Let them Ute cake

Damn y’all heard of this meal called lunch?  Back in my day kids used to eat that shit on the daily, but turns out that the compassionate conservatives in Utah have figured out a way to streamline the nutrition delivery system so that poor kids don’t have to eat lunch anymore!  It’s pretty awesome.  If your parents haven’t fully kept up their payments to your school lunch account, then you get to have your slop ladled onto your lunchtray, followed by a moment or so of anticipatory salivation, only to have the tray suddenly snatched out of your hands and thrown into the trash.  I’m not sure if the whole routine is punctuated by a school official pointing and loudly taunting the child, you know, something along the lines of “OH DAMN S.N.A.P. (is how your parents should have paid for your lunch)!” or “YOU JUST (didn’t) GOT SERVED SON” but if not then they should get on that post-haste.  Starving little kids is a good start to raising the next generation to be compliant wage slaves, but having them get used to being mercilessly bullied by authority figures will greatly help accelerate the process.  

Tom Perkins tried to warn people about the impending anti-rich people Cristalnacht but nobody answered the door.  Libruls led by Maobama have already made rich people wear Rolexes as an identifying marker (this generation’s version of the Star of David) so it’s only fair that to even the scales Utah starts some kind of Hitler Ute to make it easier to identify poor children.   

Siempre Coca-Cola

DAYUM y'all heard about this soft drink called Coca-Cola?!?!?!  Man their marketing people are geniuses.  Before Sunday hardly anyone had heard of Coke but now people can’t stop talking about it.  Some people were pissed off at Coke's Super Bowl commercial but really what were they expecting?  “Coca-Cola” is actually an Algonquin term meaning “universal health care” so it’s no surprise that they would make such a left-wing anti-American commercial.  And anyway the controversial commercial isn't even the most egregious example of Coca-Cola's multicultural ethos.  Did y’all know that there exists something called “Mexican Coke” and it’s not even made with high fructose corn syrup, the most American of sweeteners?  Instead it’s made with this thing called cane sugar whatever that is.  Sounds suspiciously like the dreaded “Uncle Sugar” that Mike Huckabee warned us about.  What's worse, shipments of this “Mexican Coke” have actually hopped the border and are unwittingly being bought by our impressionable American youth in grocery stores and bodegas all over this once great nation.  

Everyone threw a fit when Mayor Michael Bloomberg of New York City wanted to outlaw large sodas but as it turns out the proposed NYC soda ban was a surprisingly prescient opening salvo in the war against the anti-American globalist forces of Big Soda.  I owe you an apology, Mayor Bloomberg.  I used to think that it was every American’s God-given right to drink as much concentrated diabetes juice as his or her heart desired, but now I see that Americans’ soda intake must be strictly regulated lest they imbibe too frequently from the decadent, multicultural, morally depraved chalice of Big Soda.    

I think I speak for most Conservatives when I say THIS IS AMERCIA WE DON’T SPEAK NO FERN LANGAUGES HERE.  As Joe the Plumber said, America is supposed to be a melting pot.  That means when foreigners come here all the bizarre rituals and customs of their native lands are thrown into a boiling pot so they can be cooked down to a manageable size and subsumed by the dominant mainstream American culture, or what sociologists call the Widespread American Social Paradigm.  We'll call it "WASP" for short.  Immigrants to this great land should be encouraged to adopt the WASP way but of course we have to be patient with those who may have trouble adjusting.  Fortunately for these laggards, helpful Conservatives have set up charitable organizations to smooth the transition to the U.S.  One especially notable welcoming committee aimed at immigrant children is the American Representatives for Youth Assimilation and Naturalization.  They're currently working on some much-needed updates to the Statue of Liberty.  Are y'all familiar with Emma Lazarus' "The New Colossus", the poem engraved on the Statue of Liberty's pedestal?  We need a new new Colossus, because according to the old new one, here are the kind of people we're welcoming to America: "tired", "poor", "huddled masses", "wretched refuse", "homeless", "tempest-tost"... I mean, come on, what a downer!  I ask you, is that the kind of example you want America to set for the world?  I want to see a new-look Lady Liberty who can kick ass and take names, and if the name is too foreign sounding, to change said name into something sufficiently Anglo.   

THIS IS MURKA, OUR LAST NAMES HAVE VOWELS IN THEM!

The other day I was on the phone trying to get a prescription refilled when I heard the four words that every God-fearing American hopes they will never ever have to hear: "Para Espanol, oprima dos." A sharp twinge of terror raced down my spine and I immediately threw the phone down and stomped on it until only a pile of dust remained.  It was a terrifying experience that I'll never forget, basically the 9/11 of phone calls.  It was almost enough to make me call 911.  

The foreigners are destroying everything we used to love about this once great nation from INSIDE THE HOUSE.

