Best Sports Headline Ever?

Brian S. found what may be the best sports headline ever (it's a hyperlink, so go ahead and click it!):

Trojans Come From Behind Against Beavers

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HOLY FUCKING SHIT! A ZOMBIE!

OPEN LETTER TO THE MOVIE PRODUCERS OF THE WORLD.

Here's a quick pitch for a horror movie I'm writing. It's short (both the pitch and the movie). The working title is "HOLY FUCKING SHIT! A ZOMBIE!"

The story is this:

There's this hot, incredibly hot, unbelievably hot babysitter, right? She's about 23-years-old, smoking body, blond, huge surgically enhanced breasts. She's not really important to the film, except that it'll give you the opportunity to use the old "casting couch," if you catch my drift, and I'm guessing that you do.

In any event, the hot babysitter is watching a rambunctuous, yet-humorously-worldly 9-year old boy. After the boy has done the standard stuff that all young boys do in horror movies (i.e., using his camera-phone to take pictures of the hot babysitter giving hand-relief to her boyfriend, and then posting the pictures on a moderately-priced website) -- or maybe this happens while he's uploading the pictures (this is a flexible concept) -- the babysitter hears blood-curdling screams coming from his bedroom.

She ignores the screams. I mean, why the fuck not, right? She figures that the parents will come home to a quiet home, figure that the little fucker is sleeping peacefully, and then give her a nice tip. And why should she care what the fuck happens to him, anyway? He's only giving her 15% of the website proceeds, fucking piece of fucking shit that he is. Says he needs the remaining 85% to pay for "bandwidth," whatever the fuck that is.

When the parents come home, they are impressed that the house is clean and quiet, and are about to give the babysitter the aforementioned tip when ... oh my gosh! ... they see blood spilling out from underneath the boy's closed bedroom door.

Hilarity ensues.

END OF PITCH.

Good, huh? You can have your people call my people and we'll do lunch. (I prefer hamburgers.)

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Women Are Not Funny

"Weaseling out of things is important to learn. It's what separates us from the animals ... except the weasel." - Homer Simpson

And so that brings us to today's insight: WOMEN ARE NOT FUNNY.

For the people who know, accept and respect this Obvious Truth, you may skip down to paragraph 3 ("WHY DON'T WOMEN APPRECIATE HUMOR?"). For the rest of you, I can offer ample proof.

PROOF #1. Margaret Cho is a woman. There is nothing, living or dead, that is less funny than Margaret Cho. Even Mother Angelica, the 385-year-old nun who hosts "Why Your Soul Will Suffer Everlasting Torture" on the religious network EWTN, is funnier than Margaret Cho. Even Mormons are funnier than Margaret Cho. If there was such a thing as Funny Mountain, where the exalted Ruler of All Humor reigned from its apex and the rest of humanity resided at the altitude commensurate with their internal funniness, Margaret Cho's domicile would be two levels below the Mole People.

PROOF #2. Homer Simpson is a man. There is nothing, living or dead, that is funnier than Homer Simpson.

PROOF #3. ALLFUNNYQUOTES.COM. This website is universally accepted as the Ultimate Arbiter of Knowledge and Truth; I know this for certain because, on the day that I visited the site, the front page had a banner ad for Hooters.

In any event, AllFunnyQuotes lists the 10 funniest quotes ever. Of these, 8 were spoken by men; the other two were spoken by women about men.

PROOF #4. About three years ago or so, one of my female friends compiled data in response to this question: what are your favorite movies? She eventually discussed the results of that poll here: The Marriage Files.

I reprint, without her permission (she'd only deny me permission, so why bother asking?), part of her analysis:

"[A]bout half of the men ... name[d] either The Godfather or Apocalypse Now. ... Running a close third was The Matrix[.] ... After the three front-runners came a whole spate of titles so interchangeable I awarded them all collectively fourth place. Their common theme will be clear to the astute reader: Animal House, Month Python and the Holy Grail, Airplane!, Weekend at Bernie's, This Is Spinal Tap, Caddyshack, et al.

"The list of movies the women came up with couldn't be more different. ... The women said Little Big Man, The Wind and the Lion, Fisher King, Singin' in the Rain, Gone With the Wind, The Age of Innocence, and The Wizard of Oz, to name a few. ...

