I have a bad habit of wandering around Wikipedia reading random facts about random things. I also have a bad habit of masturbating with a handful of crushed Doritos, but that’s neither here nor there. I will often go on to Wikipedia to look something up, see a link that interests me, and then five hours later I am doing painstaking research into the Kajagoogoo back catalogue. If only I could devote myself to more useful things, like exercise, getting rid of my monobrow, or kicking the masturbating-with-chips thing. Anyway, the other day I ended up on the Wikipedia article for Gandhi. To be honest, all I really know about Gandhi is that portraying him has pretty well ruined Ben Kingsley as an actor for me. Every time I watch “Sexy Beast“, I keep thinking, “Gandhi’s acting like a bit of an asshole.” Given my ignorance, the Wikipedia page was incredibly informative. Informative about some of the half-assed, crackpot views Gandhi had, that is. Let’s see how Gandhi suggested the English deal with the issue of standing up to the fascist and totalitarian Nazi regime:

“I would like you to lay down the arms you have as being useless for saving you or humanity. You will invite Herr Hitler and Signor Mussolini to take what they want of the countries you call your possessions…If these gentlemen choose to occupy your homes, you will vacate them. If they do not give you free passage out, you will allow yourselves, man, woman, and child, to be slaughtered, but you will refuse to owe allegiance to them.”

Curiously, the original plan for the D-Day invasion was actually to drop soldiers at Normandy and have them acted very passive-aggressively with the Germans. This plan was scrapped, however, when it was determined that this was the stupidest fucking thing ever thought of ever.  

Gandhi didn’t stop there, though. You would think that he would have something interesting and insightful to say about the global human tragedy that was the Holocaust.  You would be wrong:

“Hitler,” Gandhi said, “killed five million Jews. It is the greatest crime of our time. But the Jews should have offered themselves to the butcher’s knife. They should have thrown themselves into the sea from cliffs… It would have aroused the world and the people of Germany… As it is they succumbed anyway in their millions.”

Sorry…they should have thrown themselves into the sea from cliffs? Why? To make it easier for the Germans?

Himmler (1944) - [picks up telephone receiver and dials] “Hello, Mein Fuhrer? You will never guess what’s happening….Oh, you heard already?….I know! I don’t even know what to say! This is like Christmas for us!…Yeah, they are really teaching us a lesson….HAHAHAHAHA!!! I know, like lemmings. Seriously, I have to buy this Gandhi guy a gift basket or something….I guess I need a new job….Can I join the Luftwaffe?”

What can we take from all of this? I can’t be sure. There appears to be some controversy as to the extent to which Gandhi resiled from these statements. Also, it’s fucking Wikipedia. Half this shit could be made up and I am too lazy to check the sources. However, one thing is clear: Ben Kingsley is an anti-Semite. I guess. Probably not. Definitely not. Guh, I don’t know. This is confusing. Why can’t his political philosophy be summarized in a t-shirt like some people we know? Stupid Gandhi.

I completely regret my high school yearbook quote. Instead of taking the time to write something funny, witty or provocative, I procrastinated and ended up submitting something that consisted of friends’ initials, in-jokes and a bunch of references that I don’t even understand know. I shit the bed. Given that I fucked that one up, I would hate to think about how badly I would mess up my last words if I was being executed. If I had killed someone, I would hope that I would go one of two ways: eloquently remorseful or completely bad-ass. However, more realistically, I would likely say something like:

“Hey, what’s that smell? Oh, me!!!! Snap crackle popz!!! LOL!!!! Miss you ST, RS, AB, and the rest of Cell Block B! B-Boyz RuleZZZZZZ!!! See ya on the flipzide, brothas!”