That's why the founding fathers fought the Revolutionary War, so that their ancestors would be spared the ordeal of having to press an extra button.  I for one will never give up the fight until automated phone menus start catering to us Bible-believing conservative types.  

"For English, press 1.  For a barely literate Southerner attempting to speak English, press 2..."

Now you Tea Partiers might think you’re safe ditching the cola and just drinking iced tea, but check this out… you want proof that Coca-Cola is pro illegal immigration?  Until recently, Coca-Cola had a joint venture with Nestle to produce Nestea.  Hmmm, Nestea…Nestea… sounds kinda like… AMNESTY.  That can’t be a coincidence!  They were even audacious enough to call their energy drink "A.M. Nestea" and market it with the slogan "Wake up, America!" which thankfully replaced their initial slogan "Down with whitey".    

Mourning in America

One thing this controversy has taught me is that some Americans don't even deserve America.  We may live in the same country, but we certainly don't live in the same world.  I guess these old American xenophobes will die off relatively soon, so that's something to look forward to, but can you really ever kill a mindset?  Maybe fighting xenophobia is like fighting terrorism, they're both doomed to fail.  Whatever.  I did my part by writing a interminably long, rambling, snarky blogpost that no one will ever read.  

Armchairmageddon

Damn y’all heard of this thing called weather?  Here in the NOLA we're just now emerging from what was undoubtedly one of the worst weather events in recorded human history, a mini Ice Age that made Younger Dryas look like Fetal Dryas.  People were even giving it dramatic names like Sneauxmageddon (because people here don’t cotton to accurate spelling) or Snowah’s Ark or The Transfiguration of Iced or Weatherpocalypse or well you get the point.  I don’t understand why these weather events always have to be described in Biblical terms.  This isn’t the Bible Belt.  It’s more like if you undid the Bible Belt and maybe the top couple buttons on your linen pants, Louisiana is what would clumsily tumble out.  A moderately sized half chub accidentally unfurled in a drunken moment but thankfully the rest of the country pretends it didn't see anything and everyone can proceed as if nothing untoward happened. 

Anyway most people were safely ensconced in their weather bunkers but those who hadn’t planned ahead (myself included) had to brave 30 degree temperatures to secure adequate disaster provisions.  Before you scoff, let me remind you that’s 30 degrees Fahrenheit.  FAHRENHEIT, I SAY!!!  Rouses was a madhouse.  People were elbowing sweet old ladies clear off their Rascals just to get the last party pack of Abita.  I’m not proud of some of the things I had to do but all’s fair in love and slightly below freezing weather. 

Forgive me God for going Dikembe Mutumbo on this elderly woman. 

Blame Christie for me

Aw damn yo y’all heard of this dude Chris Crispie?  He’s the rotund governor of this place called New Jersey and the presumptive favorite to be the Republican presidential candidate in 2016.  Or at least he was the early favorite, until this Bridgegate scandal broke a few days ago.  When Chris Christie sits around the George Washington Bridge, he really sits AROUND the George Washington Bridge.  Also when he closes three lanes on the George Washington Bride because of a petty quarrel with a political enemy, he really closes three lanes on the George Washington Bridge because of a petty quarrel with a political enemy.  Mark Sokolich may be the mayor of Fort Lee but Chris Christie is the governor of portly.  OOH BURN.  Fat jokes are witty and mature which is why I am making a bunch of them.  With Chris Christie at the helm, even a unicycle is a high occupancy vehicle.  TRENTON ISN'T JUST THE CAPITAL OF NEW JERSEY, IT'S ALSO HOW MUCH CHRIS CHRISTIE WEIGHS.  WHAT I AM TRYING TO SAY IS THAT CHRIS CHRISTIE LIKELY HAS A BMI HIGHER THAN THAT OF THE AVERAGE HUMAN.

Bridgegate is the worst thing Christie's done since that time he worked with President Obama to help his constituents recover from Hurricane Sandy.  I say we should have just let the free market take care of things.  I mean, HELLO, if you can't deal with the destruction that inevitably comes along in the wake of a hurricane, THEN HOW ABOUT YOU DON'T LIVE IN NEW JERSEY, EINSTEIN???!!!? (no offense to actual Einstein, who did live in New Jersey for the latter part of his life).  This is just common sense, people.  You don't want to reward that kind of bad decision making.  But of course President Maobama and Comrade Christie had to go and give New Jerseyans a literal bail out.  Between Bridgegate and HelpingpeopleputtheirlivesbacktogetherafteradevastatingactofGodgate, I'm beginning to regret having my picture taken with him last year. 

I hope this picture doesn't wind up being as infamous as the one of Ronald Dumsfeld and Saddam Hussein from the 80s. 

Speaking of new jerseys I hope that shit the Bulls wore on Christmas doesn’t catch on.  Peace, I’m out like McGreevy. 

