Yesterday, Side Salad broke a record for number of visitors.
Just wanted to say thanks, from the bottom of the bowl.
After a week's absence, I present to you the 12 most disturbing and astounding things I found this week while cruising the Web.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
1. A fetish I had no idea existed.
2. A worry that my son might do this one day.
3. A genie who needs to go back in the bottle.
4. A headache not even Advil can cure.
5. A fear that I may eventually look like this through no artificial means.
6. A person who spent a great deal of time and LSD designing this interactive site.
7. A device that could inevitably lead to use of a motorized and a Kraftmatic adjustable bed.
8. A magazine cover featuring nude women that holds no appeal to me.
9. A senseless crime that should never have been allowed to occur.
10. An invention that could make me obsolete.
11. A salty pretzel I don't care to bite.
12. A page of optical illusions that just might give you a headache.
A new feature at Side Salad: the Worth A Click links on the left column.
I realized I spent an inordinate amount of time talking about interesting Web sites in the body of the blog. Why not put them in one place and rotate them out fairly frequently?
Why not indeed.
Kick it old-school Activision style with a round of Kaboom.
There's some weird Flash animation at this site, some of which you can control just by moving your mouse. I wish I knew what it all meant.
What do you get when you mix a remote-controlled car, a video camera, and too much time on your hands?
This reminds me of a quote that Steve Martin once said:
"I always thought that Nixon could have used a banjo. 'First I'd like to talk about China, but first ... a little Foggy Mountain Breakdown.'"
Donald Rumsfeld writing a sex advice column? It could happen.
From Yahoo! News:
BAGHDAD, Iraq - Saddam Hussein's 66th birthday arrived Monday with none of the elaborate fanfare of the past and a spate of rumors that the deposed dictator was still alive and planning something dastardly to mark the occasion.
For days, Baghdad has been rife with rumors that Saddam planned to unleash some unspecified violence on the city to mark his birthday. There was no evidence that such a plan was afoot.
The day was a far cry from previous passages of April 28, the day Saddam was born to a poor family in 1937. In years past, mass singing, dancing, burning of the Israeli flag and general lavish praise of Saddam were commonplace across the land to fuel his self-promoted personality cult.
On Monday, however, many portraits of Saddam and most statues built in his image were gone or sat defaced, with his mustachioed countenance painted over or scratched off.
Apparently, the color bar you see above can be generated as the representation of the "DNA" of any website, (the one above is Side Salad's), using a simple algorithm that derives the colors and location of those colors from the HTML of that site. Whatever the hell that means.
Out of curiosity, I ran a few other sites for comparison:
Why do I have a feeling that this could happen so easily to Ms. Thang?
As promised, here are the pics from today's Devil Rays game. The Orioles beat the tar out of the Rays, 7-4.
Why O's pitcher Sidney Ponson couldn't have pitched like this last year when I had him on my rotisserie league is beyond me.
It's been a busy weekend at the Salad Bowl. But in a bid to make it even more jam-packed, I'm taking my boy and my mom to the Tampa Bay Devil Rays game today to watch them play the Baltimore Orioles.
I'll post photos of the day when I get back.
If you missed the hour-long interview between Tom Brokaw and President Bush, you missed an extraordinary bit of television.
Rarely does a president grant an extended interview like this on the run - Brokaw did the interview between war meetings and travel stops - without more control over the content.
The New York Times had a story today on their Web site about the broadcast. A transcript of the interview is also posted.
I also enjoyed the way that he batted away the thing that everyone has been making so much of a fuss about: anti-war comments by celebrities. To me, he put it in the context it deserved - that everyone has the freedom to speak their minds, as long as they understand the consequences.
Here's an excerpt from the story:
Mr. Bush also addressed the antiwar remarks of the Dixie Chicks, whose lead singer, Natalie Maines, said during a concert in London last month that she was "ashamed" that the president was a fellow Texan. Since then, the country superstars may have lost fans, but they are fighting back, in their fashion, by appearing naked on the cover of Entertainment Weekly.
