One Million Moms – Secret Life of An American Teenager

Posted on 25. Jun, 2010 by Sean.

So if you’ve never heard of One Million Moms.com they’re this group that is trying to get “filth” off TV to protect the children.  

In this episode, they’re up in arms against a show called, The Secret Life of An American Teenager.  Now to be fair, I’ve never watched the show, but I know what it’s about, generally speaking.  It basically shows various teens and the fucked up shit they do, like bang multiple people, get knocked up, have oral sex, etc.  It might be a little risque, but you’re living in a total state of denial if you think kids today aren’t engaging in this type of activity.  It’s fucked up, sure - But pretending like it’s NOT happening isn’t going to make these problems go away. 

Shows like this aren’t glorifying sex, promiscuity, pregnancy, etc. they are giving you some insight into what’s going on and this can help parents address the issues before they happen to their kids.  So while this may be a lame ABC Family show, I still think more shows need to illustrate what’s really going on in the world so we can open a dialogue with our kids over the dangers  they face and the potential consequences (sex can equal:  baby, STDs, being labeled a filthy whore, etc.).  But of course, OMM sees things differently. 

So without further ado, I present their letter, followed by my edited letter – sent to the show’s sponsors. 

THEIR LETTER:

As a mother and a member of OneMillionMoms.com, I am greatly disappointed in your company’s decision to sponsor ABC Family Channel’s “The Secret Life of the American Teenager” program.

This show is extremely graphic in its social portrayal of sexual activities among teens and its casual approach to one night stands, abortion and homosexuality.

I also oppose the mockery of Christianity.

As a consumer, I am asking you to stop your company’s advertising support of ABC Family’s “Secret Life” program. My decision to support your company depends on it.

I look forward to hearing from you regarding my concern.

And… MY LETTER: 

As a member of OneMillionMoms.com, I am greatly appreciative of your company’s decision to sponsor ABC Family Channel’s “The Secret Life of the American Teenager” program.

This show is extremely graphic in its social portrayal of sexual activities among teens and its casual approach to one night stands, abortion and homosexuality.  While this may be shocking and disgusting to Puritanical pinheads that bury their heads in the sand and refuse to acknowledge the growing problems facing our youth in this country, I applaud you for creating a frank discussion.  The fact that you are portraying real life here and not some Christian façade of chastity and purity that doesn’t exist among most of our children – should be commended, not criticized.  By showing what really goes on, parents can discuss these difficult topics with their kids and hopefully show them the consequences of their actions.  Show them that sex is a serious, adult responsibility and that it shouldn’t be trivialized.  Show them that even though, morally it may be wrong – legally, in America – abortion is a right women have.  With the increasing number of underage and unwed pregnancies, obviously the Christian method of preaching abstinence is failing spectacularly.  Education and cold, hard reality is a far better approach than willful ignorance and purity rings. 

I also laud you for characterizing homosexuality, not as a choice, but as a genetic predisposition.  Let’s be honest – no one would choose that lifestyle, the ridicule, the abuse, the homophobic rants by the self loathing, closeted Christian right.  The leather pants (they chafe you know).  It’s genetic, it’s not a choice – get over it.    

I also support the mockery of Christianity.  Let’s face it – these hypocrites protect pedophile priests, support scumbags like Ted Haggard and Pat Robertson and firebomb abortion clinics, yet they are vehemently opposed to sex education.  They also believe the Earth is 6000 years old and would probably still try to drown and burn “witches” and other assorted “heretics” if we gave them the chance, so screw these imbeciles.      

As a consumer, I am asking you to keep your company’s advertising support of ABC Family’s “Secret Life” program. My decision to support your company depends on it.

I look forward to hearing from you regarding my support.

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MANTAGAS!!!!!!!!™ Part 4

Posted on 01. Sep, 2009 by Sean.

Submitted by Thomas Perri who asks, “too soon?”

       
Who told me my 1967 Oldsmobile Delmont 88 would float just fine in the Chappaquiddick channel?

 MANTAGAS!!!!!!!!™

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Hi, Blink-182! Damn glad to see you again…

Posted on 28. Aug, 2009 by Sean.