Do they care it's Christmas?

Say y’all heard of this jolly bearded dude named Santa Claus?  Megyn Kelly over at Fox News has caused all kinds of creatures to stir by insisting that Santa Claus is white.  I think maybe she got Santa confused with Frosty the Snowman.  Everyone knows that Santa Claus is just a metaphor for the year-end orgy of commerce and consumption facilitated by global capitalism.  Whether that makes Santa white or black, American or other, no one can really say.  But one thing's for sure: the elves are Chinese.  

Can't we compromise with Obgyn Kelly and just say that Santa Claus is half white and half black, like Obama?  Oh wait.  I can see how that might be a problem to certain someones.  Back to the white board, I mean the blackboard, I mean the drawing board. 

Duck duck oops

Aww sheez y'all heard of this crazy bearded dude down in Louisiana who hunts ducks on TV and hates gays in his spare time?  What am I saying, of course you have.  Phil Robertson of Duck Dynasty fame is in big trouble after making blatantly homophobic comments in an interview with GQ magazine.  

The homophobic comments were no doubt outrageously offensive, but I'm surprised that some of his racist comments have flown under the radar.  I found his claim that the black people he grew up with in Jim Crow-era Louisiana were never mistreated to be astoundingly ignorant.  He paints a picture of black people singing in the cotton fields, happily working for the white man without a care in the world, until the twin plagues of "entitlement" and "welfare" rode into town and turned that idyllic world into hell.  It's a hard sell.  I'm definitely not buying it, and I think you'd have to be racist, or at least really fucking clueless, to do so.  I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and say he's just willfully ignorant.  Although this picture of him in blackface is a bit suspicious...

For shame.

Anyway, like pretty much everything that happens on Earth these days, people’s reactions to the event are far more interesting than the event itself.  Sides were immediately taken, with Team Duck receiving kind words and support from none other than the governor of Louisiana, Jobby Bindle (I especially like the Spoonerized version of his name because the imagery wonderfully captures his transformation from sitting Governor to itinerant Presidential hopeful, traversing the country with one hand grasping the polka-dotted bindlestick slung over his shoulder while the other hand sheepishly rocks a tin can back and forth as he ingratiates himself with GOP power brokers).  Jindal/Robertson 2016.  You heard it here first.  And hopefully last. 

I don't know how I feel about A&E indefinitely suspending Robertson.  It's certainly their right to do so, but it seems like an empty gesture that won't make anything better.  It's also leading to quite the backlash, and I'm not so sure A&E wants the spotlight shined on it instead of on Phil Robertson.  After all, this is the network that once aired such highbrow fare as Beethoven's Fidelio and Agatha Cristie's Poirot, but has now resorted to airing Duck Dynasty, Criss Angel Mindfreak, Dog the Bounty Hunter, and about 38 different reality shows with the word "war" in the title e.g. Parking Wars, Storage Wars, Dancing With The Wars, Shipping Wars, Shopping Wars, Puppy Wars, Curb Your Warthusiasm, Pawn Shop Wars, Wars & Recreation, etc. etc. etc.  It's not too difficult to imagine tons of people of boycotting A&E and discovering that they're really not missing out on anything.  It would be in A&E's best interest to let all this be water under the bridge, or I guess water off a duck's back. 

It's not like Phil Robertson would have a hard time getting a new TV gig if he wanted one.  His life story just screams cable TV: he grew up dirt poor in northern Louisiana, got a football scholarship to Louisiana Tech (an oxymoron on par with 'Kansas City'), turned into a violent alcoholic who kicked his wife and kids out of the home, and finally, as sure as the sockeye salmon will swim hundreds of miles upstream to spawn before dying, completed the life cycle of the angry young Southern male by renouncing his sinful ways and accepting Jesus Christ as his savior.  Jesus tests really well in focus groups across all key demographics in America, which is pretty much unheard of for a Middle Easterner.  If I were in charge of programming over at Fox News, I'd just hand the entire weekend over to Phil Robertson.  He could have a cooking show where he grills up some shrimp while Sean Hannity accuses the remoulade of being communist.  

Obviously I'm not a fan of Phil Robertson's screwy socially conservative beliefs, but I also have a problem with the duck call he invented.  It just doesn't seem fair.  As if a human brain, camouflage, opposable thumbs, and hunting rifles weren’t enough unfair advantages, we had to go and introduce duck calls into the mix?  I just hope when the aliens come to take over Earth they have really weird voices and are incapable of mimicking human speech, to at least give us a fighting chance.  Wouldn’t it be something if aliens from, say, the seventh moon of Alpha Rigel DQX-17 show up here in a few years with a machine that precisely mimics human speech and use said machine to assist in their invasion and then later admit they got the idea while watching reruns of Duck Dynasty?  I bet y’all Duck Dynasty fans would sure feel stupid then.   

