Panel, thoughts? Sigh, samesies. Typically I don't like to fan the flames of professional gas bagging, but this is just too perfect. I hardly expect Stephen A. Smith to be tearing up the All-22 in search of TAKES so hot they have to be capitalized. However, trying to sound smart by referencing the oh-so-important tight end vs. linebacker matchup only to pick both a tight end and a linebacker that won't be remotely close to the field tonight is so unbelievably fitting of the state of sports media that I'm highly suspicious we're all being trolled. If there's a personality who should get a pass for misspeaking than it would be the one who never shuts the hell up, but there's nary a pass catcher on the "San Diego" Chargers' active roster that could possibly be mistaken for the one that's spent the entire year sitting on their PUP list. When going the "insert random defensive player with name recognition" route in making a primetime matchup seem like more than an entirely offensive shootout, one must make sure to reference an athlete whose last NFL team, prior to his release, is actual playing. Stephen A. Smith knows that better than anyone, so either the joke is on us or a legend in the art of decibel-reliant debate has finally screamed himself stupid after years of being extra spicy. Either way, considering his Spencer Ware mistake, we're probably pretty lucky he didn't make things super awkward by accidentally bringing up Kareem Hunt's physicality as a pass blocker. UPDATE: It gets better...
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And with that, a whole new meaning to 'Chip off the old block'. While I'm sadistically happy with the results, I have absolutely no idea how you could put yourself in a position to pulverize your own penis with a handheld t-shirt cannon. I'm really trying to give as much benefit of the doubt as I can possibly give to a person overheating in the sun while dressed like a cartoonish buffalo. Unfortunately, I can't help but think that not putting yourself at risk of sniping the entirety of your own sac with a condensed souvenir has to be day one, lesson one of the type of mindless mascot training that's solely administered to avoid a lawsuit. Malfunction or not, there's not even a bad reason to turn a bazooka that loads from the top on your unborn babies. Therefore, I find this impotently irresponsible use of the most friendly of firearm to be an even more glaring show of stupidity than looking down the barrel of a loaded gun, for at least the pain from that accident waiting to happen would come to an end quicker. Honestly, even if it's just out of pity, let's give 'Chip' all of this year's Darwin Awards. Even though he managed to survive despite being incredibly unfit to do so, the sperm unto which he pulled the trigger on a death sentence definitely did not. NYPost- Lynn Redden, superintendent of the Onalaska Independent School District, made the comment in reference to the final play of the Texans’ 20-17 loss on Sunday to the Tennessee Titans during which Watson held onto the ball before completing a pass to receiver DeAndre Hopkins as time expired, leaving no time to try a last-second, game-tying field goal. “That may have been the most inept quarterback decision I’ve seen in the NFL,” Redden wrote on a Facebook post promoting a Houston Chronicle story about the game. “When you need precision decision making you can’t count on a black quarterback.” But Redden didn’t realize that the post was public. He later deleted his comment and told the Chronicle he wishes he never shared that sentiment. Redden, who oversees 1,130 students and 175 staffers as the district’s superintendent, did not immediately return a message seeking comment from The Post early Tuesday. He had not faced any discipline in connection with the remark as of Monday afternoon but told the Chronicle he understands how people may consider it to be racist. Redden said he was referring to the statistical success of black quarterbacks in the NFL. “Over the history of the NFL, they have had limited success,” he told the newspaper. -------- Rush Limbaugh, eat your goddamn heart out... I want to say that even if I were the type of Texans' fan who was made to feel superior by tucking myself to sleep under a confederate flag blanket every night, I still would support Deshaun Watson at every twist and turn. Luckily, I'm not alone in that sentiment. Hell, even though the man who now employs him would rather him be led through the facility in a pair of handcuffs than see him take a knee during the National Anthem, his team was so desperate for a franchise quarterback that they paid the high price of trading up in the first round to select a black one, regardless of all the stereotypical flaws that a bigot might blindly assign to him. Fact is, if this school superintendent were truly basing his opinion off "historical success", as opposed to abject racism, then the mere sight of another fair-skinned failure taking a 5-step drop for Houston would have him cursing the color of his forefathers. Far be it for me to debunk the "if it's all white, it's alright" theory, so I'll let the Texans' tenures of David Carr, Matt Schaub, Ryan Fitzpatrick, Ryan Mallett, Brian Hoyer, T.J. Yates, Brandon Weeden, Brock Osweiler, and Tom Savage do just that for me. Although he's had rough go of things behind one of the most offensive lines in the league, I'm pretty sure Deshaun Watson made more good decisions in the six games he started last year than every below average caucasian that came before him combined. Dare I even say that his predecessors...wait for it...paled in comparison to what he was able to accomplish under Bill O'Brien? I doubt it's a "once you go black, you never go back" situation, but - if only because DeAndre Hopkins might retire if he's stuck being thrown to by another Tom , Dick, or Harry - even the most prejudice of Texans' fan needs to strap themselves tightly in on the Deshaun Watson train and enjoy the ride. Implying that every African American under center is mentally unqualified to for his position is quite obviously racist, and accidentally doing so on your own Facebook page as a supervisor of a damn school district is quite obviously hypocritical. However, failing to realize you support a franchise whose quarterback room has otherwise had far too much in common with an expired jar of mayonnaise since it's founding is equally as inexcusable. WiscNews- The finance manager of an Illinois car dealership has been accused of pretending to be a Lake Delton restaurant employee in phone calls with a cable company.
