In the past several years of covering presidential elections — and some mid-terms because, contrary to what the Greens and Libertarians think, we elect people every year to leadership positions besides President — The Guys have seen various disclosure trends. If someone’s running against a millionaire, they push to release tax returns. If running against a black person who may have been born in Kenya, they push to release birth certificates, college grades and possibly even drug tests.
Oh, hello, online patients. I hope you didn’t eat all of the copies of Highlights in the waiting room since the last edition of Ask Dr. Snee. I’m taking a break from watching the Olympics — and totally not hiding from malpractice suits (whaaaat.) — in Rio, so I figured that I’d answer some of the letters my attorney forwarded me.
What is cupping, why is Michael Phelps doing it, and why won’t my doctor recommend it?
— In Pain in Pawtucket
“Cupping” is the ancient Egyptian word for “keeping your massage parlor ahead of the competition.” Basically, you take the existing massage treatment — rubbing you until you’re either too embarrassed or ejaculate your problems away — and then multiply it by 72, the mystical number of virgins awaiting hucksters in heaven. Continue reading
So, I’m scanning the news today, per usual, looking for some bizarre or funny story to bring you. And you know what? There’s nothing funny out there right now. Everyone’s hurting and, naturally, there are no immediate answers because, while life is documented through stories, the complications of life are not a simple story.
There’s no simple ending to wrap up two years of documented indifference — at best — and hostility to black lives (and who knows how many years undocumented). There also isn’t a nice, neat resolution where the police officers who are fixtures of their respective communities go to work without wondering if they’re coming home again.
So, rather than try to say something trite about how it’s all going to be okay, and since I don’t have a story about whatever stupid thing Pepsi did today, I’ll tell you a story about something stupid that I did that led to a doctor shoving a tampon up my nose for a week.
Because, f*ck it, man. Continue reading
Seven years ago (holy balls, this blog is old), I wrote about how generations are a mostly useless way to figure out how any one person will preside over the free world. Unfortunately, nobody read it, because the generations are now using their birth decades to wage an online civil war between the only two generations that matter now: Baby Boomers and Millennials.
So, I’m upgrading my original pronouncement from 2009. Your generation doesn’t just suck, it’s also horsesh*t, and here’s why … Continue reading
I love baseball. Probably because I barely watch it, thanks to arcane legal agreements that make baseball a cable-only sport. (Streaming only works if you’re not a home team fan willing to shell out for MLB.com because they black out home games. Or if you’re a much more technically literate person than me.) Point is: I can forgive baseball its flaws because it’s barely around to bore me 5 hours at a time most days.
The best part about baseball is that it’s a human story. The players aren’t hidden behind helmets and body-changing pads. Except for the HGH Era, they look roughly like you and me, questionable facial hair choices and all. And, like the rest of us, they have personalities you can actually see and hear.
That’s also the problem recently, as Curt Shilling really, really wants us to know about Muslims, Hillary Clinton and — in recent headlines — transgender women using the women’s room.
On the one hand, I respect Curt Schilling’s pitching accomplishments. On the other, he demands that I respect his opinions, which weren’t asked for and make him look and sound like a douchebag.
So, how tolerant do I have to be? Do I have to tolerate it when someone’s an unbidden jackass in a public forum? You probably know the answer to this question, but hit the jump to find out why we don’t have to tolerate it from anyone who’s just “expressing his opinion.” Continue reading
There are many sub-categories and somewhat self-enclosed communities on the Internet. Each has their own particular set of users. Redditors seem to trade memes back and forth; 4chaners are best left to their own devices; and Twitter … ers? Twitters? Twits? Are mostly frustrated comedians stealing each others’ jokes and waiting for celebrities and businesses to screw up in real time. And then there’s Tumblr.
Tumblr is a bizzare niche. It’s like blogging, only everyone’s blogs look like they were designed on Blogger 10 years ago. For the most part, it’s used to promote artsy pornography and document every instance of sexism or racism in history. But, every so often, Tumblr-ers try their hand at actual fields of study. It goes about as well as you’d expect: a lot of misinformation spread quickly because “somebody got told.”
Case in point: the difference between English and American accents in the image above. It’s complete hogwash, of course, but that didn’t stop it from spreading to other communities over time (which is how I found it). Continue reading
For years, white people have wondered when we would get our own history month. As we look around from the window of not-a-jail-cell, we see Black History Month, Black Entertainment Television, the Source Awards, and yet all we get are some lousy Oscars, 42-out-of-43 presidents and rehab.
Well, it’s high time we bucked up. There is a White History Month, Virginia, and there’s only a week left of it. So, let’s get celebrating!
[OK, so if you’re new to this site, you’re probably here to explain why we don’t need a White History Month. And, I agree with you: the other 11 months of the year work just fine as is, and giving honkies our own month is one of those lame #ALLlivesmatter responses to merely suggesting we learn about anyone else’s contributions to the world.
But, if we look at actual behavior, then I think we can all agree that there is a White History Month. And it’s definitely March.]
So, why March …? Continue reading
The Baseball Hall of Fame is, like a 1960s bus, divided in half. There is one committee for determining who gets inducted from prior to integration, and another committee for selecting inductees from post-integrated Major League Baseball.
This is justified because we have no idea how well white baseball players would have done and which teams would have won had black ball players not been banned from major league play. The Negro League had a number of stars that would have changed the entire competitive layout and style of play in MLB. For all we know, a team with Satchel Paige pitching would have destroyed the Yankees batting line-up of Mantle, DiMaggio and Gehrig.
And now that the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has failed to nominate any actors of color for two years in a row, we should consider putting an asterisk next to last year’s and this year’s winners. Continue reading
The Tennessee Valley Authority might sell off a site featuring an incomplete nuclear power plant. The only catches are that the tech installed there dates back to the 1970s, the reactor is not complete and you’d have to live in Alabama.
This would be a prime real estate opportunity for anyone considering:
- Embarking on a work-from-home career in supervillainy.
- Building a life-sized replica of Springfield from The Simpsons.
- Forsaking living anywhere nice just to pay less in taxes.
If interested, please contact TVA before March 18 and tell them that you think it’s a great idea. Also, please don’t run any supervillain name/shtick ideas past them; that’s your problem, bub.
Rather than use a metaphorical scrotum of a human being like Lance Armstrong, Brazil went balls out and chose an actual anthropomorphized set of testicles to speak for testicular cancer awareness. And just to really teabag the point home, they named him Senhor Testiculo.
Senhor Testiculo will appear at events on behalf of Brazil’s Association of Personal Assistance for Cancer, posing for pictures and helping convince people to donate to testicular cancer research.
There’s no word if he shaves and then only grows a mustache every November.
Special thanks to Patrick H. for waving this story around in our faces.