If only there was a compilation of death row inmates’ last words out there on the internet…of course there’s a compilation of death row inmates’ last words out there on the internet. Guess the state. If you didn’t guess “Texas”, you are likely either an immigrant or a jealous Floridian. Either way, you will be shot if you even set foot in the Lone Star state. Yup, Texas has put together a helpful collection of the final utterances of the condemned. Here is the Food Court Lunch guide to categorizing these statements:  

(more…)

I am on Facebook. I am a virtual social butterfly. I use it to keep track of my old friends’ growing and troubling obesity, post thinly-veiled racist articles and find out which of my friends ended being transsexual (just one, it turns out!). In using Facebook, I stupidly accepted the “friends” invitations of people I knew in high school and in my childhood. I had lost touch with them and was kind of curious what had happened to them. Turns out they went completely fucking bonkers. Today’s highlight:

“If you are a parent with the greatest kids on earth then copy and repost this and lets give our kids the recognition they deserve. I LOVE MY [Stupid fucking kid’s name #1] and [Stupid fucking kid’s name #2] xoxoxoxo ….. They are the greatest!!”

I could go off on this inanity for pages, but let’s be brief: I hope both children fall into a deep well, and I hope that well is filled in with a cement made of the ground-up bones of the person who wrote this Facebook update. That is all.

I have slowly come to the realization that most of the things I write about involve me hanging out in a men’s changeroom. I should be troubled by this, but I am pretty comfortable with this fact, much like the fat man with a bath mat worth of hair on his back is comfortable walking around the gym without a towel around his waist. And although I am going to be writing about about me in a men’s changeroom, I promise you that today’s little anecdote is not going to be about my erection. My last five erection-based posts  pretty well covered that topic. The slide show was pretty helpful too, I thought.

This morning, I was in the shower cleaning myself up for work after my workout. As I stood showering, facing the wall and wondering when that sore on my dick is going to close up, I heard someone behind me enter…the shower bank. I heard him turn on the shower and let it run for a short while. He then turned the shower off. The gentlemen proceeded to bang the shit out of the shampoo dispenser and, I presume, apply shampoo. He then turned the shower on for about a minute. Then, he turned it off. Like with the shampoo, he hammered on the soap dispenser to likely dispense enough soap to clean a homeless man. After a minute or so, he turned the water on.

Who the fuck turns off the shower to apply soap or shampoo? If the water even goes lukewarm when I am showering, I am immediately seething with rage. I can’t stand the shower being interrupted like that. But to turn off the shower? It’s as cold as fuck and pretty well the most unpleasant way to go about the entire showering process, yet this guy had his fucked-up routine down like clockwork. What is he worried about? Soap rationing? He doesn’t want it to get washed away? Jesus fucking Christ. It was the most pedantic shower I have ever come across, and that includes my experience making love to an Asperger’s sufferer in one.  Did this guy come from a small town where showers consisted of buckets of water being thrown at him?

I think I am going to buy a Soloflex and stay home instead.

Hey, Globe and Mail, way to go for the easy joke on this one:

Can I also suggest “‘Precious’ has fat chance of winning Golden Globe”? How about “‘Precious’ takes in hefty box office haul”? Readers: have at it.

Do you ever have those days when you need to find the most German thing that you can? No? This has never happened to you? Not once? Not ever? You don’t know what the hell I’m talking about? First the sell-out and now these stupid questions? Why don’t I go fuck myself? And her too? Enough questions. I am sure we have all had those days. Those days are much like the days when you only have a flimsy premise for a post and need to write something to avoid the disapproving looks, angry clucking and brutal sexual assaults of your co-writers.

Anyway, on to finding the most German thing in the world. Is it this?

That is a strong start, much like one the Germans got when they blitzkrieged Poland in 1939. But I think we can do better:

Beer at Oktoberfest! Given that photo, I believe “Oktoberfest” is German for “Celebration Involving Women With Mannish Hands and Disturbingly Powerful Forearms.” It’s the only word in German that’s shorter than its English translation.

Still, we can work on this. How about this?

Girl in the middle, you need new friends. Or a new head. One or the other. Other girl — as you were.

How about this?