His aim, police say, was to change the restaurant’s cable package so he could watch a basketball game when he visited the area for the weekend. Sauk County prosecutors have charged 51-year-old Kevin M. Cayton of Arlington Heights, Illinois, with felony identity theft for financial gain and unauthorized use of an entity’s identifying information. Each charge carries a maximum six-year prison sentence. Lake Delton police began investigating in February after the business manager at Buffalo Phil’s noticed a significant increase in the restaurant’s cable bill and contacted authorities, according to the criminal complaint. The officer eventually obtained 11 phone calls that were recorded by the cable provider, Charter Spectrum, in December. In the calls, a man who identified himself as Pat Barkley asked to add the Pac-12 channel to the restaurant’s cable package. He mentioned wanting to watch an Arizona Wildcats basketball game later that week. In one of the recordings, the caller allegedly stepped away from the phone and spoke with someone else in the background, saying “Hey it’s Kevin.” In another call, police say, someone can be overheard purchasing a vehicle in the background and explaining that they work a second job at a health care facility in Illinois. Through social media, the officer learned that Cayton was a finance manager at the dealership, and the only employee named “Kevin.” The officer also contacted Lake Delton hotels, and found that Cayton had checked in at one of them in late December. Social media posts also helped establish Cayton’s visit to Lake Delton in late December, police say, and that he is an Arizona Wildcats fan. --------- Shame. Shame, shame, shame, and I direct it not at the Wildcats' fan who - while definitely a criminal - had the fidelity, foresight, and follow through to do whatever it took to watch his team play while out of town. Rather, I shake my head slowly at the sports bar for bringing felony charges against the type of psychotically devoted patron that keeps the sufficiently simple business model of booze+buffalo wings+college basketball timelessly profitable. Look, I get it. Stealing someone's identity for any reason whatsoever is a pretty big no-no, but if we can't believe that our barkeeps will judge the intent of our actions ahead of their consequences then who can we trust to appreciate our lack of rational thought in regards to sports?! It takes a certain breed of fan to find the idea of watching a game other than the one he/she is emotionally invested to be so unsettling that they do the single most aggravating thing imaginable by contacting the idiots at the cable company ad nauseam. I'd be willing to bet it's the same breed whose ass leaves an imprint when last call has them cashing out a sizable bill before stumbling from their barstool at Buffalo Phil's. Therefore, it would have been nice if the victims just tipped their cowboy hats to the type of outlaw who keeps those saloon doors-a-swingin' well into the night, as opposed to potentially putting him behind bars for monetary damages that were merely fitting of a misdemeanor. Now, if I had to offer a word of advice to Kevin Cayton I might suggest exploring avenues other than identity fraud en route to watching an out-of-market college basketball game at your nearest convenience. Still, I think we can all admit he made an otherwise praiseworthy amount of head way in making sure that all he'd have to worry about is the head on his draft beer going away once we sauntered in seconds before tip-off. If nothing else, he took the phrase "I just want to watch the damn game" to a whole new level, even if it was one that was quite obviously punishable by law.
SportsIllustrated- During Briarcliff's Section 1 baseball quarterfinal playoff game, fans spotted a small plane sporting a banner that read, "Fire coaches Schrade & Kowalczyk."
