Take it from Snee: Keep your mitts off of Halloween

Once again, a major holiday happens to fall on Hump Day, and like last time, "Take it from Snee" will observe it. I'm a huge fan of Halloween, and like The Guys who are Red Sox fans, I've endured countless ups and downs.

In the early years, I couldn't catch a break on Halloween and suffered through embarrassing mom-planned costumes like a bunny rabbit or a clown (before everyone became afraid of both). Then, there was the phase where I chose poorly: popular cartoon characters that are sadly dated, a foray into budget sci-fi ("Space Kid?" Really?) and the occasional ninja costume. The high point of this era was Joe Theisman and a wounded soldier.

And then ... there was a crisis of faith: those teenage years where I was too old to trick-or-treat, but sexy Halloween parties were light-years away. I stopped observing Halloween, except to watch marathons of bad horror movies while handing out candy.

College, though, is when I went through a Halloween renaissance. Alcohol thankfully replaced candy, except for Candy, who dressed as a nurse. I suddenly understood why Elvira had big cans: because they're as much a part of Halloween as worshiping our Dark Lord, the Desolate One. Or maybe they were genetic. Whatever, and good for her.

Rediscovering Halloween in this light is analogous, at least to me, of my team winning the series. It's a vindication of the human spirit to know that I was right all along to think it is the best holiday of the year.

Think about it:

• Thanksgiving means spending time with your family, which means wearing a sweater, hearing the same stories all over again, and hiding your smoking, drinking and closeted sexual deviancy. It also means a mangled turkey because who regularly practices baking an entire turkey for 6 hours in the 21st century?
  
  
• Christmas is alright, I guess. There's presents, and it's that-guy-who-dies-every-spring's birthday, so everyone is nice to each other. But, once again, there's family (see Thanksgiving). Oh yeah, and you're broke from buying shower radios and foot baths for every distant aunt or uncle.
  
  
• New Year's is downright depressing. Everyone gets drunk because the year is over, but--LOOK OUT--there's another year coming up at midnight. So you make a list of everything that's wrong with you, knowing that if you've put off a diet for one entire year, you sure as hell won't do it next year. The only option is to drink yourself to near-alcohol poisoning and kiss someone that sure ain't your wife. Damn, that's really depressing. I should fix that next year.

But that's not to say that Halloween is perfect.

Halloween is when the psychos march out of the woodworks. I don't mean the goth kids or actual criminally insane that suddenly blend in, but the non-believers.

There are, of course, those fanatics that denounce Halloween as a pagan ritual designed to lure children to the devil. But then, they also use their own pagentry to lure children to their own religion, so are they really that trustworthy? It makes sense that those that push their own agenda on the public would assume everyone else is doing the same thing, I guess.

By just examining Christian rock, you can see their mistaken assumptions about rock music, as in its purpose--to play-act rebellion--and its sound--awesome. Christian rock does neither. So, of course, they make the same mistakes with Halloween: instead of rebelling for a night and look awesome, they try to scare us into accepting God ... again.

And then, there are the "What Happened to Halloween?" crowd. Most of these people are newspaper columnists, so that shows how much they've adapted to the times. Every year, they apply the latest cultural fears to Halloween and try to explain why we've perverted it.

This year's--and also for the past several years--fear is sluts. They're afraid of women dressed as naughty [insert profession here]s, and they've resorted to their usual tactics: child human shields. You see, because of adult women's whorish natures, girl children are becoming sluts, too--or, as they put it--sexualized.

This, as always, ignores the fact that children ignorant to sex cannot sexualize themselves. Adults sexualize children. I present this, with the expectation of outcry in the comments below: if you are made uncomfortable by a child with a bare midriff, you might be suppressing pedophilia.

And if you are upset by women dressing playfully, then you either (a) have your own twisted self-esteem issues regarding your body or inadequate sex life or (b) are possessive by nature and get upset when people notice your girlfriend/wife (e.g., that "Islamofascism" that these same people are normally at war with). And if your problem is b, then you also have to evaluate whether you have an unhealthy fascination with the woman that bothers you so much.

The argument is sure to be made that, by dressing down women and girls, they're protecting them from predators. Like with the Christians, I ask: how can you control other people's reactions? Pedophiles target children dressed as children, which includes Elmo costumes. If you're actually concerned about children's safety from rapists, then get involved. Escort your children while trick-or-treating. But don't sit at home and blame everyone else.

And regarding grown women, would you say that women ask to be raped, that they deserve it if they wear a little more than what they wear at the beach? The law and I agree (for once) and you have some sick punishment fantasies.

Because I am a die-hard Halloween fan, I think it's important to preserve it for what it is: one designated night per year of masquerades and ribaldry. There's a reason why people are lured to the stage or writing, and that's to pretend to be something else, which is often taboo because we get to be, as Cary Tennis put it, normal every other damn day.

Happy Halloween from SG

We're getting word that today is Halloween, better known as Day 1 of the Christmas shopping season, according to retailers. To help celebrate we're putting a temporary pause on our zombie watch, since so many will be out this evening. But the truce ends in the morning.

Heading out to a Halloween party? Try not to pass out while in costume. Passengers on a German train saw a man slumped over, covered in blood. They tried to wake him, but he was unresponsive. Fearing him dead, they called authorities, only to find he was passed out drunk and in costume.

In other news, still not sure what to go as tonight?

2 + 2 = A lot

A Georgia father is understandably peeved after his son ran up (or was bilked into?) a $53,000 strip club tab in just one night, all while celebrating his graduation from college. It doesn't take a genius to guess that he probably didn't major in finance.

Eight-minute absinthe

As you enjoy your morning eye-opener bourbon and coffee, there is some great news to report: the U.S. ban on absinthe has been lifted!

You may know the green liquor from Europe, where it made a faster comeback from vicious rumors it made one violent. In its heyday, the late 19th century and early 20th century, it was more popular worldwide than wine or beer. It was also the drink of choice for artsy types. So buy some for Halloween, or get it ready for the trippiest Thanksgiving ever.

Though this blog isn't exactly clear on how the Big Green Wall finally came down, and neither story helps much, we promise to track down more information. Raise a glass!

Eat My Sports: Rebels without a curse, the 2007 World Champion Boston Red Sox

In 2004, with a miraculous comeback against the rival New York Yankees, a beat down of the St. Louis Cardinals and one last pitch, stab and toss from Keith Foulke, the Boston Red Sox exorcised 86 years of frustration by capturing the World Series title and the hearts of a nation.

With another comeback against the up and coming Cleveland Indians, a slaughtering of the Colorado Rockies, and one last 94 mph fastball from Jonathan Papelbon, the 2007 version of the Boston Red Sox captured their second title in four years and put the final bit of icing on that 2004 cake.

With the curse of the Bambino erased from memory, these Red Sox played with confidence and a refusal to believe that they were anything but the best.

Most of us grew up thinking we would never witness one, much less two titles in our lifetime. The cynical Sox fan was a staple in sports just as much as the brash Yankees fans who hid behind the fact that their teams were the only ones that could really afford a World Series. I guess it's a new era to live in, this team has the making to be a contender for a long time. Bill Buckner, you were forgiven after 2004, now we'll actually let you back into Fenway.

Even after being down three games to one against the Indians, you just had a sense that this team wasn't going to let you down like the Sox of old. You just knew that Josh Beckett couldn't lose game five. And after J.D. Drew belted out $14 million worth of a grand slam in the first inning of game six, well ... quite frankly when J.D. Drew hits anything you know the bounces are going your way.

From April 18 on, this team had the look of champions. And not that old, beat-up champion coming back for one more shot at glory (or money, I'm looking at you Sylvester Stallone). These Sox had the look of well groomed contenders. They never stumbled, never gave way to the Yankees, never really gave the Red Sox Nation a reason to panic ... which for a change, was actually kind of nice.

Straight through to Papelbon looking like a deranged psycho as Jason Varitek sprinted toward the mound on Sunday night, these weren't the Idiots we loved of 2004. They were the rebels that gave their fans a reason to believe that maybe Hell could freeze over twice in a lifetime. (And just for bragging purposes, I would like to state that the Sox have more titles this millennium than the Yankees, just throwing it out there. Now who is cursed?)

It's a new feeling in Beantown, and in the immortal words of Chazz Michael Michaels, this victory was as sweet as the cream pies the city is known for.

How they did it:
Well for starters, let's throw these names that were acquired/ developed over the past two seasons.

