So this past weekend one of my all-time favorite sporting events occurred, Nathan’s Annual Hot Dog Eating Contest. I can’t remember when I started making this the focal point of my holiday, but needless to say I am thoroughly entertained for a solid hour. This year’s victor for the third straight time was America’s own Joey Chestnut. Taking the title back from that freakazoid known simply as Kobayashi. But amid all the character bios, pan-seared cow brain contests and douchebags with face paint, everyone else missed a point that I did not: we’re defeating the animals with these contests.
Maybe our Coney Island bretheren were on to something almost 100 years ago when they started the eating contest. Maybe they were the early Guys and thought “man, there sure are a lot of pigs around here, maybe if there are too many they will rise up and revolt against us. Why don’t we just kill them and see who can eat the most of their remains in a 10 minute timespan?” Because I know that’s what I’m thinking when I watch them live from New York. You see, these contestants are masked warriors, eating these animals, so that you and I don’t have to fight them. Continue reading Eat My Sports: The war we are winning

Pope Benedict XVI, a man chosen by God to sit on a golden throne in a palace that makes up its own city that is full of locked-away treasures, is asking business people of the world to ask themselves, “WWJD?”
The n-bomb. Midget. They don’t really match up that well in terms of offensiveness.