The banner referred to the team's head coach John Schrader and assistant Walter Kowalczyk. What's so bizarre about the anger is that Briarcliff has been the No. 1 seed in Class B for the past two seasons and finished the regular season at 17-3 this year. "Although there are some detractors out there, I feel we have the best kids and best parents in Section 1," Schrader texted The Journal News/lohud.com. "I would not want to coach at any other district. ... I love it here." According to The Journal News, a woman paid Fly Signs Aerial Advertising $1,250 to fly the sign over Briarcliff High School for 30 minutes. Although the identity of the women remained undisclosed, Justin Jaye, owner of the advertising agency, said such requests are common. ------- In theory, a parent couldn't possibly be more pretentious, biased, and intrusive than one that pays four figures to fly a banner bemoaning the coaching of a first place team due solely to her own son's (presumably) limited role on it. You're not going to get an argument from me that this particular mother isn't some meddlesome, made-of-money maniac. That said, I kind of appreciate the way in which she chose to go about her perfectly literal execution of helicopter parenting. As obnoxious as it to send your misguided message by way of aircraft, it's almost certainly more bearable than any other way in which she would have approached bitching Billy into the batter's box. Flying a plane that demands the firing of high school coaches might be a little too aggressive to be considered passive aggressive, but I'd imagine it's a hell of a lot easier to ignore than a constant berating from the bleachers. Trying to finance your first-born up a lineup, that is presumably merit-based, by trying to write a completely unnecessary coaching change into existence in the sky is an insufferable move. However, I can almost promise that it's one that's preferable to the auditory abuse that would result from Miss Daisy actually being enough of a proactive parent to drive her ass on over to the field.
TheComeback- C.J. Harris, a walk-on safety at Auburn, was told by Auburn officials that he couldn’t play football because he takes prescribed cannabis oil to treat his epilepsy.
Harris had been suffering seizures since his sophomore year in high school, where he was diagnosed. After finding unsuccessful treatment methods, his doctor prescribed cannabis oil and that has kept him from having a seizure for the past year and a half. Because the THC in cannabis oil would show up on a drug test and it’s against NCAA rules to have any trace of THC in your body. According to WGXA, Harris’ medication contains 0.3 percent THC. And Auburn broke the news because they knew that would make Harris ineligible to play. -------- I don't even know what to say about these stories anymore, and by that I mean both the over- legalization of a drug that even our incredibly dumb and stubborn society has deemed both harmless and helpful, as well as the NCAA's continued incompetence as an organization. I could go on and on about how mind-numbingly brainless it is to deny C.J. Harris the opportunity to showcase the type of talent required to successfully walk-on to an SEC football program because the only thing that happens to save from having life-threatening episodes is a doctor prescribed medication that offers him exactly fuck-all benefits as a football player. Unfortunately, the lack of common sense necessary to come to that conclusion is commonplace for the greedy garbage people banking billions off the backs of unpaid student athletes. It's truly unfortunate, because I think that allowing the use of marijuana as medicine - or simply a meal enhancer, for that matter - is one that's worth backing, but I've just become desensitized to the shameless stupidity of the NCAA. If there were to be change in how they much slack they provided in these situations then they would have long let it out given the backlash of the millions upon millions of well-deserved detractors they've tallied up over the years. Therefore, screaming about C.J. Harris being ruled ineligible for having only slightly more THC in his system than the average high school sophomore isn't even worth it. The NCAA's higher-ups may completely lack prowess as free-thinking people, but they are so insanely adept at being more deaf to the development of civilization that they'd contribute more if they were melted down and repurposed as soundproof walls.
While I don't think there's much of an argument to be made against the idea that even the attempt at using a blunt object to bust into a building is a crime, I can't help but think we are giving this dude far too much credit by treating him like a criminal. I honestly can't tell what was more broken, the law or his spirit, and - for that reason - he'd be my first and only cut if I were putting together a beer league breaking-and-entering team. I don't even think it's an exaggeration to say that cut couldn't even produce enough airflow to knock a ball from a tee, never mind force it's way through through literally any type of blockade, so considering him as a fugitive is kind of like considering a group of mothers jogging around the neighborhood a team of athletes. His actions fit the mold, but his effort? Well, let's just say that Ozzie Osbourne is exponentially more inclined to draw first blood with a bat in his hand. I can't imagine a scenario in which I would offer someone who faded so meagerly under the bright red light of a surveillance camera a pinch hit out of pity if I were trying to gain entry into a place I didn't belong. Therefore, it better come at the very bottom of the dispatch order if his at-bat is going to count as a crime, and - whatever you do - please don't let the Mets call it in.