Mike Lowell. The MVP protected Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz while they were slumping with his 21 HR, and more importantly his 120 RBI to solidify that middle part of the lineup. Simply put, Lowell made pitchers in the playoffs look even more ridiculous than a Britney Spears comeback attempt. (P.S. kids, her new album "Blackout" drops today.)

Josh Beckett. That was the most impressive playoff performance I have ever witnessed. This is why teams wanted him, he is even more unfazed by pressure than anyone.

Daisuke Matsuzaka. He got better as the playoffs went on. Remember, this guy was an MLB rookie this year. The makings of a dominant ace are all in order. He just needs to work on that whole air humping bit he does before he delivers a pitch.

Jonathan Papelbon. Does the guy even need caffeine? I swear you could power an entire city if he had an electrical output. He reminds me of Al Pacino in Scarface, So calm and composed, but then just goes freaking crazy. I honestly want him to start saying "SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!!!" before he delivers every pitch. Also, name another player that is of non-Irish decent to have a river dancing Irish jig DVD coming out. (Chugs does not count)

J.D. Drew. For nine months I really wondered why we would pay $14 million for a career punchline like Drew. Then in October, it clicked. Pay attention A-Rod and Yankees fans alike, I would rather pay a guy $14 million to be average in the regular season and actually PERFORM when it counts in the postseason, than have it the other way around.

Now the staples from 2004:

Manny Ramirez. Sure his nonchalant attitude towards the Indians series might have ticked off more than a few people. But he's just proving time and time again that Manny being Manny leads to postseason dominance. Also, I've come to the conclusion that I never want Manny to cut those dreds.

David Ortiz. The guy is just fun. Big Papi literally (and figuratively) ate up the competition, and drank more than a few bottles of champagne. Anyone see the guy get on top of the table in the clubhouse and douse everyone in there?

Curt Schilling. The old timer in perhaps his last go round with the Sox in the playoffs showed why he's worth every penny. When it comes to the playoffs, Curt throws fire like Star Jones throws down anything edible.

Terry Francona. The Don. The Godfather, never leave Boston.

Top five things that annoy me in sports this week:

5. Joe Buck. After having to listen to his insufferable delivery through 11 Red Sox games, I am praying that ESPN gets the rights to the playoffs at some point in the near future.

4. Scott Boras. Was that really necessary? You are just showing that you and Alex Rodriguez have about as much class as Alice Cooper's "School's Out." (Side note: I have a new theme song)

3. No squirrels. Still haven't seen a squirrel water skiing on the news in about three and a half years, someone needs to change this.

2. New Era. Can anyone make a regular baseball hat anymore? By the time I finally realize what team is on the hat, I get a weird look from someone because I've been staring at their head for about five minutes, which is always fun to explain.

1. New England Patriots. Yup, two weeks in a row. Plain and simple, don't really want any of your games televised anymore.

SomaliYAR!!!!!!

We here at SeriouslyGuys be taking our pirating seriously. Apparently so be them Somalian pirates. So if any of ye swine find yerselves out on the seven seas and get attacked, don't be coming back saying we didn't warn ye.

Interstellar War on Animals

You wouldn't really know it by the story, but aliens obviously hate animals as much as we do. A 1972 meteorite just happened to hit a cow in Venezuela, killing it. It's the only known fatality from a meteor.

Anyone want to place bets it was some Martian sniper's work? We all know cows have it coming to them. In any case, the meteorite sold for $1,554 at an auction recently, while others sold for hundreds of thousands. Clearly, the meteorite-bidding community has no sense of worth for such a precious artifact.

American priests: take note

Ironically, Ireland (that's alliteration, homes), has reported a priest scandal that doesn't involve altar boys.

The priests, instead, stand accused of misappropriating the collection plates by funneling them into a company called, this blog kids you not, Shag. The purpose was to finance gambling and foreign trips, property and lavish gifts for their girlfriends.

This blog recommends that the Vatican file this under "boys will be boys," especially considering their ages: 81, 71 and 64.

Television could become *more* unwatchable soon

Well, it's official: if you weren't sure whether television executives hate you, here's a big, steamy pile of clue.

That's right. More reality shows. As if there weren't enough.

To be fair, at least this means that Grey's Anatomy and Heroes will take a time-out, preferably forever. But oh, the alternative! This is the best time to start a Netflix account if you haven't yet.

War crimes

There is nothing scarier than coming home to find your home has been broken into. Well, maybe an ax murderer is scarier, but for argument's sake, let's stick with the break-in.

An L.A. resident had such a discovery, and immediately had the county sheriff's department respond for the burglary in progress. Turns out, the crook was "really hairy," which is not unreasonable, because he was also a bear.

Perhaps the most shocking part of this story is that the bear was not apprehended. Rather than arresting and charging the bear, officials simply ran him off. This bear must be brought to justice so a lynch mob can be formed!

Worst governor ever

Wisconsinites (Wisconsonians?) were a signature away from getting free shots at grocery stores, until Gov. Jim "Killjoy" Doyle vetoed the measure. Why free liquor in grocery stores? This blog asks, why not? Grocery shopping isn't very entertaining sober, a nip here and there could only improve that.

The good news is that free beer is still allowed. Obviously, it's a totally different animal.

What could make Wisconsin a better place is an veto override by the state legislature of Doyle's veto. Folks, it's time to call your local Wisconsin legislator, or one at random, and tell them how important it is to get crocked while grocery shopping.

This blog has already begun looking at houses in the state.

Halloweird costumes

Want to scare the ever loving crap out of your primarily conservative Republican neighborhood? The polls say go as this.

Mile high entrapment

What kind of sick airline flies planes that have private suites with double beds in them, and then forbids passengers from having sex on board? Singapore Airlines, that's who. If you don't like it, you can get the cane!

Still, maybe it's not that bad of a ban if you think about it. I mean, if the plane is a rocking, you're probably in a lot of trouble.

Fifth columnists in California celebrate creeps

For full effect, please put your 3-D glasses on. Also, you might want to put your coffee cup down.
No drive to war is complete without accusations of fifth columnists here in America, and the War on Animals is no exception.

Coarsegold, California (go figure), has embraced the foe that brought down beloved Captain Kirk. It is ugly, it is hairy and it is smaller than a breadbox: the tarantula.

The tarantula, which is Spanish for "get that f--king thing away from me, AIIEEE!" (yet another word that loses something in translation), is not a cuddly creature. On a scale from one to 10, one being not so deserving of a blow-torchin' and 10 being incredibly deserving of a blow-torchin', tarantulas score a 23.

By protecting these spiders, Coarsegold has sealed their fate, and the locals don't even realize it:

One morning last week when she walked out to her red car, it was white -- completely covered in tarantula webs.

"I believe that was my sign," she says.

"I think it was their little thank-you to me."

Not to say we didn't warn you, but now we have. Either get tough with these invaders, or expect the worst.

The McBournie Minute: Forest fires

Before we begin, I would like to note that the McBournie Minute officially turns a year old today. Here's to another one. Now enough of the self back-patting. One last thing, congratulations to Your 2007 World Series Champs the Boston Red Sox. Moving on.

By now, we've all heard about the forest fires currently ravaging parts of Los Angeles and San Diego. From how it looks at this point, it was the work of an arsonist. Let's all hope they find the person or people responsible. Thousands had to be evacuated, untold amounts of damage to property and probably some people got killed.

They should have seen it coming.

Do you remember middle school science at all? Remember learning about places that are inherently dangerous? Guess what, it doesn't just apply to textbooks. Growing up, I heard constantly how dangerous the California hills were for two main dangers: debris slides and fires, the former being the more common one. This sent a clear signal to me, even as a kid: don't build a house there.

The same principle applies to other areas of the world, for example, flood plains and barrier islands. Sure, it's really nice to have waterfront property. You can't beat the views, and there is almost never any danger, but that doesn't mean it's safe to live there. Flood plains are pretty self explanatory. Barrier islands act as barriers for the coast. They block the strong storm surges caused by storms and hurricanes. Oh yeah, and they are constantly being eroded and moved.

This, however, does not stop development in such areas. Mankind keeps expanding into more remote areas because of the beauty, ignoring the risks. Soon, we forget there is any danger at all, and when something like this happens, we all stand back in shock.

Folks, here's a little advice: don't build a home in a naturally dangerous area, and if you do, get some good insurance.