"I mean, the Dixie Chicks are free to speak their mind," Mr. Bush said. "They can say what they want to say. And just because — they shouldn't have their feelings hurt just because some people don't want to buy their records when they speak out. You know, freedom is a two-way street."
If the thought of virtually stabbing your hand during horseplay bothers you, then this may be more your speed.
Nothing gets you ready for the weekend like a game of mumbleypeg.
Ask 19 different people in Orlando the same question, and you'll get a frightening glimpse into the psychic boulliabase of one of the most surreal places on the planet.
Hey, Chuck, might I suggest you seek some psychiatric help?
Today is Take Your Daughters/Sons to Work Day here at my place of employment. That's a departure from the simpler, less inclusive original tag of Take Your Daughters to Work Day.
For me, the day will always be, "Stop Cursing And Throwing Tantrums At Work Day."
If you haven't found your way to clicking on the link on the left to the gossipy Gawker site, you're missing a treat.
Like this photo and jokey cutline:
"Woody's new girlfriend"
As if you needed 300 reasons to love "The Simpsons."
No. 124. Ned Flanders' first name is actually Nedward.
For the times when you're full of woo that's longing to be pitched and you have no magnetic media with which to pitch said woo, click here.
One of my favorite artists is Keith Haring, who got his start drawing graffiti in the subways of New York City. Before he died in 1990 at age 31 from AIDS, he did almost as much for making pop art accessible during his generation as Andy Warhol did during the '60s and '70s. Adults as well as kids could relate to his figures.
This link takes you to an online coloring book that lets you create and color your own Haring characters.
Quote of the day:
"What are you supposed to do when a cow catches fire?"
Uh, put him out?
Let's all join hands and pray for Justin's soul.
A note to 20-somethings: You are not what you drink.
This story reminds me of an Easter egg hunt that became front page news when I lived in Anchorage.
Seems that there was more snow than usual that year along the hillside that surrounds Anchorage. The kids in their Sunday best were post-holing it in what for them was hip-deep snow, unable to move, much less find eggs.
To make matters worse, the snow had forced moose that normally grazed further away from town to come into neighborhoods to search for alder to eat. The best alder in town was in the field where the Easter egg hunt took place.
For the mathematicians reading along at home, here is your equation:
K + E + S + M = C (Kids, plus eggs, plus snow, plus moose, equals chaos).
Some kids got trampled by the moose. Some kids went missing in the snow for an hour and got hypothermia.
Which just goes to show, even the best plans by a parent are fraught with peril.
Such pain is what forms the basis for meaningful therapy later on in life, I like to think.
A postscript: The most satisfying part of the story was that the competing newspaper in town sponsored the event.
"I don't know how to feel about this," I told colleagues. "Normally when things go haywire at a public event, it's sponsored by us."
One of my favorite movies ever is a 1976 car race flick called The Gumball Rally. The story line involves a loose and diverse group of car buffs who race from Wall Street to the dock of the Queen Mary in Santa Barbara. One guy races a motorcycle. Two elderly British gentlemen drive ragtop Astin Martin. Two guys use a police car with switchable logos. The acting, by Michael Sarazin, Tim McIntyre and Raul Julia, is outstanding. Gary Busey makes an appearance as a - if you can believe it - crazy stunt car driver, is probably one of his best performances.
In the movie, the plans for the race start when Sarazin, as the bored corporate executive, leaves a board meeting, picks up a phone and utters one word into Tim McIntyre's ear: "Gumball..."
My favorite line is when Raul Julia as the Ferrari race car driver Franco Bertollini rips off the rear-view mirror at the beginning of the film and throws it back over the trunk of the car. He then utters a line that could very well read as my eptitaph:
What's-a behind-a me is-a not important!
The movie was modeled on the highly illegal Cannon Ball Baker Sea-to-Shining-Sea Memorial Trophy Dash that took place 30 years ago, and which has done so sporadically since then. The race was conceived by a "Car and Driver" writer and promoted in the magazine. That writer went on to do his own version of the film in the crap-filled Burt Reynolds "Cannonball Run" flicks.
I say all this to tell you that Gumball 3000 is under way, with drivers heading from San Francisco to Miami.