What a buddy! What a pal! What Bob McNair lacks in his ability to use socially acceptable figures of speech without tongue tying himself into comparing his employees to convicts for exercising their right to protest freely he more than makes up for in the steadfastness with which he stands up for his boys! Granted, it's no coincidence that this particular "boy" is also an elderly white billionaire that believes that his status as such allows him certain supremacies. However, with Jerry Richardson choosing to throw around ungodly sums of money before relinquishing power of his most prized possession instead of actually defending himself claims of racial intolerance and sexual misconduct, it took a truly unwavering ally to publicly carry his badge of dishonor. The Texans owner clearly isn't still feeling the burn after getting raked over the coals by the players/prisoners, the media, and - more or less - the general public, but who even needs professional reputability when you've got rich friends!?! You and I might consider multiple financial settlements and the 'For Sale' sign on the Carolina Panthers as a property to be admissions of guilt, but that's only because we wouldn't have anywhere near enough money to remain innocent if we were dealing with a similar clusterfuck of allegations. Of course the guy whose wealth allows to carry on the tradition of treating women like objects and athletes like animals has a differing opinion. I don't know why we would expect anything different? Bob McNair has made it pretty damn clear that he's a bad person, but - in defending the indefensible act of offering to shave a female employee's legs - he proved he's a good friend. Doesn't that count for anything these days?!?!
Money hungry coaches? Six figure shoe deals? A marginalized "workforce" that's not allowed to profit off their status as public figures? If you upgraded this clip to HD, took the pads out of the anchorwoman's suit jacket, got Converse up on out of that graphic, edited out the sound of velcro, found someone other than Grant Hill to fill the role of able-bodied athlete, and had it mention a federal investigation then I'd be liable to think that this was filmed while I had ate breakfast this morning. If we're being honest, it's actually quite scary how much college basketball hasn't changed since the early 90's. If you went back 5 years you'd be hard pressed to find another walk of life in which a clearly flawed and an obviously exploitive business model wasn't made at least a little more liberal in the name of common fucking sense. Yet, not only has the NCAA remained remarkable consistent in their standard operating procedure of indentured servitude for well over two decades, but they have actually doubled down on it by bringing abroad the FBI to more strictly enforce it. They would have been considered relatively regressive if all they were doing was getting lapped in leniency by every other organization in the country, but they are actually attempting to swim upstream into the raging rapids of rationality. Their stubbornness might actually be impressive if it weren't so goddamn self-serving. I'm probably closer to being able to buy a college basketball player on Amazon and having him delivered to my doorstep in 12 hours than I am to seeing the day in which that college basketball player can legally license his likeness while it sells sneakers by the shitload. We've acknowledged the existence of approximately 15 new genders and granted equal rights to absolutely everyone since this piece aired. Well, everyone but the student athletes who still don't have the right to take advantage of a capitalist society despite working double duty under an umbrella that just keeps on collecting money due to their efforts. Let's take it back to last year real quick. When a drive-thru doze off resulted in a pitcher's DUI and a pitcher's DUI resulted in this odd press conference in which the Kansas City's GM, Dayton Moore, chose to irrelevantly denounce pornography and allllll the domestic abuse that it's baselessly responsible for... In the moment, you may have thought it to be a deflection mechanism that was just preposterous enough to shift the focus from Royals' starting pitcher Danny Duffy, who got a hankering for a Happy Meal after taking down a 12 pack of Heineken. Well, if that's all it was, as opposed to a true and genuine stance against taking temporary pleasure in watching strangers have sex, then I'll be damned if they haven't stuck to that strategy more tightly than the pages of a repurposed Victoria's Secret catalogue...
You see, the picture above is not of an organization being taught the dangers of drugs and alcohol after one of their own ignored the existence of Uber and put the lives of innocent people in jeopardy by driving when he was too drunk to keep his eyes open. Nope. This might be tough to tell given the sternness of the looks across their faces, but it's actually a group of grown ass men in their early 20's to late 30's being told that the substance that's most likely to put a strain on their relationships is the semen they've been self-inducing since middle school. Professional athletes, who may have wives and girlfriends whose access pales in comparison to that of temptation, being scolded for using a readily available muse for their masturbation. Never mind that those same guys could walk into a bar and seduce a sultry stranger using that very same internet to Google themselves. Traveling all throughout the country as well-off and in-shape borderline celebrities to play 162 games a season (plus playoffs) isn't the real killer of love and monogamy, living vicariously through the well-endowed and uninhibited while clearing both their pipes and their head is! Oh well, at least one open-minded team has their priorities straight and is fighting the good fight against "the new drug" that is carnal instincts and sexual desires. It's not like the old drugs are still altering minds to the point in which one might find the risk of basic human safety to the reward of freshly fried chicken nuggets to be a worthy one.
