers and pick my nose in public once upon a time.
Or last week. But those are my personal habits. Don’t judge.
Another shining example, one that has bugged me up until today, is that I sat in the damn school bus and waited for it to stop and bring us to school. Meanwhile, countless other kids were yelling, running, switching seats, jumping around, and generally giving the poor bus driver a coronary. The Simpsons lied to us; there are no happy school bus drivers. Plenty of stoned ones, perhaps, but Otto is still a poor representative of the bus driver populace.
What was I thinking about as I sat there, waiting for the wheels on the bus to stop going round and round? “Why the heck are there no seat belts here?” Yes, instead of doing regular kid things, I wondered about things like seat-belts on school buses. Nobody really had an answer to give me for the longest time, probably because they were too busy having sex or not wearing seat belts in their cars to think about such inanity.
Well, thanks to Google telling you everything about everything in the universe, I now have my answer. It seems we don’t put seat-belts on school buses because, well, we don’t need them! According to the National Transportation Safety Board, who I’m going to assume don’t throw the greatest office parties in history, “school buses are designed with a clever occupant protection system…without the need for seat belts. This…is called compartmentalization: the seats are strong, closely spaced together, high backed, well padded, and are designed to absorb energy during a crash. Compartmentalization works best in frontal and rear impact scenarios.”
That and school buses are damn huge and would crush almost any car that dared to crash into them, unless it was a monster truck. Countless buses have given their lives so that Grave Digger might live and kids’ seats remain just FIVE BUCKS.
The NTSB offers a pretty neat explanation, but it still doesn’t answer all my questions. For one, if school buses use compartmentalization, why don’t any other vehicles? Compartmentalize your Kia, and you won’t need that little strap of leather anymore. Furthermore, non-school buses don’t have seat-belts either, and they couldn’t be less compartmentalized. The seats are not always close together (some are on the side of the bus, with nothing in front of them), and they’re sure as hell not well-padded. Sometimes they’re not padded at all. And yet, no seat-belts.
I don’t even think that it’s because of the size of a bus. Not completely anyways. The monster trucks I mentioned earlier have seat-belts, and they’re plenty big. I think back again to when I was young and sitting on the school bus, with all the other kids leaning over seats and jumping or running from one seat to another, and I can only come to one conclusion.
The real reason there are no seat-belts, in my opinion? Simple: how the hell could we enforce them? Sixty or seventy kids versus one half-awake driver; there isn’t a whole lot you can do in that case. Having a second or third adult on the bus won’t work, as having them stand up sans seat-belt would be counter-productive. Not to mention hilarious to the kids as they stumble and fall all over the place while trying to be the big, tough, authority figure. Basically, they pad the hell out of the buses and then just let the kids do what they may, because it’s easier. The driver will occasionally shout at them to sit down and shut up, but that’s just a minor job requirement.
I realize my theory still doesn’t answer why there are no seat-belts on regular city buses, where there are often more adults than kids. My only explanation there is that it’s a lot more acceptable to tackle an annoying adult who tries to run around and jump from one bus seat to another, than it is a child. Not to mention so much funnier.
Another new-ish one from Weird Worm. Sex with groupies using fish as props, I get. Snorting your uncle’s ashes because you’re all out of coke, I get. But some tales about rock stars are so monumentally dumb, you start to wonder why they were concocted in the first place.
New and true from Weird Worm. It makes sense that we would want to make our fantasies a reality, but sometimes, things should just stay fictional, as the real world version just doesn’t cut the mustard.
I know most of you have seen this already, but since I’m on a quest to document most everything I write, this simply must be linked. My first Cracked article, seen by a milllion-plus people since debuting on December 2. Beloved by all except the most hardcore Gordon Freeman apologists.
Wow, get one thing up on Cracked and everybody notices you. Hi to everybody who found me through Cracked, WeirdWorm, or random tumblr search. However you got here, I’m glad you got here.
When Cracked published me, I was on holiday in Brasil, visiting my in-laws. I’ve been back for a few days now, but a combination of jet lag, overnight shifts at my other job, and Christmas have kept me away from tumblr until now. Now I’m rested and ready to go. Hope you like my pretty avatar, because you’ll be seeing it more often now.
I’m currently posting many of my past writings on this here blog; I have two up on Gunaxin, but I can’t access them. Firefox is denying me access to the site due to malware being reported there. Sonuhmagun; I don’t spend time writing in order to give people frickin’ spamware.
Well, if this ever gets resolved, I’ll post those writings as well. They involve beer pong and Bugs Bunny dressed as a girl; the perfect combination!
If real aliens exist and want us dead, pray they’re as bad at their job as these guys are.
Some famous people suck up to their public and pretend that they don’t want to spit on us. Here, I chronicle a few that are just a bit more honest with their contempt for the little people.
If you watched these shows and didn’t run right out and spend a hundred bucks or so on useless colored plastic, then you were not a real fan.