I went to see Blink-182 on Wed night at PNC in Holmdel and it was an amazing show.  I missed out seeing the fat slobs in Taking Back Sunday who I haven’t cared about since their first album came out and I got there too late for Weezer as well.  Weezer isn’t a band I give a shit about anymore, either.  Maladroit, started me down that road and the topper was the song “Beverly Hills” which I consider a horrific pox on music that I will never forgive them for.  But I digress… I ended up arriving right as Blink was taking the stage and I could feel myself getting giddy.  Let me say, I am not ashamed at all to admit that I LOVE Blink-182.  I love their songs, I love their goofy onstage antics, and I love that they make me feel like I’m 21 again.  They played all of their hits incredibly well and they had the crowd squealing with delight.  In fact, the only blemish to me was “Adam’s Song.”  Mark was straining to hit those high notes like he was passing a golf ball-sized kidney stone.  But even that song wasn’t terrible and all in all – It was just good to have Blink-182 back. 

When they broke up a few years ago and each member went and did their own thing, it really bummed me out.  Not only because it was the end of an era, but also because each new band they left us with was horrible – Angels and Airwaves?  + 44?  The Transplants?  Ugh, are you kidding me?  They all came prepackaged with so much hype and did not come anywhere close to measuring up to their combined efforts in Blink-182.  That, plus the fact that I had listened to Blink through some of the most fun, yet transitional periods of my life made me miss them in a deeper sense than some random band breaking up.  To me, it felt more like I had lost a friend. 

Blink has always represented pure joy to me.  The way Mark, Tom and Travis interacted with each other and their audience was so sincere and unique to bands of their stature.  Most bands have an air of superiority they carry onstage.  Blink never did.  They made you feel like you could jump up on stage and become a part of their group in a heartbeat.  Whether I saw them at the Trocadero, opening for Less Than Jake, in front of a couple hundred kids or playing in front of thousands at a huge venue like PNC or Tweeter, they welcomed you to their shows like normal, yet super lucky  dudes who were completely thankful for the opportunity they received and the success they achieved.  I loved that about them because it’s easy to get jaded in the music business and they seemed to be above all that.

Alas, it turns out they weren’t above all that.  Towards the end of their first run together, we started seeing some changes.  Tom seemed to be getting a little full of himself and wanting to evolve Blink into this more sophisticated and progressive rock machine.  To be honest, I hated Blink’s last studio album and I began drifting away from the unwavering devotion I had always had for them.  They got outside of what they were, which was a mistake.  Don’t get me wrong, I know bands want to evolve, but Blink didn’t need to evolve for the sake of evolving.  All of their prior efforts to their last album had a small, but logical progression from the previous one.  But the last album went way too far into left field.  The Cure-like atmosphere on a lot of songs just wasn’t Blink.  Side projects could have achieved that goal of creating something off the band’s beaten path and left Blink for their fans.  You can see what I mean in the videos for the album.  “Feeling This” an homage to Pink Floyd’s The Wall tried way too hard , “Down” was too preachy and “Miss You” and “Always” were stupid glammed up videos that should have been used by “serious” bands like Coldplay or The Killers.  Blink got away from what had made them great – those incredibly hilarious, pop culture-skewing videos and the fun loving, sometimes teen-angsty songs that were their staple for so long – and it really sucked. 

But even though I wasn’t a fan of the new stuff, Blink was still a band I liked just knowing were there.  It was comforting in a “musical security blanket” kind of way.  Even if I forgot about them for a while or didn’t listen to their albums for a few months, when I did re-connect with them, they would always bring me back to an amazingly fun time in my life.  Dude Ranch and Enema of the State remind me of bright summer days, driving around with the windows down, talking with my pals about girls and life and where we were gonna get drunk that weekend.  A carefree time that you miss when faced with the mundanity and daily responsibilities  of adulthood.  Blink is an emotional fountain of youth.  They make you giggle at low brow, toilet humor that you’ve grown (ahem) far too sophisticated to appreciate in your old age.  They make you nod your head to 3 chords of simplistic brilliance which always made me wonder why I couldn’t write something similar (oh, right – that whole lack of talent thing).  But the point is Blink-182 is all the fun times you had as a kid that you sometimes forget you’re capable of.  They make me want to pick up my guitar and play along to their records while drinking beers with my friends and talking about stuff that is spectacularly unimportant in the grand scheme of our overall lives. 