My only real takeaway here is that, depending on your mood, it has to be either hilarious or insanely annoying to be a cop on a college campus. Between petty protests, general debauchery, and the type of stupidity that - ironically enough - is only common to those attending institutes of higher education, the amount of time that goes wasted in tending to calls that our more regrettable than that of the booty variety has to be through the roof in comparison to those actually protecting the safety of society. The chances that a blonde bro in a 'James' jersey was committing chemical warfare on a classroom by recreating LeBron's customary pregame routine are slimmer than the jeans he was probably wearing when he decided to become a viral story in the most "white male on college campus" way of all time, but you still can't take the chance. Nope, instead you have to pretend to take yourself seriously while giving out a laughable description of the suspect, tweeting out pictures from NBA.com, evacuating buildings, and clarifying that the attention seeker was, indeed, just a rogue douchebag. I would imagine that to be very frustrating to those without a sense of humor, and if I learned anything during my college years it's that the same guys that give out noise violations with a stern face take themselves far too seriously.
BREAKING NEWS: Tony Dungy is officially OUT on Josh Rosen. Any and all General Managers looking for the approval of a God-fearing former football coach, please update your draft boards accordingly. Also, may I suggest you start searching any and all cross bearing prayer houses for prospects at the most highly valued of position. Kidding aside, my first instinct was to mock an NFL "analyst" for diminishing one of the best, most unexpected performances we have ever seen from any quarterback in the Super Bowl - never mind one that was a little over a month removed from backup duty - by attributing half the credit to an unseen supreme being. No matter how spiritual Nick Foles and Carson Wentz happen to be, I find the idea of Jesus H. Christ sending angels to the endzone to preside over the most ruthless and barbaric of competition to be absolutely preposterous. I don't care how many times thanks is given to God through an NFL-licensed microphone, you will never convince me that prayer has ever put a single point on the board. For that reason, I find it difficult to take Tony Dungy seriously when he abuses the platform made possible by the blood, sweat, and tears of superhuman bodies other than that of Christ to preach about the superiority of his own beliefs by directly associating them with success in sports. Fortunately for him, I totally understand why he does. I mean, if I fell ass backwards into Peyton Manning prior to stumbling upon a Super Bowl win that propelled me into an undeserved role evaluating football players when my main criteria for doing so is their religion then I too might believe that God keeps a close eye on the gridiron. I'm no good Christian boy, but there being an almighty figure pulling the strings on the trajectory of Tony Dungy's broadcasting career is just about the only reason I can think of for it still being on the up and up. We are talking about a guy who was given the floor during NBC's most important sporting event of the year despite having no real insight other than anti-Patriots bias and pro-Catholicism bias. That better be proof that the Lord works in mysterious ways, because the only alternative is that it's proof of...::audible gasp...:: prejudice in sports media. UPDATE: We are now "reporting" the second-hand "coaching" of spiritual beings in the sky. Ha, and they say the integrity of sports journalism has been compromised!
The Miami Marlins Publicized The Firing Of Their Long Time Mascot With One Confusing News Leak2/6/2018
I can't help but feel like the oh-so-rare-occurence of canning your longtime mascot for logic unknown (but probably frugal in nature) during the offseason is enough of a reason not to give your marine life costume a human name. Seriously, if you let yourself start skimming during the reading of that tweet you might think that Derek Jeter's shameless nuking of his new organization extended to the fan friendly face the Marlins use to silently entertain all 63 season ticket holders, as opposed to the person sweating bullets behind it. Would 'Splashy' have caused too much of splash? Would Huckleberry have sued over the appropriation of 'Finn'? Whatever the case may be, Billy is undeniably a crappy name for a cartoonish fish that - combined with the internet's short attention span - makes for some easy miscommunication. Luckily, there is one benefit to this relatively confusing - and wildly unnecessary - news break, and that is the hilariously symbolic visual of a six foot marlin with an unrelenting gill-to-gill grin heading to his locker, packing up his belongings, and dispiritingly dragging his feet out of the bleakest of buildings after 14 years on a job. It's far less funny when you think of him as the adult male that's now looking for a purpose after being one of the handful of fans that hadn't given up on the Miami Marlins over the years. The type of person that showed up - day in and day out - for well over a decade to bring joy to 30,000 empty seats is probably ever-so-slightly more depressed than the happy-go-lucky, spear-nosed fish he portrayed. Therefore, instead of thinking of this as Derek Jeter being a cheap ass and making an example of even the most anonymously loyal member of the organization, I'll be blissfully ignorant and view it as a long-suffering human-marlin hybrid being given a new lease on life by an owner that realized his forced happiness was going to waste within South Florida's most inherently miserable franchise.