MasterChugs Theater: 'The Eye'

Ever since Simone Mareuil had a nasty experience with a razor blade in the surrealist classic Un Chien Andalou, horror movies have always had a special relationship with eyes. Sliced, poked, gouged and occasionally popped out of its socket, the eyeball has become the most vulnerable, and most traumatized, organ in film history. The second film from the Pang brothers cultivates horror by taking eyeball horror to new heights, with a story about a cornea transplant that goes horribly wrong. The Eye recalls the hours of terror of a blind young woman, Mun, who, after recovering her sight thanks to a successful transplant, sees her world turned upside down by the presence of ghosts.

By reading that synopsis, you might be telling yourself "Not another 'I see dead people' movie again!" Stop right there. Aside from that very general premise, that's all that The Eye has in common with that line. The story is very well built, maybe a bit slow paced in the middle but always keeps a good nervous rhythm that will keep you tense during the entire movie. If anything, I'd say that the structure of the movie is very similar to not The Sixth Sense, but Ringu, mainly in a sense that there's not too many frightening moments during the whole movie until the final ending which just explodes right in your face.

The cast is also very surprising; the presence and acting quality has really given a deeper feeling to the movie. Angelica Lee plays the lead role of Mann and her acting is just perfect for the role. We don't see much of the other characters since the story really evolves around Mann and her new psychic ability but none of the characters really felt out of place and the acting quality is always excellent during the entire movie; however, another interesting character was the therapist trying to help Mann who is played by Lawrence Chou. There's a great complicity that will develop between these two characters, but fortunately for us the movie doesn't fall into stupid cliché love story and always keep that part of the movie well connected to the movie without taking over the scary feeling of the movie.

On the frightening side, the movie is surprisingly very effective. Hong Kong's attempts at the horror genre tend to come out pretty lame and stupid when they try something serious, but The Eye is really one of a kind. The special effects, by Centro Digital, are flawless. You won't find any stupid makeup ghost trying to scare you with a flash light on his face here, but great and frightening realistic visual effects. I didn't find that there was a lot of scary moments during the movie but the atmosphere was always very tense and mystical which really keep you on your nerves all along the movie. Particularly noteworthy is the elevator sequence, where by use of editing, performance and dread, the Pangs arguably create the most memorable scene in the genre since ever. There's also a lot of emotion and panic at the end of the movie, something that will make you remember this movie for a long time for sure.

Premiering in 2002 and in the wake of The Sixth Sense and its many imitators, Mun's visions of dead people are so conventional that it's hard to find any of this particularly frightening, and as the film reaches its inevitable conclusion in which vision, precognition and tragedy merge, the plot developments might as well have been written out in Braille. Strange metaphor aside, that's a good thing. Hollywood has successfully remade Ringu, and such a successful item as the Pangs' film is inevitably following. Tom Cruise has his own version in pre-production. Whatever the final merits of a project that will inevitably be more star driven and glossier, for the time being horror addicts can be recommended the original, which, like Ring, has a unique sensibility that is hard to beat. As a frightener, The Eye rarely blinks, and is best watched with the lights on. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Ball fever's on the brain

Baseball fever, that is, specifically the World Series. Of course, unless it's "quirky" news, it doesn't posted here.

It seems some Red Sox fans are going a little batty with World Series fever ... orrrrr maybe they just figure baseball is as good an excuse as any to troll for sex on Craigslist. Why should the players get to do all the scoring? Let's hope that the "Green Monster" isn't a euphemism for anything.

Don't think that the other team in the Series is without fault either. If you thought Red Sox fans were bonkers, what about the Colorado Rockies booster who is willing to give up a 25-year strong Playboy collection just to go to one World Series game? Quick, someone get that collection so we can read the articles while that thin Rocky Mountain air is affecting his judgment!

Barbarism or barbering?

Bidders of world, unite! A lock of hair purportedly snipped from the corpse of Che Guevara in 1967 went up for auction recently. The hair, which can only be described as "hair-looking," fetched $100,000 and was purchased by a 61-year-old man.

His bid was the only one in the auction, and it met the minimum bid. Apparently, Che isn't as collectible as his T-shirts.

However, being a Marxist, he would hate the fact that his hair became a trophy of ownership by the wealthy. He would probably want the $100,000 to be spread evenly across the country. Take that, commie!

Snakes in a storage unit

Folks, this blog touts the virtues of the brave men and women fighting the War on Animals, we also encourage our readers to help the fight and be ready however they can. One thing we don't recommend is leaving animals alone for days on end.

Not because we're worried about the enemy's welfare, but rather, with no one to guard them, someone else is bound to stumble upon these detainees. Such a case happened in Florida recently, when managers of a storage shed opened up one rented room that was late on payment. They found deadly and exotic snakes.

This could have ended in human injury or loss of human life. Remember: don't neglect animals, execute them.

Violin haven

Who said that music doesn't save?

Night of the sleeping nude

We've all heard about how sleep aids can lead to sleep walking, eating, driving, even having sex. So clearly, it's not a good idea to take such pills if this kind of thing ends up happening to you. However, a hotel chain in England is having a new problem.

Sleepwalking naked people have increased sevenfold in the past year, mostly dudes, or as they say in England, blokes. As the story suggests, these people may not actually be sleepwalking, they may be some kind of zombie pranksters, bent on disrupting a peaceful English evening. We need to keep that island nation isolated, like in 28 Days Later. The zombie plague must be quarantined!

How To: Fake your own death

Every so often, you will need a new identity. Maybe you're from a race of immortals who must occasionally submit a death certificate to avoid arousing suspicion. Or perhaps you haven't paid your bills in five years. And then there's always doing it because you don't want to kill yourself, but you'd like to make everyone pay for not going to your choice at the movies ("You'll miss me and 3:10 to Yuma when I'm gone!"). Whatever: you have your reasons. But the only thing worse than a prat fall is a transparent prat fall that fools nobody. That's why The Guys will now explain how to fake your own death.

Tools:
A fake will/insurance policy (optional)
Fire
A safe house or travel plans

1) Don't prepare anything for your "demise."
If you don't have a will, don't suddenly write one. And, for the love of Gene Krupa, do not take out a new life insurance policy on yourself.* Don't leave extra food for your pets, shut off the power to your home, cancel your subscription to Vogue or anything else that signals you're going out for longer than an afternoon. The less you prepare for your "death," the less likely people will think you had something planned.

*Exception: if the purpose is to frame someone for your murder, then draft an insurance policy/will that leaves everything to them.

2) Always use fire as your means of death.
Why fire? It's the in-vogue fear right now. Thanks to the California fires being leaked to arson--or, according to Fox News, Al Qaeda--it's the number three fear on people's minds behind spiders and men's room propositions. This means that they will have the proper sense of outrage/convincing that you intended. You can even leave your burnt-up body in the middle of your pristine living room, chalking up your death as another case of spontaneous human combustion.

Also, because fire will destroy all biological evidence of the surrogate body you're leaving as evidence.

Wait, you mean you don't have a body?

3) Get a body.
Apply comic book/soap opera rule #589: no body, no dead. Without the body, you're missing, which is exactly what you don't want. Missing people are all over the news and everyone will look for you.

The best place to look for bodies is in old apartment complexes. That's where old people die and nobody notices for weeks until the smell builds up. The best part is that the cats will have already starting cleaning the meat off of the bones, so that gives you a head start on burning off biological identification. Finally, if someone finally notices they're gone, they'll think they're missing, which means all attention will be on them, not you.

Referring back to step #2, this is probably why all spontaneous human combustion cases are old people.

4) Get out of Dodge.
Once you have set the body, you need to leave. Immediately.

If your plan was to disappear, great. You're already on your way. Just don't book any tickets under your real name.

If you're waiting to see responses, check into the seediest motel possible under a fake name. Do not stay with a friend, no matter how much you trust them. He or she may not say anything now, but they will in a few years when torture becomes a standard practice again.

5) Back so soon?
Remember when you were 8 and you told your parents that you were running away? (Or remember when your favorite 80s sitcom kid said that?) How far did you (they) get before coming home? It's very possible you won't get across the street before giving up.

Do not admit to faking your own death. At best, you will alienate all of your friends and family, which means you'll have to do the whole thing all over again, only more convincingly. At worst, we're pretty sure fraud and tax evasion are illegal.

Instead, pretend you went on a spontaneous trip to somewhere without phones, lights or motor cars (we recommend Germany) and say, "You mean you didn't find my note? It was sitting on my Lay-Z-Boy where you found that burnt body the vandals left."

Whatever you tell them, let them know in advance that you're returning. The last thing you want is to be mistaken for a zombie and shotgunned/chainsawed. How embarrassing.