If you're like me, you're drinking a rich blend of pedestrian coffee, enjoying the perfectly blue sky outside while sitting inside in air-conditioned comfort and watching a new big-screen TV that the Easter Bunny brought as this thought trips across your brain: "You know, this is a blessed and serene moment of middle class life, but I need to know more about the ancient, colorful tradition of Ukranian Easter egg decoration, better known as pysanky."
If you're like me and you're intrigued by the mystery of the wax-resist process, click here.
If you're not, then go back to the coffee, the blue sky, the air conditioning and the big screen and have yourself a happy and a blessed holiday devoid of eastern European holiday culture.
So CNN.com made a little boo-boo and posted the pre-obits of some politicians and celebrities. No big harm, right?
Not to these Photoshop gurus.
Pull up a chair. You'll be reading a while.
And bring a tissue, too. You'll want to wipe up the laugh-produced snot.
The symbolism swirling this week has been obvious and pervasive.
Good Friday ... liberation from sin.
Iraq ... liberation from tyranny.
Passover ... liberation from oppressors.
Detroit Red Wings ... liberation from the Stanley Cup Finals.
Okay, that last one was a stretch.
But I've been thinking a little lately about the term "Weapons of Mass Destruction" and the fact that pundits are clucking about us having not found the chemicals we were alleging that the Iraqi regime had.
And then I read about 120 people in a bunker being freed by our tanks. And about Kurds finding thousands of bodies in mass grave sites. And about elaborate and horrific torture chambers. And about a prison for toddlers and children in southern Iraq that was liberated by our military.
Forget drums of chemicals. There's been a holocaust of Iraqi souls going on for three decades. The mass destruction caused by the pain and tyranny and persecution and murder pales in comparison to what a cloud of serin gas could do.
Just read a story about the psychic impact back home from the ambush in the early part of the Iraq War upon the Army's 507th Maintenance Company.
This was a telling passage about the caliber of soldiers we have and the maturation process that goes on within their ranks.
""You have to remember, these are new soldiers,'' said Col. Fondacaro, who oversees four of nine training battalions at Fort Jackson. ""Four months ago, they came to us after playing their last Nintendo game.''
On Tuesday, I posed a link to a site with bad baby names. My friend Charlotte, who was in a group I went to Europe with - gasp - 21 years ago, e-mailed me a link today to examples of hilariously bad baby names.
I'd say more, but I have to go soak my teeth now and take my Metamucil.
In the interest of being fair to CNN for poking them in the ribs about their pre-obits they mistakenly posted, I'll admit that I have a little fun with mortality on a Web blog I run at Reaper's Delight.
It's just a couple of my friends and I participating in a non-parimutual dead pool, but it's highly competitive. There are some great picks in there, not the least of which is Warren Zevon, Ahmed Chalabi, and Eddie, the dog from Frazier.
My pics for 2003 and the reasons for my choices:
1. Prince Michael Jackson II - 1 - He's one balcony away from dropping me 99 points. (By PMJII I'm referring to his youngest baby. Not MJ's first.)
2. Eminem - 30 - These days everybody wants to play like they got something to say but nothin' comes out when they move their lips. Just a bunch of gibberish. The mutha$!%#ers act like they forgot about Death.
3. Billy Graham - 84 - I'm hoping that everyone else will pick JPII to shake his way over the side of his Popemobile, so I can sneak in with the original BeeGee. I like to think of him as the other white pontiff.
4. Gary Busey - 58 - He may be too stupid-crazy to die, but I'm just guessing that the Bucked-Toothed Bonehead will find a way to fly off the back of his hog and grate himself along a particularly abrasive off-ramp of the Pacific Coast Highway.
5. Gregory Peck - 86 - How best to kill a mockingbird? One peck at a time.
6. Alexander Solzhenitsyn - 84 - When he goes, only the Amish, the lead singer of the Spin Doctors and Billy Bob Thornton will possess ugly facial hair.
