Iran halts flogging, declares morale improved

Iranians be not so different from ye and me, in that we all become violent from too many listenings to "Happy."
Iranians be not so different from ye and me, in that we all secretly side with John Lithgow’s character in Footloose after too many listenings to “Happy.”

The Iranian government dropped charrrges against seven young lads and lasses fer making an “obscene video clip that offended the public morals and was released in cyberspace.” If ye be wonderin’ just what the little blighters were up to in said video, they were dancing to Pharrell Williams’ song “Happy.”

Six were originally sentenced to six months in prison and 91 lashes, and the seventh to  one year in addition to the lashings. However, all seven publicly apologized and promised t’ never again be lured into making what a Tehran police chief called a “vulgar clip that hurt public chastity.”

So, let this be a lesson to ye young Iranians: the floggings will cease when morale improves — improvement being from “Happy” to gruelingly chaste.

Crickets aren’t gentlemen in a fight

Douche.
Douche.

If there were any crickets involved in the attack on New York we told you about yesterday, there’s little doubt that they are chirping and bragging away right now. We know this because of science.

A researcher in Ontario (yes, sadly, in Canada), has found that crickets will talk trash through their chirping and dance around before they fight. Also, apparently crickets fight. And when they win, the crickets even brag, which is a clear indication that the concept of sportsmanship can’t be comprehended by the insect brain, or that all crickets are from New Jersey.

Eat My Sports: Can’t spell ‘sports entertainment’ without ‘sports’

Bryan Schools is still learning what it’s like to go the rest of his life without sex, so I’m filling in for him this week. Here’s “Take These Sports from Snee and Eat Them.”

I’m not about to say that the entire sporting world is in trouble. But, certain teams and players could use a–ahem–boost:

That was the stands from last night’s Baltimore/Kansas City game at Camden Yard. Granted, it had rained all day and night, but even if you lived next door, would you bother to attend to watch the Orioles and the Royals? The title card alone sounds like it was pronounced by Foghorn Leghorn after a stroke.

They’re not alone. Detroit fans were already hesitant to spend money of Lions games, but now they’re abandoning the city and surrounding suburbs. How do you justify spending cash (we assume they still sell tickets) to a Kid Rock crowd?

You give them exactly why they watch Syfy and USA, and it’s not for Eureka or Psych; it’s for professional wrestling. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Can’t spell ‘sports entertainment’ without ‘sports’

Don’t call it a remake

The biggest headline in all news important to Bryan McBournie is this huuuge Hollywood announcement:

Zac Efron will be in the new Footloose!!!1!

The plan is to modernize the 80s classic to include (presumably) abstinence pledges, new songs by the Jonas Brothers and the Baptists — led by Kevin Bacon — successfully upholding their ban on all forms of dancing except choreographed numbers.

To those of you who bought tickets to High School Musical 3, effectively unleashing this miracle of film on us:

You suck.

How To: Get married

We’ve provided several How Tos on how to get into a relationship. This isn’t one of those.

No, this How To is about making the whole ordeal much, much easier. At some point, you’re going to consider taking the plunge, whether it’s a matter of financial security, citizenship, wanting to breed or the government finally said it’s OK. (Keep your chins up, robo sapiens!)

That is why The Guys sat down and drafted this handy guide that explains how to get married.

Continue reading How To: Get married

The McBournie Minute: Wedding receptions

We are gathered here this morning to discuss something very important in everyone’s lives, more importantly, other people’s lives. That subject is the beauty of a wedding and the free alcohol that comes with it.

This past Saturday I spent in Boston for a friends’ wedding. For those of you who have never been to Boston in February, I highly recommend it. It’s beautiful this time of year. It was an oppressively warm 26 degrees on Saturday, with not a cloud in the sky. Most of the snow had melted, leaving only salt and mud behind. This is why Boston’s tourism flourishes during February.

I am convinced that everyone who attends a wedding has one thing on their minds: “I hope this thing has a nice spread.” In this regard, some weddings are better than others. This is what can make or break a wedding for most people. On Saturday, I was not disappointed. There were roughly five courses, or plates, I can never remember the difference, and each one was better than the one before it.

But the best part was the open bar. There, I was free to imbibe as many Jack and Cokes as my liver desired (there was also some drink ordering for the date, as well). There is something mystical about an open bar and being all dressed up for an event. It makes you want to drink, but look fancy doing it. What may have been the smartest move overall at this wedding was there was no dancing, nor was there karaoke. I say this not because I was in danger of dancing or singing (though I was tempted on the Frank Sinatra songs), but because seeing other people do it can ruin an experience.

The year is still young, and by my count, I still have four more weddings on my schedule. May the brides and grooms have eternal happiness, and may the food at their receptions be excellent.