Peter Gammons is Funny

Perhaps the most entertaining part of Sunday Night Baseball tonight was Peter Gammons being completely senile and bewildered throughout the whole broadcast. It was like some van just picked him up at a nursing home or wherever he lives and dropped him off at the stadium without letting him know which teams were playing. I’m pretty sure he thought he was in Texas because he couldn’t stop talking about Josh Hamilton. At one point he started talking into the camera, stopped, and stared down at the ground. I think he pooped on himself. Later on in the game the screen went completely black for four or five seconds, and I can only assume that he decided to put the cap over the camera lens. Sunday Night Baseball is probably my new favorite show.

PS, serious question: Is Peter Gammons actually Rick Flair’s dad?

Awesome.

I hate growing older.

Fun with Guns!

Though I can’t really say I’m opposed to it, I really don’t understand the hype behind hunting. What’s so thrilling about sitting around for hours waiting for an animal to approach? I can’t imagine the actual kill justifies all the waiting, since you’re just pulling a trigger, utilizing one of your twenty digits, while the rest of you remains as bored as before.

Then the animal dies, you carry it home, and ultimately chop it up to make chili that doesn’t taste as good as regular chili, not to mention any blood you might accidentally rub on your car’s upholstery. Am I missing something here?

I suppose there’s the argument that it is a manly affair, something which demonstrates our supreme dominance as a species. But I don’t believe that our knowledge of ballistics, physics, and weaponry should distinguish us as the best species. Shooting a gun takes no real courage or valor, anyone can see that. In fact, unless a man is beating a deer or bear with his bare hands, I don’t think hunting proves anything—except, maybe, a special fascination with dressing like a convict.

But say hunting does, in fact, build up a man. Say a man shoots a bear, and earns a bloody, half-ton trophy. It seems to me that much more joy can be derived from the bear in life than in death. Sure, bear meat is succulent, but have you ever looked up bears on Youtube? They’re hilarious. I saw one video where a bear plays ice hockey and another where the bear is being heckled by a clown, and for whatever reason decides to start howling like Bjork. It was priceless! Definitely a lot more priceless than getting a bear stuffed at a taxidermist, which, I’ve learned, can cost thousands of dollars.

But hey, to each his own, right? Just because I prefer my meat to be lead-free doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy a little neurotoxin with your venison chops. And besides, I hear it’s very chic and presentable to have pieces of animal skeleton dangling from plaques on walls, especially next to a gun rack or Klan hood. And I’m certainly not saying that nothing good can come from hunting. Why, even mediocre hunters do great, moving on to careers like the vice presidency of the United States. The sky’s the limit!

A Guide for the Freshmen of This College, 1670

I laughed pretty hard while reading this, which is a small miracle since my median ventral prefrontal cortex is more or less a pile of applesauce after living under power lines my whole life. Good work, Harvard Lampoon.

1. No freshman shall act in a manner unbecoming of a scholar.

2. No freshman shall speak to his senior with his hat on.

3. No freshman shall lean at prayers but shall stand upright.

4. No freshman shall wear his hat in the College yard except when it rains, snows, or hails, or if he be on horseback and hath both hands full with corn, sow feed, or the like, or if he be whipping of his Indian.

5. When a freshman returns to his lodgings and finds that his seniors be baiting a bear within, he shall not conceal his sharpest spears but bring them forth, even if he and his fellows wish to go a-baiting on the morrow.

6. No freshman shall wear his hat while sleeping, except if he put forth a sound reason for doing so, for example, that his head gets cold.

7. At no time shall a freshman beat merrily upon his drum or blow saucily upon his fife, least of all during the hours in which he and his fellows are studying that perfect race, the Greeks.

8. No freshman shall wear his hat at almost any time, yet still it is necessary for him to have a hat.

9. When a freshman is told to go inside a cage, he shall not ask his senior impertinent questions or stall him with an escaping rush but instead shall climb up of his own accord and sing the song that has been taught him, “I Am a Fearful Cage-Bound Boy, Mother,” whilst swinging mournfully back and forth.

10. No freshman shall write his lower case “S’s” as “S’s” but instead shall write them as long and fancy “F’s.”

11. No freshman shall ever be without barrel staves, lest his senior should request a barrel be built him and find the freshman lacking in supplies.

12. When the howl of wolves outside the College gates becomes most loathsome, and the chill of winter freezes dread into the heart and ice onto the eyes, and the Indians which do toil in our fields have most bewilderingly slipped off, leaving us no choice but to sadly starve; during such a time as this, no freshman shall mock his senior for the shedding of tears, but shall instead shed tears along with him, and together, we shall all long for that happy day upon which we return to England.

Linky Link

These jokes are like Sylvia Plath…

- A dwarf in bicycle shorts walks into a tailor’s. Dwarf says, “Hey, you think you could take these in a bit?” The tailor says, “But they’re spandex, they’re snug as can be.” “Oh,” says the dwarf, and with that, he leaves and goes on with his day.

- A hunchback wearing loose trousers enters a hula hoop contest. At the judge’s whistle, the hunchback hula hoops uninterrupted for thirty seconds or so, but still loses by a good margin. Everyone respects his effort.

…because they quit halfway through.

If Al from Angels in the Outfield Actually Worked for the Devil

(Roger is in his bedroom, looking out the window at the moon, which is his physical representation of God. Quietly, he says a prayer.)