"When I shared my poll results with one of the guys whose film preferences I'd canvassed, I couldn't help but mention that it appeared as if men had a perturbing taste for extreme violence and boorish inanity. He wrote back, 'Did I mention that Dr. Strangelove is near the top of my list? And that's kind of cool, because it encompasses both idiocy AND Armageddon. Where's the popcorn?'

"He also said, 'Here's what I notice about the results: Men prefer funny. Women do not prefer funny. In fact, for women, the absence of funny is striking.' Hmm, I thought as I read this, he's got a point."

(It is mere coincidence that the guy quoted -- i.e., the insightful individual responsible for noting that women do not prefer funny -- was yours truly.)

PROOF #5. Margaret Cho. She is so unfunny, she must be counted at least twice.

And this brings us to PARAGRAPH 3. (I never said that men were good at math.) WHY DON'T WOMEN APPRECIATE HUMOR?

One theory I've heard: Women are wired for childbirth and there is nothing funny about childbirth. While I disagree with the conclusion (c'mon now: who amongst us hasn't laughed at a live Internet birthCam at least once?), the theory bears consideration.

Of course, we all know many women who have never had children who also aren't funny, which would suggest that humorlessness is really woven deep into the womanly DNA, passed on from generation to generation. Perhaps its original source was Eve who, a bit pissed off about the whole Adam/apple/snake thing, decided that she'd replace the female funny bone with a perpetual case of PMS.

Another theory for female humorlessness that I've heard is this: Women are born with a sense of humor, but that male-dominated society beats it out of them one woman at a time. This theory cannot possibly be accurate, however, because even when women grow up in FEMALE-dominated societies, such as some African tribes or certain parts of lower Manhattan, they still lack the capacity to be funny.

Finally, I need to point out that, just like two brown-eyed people can occasionally give birth to a blue-eyed child ... or just like two kangaroos can occasionally give birth to a flying hippopotamus-thing ... it is also true that there is that rare woman who defies logic and genetics by displaying a sense for funny.

And if you happen to find that one woman in a million who lists among her favorite movies, say, Porky's 3, I have one bit of advice for you: ask her whether she always looks that way or did she just come out of detox. Women with senses of humor love it when you goof on how they look.

And after you follow the advice in the immediately preceding paragraph, I also suggest that you run like hell.

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The Beginning of EVERY Penthouse Forum Letter Ever Published

Dear Penthouse Forum:

I never thought that these letters were real, but -- after what happened to me -- I now know that every single word in them is absolutely true.

I attend a larger than average midwestern university. The other day me and my two buddies were sitting around my dorm room, knocking back a few beers and talking about automotive repair, when there was a knock on the door.

When I answered it, I couldn't believe my eyes. There, standing on my doormat, were five tall, thin, blond Swedish stewardesses. Of course I invited them in and, much to my surprise, the only English phrases that they were able to say were "Harder, stud!" and "Can I have some more of your cheap American beer?"

I was so unprepared by this turn of events that it took me a moment to realize that the only thing they were wearing were towels ...

The Yankees are the Great Satan

In response to one of these blog posts ("Hire me, George Costanza"), Bill R., a friend of mine, sent the following to me in an email: "While you are already a giant in my private Top 10 of Yankee haters, you must know you vaulted 3 spots to #3, in my book."

It was the most flattering thing anybody has said to me in years. Bill, being a lifelong Red Sox fan, takes his Yankee-hating seriously. It wouldn't be overstating the point to say that there is only one sports-related subject that Bill and I cannot discuss civilly; one subject where we not only disagree, but disagree so vehemently that we both recognize the danger in broaching the subject.

I am a Mets fan and the subject, perhaps surprisingly, isn't Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. It is this: who hates the Yankees more: Mets fans or Red Sox fans.

At stake in such a discussion is nothing less than determining who shall rule over the Kingdom of Heaven. It is a given that all Yankee fans, being fucking skumbag Satanic ball-licking weasels, are going straight to Hell when they die. There can be no dispute about that. Nor can it be reasonably or rationally debated that the only litmus test for entry into St. Peter's domain is a lifelong animus toward pinstripes. The only question remaining is which Yankee haters in Heaven will be given the castles and the servants, and which will be working the drive-thrus at Heaven's fast food restaurants.

Let's get the obvious out of the way: in the Great Hall of Heaven, the only folks who are honored by having a seat at the oaken table of Knowledge where all the big decisions are made are Red Sox fans and Mets fans. No other Yankee haters are worthy.