7. Maurice Gibb - 53 - How deep is his love? Maybe 6 feet deep. (Applaud me for not making a joke about "staying alive, staying alive.") DOD: 1/12/03
8. Lady Bird Johnson - 90 - She's survived Texas poverty, marriage to Lyndon, the birth of an ugly daughter, living in the White House, proximity to Robert McNamera, Vietnam, a tragic nickname and - in May - a stroke. C'mon, gravity. Take this tough old bird down.
9. Johnny Tapia -35 - boxer. (Substitution for Zsa Zsa Gabor - 85 - Goodbye, city life!)
10. Johnny Cash - 70 - Because he's mine, he'll soon flatline.
As you can see, I nailed Maurice Gibb, but only because I saw a wire story on him going into the hospital the day before he died (which also was the last day for our picks). I racked up 47 points, but not without a few harrumphs from my competitors.
Out of the 120 celebrities, only two have passed this year, Gibb and Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who looked dead for about the past 20 years.
Hasta la vista, Protein Gene.
At the risk of appearing to elevate the death of a journalist over that of a soldier, I pass along this story.
If the Web site is any indication, walk, don't run, to see this movie.
Be sure to check out the trailer. I laughed so hard, I had to stuff a lung back in.
This is what happens when you piss off Bubba.
Heaven can wait. CNN can't.
That was two excrement-laced postings in a row.
I have severely chastised myself for this bungee drop into potty humor.
For one thing, it's exstink.
Just when you think the Web couldn't get any more scatalogical something like The Movie Poop Scene Database shows up on your screen.
And then morbid fascination grips you by the throat for the next 4 hours of reading pleasure.
My mom said she gave me a name she thought a banker would have. Didn't work.
But at least I don't have a handle that's anything nearly as tragic as these people.
"Meet Saddam Hussein, my new partner in evil."
--"Satan," "South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut," 1999
"A retired banker living in Switzerland spent 10 years helping Iraqi President Saddam Hussein hide millions of dollars via a bank account under the name of Satan, Britain's Sunday Times reported."
--the Age (Melbourne, Australia), April 14, 2003
Tampa! I love ya!
The New York Times:
In the latest in a chain of spectacular jailbreaks at French prisons, three inmates were freed today by accomplices who descended on a prison in central France in a helicopter, then used a buzz saw to rip through security netting to reach the men, two of whom were said to be drug dealers.
The jailbreak, at a high security prison at Luynes, near Aix-en-Provence, was the third major prison break in a month and the fifth this year. They have embarrassed the government of Prime Minister Jean-Pierre Raffarin, which has put domestic security at the top of its legislative agenda, and are prompting the government to rethink security in French prisons, which are heavily overcrowded.
I understand when people say they don't see the connection between the events of 9/11 and the liberation of Iraq. I do. I'd bet the mortgage that money flowed freely between that country and Al Qaeda, but I know there are some people who don't agree. And that's cool.
But for the life of me, I don't understand when people say that ownership ownership of an SUV is somehow tantamount to endorsing or even promoting war. As if a couple extra gallons of consumption is the equivalent of putting a bullet in a rifle or a shell in a mortar.
A point of personal disclosure: I just traded in a Jeep Grand Cherokee and bought a Volkswagon Jetta Wagon.
Smaller car, better fuel efficiency, right?
Yes and no.
On the highway, I get a whopping 34 miles per gallon. Not bad. At least on paper.
But my tse-tse sized four-speed engine gets only roughly 20 or so miles to the gallon in the city. Compare that to my Ford Explorer's 17 miles per gallon in the city and, well, you can see that the difference ain't much. And since I do most of my driving in the city and not on the wide open spaces of Florida's highways (yeah, right), then the mileage comparison is negligible.
To draw out the example further and show the ludicrousness of switching to a midsize car from an SUV, understand that it now takes two smaller cars - yes, TWICE the gas consumption - to get the same number of people to an event that an SUV used to take in one trip.
How stupid is that?
So what I'm saying is that to attack and deface privately owned vehicles in a simplistically symbolic gesture - not a government SUV or a military SUV or even an SUV owned by an oil company executive - well, that's just beyond moronic.
Especially when the original goal was to drive home a message of non-violence and peace.