You have no idea what I am talking about? And no, you don’t know what that smell is? And it was all an Austrian’s fault? I am not sure I follow.

Anyway, after several valiant attempts, I have found the most German thing on Earth. Dear readers, I bring you Paul Van Dyk, trance DJ extraordinaire, at Love Parade in Berlin in 1999. Prepare to be Teutonicized!!!

My love of degenerate pornography, shitty licorice-flavoured candies, and liebensraum increased by about 3000% after watching that. I feel like taking the Sudetenland right now. Anyone else? It has always been ours! This video actually provides visual evidence that the Germans gave up irony as one of the terms of Instruments of Surrender in 1945. What’s really funny is that the predominant German dance move appears to be raising your arm. Yeah, that move’s got no baggage to it whatsoever.

Last night I was sitting around with a glass of APPLETON ESTATE rum in one hand and a glass of CAPTAIN MORGAN rum in the other. I looked out the window. Umm, there were actually seven windows. SEVEN WINDOWS. WINDOWS SEVEN. I…I don’t know where I am going with this. Welcome to all of our advertisers. Hope you like rape jokes, hastily-thrown-together missives on my workouts and stories about basketball players returning pants to Sears. Yeah, it doesn’t get much better than this. It doesn’t. We mean it. Serious. SIRIUS.

[Los Angeles Lakers locker room after a game]

Kobe Bryant - Jesus Christ, am I the only motherfucker in this motherfucking locker room that gives a shit anymore? Huh? Huh? Answer me, motherfuckers.

 Andrew Bynum - Kobe, man, you know that we…

Kobe - Shut the fuck up, you lumbering, slow-ass motherfucker. That was a god-damn rhetorical question.

Andrew - [Stares awkwardly]

Kobe - What? You looking for food or something?

Andrew - What kind of question again?

Kobe - You no-college-learning, stupid-ass motherfucker. It’s the kind of question that doesn’t need answering. WE ALL KNOW THE ANSWER.

Shannon Brown - [Whispering to Derek Fisher] That’s not really fair. Kobe didn’t go to college either.

Derek - [Whispering to Shannon] Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Don’t even look at him. Don’t say anything. No good can come of this. Your name is Shannon, man. SHANNON! YOU ARE A TARGET, TOO!!!

Kobe - Why I have to waste my time with you no-talent motherfuckers, I will never know. I try and try and try to teach you how to play, and still we end up like this.

Josh Powell - But Kobe…we just won the game by 30 points.

Kobe - ….

Josh - I’ve just been traded, haven’t I?

Kobe - …

Josh - I am going to shower…away from here.

Kobe - Any of you other motherfuckers think you know shit about basketball? Huh? You fucking queers. Get out of my sight!!!!

[The team shuffles off, except for Pau Gasol]

Kobe - [muttering to himself] God-damn, useless pieces of shit. Why don’t they listen to me? I tell them all god-damn game what to do and they still fuck up.

Pau Gasol - Kobe, senor, may I have a word with you?

Kobe - You know what I am talking about, Pau, right? I mean, you are an ugly-looking, motherfucker, but you have some idea of how to ball. Why don’t they listen to me? I am their motherfucking captain!!!

Pau - Kobe, my friend, I…I must be careful how I say this. Our languages, they are very different, and I am very afraid of you. Kobe, you are a muy bien basketball player, of this there can be no doubt. But as a leader of the Lakers of Los An-he-les, you are, how you say, corrosivo.

Kobe - Corrosive? What the fuck do you mean, corrosive?

Pau - Our teammates, Kobe, they are too afraid to do anything around you. They fear you too much to let you lead them. You must, how you say, lighten up.

Kobe - Lighten up? Man, fuck that. I ain’t gonna do shit…

[A newspaper sports section on the floor of the changeroom catches Kobe’s eye]

Kobe - Hey, what’s going on here?

Kobe - That’s Gilbert Arenas. Why are all his teammates doing that face thing around him?

Pau - That is called “smiling”, Kobe.

