Do you ever wake up with a crick in your neck and think, "WTF, I sleep the same way every night, what's so different about last night?" Yeah. I'm asking myself that right now. I feel like I have a facehugger embedded in my neck, which means that whatever alien has attacked my body is somewhat inaccurate but still dreadfully effective. The human body is a really bizarre, unmanageable flesh tube, which is why I think we should get rid of our human bodies and replace them with robotic ones. Not like in that weird Bruce Willis movie "The Surrogates," where people send out their robotic clones or whatever and have sex and commit murders while they sit at home getting fat (yeah, because that's what everyone secretly wants to do all the time ...). I mean we should literally transpose our brain data into robotic shells and have a Monty-Pythonian clean-up of the human bodies when we're done. And with a robot body, we could cart around so much more dead weight! This idea has no flaws!
With the release of "Real Steel" in movie theatres, which is essentially a full-length movie about Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots, which was a toy released in the good ol' days that people laugh at nowadays with their XBoxes and Spider-Men (uh oh, old man Erik is trying to poke through), it's obvious to me that everyone would be immediately on-board with the robo-switch. Just think, no more neck cricks. No more bathroom breaks. No more hunger. No more thirst. Don't get me wrong, we'll still have the functionality to do all of those things if we want to (different models will have different options, sort of like buying a car), but we won't have to. Isn't that really the American dream? To not have to pee anymore?
If that's not enough incentive, the Japanese are way ahead of us in developing humanoid robots and future androids. Do we really want to lose to the Japanese? We're Americans! We're first in everything! Except reading, math, science, etc. But, dammit, we have more guns than you, so HA! Try stopping us with your "math and science," world, especially when we have our robotic bodies.
- Alex Rodriguez struck out against Detroit's Jose Valverde to end the Yankees' season last night (is everyone else smiling too?). The Elias Sports Bureau confirmed this morning that Rodriguez is the only player in Major League Baseball history to strike out to end his team's playoffs in consecutive years, which makes him the most expensive and successful fuck-up in human history! I'm sure he went home and mourned by drinking liquified gold and wiping away his tears with Amanda Bynes (relax, she wasn't doing anything anyway).
- You're probably wondering why I chose Amanda Bynes there, and also probably still grasping for clarification on how he would wipe himself with a whole person. To answer your questions, a) I don't know, she just seemed like a good fit, plus she's not acting anymore so she'd be easily swayed with a bit of cash to do something degrading like that (up next, Amanda Bynes porn?), and b) steroids.
- When I was a kid, I really wanted to be a surgeon. I guess my gore-tolerance was high even as a child ... watching surgery tapes my mom would bring home while I ate lunch. Yes, surgery tapes, whilst eating. I never understood why people though that was weird. The operating room is an incredibly-sterile environment, and those nurses and surgeons are quite sure-handed. What's the big deal? Well, I was reminded of my gory childhood last night when Oregon Ducks running back LaMichael James turned his arm into (warning: normal people might find this gross) a science experiment. James apparently dislocated his arm, and may be out for the rest of the season, but if they do end up having to operate on him, I sure hope they put a live stream on the Internet.
- Tiger Woods is struggling at the Frys.com Open (best name for a tournament ever?). I'm pretty sure I know what the problem is: No drink cart girls at PGA events.
- You know, I try to keep things classy around here. I don't want to be one of those sports writers who's always hunting for the easiest, crassest joke (bathroom humor is not the same as bathroom science, so back off). Even the big boys of sports reporting tend to wander into awkward locker-room talk with the ease of a 16-year-old boy (just watch ESPN for a day and you'll know what I mean). But sometimes you come across something so spectacular that you have to report it, and you quickly realize that these things are out of your hands. The Rhode Island School of Design is not known for its athletic prowess, but what it lacks in talent it makes up for in spunk (dammit, Erik). RISD's men's hockey team's name is "The Nads," their men's basketball team is called "The Balls," and their women's basketball team goes by "The Jugs" ... equal opportunity awesomeness, there. But for the piece de resistance, Rhode Island School of Design's official mascot is a giant penis+testicles named "Scrotie." I am not making this up. It's a guy in a genital costume (which I think is a bit redundant) named Scrotie. We are the 99%.
- The Chicago White Sox recently hired Robin Ventura, best known for getting beat up by Nolan Ryan and having to sign pictures of himself getting beaten up by Nolan Ryan at conventions, to be their new manager after Ozzie Guillen left for the Marlins. The White Sox are trying a new hiring method where you hire someone who's never coached before, which is a bit like hiring someone to run a banana stand who's never run a banana stand before. And we all know how that turned out.
- Scottish golfer Elliot Saltman made a hole-in-one on the third hole at the Madrid Masters, which in itself is a fantastic feat. But the Spanish tournament had a special prize for any holes-in-one on the third hole: A golfer's bodyweight in salted ham. The golfer's last name is Saltman, and he weighs 235 pounds, and he just won his bodyweight in salted ham. This was simply meant to be.