Mayor is tough on crime

Are you bored by politics? Do you feel the urge to not vote in any given election? Then you're a terrible person, but you're also nearly two-thirds of Americans. Here's something to get you excited about politics: Matthew Godfrey, mayor of a town in Utah and full-time oompa loompa, is five-foot-six and weighs 136 lbs.

However, that didn't stop him from running down and wrestling a man who allegedly broke into his home and stole a bicycle. He kept the man in a headlock until police arrived. Also, he flexed for the crowd and rambled into a microphone about how tough he was.

This is how are politicians should be chosen. We need to revert back to our ancient political roots: whoever beats up the competition is chief. Matt Godfrey, you have this blog's vote.

Soundproofed for her pleasure

A new female condom will soon be available to the public. Called the FC2 (Eh? Eh? Get it?), it's cheaper and less noisy than the original version; here's hoping it also has other secret features that make people actually want to use it.

If 80s era sitcoms have taught me anything ...

... It's that babies just slide right on out with no grueling seven to ten-hour labor. Oops goes reality.

Can you tell he was a business major?

Mitt Romney, in a bid for the "keep young people off of our lawns" vote, proposed curbing financial for students with useless majors, linking "the amount of financial aid college students get to the kind of jobs they pursue after graduation."

This, of course, flies in the face of the statistic that most professionals do not work in the field they originally studied in college. And this is because: 1) most educations are outdated in the business world within 10 years, and 2) most people don't know what they want to do for the rest of their lives when 18 years old.

Case in point: Mitt Romney. After getting his MBA and making millions, he changed careers to run for governor and then president.

Mitt wasn't satisfied with proving he doesn't understand college, so he continued--probably against the wishes of his handlers--to speak:

"Maybe it’s partly our fault, those of us that are running for office," Romney said. "We don’t spend more time on campus and we probably should spend some more time with students and say, 'Guys get involved, get educated.'"

Yes, because college students have a tough time getting education on their campuses. But keeping people without money out of college will help. Try not to think about it too hard.

Life is a highway

How cool are those electric wheelchair things? Really, it makes your whole life so much cooler. It's like having your own personal golf cart, but you can bring it indoors and it gets you better parking spots. However, as we've learned in the past, it doesn't save you from a DUI.

But now there seems to be another problem, the darn thing takes you down highways. That's what happened to an 81-year-old German woman who was rolling on over to a nearby cemetery (most likely to say hello to her friends or make sure her plot was still there). The woman, traveling at roughly four mph, decided to take it a shortcut and out on the highway going the wrong way.

Turns out, that's illegal or something.

Take it from Snee: Clothes are not the problem

There's this idea that's floated around since I was a bald-faced lad (I'm now a scraggly-faced boy-man) that the solution to all of societies' woes is a dress code. Until recently, it focused exclusively on children, but recent attempts to legislate baggy pants in Atlanta and other states show that we continue to look for a simple solution for a "symptom" as opposed to the problem(s).

The idea that "the clothes make the man" is probably best illustrated by the Looney Tunes. In a particular cartoon, a hats accidentally fly out of a delivery truck and land on Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. With each hat change, their personality changes: a bridal veil turns Elmer into a blushing bride, while an Army helmet turns Bugs into General Patton.

It's a great gag, but there are a lot of people who buy into that idea in real life. It ignores the idea that people change costumes to affect the changes they've always wanted to make about themselves. A kilt doesn't make some Scottish, but that person may want to act Scottish, so the image jusitifies doing whatever it is the wearer thinks Scottish people do that is awesome.

So we characterize people based on their clothing because we assume that they interpret their clothes the same way we do. When I wear a kilt, people assume that I'm going to drink, headbutt soccer officials and shag some sheep. In reality, I'm just going to drink, but no more than usual, and I could care less about soccer. I don't plan to shag any sheep, but who knows where the night will lead? (For the sake of the public and sheep, hopefully not to a farm.)

By replacing the kilt with baggy pants, people assume I'm going to earn a lower GPA, kill whitey and degrade a few women as "hos." They have no idea that I'm wearing baggy pants because my elephantitis is inflamed again. Instead, they assign the uniform of baggy pants to the thug, that black hip-hop monster that will achieve nothing more than rhyming in rhythm.

What's their solution? Send me to The Gap for some well-fit khakis, which will not help my swollen testicles. But dressing me up won't improve my grammar, ethnicity or class (in both senses of the word).

But I'm less threatening in khakis (unless my testicles grow larger from chafing), so the problem can be ignored. I'm not an example of "what's wrong with America" anymore, but instead look like the people who don't have said problem. Bill O'Reilly can excitedly compliment me because I didn't mug or rap at him.

The other basis to the dress code idea is that it will save me some grief because everyone is wearing the same clothes as me; therefore, they can't decide whether I should be beaten up or not.

As I wore a uniform for three years of Catholic school, allow me to rebut.

People don't get beaten up for the clothes they wear; they get beaten up because there are assholes who like to beat people up. Assholes will find any reason to kick your ass: your clothes, your stupid face, telling them that you'd like to (lovingly) sodomize their sister, disgraceful taste in wine, poor hygiene, the way you walk, your speech impediment and etc.

In fact, I've had offers to rearrange my face my entire life whether I was dressed in a uniform or at the height or most modest standard of fashion. Come to think of it, the only time I haven't been threatened was when I was naked, but that's because the guys that would beat me up were too nervous about looking gay by talking to or laying hands on a naked guy.

Even if everyone is dressed the same or--as the proponents call it--appropriately, we always find something to dislike about a person.

In Catholic school, we had to wear predominantly white sneakers, so we made fun of the kid in the dorkiest white shoes. Woe be to the boy who wore Keds or similar nurse-centered attire. We also had a choice between khaki pants or shorts, but, since this was in Hawaii, only losers wore the pants. And, of course, we could still judge a kid by his face, hair, athletic ability, race, nerdish qualities and whether or not he took Communion at Mass. And since we were mostly military brats, there was the inevitable division of officers' and enlisteds' kids.

That's why it is important to not forget the dual-purpose of uniforms: yes, they make everyone more or less the same; but, they also assign rank to that person. This is why we dress prisoners and servants in such a manner--to remind them, and us, of their place. Nobody cares if white CEOs wear relaxed-fit Levis, but it's an "epidemic" when young people, who frighten us, do. In fact, when guys like Richard Branson do it, they're "rogues" or "colorful."

We're fascinated by simple solutions to life's complex problems. After 9/11, e-mail messages floated around about General Pershing vanquishing Islam in the Philippines in the early 20th century by burying killed Muslims with pig corpses, which ignores the ongoing clashes with Islam in the Philippines today. Or that by buying everyone in the world a Coke, the world would "stop and chill a while." Or, my favorite, that by groggily pledging allegiance to a flag every morning, people will become better citizens.

Dress codes follow the same vein of thought. They don't really solve the bigger problem, nor do they help the person with the problem. Instead, they dress up the person in question so we don't notice them anymore or are less threatened by them. And the sad part is that it doesn't work. Ask all the pre-Civil Rights blacks that were lynched in the South despite straightening their hair and wearing ties.

Perpendicular to Vioxx Avenue

Surprisingly enough, not everyone loves Viagra: the Dutch town of Breda recently renamed a street after some dirty-minded residents complained that its name bore a more than passing resemblance to the name of the famed anti-impotence drug. St. Fiacrius Court sounds just fine to this blogger, but apparently some folks would prefer to live on Hofhage. Personally, that sounds even dirtier, though only because neither street really sounds like anything, to tell the truth. Maybe I'm missing a vowel that I need to properly pronounce? Someone help me out here.

Sad day for law enforcement

Police in Brussels can't be happy about the latest memo from their superiors. In an attempt to get more respect from the public, the police are no longer allowed to visit brothels or drink at bars while they are on duty. Yes, we said "duty."

Key quote: "'It is only by setting a good example that the police can make itself respected,' the letter said, urging officers to adopt more conservative behavior."

This blog does not understand that statement. What is not respectable about those charged with protecting the public enjoying the company of a woman or a warmth of a drink while on the job? Do they have something better to be doing, like patrolling?

Things not to do in Australia

-Swim with Box Jellyfish.

-Go searching for Taipans.

-Try to pick up the language of the locals.

-Attempt to correctly use a boomerang.

-Malign rugby.

-Show off the number of teeth that you have to the locals in comparison to them.

-Crush beer cans between your breasts while at the bar.

The presidency is ... awesome?

While touring a weapons plant, John McCain said that, if elected president, he will personally shoot Osama Bin Laden.