Oriole fans? C'mon. Indians fans -- you're not even in the same division anymore! And you fans of any National League teams not named the New York Metropolitans, well, better get used to asking Heaven's elite if they want fries with their burgers.

(Stop your whining, Dodger fans! You haven't had to share a city with the Yanks in almost 50 years; the Los Angeles Dodgers have managed to play the 'stripes quite respectably, thank you; and if you were a Brooklyn Dodger fan who didn't become a Met fan, you desire to rot in Hell anyway.)

As for deciding the World Series of Yankee hating, here is the evidence:

Red Sox: Babe Ruth, Bucky Dent, Aaron Boone, 87 years of frustration. Still, winning the 2004 World Series and making the Yankees the victim of the single greatest playoff-series collapse in professional sports (Yanks up 3 games to none, one thin strike away from a series sweep, humorously became a 4-3 series win for the Sox in 2004) -- while honorable -- loses you "suffering points" in a big way.

Mets: Having to share a single city with retarded, stinky-breathed drunks who remind you, on a daily basis, how the Yankees have won 26 World Championships, more than any other team in sports history. Blah, blah, blah. And then the one time the Yanks and Mets met in the WS (2000), the Yanks smoked 'em. Fuck the Yankees! Fuck their fans! I'm gettting pissed off even thinking about it.

Winner: Mets fans. The rest of you can just fuck off.

And, to be perfectly honest, isn't being able to tell everybody else to fuck off and go to Hell really what Heaven is all about?

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Hire me, George Costanza!

Open Letter to the Assistant to the Traveling Director of the New York Yankees Baseball Mega-Super-Conglomerate Club for World Domination (hereinafter, "the Yankees")

Dear Mr. Costanza:

In case you hadn't noticed, this past weekend the New York Yankees (motto: "We've won the same number of World Series in this Millenium as have the Bad News Bears") lost three straight games to the Detroit Tigers in the American League Divisional Series and, in so doing, were eliminated from contention for the Little League World Series and, concurrently, lost their third straight playoff series. There was much rejoicing. Except, of course, in the Yankees front offices.

I write now to assist you and your team in breaking this unparalleled streak of mediocrity, as I know and understand that never before has a Mega-Super-Conglomerate Club for World Domination failed to achieve its goals three consecutive years running (except, of course, for the whole Idi Amin thing, which is a topic for another day).

But my value to the Yankees is not to restate the obvious, to wit, that a team filled with Hall of Famers at every conceivable baseball-related position except owner isn't guaranteed to have postseason success ("Bring me the dead, severed head of Babe Ruth! We need a chewing tobacco coach, dammit!"). No, sir. My value to the Organization is this: I can pinpoint what is wrong with your Organization and, in so doing, provide you with the opportunity to remediate it.

Here is the key:

THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BUILDING A TEAM TO WIN DURING THE REGULAR SEASON AND BUILDING A TEAM TO WIN DURING THE PLAYOFFS. A team of selfish, personal-glory-obsessed, child-like superstars may be able to win during the regular season, but unless they prostrate themselves to the Greater Good ... unless they feel that they owe their primary obligation to the TEAM ... they are not likely to win in a short playoff series.

Put another way: where are you, Scott Brosius? Chuck Knoblauch? Tino Martinez? Paul O'neil? The REAL Bernie Williams?

(Aside to Derek Jeter: You really belong in this group, too, but I know you are just one man -- or, rather, one man who has had an incredible series of really hot girlfriends. And, even with the girlfriends included, your presence is not enough to overcome the shocking lack of Tino-ness in the 2006 Yankees.)

I know that this whole "It takes selflessness to win playoffs" thing sounds like a platitude, but it really, truly is true. And I will prove it to you or, rather, I *WOULD* prove it to you had I passed 8th grade math. So, instead, I will merely throw some mathematical statistics at you and hope that some other, smarter guy comes along and proves me right.

Let's start with the basic assertion that the difference between a great baseball team and an average baseball team is shockingly small. Take the stat known as "total bases," for example, which basically measures how successful a team is at generating scoring opportunities.

In 2006, the Yankees were second in the major leagues in total bases: 2625. In comparison, the Arizona Diamondbacks finished 15th (out of 30 teams) in total bases with 2393. The difference between these two teams -- one great, one mediocre -- was 232 total bases, which breaks down to 1.43 bases per game (out of a 162 game season).