Kobe - Arenas? That motherfucker? Isn’t he the guy that pulled a gun on his teammate?

Pau - There are many rumours, Kobe — I do not know.

Kobe - He is making a joke, pretending to shoot them all. And they are laughing and smiling.

Pau - It appears so, si.

Kobe - That motherfucker pulled a gun on a teammate and they STILL love him.

Pau - Si.

Kobe - Because he makes jokes. Because he’s a funny guy.

Pau - Si.

Kobe - If I am going to make these motherfuckers respect me as their captain, I see what I got to do. I gotta be a funny guy. I gotta make some jokes.

Pau - …Kobe….

Kobe - What?

Pau - I do not wish to be seen as questioning your strategy, but, errr, you are not a funny man. You are a man who is, shall we say, antipatico. Horrible and cruel are the words in your language.

Kobe - FUCK YOU!!! Don’t tell me I am not funny. I am very fucking funny. And if I am not fucking funny, I will work my ass off to become fucking funny, because that is what I fucking well do.

Pau - I am not sure that would be….

Kobe - You stop talking now or I will stomp on your motherfucking ass, you god-damn anorexic Yeti. HA! Yeti! That shit’s funny. That’s a funny word. See? I’ve already started. Give me one week and I will show you funny I can be.

Pau - Kobe, I beg of you, please, do not do this.

Kobe - One week, Pau. One week is all I need.

*****

[One week later, Kobe Bryant and Paul Gasol sit alone in the LA Lakers’ changeroom.]

Kobe - God-damnit, I cannot for the life of me figure out what the fuck happened.

Pau - I begged you, Kobe. Did I not? Why did you not listen?

Kobe - Don’t talk to me, Frito Bandito! I don’t need your shit!

Pau - Frito…I am not Mexican, Kobe. I am Spanish. Your wife is Mexican. You should know this, my friend.

Kobe - Don’t bother me. I’m trying to figure out what went wrong.

Pau - Madre de dios! It is obvious, Kobe. You cannot treat your teammates in the fashion you did.

Kobe - I was being funny. I was making jokes. I was being like Gilbert. WHY DIDN’T THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS LIKE ME?

Pau - Because…is it not obvious? Take Jordan Farmar. You kept on calling Jordan “Shrek”.

Kobe - HA! Look at his fucking ears. The dude looks like Shrek.

Pau - And then you raped him in the face.

Kobe - HA! Those ears have to be good for something. They make pretty good handles, it turns out. HA!

Pau - Kobe….

Kobe - What? That’s my thing.

Pau - It is not a joke. You raped a man, Kobe.

Kobe - He ain’t no man. He is barely a second-string point guard.

Pau - This is a very good point, but still…

Kobe - Well, what about Lamar? You will admit that he couldn’t take a joke.

Pau - You called his wife ”Fredo Kardashian”.

Kobe - Well?

Pau - …Very observant, Kobe, but she is the man’s wife.

Kobe - Pffftttt. I’m not even sure she’s a woman, never mind a wife.

Pau - And then you raped her too.

Kobe - HA! Wait, nah, that’s not right at all. I raped Chyna by mistake. It’s a common error.

Pau - Still, Kobe…

Kobe - Shit, NONE of you guys know what funny is.

Pau - And poor Adam…

Kobe - What? What? Adam Fucking Morrison? That motherfucker is deadweight — he is nothing to this team.

Pau - But swapping his insulin with high fructose corn syrup, Kobe…

Kobe - HA!

Pau - Adam died, Kobe.

Kobe - AW, SNAP!

Pau - Ron Artest held his lifeless body as he died.

Kobe - HA!

Pau - You threw a beer at Ron as he mourned.

Kobe - HA!

Pau - And then you raped Adam’s body…

Kobe - HA!

Pau - At the funeral.

Kobe - I opened that casket, if you know what I’m saying. HA!

Pau - It was the worst thing I have seen in my life. A part of me died that fateful day.