This week's headlines from my Onion day-by-day calendar:
Doritos Celebrates One Millionth Ingredient
Students Prepare Breasts For Increased Springtime Display
My Moroccan Neighbors Won't Stop Their Damn Ululating
News In Brief:
Oh, Area Man's Aching Back
Murder Suspect To Be Tried By Media
Overworked Justice System Grateful For Help
6-Year-Old Cries When Told MTM Productions Kitten Dead By Now
Ping-Pong Somehow Elicits Macho Posturing
"Boo-Ya! How You Like Me Now?' Says Ping-Pong Playing Man
Nation Fills Up On Bread
When the Salad bowl goes empty, I can always rely on my friend Rob for a handy joke e-mail.
Rob, who goes by the cowboy nickname "Coyote," (He has a lovely campfire falsetto that he employs while dishing out food at Mexican lunch buffets.), doesn't e-mail often, but when he does, it's golden.
SUGGESTED NAMES FOR NEWLY LIBERATED IRAQI TOWNS
4. Waddi-El Izgowinon
I wish I had to look harder for a dozen disturbing things to start the week with.
In no particular order they are:
1. A nymph that contaminates food with excrement and secretion of an unpleasant odor.
2. A bug which no one knows how to stop.
3. A fetish I had never heard about.
4. A guy I hope I never have to save with cardiopulmonary resuscitation.
5. A little head.
6. A possibility I don't even want to think about.
7. A museum I shall never visit.
8. A career I'm glad I will never have.
9. An auction item upon which I shall not bid.
10. A horse which has no resemblance to Lynda Carter.
11. A school which I won't be attending.
12. A tattoo that no amount of alcohol or drugs can convince me to get.
No wonder Shatner was always horny.
This 85-pound cabbage won second prize in the 2002 Alaska State Fair.
Forget the MOAB. We should have dropped this mutha on Baghdad instead.
My buddy Alan sends along this photo from a visit Thursday night to see the Vero Beach Dodgers play at home against the Palm Beach Cardinals.
One of the great things about minor league baseball is the teams' reliance on goofball stunts to get fans to come out to the park. Al and I have seen some great promotions in our time. In Vero Beach one year, we were fortunate to see the Dodgers play on Halloween weekend. A woman dressed up as a baseball took first place.
Then there was the time we drove at breakneck speed to catch the middle of a St. Lucie Mets doubleheader because the break between the two games was when a mascot kickball game was going to take place. We arrived to find a surreal landscape of a baseball infield filled with, among other things, an IHOP pancake, a Burger King Whopper, a side of fries and a towering loaf of Wonderbread.
Forever burnished in my brain is the image of Pinch-A-Loaf (actual name) rounding third after kicking a tremendous shot to left field. As the loaf passed third, centrifugal force kicked in as the runner struggled to get the top end of the loaf back to 90 degrees. As the speedy bread bag tilted at a 45-degree angle, a high schooler in a panther costume that was about 14 sizes too big did her best to hit the cutoff burger but was unsuccessful in nailing the food group at the plate. Mighty Pinch-a-Loaf had already registered an inside-the-park home run. To this day, he owns the American Mascot League record for on base percentage by a whole grain product.
Anyway, Al sent along a photo from Thursday's excursion, with the following caption:
This guy participated in the Twinkie-eating contest. Was supposed to eat 20. Ate only 6. How sad.
My favorite part of this product's sales pitch is the note on the company's Web page under the "Accessories" header:
Doggles microfiber drawstring carrying pouch, $5
This site kinda makes you wonder what actors would do if the phone hadn't been invented.
Here's a little sumthin' sumpthin' from Iraq to warm your heart. (Registration on the site is required to read the story.)
Jesus, the stuff coming out of that place about the past three decades is beyond comprehension. Each story is worse than the next.
Think about this guy's position; he knows information, has the means to broadcast it, but knows that if he does people will die.
Sort of makes my little corner of the journalism world look silly.
We should use the truth lariat on him.
Nothing like a little free advertising.
A new feature here in the Salad bowl: an online gallery.