weird (adj.): 1) of strange or extraordinary character. 2) firmly kissing your child on the mouth for so long that it make Bugs Bunny feel uncomfortable. To be honest, I don't particular care how Tom Brady shows affection towards his children. To each their own, as far as I am concerned. That being said, choosing to do so by locking lips with his eleven year old for a longer period of time than his first crush either will or already has is weird. It's not right or wrong. It's not good parenting or bad parenting. It's not particularly heart warming or heart wrenching. It's just...weird, and if you think otherwise then I have some bad news for you, you might even be more weird. Let's, for one second, think about Tom Brady as someone other than a 5-time Super Bowl champion who just so happened to release a reality show-esque look into home life on the cusp of trying to capture ring number six. Imagine he was your run-of-the-mill neighbor, and you showed up to a block party, and as you were mingling he interrupted a game of two-hand touch to plant a big old wet one on his boy that lasted longer than your first sip of beer. If you're honestly telling me you wouldn't stop in your tracks and slowly look around to gauge if others were similarly taken aback before chugging the rest of that beer due to social discomfort? Well, congrats on being a casual fan of interfamilial tonsil hockey. That shit is weird, and failing to admit as much doesn't make you a better or more understanding person. All it really makes you a damned liar who is scared of questioning the ways of a superior athlete that would say "dude, what the hell was that?" if you saw your friend and his/her kid look as though they were auditioning for final act of Romeo and Juliet. And for those that don't think it's right to talk about this, here's a friendly reminder that this video wasn't shot through a window by someone who was lurking in the bushes of the Brady household. I'm sure Tommy boy had final cut on his one-on-one matchup versus time before displaying it to the outside world, and what he chose to release was a strong dose of weird that makes me even more likely to show love to my future son by giving an affectionate jab in the bicep and a "go get 'em, slugger". I'm just calling it like he wanted me to see it, and I'm calling it weird with a capital W. KTVU- Someone took off with a 7-foot unicycle from the woman behind the legendary “Red Panda Acrobat” at San Francisco International Airport, and now her agent is offering a $2,000 reward, no questions asked. And since its disappearance on Jan, 24, Rong Niu, the solo San Francisco unicyclist who juggles and balances plates on her head at NBA basketball games and universities across the country, has not been the same. “She’s heartbroken,” her agent, Pat Figley of San Francisco-based Farallon Entertainment, told KTVU on Wednesday. ”It’s like her baby was kidnapped. She’s had that unicycle for 30 years.” As Figley tells the story, Niu had landed at SFO from Denver and was waiting for her bag – filled with her 7-foot unicycle – to come off the conveyor belt. She saw it from a distance. But as she was about 10 to 15 feet away, someone “must have grabbed it,” Figley said. He said it's possible someone even took it by mistake, and if so, he's hoping they return it, no questions asked. ----- Hm, feels like Red Panda's baby was kidnapped, eh? I can see how she might consider the insanely unorthodox mode of transportation by which she has become the most preeminent provider of halftime heroics to be like a child to her, but you know where a baby has never been stolen from? Baggage claim. I agree that her unicycle should be her most prized possession, but you know what you shouldn't do with your most prized possession? Trust its well-being with an organizational entity that hasn't found a trustworthy way to tell the difference between Listerine and biological warfare. Perhaps I'm drastically overestimating the earnings of a person that goes from city-to-city shocking and awing audiences by kicking cereal bowls onto her head, but if I were her coach my first tip would be to never fly coach. My sympathies go out to her for losing that which she held so dear for the last 30 years, but it's a goddamn miracle it took this long for disaster to strike. Both her one-wheeled bike and those bowls should have been priority baggage, and knowing their whereabouts at all times should've been a concern so primary that it never be left to hands that were secondary. And I don't condone holding people ransom, but a paltry $2,000 dollar offer for the returning of an oddly famous woman's livelihood? If I were currently in possession of that unicycle I would be sending grainy videos of myself in a ski mask holding that damn thing outside a nondescript scrap metal yard out of principle alone. How dare she disrespect the intelligence of an airport thief! It probably costs $2,000 without factoring in the interest of three decades of sentimental value. Better up the damn ante Red Panda, because - while I would hate for it to happen - Markelle Fultz is proof positive that you can lose it overnight if you're not careful.