Kobe - You don’t know humour, Paul. You’re Spanish. You don’t get us.

Pau - I do not get you, Kobe. YOU! There is no us. Your teammates will not even be in the same room with you. They are afraid of being mocked, raped or murdered.

Kobe - Pfffftttt. You don’t understand anything, man. If I work at this, the humour thing is going to come to me eventually. It always does. I WILL ALWAYS WIN.

[Kobe stares aggressively at Pau.]

Pau - …That is fine, senor. But do not say I did not warn you, Kobe.

[Pau quickly leaves the changeroom]

Kobe - Shit, what does that motherfucker know? He gets one fucking ring and he thinks he understands everything. I got friends. I GOT FRIENDS!!! I have people who think I’m funny….like Derek. Derek Fisher. I’ll call him.

Kobe - [On phone] Derek, my man. How are you doing?….Not well, huh?….Your daughter has taken a turn for the worst?….Huh….Well, maybe SOMEONE SHOULDN”T HAVE SWAPPED HER CHEMOTHERAPY JUICE WITH LEFTOVER CORN SYRUP!!!! HAHAHAHA!!!!!! AW, SNAP, DEREK!!!!! TELL HER TO SAY HELLO TO ADAM FOR ME!!! HAHAHAHA!!!!

…

…

Hello?

…

…

…

Kobe - Jesus, he sounds pissed. I hope he doesn’t find out that I raped her.

It’s Christmas Day. I did the family thing on Christmas Eve and had the whole morning and afternoon of Christmas Day to relax and recover from my hangover. I wasn’t expected at another event until the evening, so I had some time to kick up my feet, turn on the TV and watch some sports. I remembered there was a full slate of NBA games on. Fantastic. I turned on the first game, the Knicks and the Heat, and got settled for a few hours of pure slothdom. My excitement ended rather abruptly. This is what the players were wearing:

Look at that. Red uniforms and green uniforms. How deliciously seasonal. However, if you are red-green colourblind like me, how fucking bullshit. It was like watching a team practice. Everytime I thought I had figured out which team was which, there would be a loose ball or something and I would lose track of everything. You add in the cross-racial identification problems I have and you had me madly scanning the screen for which way David Lee and Danilo Gallinari were running so I could figure out what the hell was happening. Seriously, NBA — go fuck yourself. White is a Christmas colour too, you assholes.

Do you ever find out about something later on in life that you wished you had learned years ago? I always get angry when I try a type of food that I have never eaten before, and absolutely love it. Why didn’t anyone tell me about it earlier? I have been wasting my time eating absolute shit when I could have been eating the good stuff? For example, I didn’t try mango until I was in high school. Mango is phenomenal. It is like God shitting in your mouth. I would eat my own genitals if they were made of mango. In fact, I often dip them in mango juice, stretch and pretend. Why the hell didn’t my parents let me know about mango years ago? I blame them for this. I also blame them for the genetic curse that is my smallish hands.

Anyway, I only recently learned that there was a video from the early 1990s of Canadian boxer Trevor Berbick having an altercation with former heavyweight champion Larry Holmes. And by “altercation”, I mean Larry Holmes doing a flying double-leg drop-kick off of a car.

How did I not know about this? I have been wasting my time with internet porn and LOLCats when I could have been watching this on loop. With the exception of snuff films and Heidi Montag music videos, this is pretty well the most insane shit ever captured on tape. Fuck Mike Tyson and Muhammad Ali. Larry Holmes is now the most bad-ass heavyweight ever to walk the planet. “Oh, you think I might punch you, do you? Well, Trevor, I would, if it wasn’t MARTY JANNETTY TIME!” Sure, Berbick died from a lead pipe beating a few years later, but I am pretty sure it was an inevitable part of his downhill slide after Holmes’ complete ownership of him.

I have to say, if I ever get into a road rage incident, I am going to try my best to make this my finishing move. Well, either that or I will throw mangoes at them.