On Wednesday I had a smile on my face for an hour and half and just remembered all the great firsts I shared with that band:  The first time I saw and heard “Dammit” on 120 Minutes and was blown away by the lyrics and the sing-along-ability of that song.  Or the first time I saw the outrageous videos for “What’s My Age Again” and “All the Small Things” and couldn’t believe how brilliant and ballsy they were.  Or how I thought “Carousel” was the best song ever for, like, 3 minutes until I heard “M&Ms.”  Or how I always wished I would one day get a girlfriend like “Josie” (which I did).   Blink are the soundtrack to an endless amount of my life’s snapshots, forever stashed away in my memory.  And I’m so thankful for that. 

The wonderful thing about Blink is their blissful minimalism.  They don’t try to be anything they’re not.  They’re a bunch of SoCal kids who loved to skateboard, go to the beach and play punk rock.  And a few years ago they made it big and brought joy to millions of kids the world over.  Now, a few slight detours aside, they’ve returned to recapture all their former glory.  It’s a shame it took a near tragic plane crash to provide the impetus for the 3 former friends to reunite, but I’m glad they did.  The world seems like a better place with them back together.

Welcome back, Blink-182.  I missed you homos. 

(Photo by Ethan Miller/Getty Images)

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Dear God…It’s me, Sean

Posted on 11. Aug, 2009 by Sean.

Dear God,

Hi, it’s me, Sean.  I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I thought it might be time we re-connected.  I know I’m not as devout in my religious beliefs as I was in my youth so I may not be in the best position to complain, but I’m not happy right now, God.  You’ve really let some stuff get out of hand here on Earth.  I guess getting older and more cynical has led me to doubt your existence.  Not going to church anymore, and disagreeing with your fanatical followers here on Earth, well – It’s caused me lose faith and for that - I am sorry.  I wish I hadn’t strayed from your flock, and I’m willing to come back, but first we need to discuss some things. 

Let me clarify, God – it’s not just me – millions of people need you right now, because of the events that took place this past weekend.  No, not that – Yeah, sure a lot of Asian people died because of those storms, but I’m not gonna say that you shouldn’t make it rain once in a while.  I mean, you know more about precipitation and flooding than me.  And let’s face it, there are a shitload of Asians out there, so losing a few hundred of them might not get noticed by too many people.  But I digress…

No, what I want to talk to you about is the Yankees sweeping the Red Sox in 4 games this weekend.  I mean, come on.  2004 proved you were a Sox fan, so what gives?   I don’t question your divine plan, Lord, but I would like to make a suggestion:  Now, while the team and their fans are riding a dizzying high of good vibes and boorish bravado - Please, please, please kill the NY Yankees. 

Look Lord, you know I hate the Yankees and their fans more than anything else in this world.  I hate them to my core, in all of my being, right down to my soul.  I hate them more than Palestinians hate Jews, more than Louis Farrakhan hates white people, more than Glenn Beck or Sean Hannity hate reason, logic and common sense.  I mean, don’t you remember how I was one of the only people outside of AZ that rooted against the Yankees in the World Series in 2001, a mere 2 months after 9/11?  I would have rooted for Al Qaeda before I rooted for the Yankees, even in that difficult time for our nation. 

Lord, I’m not the only person that detests these insufferable fucks and their moron fanbase.  And I know you hate them, because you’ve befallen serious tragedy on them before.  I mean, Lou Gehrig?  That was awful.  The Iron Horse, stricken down by ALS and dead within two years of retiring?  Yikes.  Thurman Munson?  Crashing that plane but still saving his passengers before he got toasted?  Very sad.  Those guys didn’t really deserve to die, but you offed them anyway. 