Because what better to way to show you are serious about continuing to promote racial equality than by abusing that objectively good cause in a shamelessly see-through attempt to deflect from your own rampant neglect of the most disgustingly criminal form of gender inequality?!? Honestly, if the slogan "We Talk, We Listen" were just a litttttttle less painfully ironic given the circumstances, I'm sure the only thing people would be talking about is how open Michigan State's ear is to those that go under-protected. Granted, even thinking it's okay to try to change the subject is disturbing in its own right, but surely it was just the semantics - and not the time, place, and overwhelming lack of compassion given and responsibility taken - that kept this fashion statement from successfully sheltering the Spartans from the long overdue backlash from multiple covered-up sexual assaults. Some might say it's a strange time to overanalyze words that not-so-inconspicuously imply a prioritization of support to a marginalized group other than young, defenseless women, and to that I say #MeToo. In all seriousness, what happened to the profession of public relations? Like, shouldn't all these organizations whose every move is being dissected with a fine tooth comb have at least one person on staff whose expertise is in making sure they don't appear as though they are taking sarcastic jabs at their own heinous press clippings? Hiring someone to give those entering the public eye a thee old parental once-over seems like a no-brainer in these types of situations, but it feels like every other day there's a brand or business entity that's apparently left that role unfilled. Both Michigan State's President and Athletic Director were forced into resignation for not listening, but the most visible members of the school have that empty obligation screen printed across their chests? Higher education has truly never done a more adequate job of smoking up to its name. While I advocate for all forms of equality, I haven't exactly championed the movement. I do, however, feel pretty confident in saying that the people who have would agree that you shouldn't openly condemn one type of inequality when it appears at though your campus was a goddamn hotbed for another. The failure to see the hypocrisy in doing so is liable to have you playing dumber than Tom Izzo than in an interrogation...
Go ahead, laugh at Marlon Humphrey. He undoubtedly deserves to be the butt of more than a few jokes. After all, he's a professional football player that got locked up for stealing a $15 phone charger - that was as useful to him as the power cord for a VCR - from a person who had his personal information saved in the app he used to hail him in the first place. As long as you weren't the star-crossed chauffeur who received a notification that some dude named Marlon was waiting four minutes up the road on the right hand side, thinking about this entire scenario playing out is pretty goddamn hilarious. However, just know that while you clown him, you've likely walked a drunk mile in his stumbling, bumbling shoes before. Hopefully you haven't blown your chance at a female-dominated 4-some by threatening assault on an Uber driver in the process of stealing property that you could have inconspicuously plucked from literally any outlet in the frat house you just left, but you probably have "borrowed" someone else's phone charger at some point. Whether it be accidental or intentional, from friend or foe, as provisional or permanent, phone chargers just have a weird way of changing hands when alcohol is involved. Now, usually those hands don't belong to two strangers that are desperately playing tug-of-war with them through an open car door, so I guess I'm far more sympathetic to his predicament than his impromptu and inebriated non-solution. Still, those fingers might get a little sticky if you're getting ready for a night on the town and the electronic life-blood in that bar is slowly trickling down. As sad as it may be, maintaining your spot on the grid is like the modern day survival of the fittest. P.S. I'd certainly hope it was a misunderstanding. Jacking a charger you understand that you can't use is just mean spirited...
LBS- A youth basketball team in Cincinnati will no longer be allowed to take part in its recreational league after players wore customized jerseys featuring racist and inappropriate phrases on them.
Tony Rue, a parent who sometimes coaches the West Clermont team in the Cincinnati Premier Youth Basketball League, noticed last month that kids from the Kings Mills team had inappropriate phrases printed on their jerseys. Rue’s wife pointed out on Sunday that the Kings team was calling itself the “Wet Dream Team,” and the jersey name plates had racist phrases like “Coon” and “Knee Grow.” “This isn’t a typo, this isn’t a mistake, these are ideas that were thought of, discussed, agreed upon by adults and kids alike, printed on uniforms…and no one thought this was a bad idea or inappropriate?” Rue wrote on Facebook, according to Chris Mayhew of the Cincinnati Enquirer. After its fourth week in the league, the Kings team was finally kicked out when a West Clermont representative stepped in to speak to referees during the second quarter of Sunday’s game. The game was called and the players were sent home. Dawn Gould, a spokesperson for the Kings Local School District, said Monday that the team was not associated with the school district but could not say whether any students would be disciplined. “Today we became aware of inappropriate conduct from a team of students participating in a recreational basketball league that is not affiliated with the Kings Local School District,” Gould said in a statement. “This team has been restricted from any further use of district facilities. Kings Local Schools strongly condemns any type of hateful and racist commentary. This behavior is in no way welcome or tolerated in our schools and community.” ------- Well, if there's a recreational basketball league in which to literally label yourself a disgustingly prejudice point guard then apparently it's the CPYBL. I wouldn't recommend slapping a slur across your back while playing any sport, but - if you're a kid that's absolutely insistent upon identifying yourself as one of Hitler's most athletic youths - then this small town in Cincinnati is the place to do it. Like, seriously...it took four whole weeks to come to the conclusion that the starting small forward for The Wet Dream Team wasn't the product of an amicable divorce between two loving parents whose last names were 'Knee' and 'Grow'? These little inbred bastards were damn near jockeying for playoff positioning by the time one person finally put their fucking foot down and said "alright, enough is enough, we can no longer have this 'Coon' character running up and down the floor of a middle school gym!". A story about a group of white trash teenagers klanning together - presumably after their bigoted parents oKKK'd it - to turn thee most public of place into a platform for intolerance is somehow a bigger indictment of the league that took a full month to condemn abject racism. I mean, kicking them out on their ass isn't even a punishment. They already got the attention they were desperately seeking. Probably lasted 3.5 more weeks than they thought they would. Should have just let finish out the season and hoped no one went to the press, because the time for 'Cincinnati's Caucasian Basketball Club' to be proactive was when an entire team showed up to their first game wearing all white hoodies and the darkest fan in the stands arrived late from their spray tan.