Wait, presidents get to shoot people? And here we thought that was only vice-presidents.

We put this question to you, readers: should presidents submit to a five day background check before taking office, or do we continue to let the gunshows elect them?

Happy United Nations Day!

That's right, folks. The first of the big holidays is finally here. It's time to celebrate the 62nd anniversary of the founding of the U.N. Yes, on this day in 1945, the U.N was founded as a way for countries to better communicate with each other. Clearly, it worked, since there have been no wars since then.

So get ready to celebrate the traditional U.N. Day way: gather with your friends friends of different race or country around the U.N. Day tree, sing the traditional U.N. Day carols and exchange gifts. Once you and are done with those festivities, it's time to sit down and draft sanctions against people you don't like very much. Be sure to vote on the non-binding resolutions condemning their actions!

Eat My Sports: That guy

Nearly everyone has a sport they enjoy to watch. Nearly everyone has a team in said sport that they call theirs. They support them through bad draft decisions and trade moves, kudos to you, you're a fan.

Then there is that guy. The obnoxious one that somehow finds himself drinking at the very place you went to go eat or have a drink after work. But this particular specimen doesn't sit down and enjoy the game. No. He makes it painfully obvious to everyone in the bar that yes, he is a fan of a team that is playing, and whether you want to or not, you're going to hear about it.

So, in order to avoid being that guy. Here is my fool proof guide to being a fan. Or as we here call it, The Seriously Guide.

Clothing:

We get it, you're a fan. You're the guy that wears the obscure jersey of a player who most people don't know, but for some reason fans of your team think he's God. Thank you Steelers' era Antwan Randle El. It's cool to have a jersey, but if no one knows who that is, it just makes you look even more ridiculous. Like those Chicago Bulls fans that wore Toni Kukoc jerseys when Jordan, Pippen and Rodman were playing.

If you are going to wear a jersey, jeans and loose CARGO pants are acceptable. Khakis just make you look like a raging idiot, also, this probably makes you the guy at the bar that orders iced tea and gets odd looks from everyone in the establishment that is having a beer or whiskey.

Most importantly, if you reeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllly are a sports fan, then don't wear loafers with the whole jersey look. Nothing screams "I'm gonna go home and watch reruns of Matlock and MacGyver, but gooooooooooooo team!!!!!" quite like donning shoes that private school kids wear because their parents force them to.

Drinking:

For those of you not in AA, it is perfectly understandable to have a few drinks (if it's not a day baseball game on a Wednesday) while your team is playing. This is allowed and quite frankly encouraged. Just for example, no Red Sox fan could probably have endured the 2004 or 2007 playoffs without a drink or two. Side Note: AL Champs!!!

If you do go out to a bar and you are not with friends, ordering a pitcher is not allowed. Nothing looks more ridiculous than a guy alone at the end of a bar drinking a pitcher, wearing a shirt with a last name that isn't his on the back of it, screaming obscenities at the television like it had just informed him that he'd been laid off from work. You have a single beer or mixed drink at a time. Otherwise you look like a severe lush who has a terrible case of Tourette's.

If at home, home rules apply. I do not enforce anything on anyone's private property. But if going out in public, I am the enforcer.

Public Behavior:

If you are the only fan of a team at a bar you are at alone, no screaming at the TV. This changes when there are two of you. Remember kids, safety in numbers.

Don't hit on anyone in the place. It's obvious, you are there to give your support. But if you start losing or winning, don't get wasted and start hitting on the patrons or bartenders. Chances are they give about as much of a crap about you or the game as Vanessa Hudgens cared about internet safety.

Screaming "Yeah, baby!!!" is only cool if you are Austin Powers. At no point is it OK to annoy everyone by screaming like a banshee because Maurice Jones-Drew ran for two yards.

So remember guys, it's OK to be a fan. It's not OK to be a moron.

Top Five things that annoy me in sports this week:

5. ESPN's football crew. Honestly Chris Berman is the only saving grace. Emmitt Smith just looks out of place and they need to just give Keyshawn Johnson the damn pink slip.

4. Pre-season basketball. The precursor to eight months of a sport that was mildly entertaining maybe a decade ago.

3. The New England Patriots. Seriously, lose already. I have had enough of Tom Brady.

2. Joe Torre. You would have thought a U.S. President was stepping down with the way that was covered. I can't wait for the Yankees to go into a rebuilding phase, and I'll tell you what they can do with those 26 championships they like to bring up ....

1. "The Rock" football movies. When did America OK this? Every time I turn around it's another football movie with "The Rock." You were awful in pretty much every Mummy movie you were in, and guess what? It hasn't gotten any better.

Alcohol: the cause of, solution to all of life's [animal-related] problems

Taking a page from American history, an Indian village (in India, not Ironyland) let rice wine do their dirty work on a herd of Asiatic elephants.

After drinking themselves into a stupor, the elephants reenacted a World Series celebration by knocking down a utility pole. Six died in the ensuing electrocution.

This approach is one of the most innovative in the global War on Animals for three reasons:

1) Circus animal trainers have proven that electricity is the natural foe of the elephant.

2) By getting the elephants drunk, they have prevented these elephants' legendary memory from remembering and learning from this event. In other words, it could work again!

3) Because the elephants drank the rice wine of their own accord, this village has a new ally in their War on Animals: MADD. That's a lot of pamphlets, people.

(Courtesy of Patrick S.)

'Til impending death do us part

Looking for love? You might want to head to China. After all, what color is a heart? Red, the same color as the Chinese flag. Still getting over that girl you said was one in a million? Guess what? A million really isn't that much in China.

Take these two lovebirds, for example: a 106-year-old man and an 81-year-old woman just got married, in what is destined to be the shortest marriage since Rodman-Electra. Let's all hope these two crazy kids make it. If not, can there really be any hope for the rest of us? Just try not to think about their honeymoon activities.

Panda watch: 2007!

Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a hoax, though this could be cause for alarm. One of the strapping young youths of China bravely jumped into a panda cage, only to have that soulless beast bite him! They're not cute and cuddly creatures, people.

Bears = Godless Killing Machines.

THERE ARE NO EXCEPTIONS. ESPECIALLY WITH THOSE FROM THE RACCOON FAMILY.

It's time to take the war to them. We almost had the pandas where we wanted wanted them, but then the governments stepped in with their "endangered species acts". Finish the job.

Keep your boardgames in the family room

What's the best way to use the impressive graphics resources of the Xbox 360? Why, with arcade and card games from the 1980s.

Key quote: The content deal came as Microsoft also unveiled a new version of the Xbox 360, dubbed Arcade, priced at $279 and bundled with five games, including "Pac-Man Championship Edition," "Uno" and "Feeding Frenzy."

Yeah, digital Uno's worth $55.80. Thanks, Microsoft.

Fortunately, the controllers are still too complicated for chickens to beat us at checkers on the reimagined Xbox Live.

Giving the customers more than they asked for

Tourists enjoying the scenery on St. Maarten ended up coming home with a little bit more than just sunburns and souvenirs. They also may have come home with tuberculosis.

Yes, health officials have sent out word that people who came in contact with a certain stripper should be checked out after the stripper tested positive for TB, also known as consumption.

This proves once again that everything is sexier in the Caribbean, even a woman dancing around while coughing up a strange, greenish-yellow substance. Oh, mama!

(Courtesy of Rachel U.)

Is teen sex the new cigarette?

The Guys have been mostly silent about female teachers having sex with their students, save for the occasional punchline. Really, there's not much more to say about sexual abuse save that it's illegal.

... Or is there?

The New York Times article quotes Richard Gartner, "a New York psychologist and author of 'Beyond Betrayal: Taking Charge of Your Life After Boyhood Sexual Abuse'":

Recognition of the damage doesn't usually occur until the man is in his 30s, 40s or later, he said. That damage varies widely, depending on the victim's age, the abuse itself, the sexual orientation of the boy and of the abuser, Gartner said. Victims often report addictive behavior and compulsive disorders, from gambling to sex to substance abuse, he said [emphasis ours].

All respect to the victims and the good doctor, but aren't those symptoms of any male who may or may not have sex at any age?

For those suffering from a lack of iron

Anyone else pissed about Robert Downey Jr. getting the role of Iron Man? Apparently this guy is. Luis Miguel Adana donned an iron mask and sewed his mouth shut in a form of protest to get the Columbian government to provide a loan to start his own business.

He speaks out of the corner of his mouth, and spends his days laying in bed bound by shackles and chains. Yes, protest for the money to support your family by laying in bed all tied up, well it did work for Jenna Jameson .... (the link is safe)

Key Quote: "Instead of paying two months of rent, Aldana says he bought shoes for his three children." (That's either cheap rent or Air Jordans made of gold.)