I thought you were gonna do some damage to this generation of Yankees, too and I don’t mean to be a dick, but you’re kind of a tease, God.  Don’t get me wrong, that Christmas morning in 1989 – when I awoke to find out Billy Martin had drunkenly wrapped himself and his car around a telephone pole – that was awesome.  In fact it was one of the best death presents I got until Biggie Smalls was killed.  When Cory Lidle crashed his plane into that building, that got me kind of pumped.   Until I heard he was solo and didn’t have any of his teammates with him.  To be honest, Corey Lidle wasn’t anyone I cared about either way.  I mean, if you had gotten Posada or Matsui, or even some low level, perpetually irritating scrub, like Luis Sojo riding shotgun on that plane, I would have been pretty ecstatic.  But Lidle just didn’t cut the mustard.  So I ask you, nay, beg you, Lord - Isn’t it time that you just kill the NY Yankees?  Oh, God – Please, please, please kill the NY Yankees. 

Let’s face it – they’re easily the most obnoxious team of assholes in any sport.  They are the perfect example of hubris.  Remember the time those rich snobs claimed the monstrous cruise ship out of Liverpool was unsinkable?  How they made it the most luxurious and obnoxiously opulent ship in history?  They scoffed at you, Lord.  Well you had the last laugh when you sank that bad boy on its maiden voyage!  I mean, that’s some cold blooded, poetic shit right there.  And that sent quite the message, didn’t it?  Of course it did.   

Well the Yankees are that very same symbol of detestable arrogance, greed and wealth and you can send a new message to your followers here on Earth today.  I mean, they have the audacity to call their home a “cathedral?”  What’s that all about?  And they routinely flaunt their excess to all visitors of their ballpark.  Worst of all – They routinely break your commandments.  I went ahead and gave some examples for you in case you were busy elsewhere – 

1. Douche Yankee fans worship Derek Jeter as a God, they also have monuments to past players in the outfield of their ballpark.
   Commandment Breaker: Worshipping false idols. 
   
2. They inspire all non Yankee fans to blaspheme your name.  After every victory a resounding, “Goddamn Yankees!” can be heard throughtout this great nation of ours
   Commandment Breaker: Making wrongful use of the name of your God.
   
3. They play baseball games on Sundays.
   Commandment Breaker – Not honoring the Sabbath.
   
4. I’m sure a few Yankees have said stuff in anger at their parents at some point in their lives.
   Commandment Breaker: Dishonoring thy mother and father.
   
5. Jim Leyritz, who was a World series hero with the Yankees recently killed a woman because he was driving drunk.
   Commandment Breaker: Thou shall not commit murder.
   
6. Roger Clemens cheated on his wife numerous times with a country singer, Jason Giambi cheated on his wife (I knew a girl he hooked up with that wasn’t Mrs. Giambi – honest!), A-Rod cheated on his wife with a number of mannish looking strippers.
   Commandment Breaker: Thou shall not commit adultery.
   
7. As a team through 8/10/2009 the Yankees had 72 stolen bases collectively.
   Commandment Breaker: Thou shall not steal.
   
8. The Yankees always make lame accusations against opponents for everything from stealing signs to throwing at their hitters.
   Commandment Breaker: Thou shall not bear false witness against your neighbors.
   
9. In 1972, pitchers Fritz Peterson and Mike Kekich swapped wives and families (this really happened). 
   Commandment Breaker: Thou shall not covet they neighbor’s wife.
   
10. The Yankees always cry about how hard they have it and how much easier things are for other teams, never mind that they play in the biggest city, have the most money, spend the most money, have the most merchandising revenue, etc. etc.  Hank Steinbrenner even whined about how the Yankees would have made the playoffs if they played in the NL West in 2008. 
    Commandment Breaker: Thou shall not covet anything that belongs to your neighbor (including the geographical location of their baseball team). 

So you see, God?  The Yankees are a pox on this planet.  Get rid of them now, and bring joy to us non douchebags the world over.  We deserve better than a team and a fanbase like this.  The fans are unbelievably annoying, they sound like guido meatheads with their cro magnon-like chants of, “Deh-Rick-Jeet-UH!” echoing throughout bars, restaurants and baseball games in this great nation.  Enough is enough, God.  Wouldn’t this send the ultimate message of who’s in charge?  Get people back into the old school ways of fearing you a bit?     

While a team plane crash would be the ideal way to go, since you could get them all in one fell swoop, I’d also take a series of random catastrophes that would befall each player individually.  If you need some creative suggestions, here are a few I came up with to get you started:

Robinson Cano – Head crushed by blue ice falling from a plane. 