Welp, that clears that up. One (unofficial) exoneration down, and it's next man up on the NFL Network's roster of former athletes in heat. Still a long way to go to prove that their wasn't a company-wide epidemic of unprompted dick exposure, but at we've taken a step in the right direction by coming to the conclusion that the gifting of a sex toy to a female co-worker in a professional setting actually has not one single thing to do with sex. In fact, if you think it's sexual harassment to give a woman that you are contractually obligated to interact with daily a battery powered pleasure stick despite your relationship being entirely platonic then it's probably you that is the pervert. If you can't see that on your own, then let the man who does his Christmas shopping at the Hustler store provide a little visual aide (that couldn't possibly stand to make things worse) to really...ahem...hammer home the lesson...
Now do you see how stupid it is to assume that a piece of electronic equipment whose purchase includes a interchangeable "massager" for increased clitoral stimulation is a present that's sexual in nature?
Get it? — Warren Sapp (@WarrenSapp) December 13, 2017 Got it?
Good...but just in case you forget...
When judging by the consistency of his argument, it's tough to argue that he doesn't offer a compelling point. If you completely ignore it's primary usage then the Womanizer 2Go does have some aesthetic appeal. Since there's absolutely nothing in his past that would lead us to believe that he's a deviant who is exponentially more generous with his finances when he thinks sex might on the table, can't we just give Warren Sapp the benefit of the doubt here? Who's to say that it wasn't the fancy case that drew him to it as opposed to the idea that it would be making contact with an unconquered vagina? If repetition is the key to learning then no one should remain wary of the appropriateness of passing out non-sexual sex toys in the workplace after Warren Sapp's tweet storm.
KapLifestyle- "You’re moisturized and smelling tropical, your teeth are white and your face looks like you’ve just visited a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon. The sun has set, and the moon is out. Perhaps you have a friend nearby, perhaps it’s just you by your lonesome…well, this is awkward. I’ve promised you authenticity, honesty and openness. Take this how you wish and I’ll spare you the step by step. Coconut oil is the world’s greatest lubricant. I can’t help where your mind goes with this. Once the ball leaves the bat, I can’t steer it." (Gabe Kapler, 2014)
There's a lot of people on this planet that I would love to sit down and have a beer with. I can now officially say that Gabe Kapler has been added to that list, and reporter Howard Eskin has been crossed off in permanent marker. Admittedly, it's probably pretty silly to talk about touching yourself on the internet if you have aspirations of coaching in the most repressed league in the entire sports landscape. However, if you listened to Gabe Kapler talk around the time he implied that going to the kitchen cabinet for reinforcements can bring you quicker to completion without the most shit-eating of grins on your face then I simply cannot relate to you as a person. If you think it's unforgivable for a grown ass man - whose look leads you to believe that he lathers a lot more than his penis in nature's lubricant - to have made an old but relevant inference about masturbation then we just never going to see eye-to-eye. He says "what about the poor children?", and I say "the poor children" who actually understand the half-serious storytelling of the Phillies new manager will be far better off having not resorted to the misguided use of shampoo. He tries to make it seem like jerking off is a sin, and I think he's nothing short of a jerk off for doing so. He wants the Philadelphia to hire a someone whose manhood hasn't been used for anything but procreation, and I think that's the type of counterproductive mindset that is killing baseball. He believes managers shouldn't waste their time touching themselves, and I think considering efficiency while engaging in a necessary evil is the mark of a good administrator. After all, some might not like the lesson but Gabe Kapler is unquestionably a teacher whose job it is to now...ahem...get the most out of his young players. Howard Eskin and I are just fundamentally different people that could only ever share an opinion on a more explicit use for coconut oil if he got rid of his "knock it before you try it" philosophy. So here's to hoping he hasn't reproduced. Not only because he seems like quite the wet blanket, but because he sounds like the type of person who would set bathroom time limits to keep his son's dick dry in hopes that it helps him "develop" into the next sexually inhibited GM of the Kansas City Royals. |
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