It could happen here

The week's news in the War on Animals begins on a note nothing short of shocking. In a Wizard of Oz-style attack, the Deputy Mayor of New Delhi was killed after being attacked by a pack of wild monkeys. Seriously.

According to reports, a gang of Rhesus macaques attacked the man at his own home. They eventually pushed him out the window, killing him. Folks, this blog doesn't need to tell you the danger we humans face against the animal threat, but this assassination represents a new level in violence in this terrible, terrible war.

Shocking quote: "Many government buildings, temples and residential neighborhoods in New Delhi are overrun by Rhesus macaques, which scare passers-by and occasionally bite or snatch food from unsuspecting visitors."

We need to rescue the citizens of New Delhi from these monkey terrorists.

You scratch my back, I'll drink your beer

A New Zealand brewery is offering a lifetime supply of beer to whoever manages to narc out the individual or cunning group of individuals that stole one of their laptops. Perhaps they should maybe look a little inwards for their suspects? I mean, let's be honest here-when you work in a brewery, drinking on the job gets a whole new look to it. Get out there and start searching, super sleuthes!

Bill Maher, FTW

Good morning, SeriouslyGuys and Gals! We've learned something this weekend: Bill Maher will kick your patootie in the same sense that Jerry Springer kicks patooties, and that's by telling security to do it. (Fair warning: the second link contains audio of NSFW language.)

So if you're planning to protest a television show, here's some criteria to consider first:

1) Does anyone watch the show when it's not on YouTube? No? Then find a more popular show for your full 15 minutes.

2) Does the host berate his or her guests? If so, you're next.

3) Are you protesting in favor of a cause that makes you officially less credible than the tobacco industry's assessment of cancer risks? If so, then you'll probably get maced when off-camera, too. (I mean, really. At least Big Tobacco spreads lies for profit, stupidity aside.)

With this quick checklist, you, too, should fare better next time you want to interupt American television.

The McBournie Minute: Moving

Forgive me if I seem a little beat this morning, last night I was up watching Your American League Champions, the Boston Red Sox.

There comes a time in everyone's lives when it's time for a drastic change. In such a time, one calls on their friends, preferably the burly, male ones, for assistance. The true friends will answer the call and help however they can. The change I am speaking of, of course, is moving.

When one moves to a new place, they realize how much crap they really own. The next realization is that they do not have nearly enough boxes to hold all of the crap. Luckily, this does not affect the friends, who are there primarily to move the big stuff like furniture. This past weekend I was such a friend. Why? Because I am a good friend, and I was offered payment in the form of alcohol.

I also realized that I am probably the only person who gets nostalgic about moving. In the past it has taken me much longer than it should to pack things up because I get nostalgic about the place I am leaving. You could move me out of a prison cell, and I would be in there, slowly removing my effects from the shelf, thinking, "Oh, how I will miss my roommate, Bubba."

Moving is more or less the conscription of your friends into service. I was charged with helping bring a new couch up to my friend's new place, only to find out the elevator wasn't big enough, and the stairwell barely was. We grappled with couch up the stairs, occasionally getting tossed against the walls and getting cuts and bruises all over. We got the couch up the stairs finally, but more importantly, I got free booze.

MasterChugs Theater: 'Uzumaki'

Uzumaki convincingly introduces you to a world undergoing such a change in fundamental rules. We watch as the bodies and minds of its occupants undergo eye-opening changes and as the natural world literally changes into what it was not. The world of Uzumaki is indeed a world within a psychadelic nightmare. Run as fast and as far as you may, for every path you take, every corner you round, every horizon you reach will produce ever-greater mind-boggling transformations.

Where does this mind screwing begin with? The inhabitants of Kurouzu-cho appear to all lead very normal lives. You’ve got the young couple Shuichi and Kirie, along with there respective families that all seem very functional. Things change though, when this peace is shattered by a sudden and mysterious obsession with spirals! It starts with Kirie’s dad, as he photographs snails and collects spiral pottery, but eventually the curse runs rampant and there’s no turning back! Death lies around every corner, and this movie takes paranoia and insanity to a whole new level.

The movie shines visually, and you will never see anything like it. It’s filled to the brim with berserk close-ups and great lighting. The whole movie is just plain unsettling. Even in the rainbow bright scenes from the start, you know something ain’t right. Best of all, this movie has so many hidden things going on visually that alone merit repeat viewings. Hidden spirals and corpses in the background give you good incentive to rewind. If forced to, I’d compare the movie’s visuals to a bucket of vomit doused on a huge mound of rotting corpses. For clarification purposes, that's a good thing. Special effects are pulled off in a smooth way. A bit of computer animation was used for big things, like spiraling emissions from the smokestack of recent cremations.

If I have any complaints whatsoever with this movie, it would only lie in a couple scenes that could stand to be cut. I know we all like some good solid character development, but one of the few scenes that tries to accomplish this comes off as forced and ultimately boring. No need to name scenes, because you’ll probably know when you get there. While some may complain about the ending, Higuchinsky (the single named director) knew there was only ONE solid way to end mayhem like that ... and oh, how it's solid. From the very first scenes of the movie, you can recognize the quality of imagery and creative visuals. The sense of visual satisfaction only increases as the story continues, and as the manifestations of vortex became more and more bizarre, more and more terrifying, you will get freaked out by this movie. This truly is a psychadelic nightmare drawn in comic book proportions which will leave you wondering if in fact your arms might not someday wobble spaghetti-like toward the floor. Highly recommended.

If you can't find a copy of this (which is a strong possibility), go out tonight and watch 30 Days of Night. The original story is brilliant, and with Sam Raimi attached to the movie, so should the film be.

There's protestin' goin' ons afoot!

Protests involving women without clothing continue to pervade everywhere but the United States. Sometimes, they even involve historic figures ... or at least their neo-contemporary equivalents. Remember the story of Lady Godiva and how she rode a horse naked to protest something that probably wasn't that interesting? Add a couple of pasties and replace the horse with a Rascal scooter and the exact same thing happened in England on Wednesday. None of us here at SG know what the lady was upset about, but it still gets good press, I suppose.

Limey bastards

The Guys are known the world over, so we try to keep a fair opinion about all countries and nationalities. Still, there are always exceptions. But when people think of Europe, they normally imagine they all get along pretty well these days. They stopped bombing each other and even managed to form some kind of a union.

However, that is not true. A recent think tank shows Europeans in general like each other now that they have more interaction with each other, but they still don't like the English. We Americans can understand that.

Ask Dr. Snee, Guynecologist: When medicine doesn't work

Since last session's steroidfest, I've started receiving questions that relate to the practice of medicine. There are a lot of factors that play into a successful treatment, so it's important to examine these when the ordinary procedure goes extraordinarily wrong.

A New Zealand man had back surgery and seemed to be missing his false teeth. The surgeons had no idea where they were. Then they found them in the back of the man's throat. If you're having back surgery, aren't you lying on your stomach? [Shouldn't] the forces of gravity should prevent teeth from traveling upward into your throat?

There are multiple definitions of gravity. The one you're refering to is the physics law that was coined by the layabout Isaac Newton, and then modified by Albert Einstein. Any geek knows that gravity doesn't pull, though; it sucks.

This is where the other definition of gravity comes from: the dramatic level of suckiness in any given situation. In this case, the guy was getting back surgery, which already sucks. But he also lost his teeth or wore dentures, which really sucks. And whatever led up to losing his teeth and screwing up his back really sucked. Therefore, the drama of his situation was a black hole of sheer suckitude, drawing his teeth into his throat, generating more gravity to this medical procedure.

As you can see, nothing sucks more than gravity.

Dr. Snee, what's the deal with the massive amounts of staph infections rising up and killing people just 30 minutes from where I currently reside?

These staph infections are probably caused by obesity, smoking, cell phones, stress and terrori--

Oh, who am I kidding here? Those are the answers we doctors give whenever we can't cure something.

The truth is that God is a vainglorious son of a whore. It wasn't enough to stump doctors with the common cold, the flu, AIDS and cancer. Now the bastard has made bacteria resistant to antibiotics.

I'm through with you, you creator of plagues! I'm just a man! Why must you piss all over my life's work? Why?! You don't deserve my donations to the collection plate every Sunday!

Why, you supernatural boogedy man?! Don't you know how much time and money I didn't put into medical school? Why? Why? WHY?!?!