Hideki Matsui – Trampled in downtown Tokyo this offseason by a mob of people who think they’ve spotted Ichiro Suzuki.  

Brian Bruney – Awkwardly falls face first into his feeding trough, drowning in beef gravy.  

Melky Cabrera – Flaming debris from a decommissioned satellite lands on his face while he’s picking beans on a Domican farm this offseason.  

Nick Swisher – Dinner fork in the ol’ electrical outlet.  

Mark Teixeira – Due to his face, mistaken for a horse and turned into Elmer’s glue and hot dogs.  

Alex Rodriguez – After deciding no woman (or man) can truly satisfy him due to his blinding awesomeness, breaks his neck attempting to suck his own dick.  

AJ Burnett – Rocketing tire to the face from a spinning, flaming car wreck at a NASCAR rally.  

Mariano Rivera – Mangled under a wheat thresher in Iowa after visiting a cancer stricken farm boy as part of the Make-A-Wish Foundation.  

Johnny Damon – While visiting some soldiers at a nearby fort, he asks to practice throwing a live hand grenade.  However, his hilarious lack of arm strength results in its detonation less than 2 feet away. 

Andy Pettite – Drunk on Shiner Bocks, one of his dumb, shit kicking, Texan neighbors mistakes his big butt chin as a disrespectful “mooning” and shoots him in the face with a 12 gauge.  

Joba Chamberlain – Accidentally overdoses on his mom’s “Crystal Meth/Crack/Chocolate Fudge Cake”.     

Jorge Posada – Gets his humongous nose caught in one of those rolling, rock-pulverizing machines from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.  You know, the one where that giant gets his sash caught in it and emerges as a red stain. 

Derek Jeter – Gang raped by a pack of silverback gorillas that escape the Bronx Zoo.  

CC Sabathia – Chokes during his hourly feeding when the fire hose that stadium staffers use to shoot Ranch Dressing into his fat mouth, gets stuck in the ‘on’ position.  

There you go, God.  Thanks for listening.  I hope I’ve presented a clear cut case for why you should kill the Yankees.  They’re fucking assholes and it’d be nice to make the fans all cry their stupid eyes out while I laugh and laugh at their misery.  And if you do this I’ll do your bidding, whatever it may be.  Even if it means becoming a dopey Mormon and walking around door to door in those lame outfits.  It’s a small price to pay for the smiting of my most hated foes. 

Keep on truckin, big guy.

Your pal,

Sean

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MANTAGAS!!!!!!!!™ Part 2

Posted on 24. Jul, 2009 by Sean.

The further adventures of MANTAGAS!!!!!!!! 

What infidel told our women not to wear their burqas because it was ‘Hawaiian Shirt Friday’?!?!

MANTAGAS!!!!!!!!™

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Top 10 Henchmen

Posted on 22. Jul, 2009 by Sean.

Henchmen handle all of that day to day evil doing that I just can’t be bothered with – from torturing my arch nemesis to killing low level subservients who shirk their tasks.

So who would be in my “Top 10 Henchmen of All Time” list?  Well I gleaned them from some of my favorite movies.  Let’s begin:

10.  Virgil (James Gandolfini) – True Romance

“Condescend me, man.  I’ll fucking kill you, man.”  It’s a shame he beat the ever living shit out of Patricia Arquette and her super terrific rack.  If he had instead beaten the ever living shit out of David Arquette, he would have been my number 1.

9.  Bob – Batman

Great photographer, good transcriber, loyal, laughs at all your jokes and he’ll even give you the gun to shoot him with.

Now THAT’S a henchman!

8.  Boss Godfrey – Cool Hand Luke

“The man with no eyes.”  He was quiet, which I like (because I don’t stand for insolence).  And he was a dead eye with that rifle.  I value a man who can shoot off a rattlesnake’s head at 10 yards.

7.  Mr. Kobayashi – Usual Suspects

Cold, calm, calculating.  The man was not fazed by the impertinent suspects and their hollow threats.  Plus he was the trusted confidant of Kaiser Soze.

6.  Pik Van Cleef – Hard Target

Before he was the Mummy he was dropping kick-ass one-liners on Jean Claude Van Damme and lopping fat dudes’ ears off with scissors in this John Woo classic.