You'll find the first two by clicking on the above link, or, more permanently, in the links column under the header, um, PHOTO GALLERY.
I promise not to solely focus on athletic events in the west central Florida region.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
10. "Uday, are you going to eat that pickle?"
9. "Bunker for six, please"
8. "You have some shwarma in your mustache"
7. "A double for me and a double for my double"
6. "I know we're winning the war, but there do seem to be an awful lot of American tanks around"
5. "What was I thinking putting 5,000 dinars on Kansas?
4. "Can we still have these weekly dinners when we're in hell?"
3. "What do you mean Bloomberg won't let us smoke in here?"
1. "More salad, Geraldo?"
From the New York Times:
The antiwar forces, who have had to contend from the start with the widespread belief that their position is unpatriotic and unsupportive of American troops engaged in deadly combat, must now bear the additional burden of arguing with success. American losses are relatively small: 96 dead to date, compared with 200 a day at the height of the Vietnam War.
It's not easy buying green.
"Saddam is not an Arab champion. The war is practically over, did he win? No, and Iraq is destroyed," said Ayman Abdel Rahim, a Cairo butcher.
"Saddam Hussein is proving for the thousandth time that he is stubborn, stupid, idiotic and a terrorist. He is more like the head of a gang and not the president of a respectable state like Iraq," said Sultan Nasser, 49-year-old Saudi bank employee.
In Cairo, people gathered around television sets in shops and coffee houses watching U.S. troops toppling a huge statue of Saddam in the heart of Baghdad and Iraqis dancing on it.
"It seemed that Iraqis were all with Saddam, now it looks like many didn't like him. Maybe those destroying the statue are rebels against Saddam's rule," engineer Magdy Tawfiq said as he watched Saddam's statue being toppled by a U.S. tank.
"It's like a movie. I can't believe what I'm seeing," said Adel, a lawyer in Beirut. "Why didn't he just give up to start with if this was all the resistance he could muster? Instead of wasting all those lives for nothing."
CAIRO (Reuters) - Arabs watched in disbelief on Wednesday as Iraqi President Saddam Hussein, described by one Moroccan as the Arab world's "best dictator," lost Baghdad to U.S.-led forces without a fight.
My favorite moment of media coverage today included a momentary stumble into Fox News. I find myself incapable of watching that channel, even for morbid curiosity sake, but morbid curiosity got the best of me.
Anyway, I saw them wrapping up an interview with an expert. I waited to see what his credentials were.
Turns out he wrote an article about the cruelty inflicted by Saddam's nutty sons.
Oh, I thought. That's interesting.
Then I heard the name of the publication in which it ran.
Could Lester Holt be more omnipresent on NBC and MSNBC?
The guy was on the "Today" show this morning. Then he anchored things most of the day on MSNBC. Except for a respite from - of all people - Keith Olbermann, he's been going all day long. He's on there now.
He's gotta be on some sort of cheap trucker's speed.
Read about Britney's big bust.
Remarkably, it has nothing to do with her chest.
Could someone cover her up, please?
Get some dignity, girl.
The posting for today at The Meditation Tip of the Day:
If you understand, things are just as they are.
If you do not understand, things are just as they are.
So, if you peel out in your Tires of Pride, would you technically be burning a rubber flag?
Saddam's doctor called a meeting of all the Saddam look-alikes.
"Men, I've got some good news and I've got some bad news!"
"The good news is Saddam is still alive."
"The bad news is he lost an arm."
Color me paranoid, but I think my dog is doing this to my toothbrush at this very moment.
Always a bride's maid but never a bride?
I know why.
Because bride's maids have to wear hideous shit like this.
Some people long to run away and join the circus.
Other people take the circus with them.
I clearly have too much time and too many weird concepts in my head.
As the new owner of a Jetta wagon, I couldn't be more pleased at these results.
Went to see the Tampa Bay Lightning play their second-to-last game of the regular season last night against the Philadelphia Flyers. They lost 4-1, unfortunately, but it didn't matter. Sat in the second row, with my son Brian in the first, just to the right of one of the goals, and watched bodies go flying and crashing.