Screw you, God! Screw you and your trickster ways!

GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHD!!!

Rick Snee is not, in any way, a licensed medical professional or an actor that plays one on television. He's just really opinionated, which is good enough for blogging. To submit your own questions to Dr. Snee, Guynecologist, post comments below or email the good doctor.

Giant Robot Kills 9, Injures 14 More

The revolution begins. I warned people. When I cried out in college that the Constructicons were crafting a building right beside my apartment, no one believed me. Well, guess what, everyone? The Combaticons are here!

From AAA to AA

We've all been here: out in the middle of nowhere, trying to change a tire, in need of some assistance and drunk off your keister. When that happens, it's nice to know you can call someone for help.

However, you may want to avoid mixing up the numbers and calling the cops instead. An Austrian man found out the hard way they don't look so kindly to such behavior for some reason.

How To: Enjoy a scary movie

You normally can't handle yourself at scary movies. That's why you avoid them, especially after the incident with the popcorn in the movie theater. How were you to know the butter was scalding hot, or that face would pop out of nowhere, causing you to fling the bucket into the air and douse 14 people. And how were you to know the butter would not harm a person, but just somehow one kernel would travel down a man's throat killing him, probably permanently? (Weird how we knew that story about you, huh?)

Fear not, we're going to take the fear out of scary movies, so you won't scream like a little girl at every jump, even if you are a little girl who is too young to be watching such cinema, even if it is nearly Halloween.

Tools:
Eyelids
Imagination
Negative view of humanity

1) Close your eyes. Think about it. You're in a dark room with a bunch of people not looking at you. If you just listen to the whole movie, who will know the difference? After all, no one gets scared listening to the radio, that is unless they're listening to Rush Limbaugh.

2) Find the trends. You've seen Scream, or at least you tried to. They reveal pretty much all of the secrets scary movies use. For example, if there is a multi-racial cast, it is required by federal law that at least one if not all black people are killed off before anyone else. Also try to avoid growing attached to characters in love with each other, they will die. Do you know why? Because love will get you killed one day.

3) Chill out. Quit getting so into the movie for Pablo's sake! Get distracted every now and then. Try to remember if you turned the oven off before you left the house. Wonder how wide the screen is in centimeters. Make the occasional comment about how lame the dialog is. The bottom line is you need to forget about the knife-wielding maniac looming just over your shoulder. He is most likely harmless, anyway.

4) Become really cynical. This works best at zombie movies. Why? Because the world is ending, it's just a big scramble to see who will die last. The characters are convinced they can be live and find someplace safe, despite that fact that there are undead popping out, showing off their most recent dental work and indicating they are quiet hungry and not picky eaters. The characters band together to try to survive, but at some point, they all die. In such cases, it's fun to take yourself out of connecting with the characters, and instead laughing at humanity in general. Witness people at their most primal and marvel at how they find ways to get offed. Feel free to root for the zombies. This principal can be applied, with more effort, to other scary movies, just replace zombies with the murderer. The group dynamics are not all that different.

There you have it. There is no way you can be phased by the creepiest of creepies. So sit back and laugh at your friends as they jump and squeal. I'll be right back.

Oh my god, did I really just say that? I'm going to die.

Raise a (martini) glass

A moment of silence, everyone. Joey Bishop, the last surviving member of the Rat Pack, died today at the age of 89. The Guys salute Bishop and his cohorts, now performing on that big stage in the sky.

Key quote: "'Are we remembered as being drunk and chasing broads?' he asked. 'I never saw Frank, Dean, Sammy or Peter drunk during performances. That was only a gag. And do you believe these guys had to chase broads? They had to chase 'em away.'"

Employees must wash their hands before returning to work

Speaking of porn (I'd make that a link, but seriously, when aren't we talking about it?), the front page of USA Today saw this threat as above-the-fold-worthy:

"Technology makes porn easier to access at work"

Remember, when there's nothing to report, then stick to the topics that will keep readers coming. That's the USA Today Way!

It won't flush!

No one likes lifting the toilet lid and finding an unexpected surprise. Nothing good can be found in a toilet bowl (SG life lesson #489). One woman in Brooklyn found this out firsthand one morning.

The woman was washing her hands in her apartment when she noticed something in the toilet. What she saw was far worse than a floater, it was a seven-foot long python. Somehow, the snake made it up to her third-story apartment and decided to hang out in the bathroom.

The snake is currently being "detained" for questioning. Our readers are reminded to be prepared at all times, because the War on Animals could come for you.

It's a dad-blamed conspiracy, I tells ya

Even though they have explicit policies stating otherwise, the Southern Baptist Convention and the United States Catholic Conference of Bishops have millions of dollars invested in companies that make porn. So that's where that $12 billion in revenue went!

Well, here's a handy tip for the SBC and USCCB to invest in now that their secret is out-it's called "ChugCo." ... and it'll change their life. Ask me how after paying a nominal non-refundable fee!

Clothes and reading laws

They're just two things that citizens in Oregon don't seem to have the time to deal with. Just because the city council passes a new law specifically to keep one man from taking his clothes off while working in his yard, that doesn't mean that man is going to start obeying it ... apparently enough, though we're sure he appreciates all the special attention.

Perhaps a rider regarding literacy competency for all citizens of Oregon should be attached to the new law as well.

Not what they bargained for

It's a plot twist worthy of the writers of television crime dramas. An exotic dancer, a robbery and death after what looks like a deal gone bad.

The stripper was at a private home for a job, but police now think she set up her customers and planned to rob them. During the attempted robbery, one of the men had his own gun and the stripper shot the man in self defense.

Take it from Snee: 'Nice guys' deserve to finish last

Ah, yes: the heartfelt nice guy who wants you to know how much he cares about you by ubiquitously clinging onto you and telling you what's wrong with your boyfriend.
Every four months or so--basically the beginning of every semster/summer break--I get the same piece of anonymous hogwash titled "To All the Nice Guys" or some other variant. It's always the same story about a guy who keeps getting passed up by the girl of his dreams for some ambiguously evil "asshole."

The chief complaint, as if you've never read it, is that the nice guy puts in all the time: purse-watching, clothes-advising, hand-wringing and providing a shoulder to cry on. Meanwhile, the asshole, who is presumably responsible for said crying, gets to put his hand under her shirt. It's not fair! the story whines, so it begs the women of the world to quit dating the "asshole" and date the "nice guy" that wrote this.

Let's examine the roles of the nice guy and the asshole.

The asshole is the villain in this letter. He's presumed to be a jock, has perfect teeth and can "get any girl he wants," so he presumably will use that ability to cheat on the nice guy's stalkee. Do you see what I see? That's right: it's a stereotype.

The asshole isn't anyone in particular, has committed no particular crime against the woman or nice guy and simply fills the nice guy's role of "not me." This stereotype, like all stereotypes, is more damning of the speaker than the target. Therefore, if you are in a relationship, chances are very good that you (yes, you) are an asshole to someone else. You don't even have to cheat on the woman.

Granted, some assholes are actual assholes. These are typically the guys that act one way to bed a woman, and then transform into an phoneless leacher once the sex gets stale. So, although the writer of this letter is resorting to a stereotype, there could be an actual asshole he fails to mention. However, the letter is black-and-white in this regard: you are either a nice guy or an asshole.

The nice guy in this letter is the token (not-gay) male friend. He's that guy who's always hanging out with your girlfriend, buying her Christmas presents on par with/better than yours, taking her out for meals and prying secrets out of her whenever you're not around. Every time your relationship gets rocky, he's the one advising her that she "deserves better" (read: him). And why does he dote on her and pretend to be her friend? To get her in the sack.

I know, you're thinking, "But he's the nice guy. He wants a relationship."

The nice guy's complaint is that he already has the relationship, but no sex. If he was such the understanding friend, he'd realize this woman has no sexual interest in him and maintaining a relationship with such expectations is deceitful. So, by putting on an act to get sex from a girl that's in a relationship with someone else ... Sweet Ringo Starr, the nice guy is actually an asshole!

Now if you noticed a striking similarity between this and every emo song ever written, you've won yourself a cigar.

Whether it's a song by Fall Out Boy, Good Charlotte or Dashboard Confessional, it is the anthem of the duplicitous "nice guy." The protaganist is that guy who is "trapped in the unbearble sadness" of not having the woman of his dreams. He may have even had a one night stand with the woman, making him "a notch in her bedpost," but she stayed with her asshole (a.k.a. boyfriend). So what does he do? He whines to anyone who will listen that he's not getting his due; in other words, he's bragging in the locker room like an asshole.