5.  Boba Fett – Empire Strikes Back

Before we saw what an annoying little shit Boba was in Attack of the Clones, he was the baddest bounty hunter in the galaxy.
That “Dad!  Taun We’s here!” line, uttered with the enunciation of a
retard gargling a mouthful of Down Syndrome, makes us cringe now,
but in Empire he owned.

4.  Mystique – X-Men

A. Even blue and covered in scales she’s still hot.  B. The fact that she can kick ass and assume the appearance ofanyone is all kindsof awesome.  I think a funny joke would be having her morph into your friend’s wife and then you invite your buddy over and he walks in and sees you boning his blushing bride.  Hilarious!

 
Mystique morphing into my
best friend's wife, Melissa. 

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How to go from Awesome to Dumbass in 10 Days

Posted on 10. Feb, 2009 by Dan.

Recently Michael Phelps has gotten himself into a little trouble. I’ve found it humorous at times how serious people are taking this.  This kid is 23; he smoked something out of a bong and drank a bunch of beers, nothing that most college students haven’t done every weekend since their parents dropped them off.

So here are some steps on how to go from most awesome night of your life to you’re a dumbass

Step One: Attend a party.

Step Two: Holy crap its 14 time gold medal winner Michael Phelps.

Step Three: Holy crap 14 time gold medal winter Michael Phelps is smoking a bong.

Step Four: Take a picture of 14 time gold medal winner Michael Phelps smoking a bong.

Step Five: Sell said picture of 14 time gold medal winner Michael Phelps smoking a bong to a tabloid.

Step Six: Count your money.

Step Seven: Look in the mirror and tell yourself that you’re not a complete piece of shit.

Step Eight: Let your buddy try and sell the bong that Michael Phelps 14 time gold medal winner smoked out of, on EBay.

Step Nine: Watch as 8 of your buddies get arrested in relation to Michael Phelps smoking out of the bong.

Step Ten: Congratulations on ruining lives, I wonder how you even got into college, you dumbass.

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Rickey Henderson Hall of Fame Speech

Posted on 28. Jan, 2009 by Sean.

Through a trusted source, The Brickbat was able to obtain a first draft, inscribed on a cocktail napkin, of Rickey Henderson’s Hall of Fame induction speech.  Enjoy!

Hello friends, family and fans of Rickey Henderson.  Rickey Henderson is pleased you are here today to bask in the glory and the splendor that is Rickey Henderson.

Rickey Henderson was born on Dec 25th, 1958.  And like Jesus – Rickey Henderson did many miraculous things in his life.  While Jesus worked his miracles in the dessert, Rickey Henderson worked them on a baseball diamond.  Sure, Jesus may have turned water into wine and healed lepers, but did he ever steal 130 bases in a season?  Nuh uh.  Rickey Henderson did.  Did Jesus ever hit 81 lead off homeruns?  Nope.  Rickey Henderson did.  Rickey Henderson was electrifying and dynamic.  And in his prime, Rickey Henderson was so fast that he could have run on water, too.

To really understand the Rickey Hendersonifficness that is Rickey Henderson, one must focus on the Rickey Hendersonivity of Rickey Henderson.  There have been many Rickeys and many Hendersons, but there has only been one Rickey Henderson.

Who can even approach the sheer, mind boggling awesomeness that encompassed Rickey Henderson?  Has anyone ever existed in the history of the universe that is greater than Rickey Henderson?  I can think of not a single person.  So I say, “Put Rickey Henderson’s face on Mount Rushmore!”  None of them cats could wreak havoc on the base paths like Rickey Henderson done did.  George Washington, with them wooden teeth, powdered wig and fancy clothes wouldn’t have intimidated opposing pitchers like Rickey Henderson did with his macho, Adonis-like physique.  Roosevelt, with his impaired vision and glasses wouldn’t have had Rickey Henderson’s keen batting eye which allowed him to walk a whopping 2190 times in his life.  Jefferson was good at scoring with the female slaves on his plantation, but no way my man was good enough to score 2295 times on a baseball diamond, which is how many runs Rickey Henderson scored in his resplendent career.  And you think Abe Lincoln could head-first slide into second base like Rickey Henderson?  Don’t make me laugh.  He was way too tall and gangly and that stove pipe hat would have increased his wind resistance.