Roger:…and God, please divert your cosmic attention from genocides and other atrocities, and let the Angels win the pennant so that my dead-beat Dad will take me back into his abusive household. Amen.

(It is the following day, and Roger and J.P. are sitting near the dugout at the Angels game.)

Roger: Danny Glover, Danny Glover! Come have a conversation with me in the middle of this important baseball game!

Danny Glover: What you want, mongrel?

Roger: I have this special angel friend who can use his superpowers to help your team win. It would be cheating, but his transcendent nature elevates him beyond our human code of morality.

Danny Glover: How do you talk so smart for a little boy? And who’s this other kid?

Roger: This is J.P., my mute and automophobic foster brother. And the angels give me the ability to talk like this.

Danny Glover: Did they give you the ability to do anything else?

Roger: I can turn on the toaster by just looking at it.

Danny Glover: Wow, this must be the real deal! How do I get this angel to work his magic?

Roger: It’s easy, just put your entire game strategy in the trust of this angel whom can only be seen and talked to by me.

Danny Glover: It’s that easy? Sign me up!

(The game continues unaffected for two innings. Danny Glover is notably agitated, and makes it evident by cursing loudly and head-butting several members of his pitching staff. Then, a member from the opposing team hits a high fly ball to the centerfield warning track.)

Matthew McConaughey: I got it! I got it!

Adrien Brody: No, clearly, I’ve got it!

Matthew McConaughey: I don’t believe you, and I’m certainly not going to direct my focus in your direction, thus losing sight of the fly ball!

Adrien Brody: Ditto!

(The two players collide, but instead of falling down they begin slow dancing with one another. James Taylor’s “Copperline” plays in reverse from the loudspeaker, revealing numerous demonic messages.)

Matthew McConaughey: Hey, what’s happening?

Adrien Brody: Seriously, I have less leg control than the cast of Murderball.

Shortstop: Hey! It’s happening to me too!

(Soon the entire team is inexplicably waltzing in the outfield while Al laughs maniacally atop the foul pole, shooting fireballs at drunken buffoons in the bleachers.)

Danny Glover: Roger, what in the name of John Rocker’s lexicon is happening out there?

Roger: I don’t know! It’s almost as if…HE’S A DEVIL’S ADVOCATE!

Pete Rose: No! I bet my wedding ring on this game!

Danny Glover: Dagummit Roger, look what you’ve done. To think I was planning on adopting you and giving you your first nice Christmas.

Roger’s Dad: And now you’re coming to live with me because I’ve had a change of heart. Say hello to years of secondhand smoke and leathery biker chicks.

Al: And one more thing, Roger. You’ve just opted into a thousand year, single-soul contract with Satan himself, which is to be served selling souvenir T-shirts along the river Styx.

Roger: No!!!

Unlikely Facebook Bumper Stickers

“Pardon me for not getting up.”

Here are some of my favorite responses from a recent Tom Waits interview in the Independent. He’s got such a chaotically creative mind, and his range of knowledge absolutely floors me.

Q: Can you tell me an odd thing that happened in an odd place? Any thoughts?

A: A Japanese freighter had been torpedoed during the Second World War, and it’s at the bottom of Tokyo harbour with a large hole in her hull. A team of engineers was called together to solve the problem of raising the wounded vessel to the surface. One of the engineers tackling this puzzle said he remembered seeing a Donald Duck cartoon when he was a boy where there was a boat at the bottom of the ocean with a hole in its hull, and they injected it with ping-pong balls and it floated up. The sceptical group laughed but one of the experts was willing to give it a try. Of course, where in the world would you find 20 million ping-pong balls but in Tokyo? It turned out to be the perfect solution. The balls were injected into the hull and it floated to the surface, the engineer was elated. Moral solutions to problems are always found at an entirely different level; also, believe in yourself in the face of impossible odds.

Q: How would you compare guitarists Marc Ribot and Smokey Hormel?

A: Octopus have eight tentacles and squid have 10 tentacles, each with hundreds of suction cups, and each have the power to burst a man’s artery. They have small birdlike beaks used to inject venom into a victim. Some gigantic squid and octopus with one-hundred-foot tentacles have been reported. Squids have been known to pull down entire boats to feed on the disoriented sailors in the water. Many believe that unexplained, sunken deep-sea vessels, and entire boat disappearances, are the handiwork of giant squid.

Q: What’s scary to you?

A: 1. A dead man in the back seat of a car with a fly crawling on his eyeball.
2. Turbulence on any airline.
3. Sirens and searchlights combined.
4. Gunfire at night in bad neighbourhoods.
5. Car motor turning over but not starting, it’s getting dark and starting to rain.
6. Jail door closing.
7. Going around a sharp curve on the Pacific Coast Highway and the driver of your car has had a heart attack and died, and you’re in the back seat.
8. You are delivering mail and you are confronted with a Dobermann with rabies growling low and showing teeth… you have no dog bones and he wants to bite your ass off.
9. In a movie… which wire do you cut to stop the time bomb, the green or the blue?
10. McCain will win.
11. Germans with sub-machine guns.
12. Officers, in offices, being official.
13. You fell through the ice in the creek and it carried you downstream, and now as you surface you realise there’s a roof of ice

Read the interview here.

Polar bear stranded in Iceland killed by police

A polar bear, stranded hundreds of miles from its natural habitat, was killed by Icelandic police on Tuesday. Said a police representative, “We just really, really, really wanted some Coca Cola.”