But who's really at blame in this typical tale? The nice guy blames the asshole and maybe the woman. But if he was really a nice guy, wouldn't he have told her no?

There's an old concept that "nice guys," as emo songs and this letter describe them, always ignore: minding their own business. There's nothing wrong with being friends with a woman in a relationship, but by actively participating in the sabotage of her relationship, he's butting into a situation that will never work out for him.

With the voluntary androgyny of emo-ness, there's a pitfall: self-imposed emascualtion. The nice guy in these songs is frustrated by the very role he's adopted: the token gay friend. In fact, the woman in question might not even notice him because he's working his way in from the inside as an infiltrator.

If he wants to be an androgynous nice person, there's a better role model: Emily Dickinson. The emo kid is already on his way there by staying home, writing a lot of poetry and waiting to die alone because "nobody understands him." But nobody wants to really be Emily Dickinson (not even Ms. Dickinson, according to her poetry), so it's obvious that this is all an act--a ploy for your undue sympathy.

Let's just say, for the sake of covering all bases, that the nice guy is, in fact, better for this woman than the asshole. Now let's look at the letter and emo songs.

If you're trying to gain the affections of a woman, would you tell her how stupid she is? Both do so in this case, explaining she's stupid for not dating him.

How about telling her that she's marginally evil for "playing with your emotions" by being your friend? I'm sure that women love it when you devalue their friendship.

And do you think you'll really convince her that you're on her side by calling the man that she might very well love an asshole? Any man who's tried to tell a woman how to feel will line up to slug you just for being an idiot. Seriously, if she loves the guy, she's going to defend him and you've made the situation even more untenable.

So if you're sitting at home, IMing a woman to tell her about your latest song or livejournal entry, hoping she'll figure out that it's about her and leave her "asshole" of a boyfriend, I got news for you: you deserve to be alone. Give yourself a few more cuts so you can cry about your self-imposed shortcomings, because you don't know a thing about being nice.

Or here's an idea: find a woman and tell her how you actually feel. If you can do so without getting maced, you might actually be a nice guy.

Putting the 'DUI' in 'stupid'

Everyone knows that the best way to appeal your DUI is to kill a 12 pack of beer on the lawns by the courthouse.

Pissing the night away

Baylor's offensive line-tight ends coach Eric Schnupp was issued a citation for urinating on a bar in Waco, Texas. Schnupp apparently thought no one was looking as his urine ran a deep post patter to the bar. Now, perhaps he was trying to erase the 58-10 drubbing that Kansas laid on the Bears on Saturday, or perhaps Schnupp just wanted to make a flow chart for the coaches at THE LARGEST BAPTIST UNIVERSITY IN THE WORLD.

Key quote: "Severe said Schnupp had taken several shots of hard liquor, most bought for him by other people."

Side note: If you're a coach at a major university, shouldn't you be buying the shots? Maybe I'm just old fashioned.

Aggressive ... nudity?

As if getting to work in the morning wasn't difficult enough, it gets a lot more annoying when a naked man decides to block traffic in the middle of rush hour ... hypothetically speaking, and all. Nudity or no nudity, it takes a lot of balls to mess with angry commuters. That streaker should be glad it happened in a place anywhere other than New York City.

Have you had your ARRRRRR today?

Pirate attacks may be up and all, but there's just one problem--these guys just lack the dramatic flair for the job. I mean, sure, they've got the STD, skin conditions, and lack of teeth stuff down to a fine art, but the language? It's just not there.

That's why I say to all our readers out there, fight global warming and show these "pirates" how real pirates act! ARRRRRRRR!

It's official: genetics is the new phrenology

James Watson, who won a Nobel prize for helping decode DNA, has successfully staved off any further grants by lecturing that Africans are doomed by genetics to be stupid.

Watson based this on this observation: "People who have to deal with black employees find this[, the fact that their intelligence is the same as ours,] is not true."

The Guys couldn't be there, but we're pretty sure he went on to say, "I mean, am I right, white people? Whoop whoop!" He then made the international sign to raise the roof of the Science Museum in London.

We'd like to thank Watson for reminding us that a little science in the wrong hands can be a very dangerous thing.

What a buzz kill

You may have noticed that there's been a lull in animal attacks and attacks on animals. This blog does not believe this indicates any kind of truce. Instead, it probably just means our forces are doing something covert. Just because we don't always hear about it, doesn't mean the War on Animals has slowed.

In Arizona, an estimated 100,000 bees attacked four children and two adults for seemingly no reason. The six people were stung several times but were not seriously hurt. Firefighters smothered the bees with water and foam.

Despite the fact that this sounds a lot like a rave, this blog salutes the brave firefighters who fought back to protect those innocent people.

Eat My Sports: A London Super Bowl, seriously?

Bad move Roger Goodell, bad move.

After taking the initiative that no one wanted by having a regular season game hosted in London, Roger Goodell has taken the highest blasphemy to our sacred football americano. The NFL Commissioner has been thinking fondly of the idea of having a foreign city host the Super Bowl. Brilliant, why don't you move the Country Music Awards to Tokyo while you're at it? Or, move the Statue of Liberty back to France.

The Super Bowl is just something that is purely American. I don't get too patriotic that often, but the Super Bowl needs to stay in the States. When that glorious Sunday comes in early February, it is our duty to have a full supply of chips and beer, have our closest friends and family over, sit down for four glorious hours and watch commercials ... I mean, football.

Something about football across the pond just doesn't work. I mean just look at NFL Europe, there is a solid reason that experiment failed miserably. I'm looking at you Danny Wuerffel.

Would we want the Cricket championship held here? No. Why? Cause no one really gives a crap about that sport here other than people that moved over to the US from Britain. Nothing against the sport or those who love it. But the point is, it doesn't matter to us here. And that is exactly how majority of Europe has responded to the idea of American football in their home. In its final year of existence, NFL Europe averaged only 20,020 attendees per game. And that was with five of the six teams being based only in Germany. Now compare that with the crowd of 74,512 that Super Bowl XLI drew, you can see who cares about football, and who would rather spend their time kicking around a frankfurter.

My point is short and sweet this week. Don't take away our game. Would the Tour de France work in New York? No, for two reasons: a) Junkies would take the steroids or whatever the cyclists use before they even reached the concierge at their hotel and b) it's New York, not France. Keep our championship, and the commercials where they belong.

Top five things that annoy me in sports this week:

5. Kobe Bryant. You know what? This isn't just this week. This has been about every week I have heard a quote from him. Can we send him to London? Please?

4. Colorado Rockies. We get it, you make a great story. Just lose a little to make whatever series you play in at least watchable?

3. Dallas Cowboys. See what happens when you play real competition?

2. Tony Kornheiser. I have officially found someone that annoys me more than John Madden. Kornheiser's problem is he doesn't have a video game that makes me support him still having a job.

1. TBS. Thank God the NL playoffs are over and I don't have to listen to them anymore. You're off the hook next week. But only because you're not broadcasting baseball anymore.

Artists: They walk among us

When they're not picking out paints and brushes while wearing berets, artsy-fartsy types around the world are causing problems for us normal people.

For example, a man was charged in Rhode Island recently for living in an apartment made in a mall parking garage. Apparently, he and several other artists would trade off living in the apartment for weeks at a time. That is the very definition of a sleeper cell.

Remember when that Swedish newspaper ran a political cartoon about Mohammed and pretty much every single Muslim in the world got mad at the U.S. for it? Well, get ready for some more riots, everyone, Lars Vilks is at it again. Why is he drawing Mohammed when it causes so much strife across the world? Artistic expression.

Folks, there are people like Vilks living everywhere. One might even be your neighbor, so be careful out there.

WoW, that's a lot of wild pigs!

Attention, MMORPG gamers: this is your chance to do something worthwhile.

Westfall (a.k.a. Australia) needs your help!

The outback is plagued by an out of control feral pig population. We'd do it ourselves, but we're in America and don't speak Australian. (We barely passed it in high school.)

Perhaps you could do your part in the open hunting spree. The wild pigs are diseased, so don't eat the remains or feed them to your pets. Hunters, we're looking in your direction.

The Australian Outback is due southwest of Hawaii, between New Zealand, Antartica and Papua/New Guinea. If you don't feel like swimming, you can catch the boat at Pearl Harbor.

Objectives:

Kill 200 diseased feral pigs.

Rewards:

1 gold 25 silver

Choose one:

[Spotted boar-hide cloak]
[Boar-mauler gauntlets]