On second thought, let us forget Mount Rushmore and instead let us laser engrave Rickey Henderson’s face and lifetime statistics on the moon.  This will serve two purposes – First, little childrens can look up at night and dream of being as great as Rickey Henderson when they grow up (they won’t, but let the childrens have their dreams anyway).  And Second – If aliens ever come to Earth with the plan to invade, one look at the unfathomable statistics accumulated by Rickey Henderson over the course of his Rickey Hendersonalicious career will intimidate them into giving up their foolish quest.  They will be like so many opposing pitchers and catchers who injudiciously thought they could shut down Rickey Henderson’s effervescent running game.

Today Rickey Henderson joins baseball’s immortals.  But I propose we create a new Hall.  A Hall of Rickey Henderson.  This shrine to all things Rickey Henderson will be Rickey Henderson-expyalidosiously Rickey Henderson.  Rickey Henderson needs his own separate shrine in order to house all of his mammoth career statistics.  The Baseball Hall of Fame just doesn’t have the capacity to be Rickey Hedersonified.  Rickey Henderson will, however, settle for a Rickey Henderson wing of the Hall, although Rickey Henderson is not happy about it.

Thank you and thank Rickey Henderson for Rickey Hendersonifying the game of baseball and Rickey Hendersonalitstically Rickey Hendersoning the world we live in.

Oh and if any major league teams need a lead off hitter who can steal 60 bases and jack out 20 home runs a year while getting on base at a .375 clip, Rickey Henderson awaits your phone call.

Peace, love and Rickey Henderson be with you always.

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Is Obama Wasting His Time Already?

Posted on 28. Jan, 2009 by Dan.

So along with the majority of the citizens I got sucked in and watched the inauguration of President Barack Obama today.  I’m going to go out on a limb and say many people were very exciting and happy to be witnessing it.  Overall it’s a very historic day and I feel bad on day one criticizing President Obama, but I think it needs to be done.

How come when I turn on the TV I see the President at all these inauguration balls?  Some people have complained at the amount of money spent, face it, it costs some dough to throw a good party.  Get over it.  My problem is why is he there, if it was me, I’d be sitting in the Oval Office wearing nothing but boxers and a robe, smoking a cigar, and reading about all the stuff we don’t know about.

There has to be a book, or a set of books, of events that have taken place, or things that exist, that the American public doesn’t know about.  You know the conspiracies. The Roswell Crash, Area 51, The Kennedy assassination, Is Dick Cheney really a robot sent back in time to destroy America, just to name a few.

Right after I was sworn in I would have shut the door on the limo and asked, all right what’s the deal, do aliens exist? Let’s see the proof.  You don’t want to be like Bill Pullman in Independence Day and getting caught off guard with that stuff.  That way when the Alien mother ship starts hovering over Washington D.C. Obama knows its time to run to that secret bunker somewhere in Montana.

How about all the secret satellites we have up in space that can track anyone at anytime that you always see in movies. If I’m the President, I am calling up someone who would know Halle Berry and Jennifer Anniston’s addresses and well, I don’t think I need to go into detail.

Now I hope you can understand my frustration with Obama, come on dude, there’s plenty of days to party, day one needs to be all about the important stuff.  The last guy took nearly 500 days of vacation, Obama you can party for 499 days and we won’t care.  Please get this important stuff out of the way. Especially with the premiere of Lost on tomorrow night, come on President let’s get your priorities in order. Lost trumps all, and who knows maybe there’s a book dedicated to the black smoke monster.

On a side note did anyone else hear that Dick Cheney had to be in a wheelchair because he hurt his back packing?

Ten bucks says moving all those Scooter Libby files was a real bitch to do by himself.

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Pete Wentz is a douche bag?

Posted on 28. Jan, 2009 by Sean.