That's not runs, mind you, but BASES. In a best of five game playoff series (which is where the Yankees were eliminated each of the last two seasons), assuming that the series take the maximum number of games, that breaks down to a TOTAL of about a 7-base difference between a GREAT team and a mediocre one.

Think about that. If just one selfless player takes a walk ONCE per game instead of, say, striking out while trying to pad his stats with a double or home run, then you've just made back 5 of the 7 base difference between mediocrity and greatness.

And if another selfless player or two concentrates his efforts on bunting over a runner, or hitting behind a runner (so that the runner can get an extra base), to hitting a fly ball to move a runner at 2nd or 3rd along, then suddenly your team will be making the gap between greatness and mediocrity even less.

And that doesn't even account for the difference that a selfless player's efforts might make on defense! Making that extra effort to get to a ball in the gap, stretching a little further to make a play, concentrating on where the ball is hit so that the fielder can get an extra half-step on a ball in play.

If you have players that focused on that stuff, do you know what you would have? Another World Series ring, that's what.

I'm telling you, George, the best of 5 "Divisional Series" has changed what it takes to win in the playoffs. Look at the 2006 Tigers -- they have what it takes. Even the 2006 Mets, who were able to win without a living starting pitcher on their roster (sorry, Steve Trachsel).

Look at the 2005 White Sox. The 2004 Red Sox. The Diamondbacks, Marlins and Angels before them. And look the late-20th Century Yankees. They all had it.

One final point, George, and it is this: I recognize that before a team can win a short playoff series, it needs to actualy MAKE the playoffs and -- in that regard -- some selfish-stats-generating superstars are probably necessary (or, at the very least, useful). But how many? To answer this question, I challenge all of the geniuses out there who actually DID pass 8th grade math to come up with two statistics: (1) a SELFLESS QUOTIENT, which measures an individual player's selflessness, and (2) a TEAM SELFLESS QUOTIENT GOAL, which represents the ideal number of selfless players to have on one's 25-man roster.

See you at Disneyland.

Yours truly,
Buck Buckman

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Obviously, the Ravens rock.

This is a copy of an actual Fact Finding report from a Maryland unemployment publicly available file. The statement highlighted was given by somebody who lost his job and then filed for unemployment, in response to a standard agency inquiry concerning why he lost his job.

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CLICK HERE

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Top 10 Cartoon Girls I'd Like to Bang

It was admittedly difficult to try to come up with the definitively dumbest list ever to be published in a blog, but I'm always up for a challenge. Here then, without further ado, is the top 10 cartoon girls I'd like to bang:

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#10. TONI DAYTONA (from Luann). An obscure choice to begin this list, I know. She's the female firefighter in the comic strip, Luann. As Paris Hilton would say, "That's HOT!"

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#9. VELMA (from Scooby Doo). She wears short skirts, she solves mysteries, and she just may have a thing for Daffney. What more could you want?

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#8. MAUDE FLANDERS (from The Simpsons). Yes, I know she is dead, having been traumatically killed in a bizarre baseball stadium "T-shirt cannon" incident. But obviously I'm talking about the alive version of Maude, not the post-death version because that would be creepy. And the whole Born Again Christian thing is an added bonus.

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#7. PUFFY AMI YUMI (Japanese music stars). I have no idea which one is Puffy or Ami or Yumi or Puffy Ami or Ami Yumi. But, really now, does it matter?

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#6. PEBBLES FLINTSTONE (from The Flintstones). The college freshman version of Pebbles, of course. What do you think ... I'm some kind of perv?

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#5. DARIA MORGENDORFER (from Beavis and Butthead, and subsequently Daria on MTV). Droll, intellectual, intense ... and, best of all, Jewish.

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#4. BAT GIRL. (from Batman). The eternal choice: Cat Woman or Bat Girl? Cat Woman ... or Bat Girl? Cat Woman ... or Bat Girl? Answer: Bat Girl.

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#3. JOSIE & THE PUSSYCATS. (stars of their own eponymous cartoon). Is it greedy to list the entire band? But, in good conscience, I did not feel right choosing just one of them.

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#2. BETTY & VERONICA. (from Archie comics). Tell me that you haven't thought about it.

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#1. JESSICA RABBIT. (from Who Framed Roger Rabbit?). Duh.

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