If you've only watched hockey on TV and never had a chance to see it up close, you're really missing something.
Oh, and Brian got a puck.
That makes one professional baseball and one professional puck obtained in a two-week period.
This kid, I swear, has the LIFE.
I'll post hockey photos as soon as I can figure out how to shrink them down to manageable size.
If there's a God in heaven, he'll stop this from happening.
Great first person article from the Weekly Standard about a reporter's efforts to get into Iraq from Kuwait.
This might be the first war story I've read that didn't require you to put on your slant filter. It's just straight reportage.
My favorite line:
"I don't usually start this early, but holding yourself to a drinking schedule is always the first sign of alcoholism."
Raise a glass for Perri. He'd raise one for you. Repeatedly.
God help these people if they ever wind up in prison.
Am I apathetic?
So much for getting my Smart on.
Wearing a circa 1982 Member's Only jacket would also accomplish this.
Where to start with this story...
Do you make fun of the kid's nickname? Do you goof on how his wife will have to get him into R-rated movies for the next three years? Maybe you mock the fact that "the man of her dreams" probably needs to shave only once a week?
Some things just speak for themselves.
Can you tell this guy only got started recently?
This has to be an existance not unlike the one enjoyed by the guy who spends eight years in medical school only to later specialize in stuffing implants into strippers.
I wanna be inflated.
If you're a professional Michael Jackson lookalike, what image do you choose to look like? This? That was so five noses ago, compared to this.
What's sick is that the second guy looks like he had surgery to make himself look like that.
Or at least a lookalike you can hire for parties.
Hey, look. It's a link to something that has a relation to food.
In a blog named Side Salad, no less.
It's about goddamn time, I say.
Two atoms are walking down the street.
One stops suddenly and shouts, "Hey, I've lost an electron."
The other atom asks, "Are you sure?"
The first atom replies, "Yeah, I'm positive!"
Laugh, or I'll start posting Star Trek jokes.
For those who missed the breathless reports on ESPN early Tuesday, New York Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter dislocated his shoulder in a head-first collision at third base in Monday's opening game against the Toronto Blue Jays.
Big deal? In the baseball world, sure. Next to Steinbrenner, Jeter is the face of the Yankees. Losing him dents the leadership on the team, creates a hole in the lineup for who knows how long and suspends a stellar career.
But was there a reason to keep replaying the agonizing scene? I counted nine replays in less than four minutes at the front of SportsCenter Monday night. Nine times. From several different angles. During two different segments. That doesn't include the shots of him rolling around on the field, nor the tape of him being interviewed after the game with his arm in a sling. (I've always been amazed when athletes in severe pain take time to answer questions immediately after a game. As if they owed us an explanation.) For good measure, three more versions were shown by the end of the hour-long broadcast, bringing the total to 12 replays.
But this is standard in sports television journalism now. The injuries are as much a part of the entertainment during highlight shows as the games are. It's not a full report unless you can literally see the ankle snapping off the leg of the University of Miami running back or the driver flipping a dozen times in the infield. How many times do we have to see the back of Greg Louganis' skull hit the diving board? What's the minimum amount of replays it takes to make the point that Dave Dravecky's cancer-riddled arm almost snapped off his torso? How many anniversaries of "The Punch" are we going to need to retell the story of how Kermit Washington caved in Rudy Tomjanovich's face? Where do you draw the line in showing Dale Earnhardt's death in Turn 4? Ten times? A hundred? A thousand?
Are such events part of the sport? Absolutely. Is it news? Without a doubt. But showing it over and over like its the Zapruder film is beyond sadistic. Incessant showing of a hockey player's head slamming into the boards or a football player's neck snapping back in a punishing recoil of a tackle turns the viewer into a vulture.
The best part: If you missed it the first time, SportsCenter -- not to mention its ESPN News companion -- regurgitates the scene over and over during back-to-back replays of the show well into the next morning and afternoon.
They say that war coverage in Iraq is dulling the senses. What I've seen on ESPN on a routine basis for years qualifies as spectator-driven agony worthy of Thunderdome.
By the way, the Yankees won, 8-4.