In a recent Blender interview, Pete Wentz laments that his name has become synonymous with “douchebag.”  That has to be the funniest shit I’ve ever read.  It’s also totally true.  I mean, don’t you own a mirror?  Do you hear the insufferable bullshit that spews forth from your mouth? 
How do you think you’re NOT a total fucking douchebag?  Summer’s Eve could start selling a “Pete Wentz April Fresh” flavor, and it would probably be a top seller among the chubby female FOB (OMG!) fans.
See www.yourscenesucks.com
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Anyway Pete – I gave it some thought and pondered whether maybe you really weren’t a douchebag and these charges leveled against you were just out of petty jealousy.  But that turned out to be an exercise in futility, so instead here’s why you are, in fact, justifiably synonymous with “douchebag.”  Feel free to print this out and clip it to use as a reference tool moving forward:

1. You claim to be, yet you are completely and totally not punk rock.  You’re not even in the ballpark.  Hell, it’s not even the same sport.  Wanna know how I know that?  Well, my first clue is you’re married to Ashlee Simpson.  That line-dancing, lip syncing moron is pretty much the furthest thing from punk rock.  Second you are one of those Hot Topic poser watered down mall kid “punk rockers.”  You strive for this “individuality” but you all look like you’re wearing the uniform of the Emo Dork Brigade.  Remember – just because you can squeeze into jeans you found in the petite girls’ department, doesn’t mean you should.  Third punk rock is not about being a CEO of 50 different ridiculous companies.  You got your record label, cool whatever.  But your clothing store/bookstore, your bar, your God knows what else your shilling this week.  It’s corny as hell and not at all about the music anymore.

2. The whole “shock factor” thing.  This isn’t 40 years ago.  Calling yourself a “fag” in an interview with Out Magazine because “I know I’m going to get a reaction” is off the cob corny and not some socio-political statement.  The fact that you admit to something like that when you’re just doing it for publicity is unbelievably lame.  Real kids are legitimately having those feelings and are struggling to overcome their anxiety, discomfort, embarrassment, etc.  They risk alienation from friends, parents, peers, and you use it as a way to generate more publicity for yourself.  Real cool, dickface.

3. The “Hey Chris” kid from your song.  He used to be your best friend and he even he now knows what a phony, conniving, weasely hack you are.  Read his rant here: http://blog.synthesis.net/2006/03/03/hey-chris-you-were-our-only-super-emo-pissed-off-ex-friend/.  If Fox ever airs a “When Emo Dorks Attack Bigger Emo Dorks” TV show, we’ll see this guy in full on Pete Wentz-face-ripping mode.

4. The makeup and the fucking hair.  Come on, guy – you’re emulating fellow douchebags in Good Charlotte.  A heterosexual male should never spend more time on his hair and makeup than a chick.  Ever.  The eyeliner and the female Japanime hairstyle have never, ever been a good idea.  And what’s with the neckerchief?  Unless you plan on robbing a train or holding up a stage coach, it’s pretty much  the worst fashion trend since Kris Kross were making people Jump Jump.

5. You took pictures of your dick and leaked them all over the internet.  You’re a super douche for this one.  You then tried telling people they were stolen from your Sidekick when everyone knows full well that you probably mailed them to every news outlet and blogger in the world is pathetic.  Congratulations!  You have a dick.
You’re still a pussy.

6. You tried to kill himself in a parking lot a few years back by OD’ing on anti depressants.  Suicide is a serious thing.  If you’re gonna do it, do it the right way and not like a total pussy.  I have no doubt you watched some cheese ball afterschool special where a 14 year old girl raised in a super Christian house got knocked up and was terrified to tell her parents what happened and she decided that suicide via anti depressant overdose was her only way out.  I’m sure it totally made your eyeliner run down your face and you thought it would be such a powerful way for you to off yourself, but you were wrong.  It’s a totally gay way to go.  You should have dropped a toaster in the bath or jumped off a 10 story building.  Or put a shotgun in your mouth.  Or jumped in front of a train.  Those are all way cooler ways to go and way more rock and roll.  The way you chose was a desperate plea for attention, nothing more.
And really, is your life so bad?  Granted you look like you do, act like you do, and you gave your kid a retarded name – but the money’s pretty good, right?  The fame’s gotta be fun for an attention whore like yourself, right?  And Ashlee Simpson does have a pretty decent rack.
So cheer up, guy.  It could be worse.
You could be the fat guy from your band.

These are the infallible, indisputable and irrevocable facts.  You are a douchebag and your name shall forever be a synonym for all things douche-y.

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