In conclusion, here is a list of things that I, as a heterosexual man, find more desirable than a man’s anus: 1) female anus; 2) ducks; 3) squirrels; 4) killing things including but not limited to items two and three; 5) our new alien overlords from Alpha Rigel DQX-17, provided they are not into male-on-male butt stuff.  Seriously, those gay Rigelians gross me out.  God created Zurmplek and Borp, NOT Zurmplek and Glorp!!!   

Pay no attention to the phallic object in my mouth.

Children of a lesser fraud

Aww man y'all heard that Nelson Mandela died last week?  I don't know much about world history but I heard he was this dude who got put in prison on some island for like 27 years before finally busting out and heading to Mexico.  I think they made a movie about it and Morgan Freeman played him.  But yeah, it's really sad that he's dead.  I just hope his son Howie is holding up okay.  

Anyway the big news now is how crazy Mandela's memorial service was.  Apparently President Obama was invited to it but he spent the whole time taking selfies with the Danish Prime Minister and making out with Raul Castro.  Such bad manners.  I was really excited when I heard that Elton John was going to be there to perform a retooled version of one of his classics, but I was expecting something along the lines of "Mandela in the Wind" rather than "Funeral for a Friend".    

But all those things pale in comparison to the utterly unfathomable weirdness of the service's sign language interpreter.  Thamsanqa Jamtjie, the ANC-approved interpreter, was actually a fraud.  Somehow he was allowed to take the stage and remain there for hours, basically doing the Macarena or whatever else cheremic gibberish he could dream up while dignitaries from all over the world gave heartfelt speeches unaware of the troll standing 3 feet away from them flashing baseball signs.  So if any of y'all were wondering why David Cameron stole home at the end of Obama's speech, now you know.  

That Jamtjie's meaningless "self-invented" gestures could command a place onstage at such a major global event is emblematic of a world in which delusional self-confidence and bluster have superseded actual competency.  And for that, he deserves to be rewarded.  Move over, Pope Francis.  Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Thamsanqa Jamjtie, TIME magazine's 2013 Person of the Year!

 

Upon hearing of his unexpected accolade, Thamsanqa Jantjie released this statement: “Many thanks, [right hand forms claw for five seconds while left hand extends pinkie finger] squeeze be informed how is why [sign of letter C five times in rapid succession] such governor of essence [uninterrupted jazz hands for thirteen minutes] and forbid suffer of correspondence marble future.  Again, [right hand forms fist and moves in alternating clockwise and counterclockwise circles for ten seconds] silent walnut [rocking motion of left hand for twelve seconds] much victorious marble future.  Marble future [conducts imaginary symphony in D flat minor for thirty seven minutes] enjoy always.”

 They also made a movie about him.

This will be my testimony

“We have a severe baby problem here in Hawai'i.  Every time I see a baby, it makes me angry.  So I just take its stroller, emptying out the contents first, of course (I'm no monster), and smash it with a sledgehammer until it’s inoperable.  I destroy them so they can’t be pushed on the streets.  And if I see a baby asleep at the bus stop or park during the night, I’m fine with that.  I won't do anything.  But if I see a baby asleep during the day, nuh-uh, that’s unacceptable.  I wake that lazy baby right up and bark at them, ‘get your ass moving!’  When you are walking down the street carrying a sledgehammer and wearing a garland of tiny baby skulls around your neck, people get out of your way. "

cf. some evil piece of shit state legislator from Hawai'i (who's a Democrat by the way, so can't no one accuse Shaq of being partisan anymore).

Cocaine Brothers

Haha say y'all heard of this crack-smoking Canadanian dude Rob Ford?  He's the current Mayor of Canada and his brother Drug Ford is a City Councillor.  The Fords of Toronto are a political dynasty much like the Fords of Detroit are an automotive and losing football dynasty.  Rob Ford hails from a part of Toronto called, appropriately enough, Etobicoke.  He's only 44 years old but he's got one of those faces of meth things going on where he looks like he's actually in his 60s.  He'd be great as Toronto's official mascot or Town Crier or comically fat Sheriff, but as Mayor he leaves a lot to be desired.  In addition to the whole crack scandal he's been accused of corruption, racism, sexual harassment, plus this one time he fell down while trying to throw a football and it was pretty hilarious.  I guess Canadians are just as stupid about their politicians as we Americans are, seeing as how Ford has refused to step down yet still has ardent supporters.

Rob Ford sound asleep at a city council meeting held for some reason at Caesar's Palace.

Everyone's having a field day making fun of Rob Ford's striking resemblance to such plumpy spheres as Chris Farley, Rush Limbaugh, John Wayne Gacy, and Grimace, but if you ask me Ford looks and acts most similar to Baron Harkonnen from the movie Dune. 

Crack is the mind-killer.  Crack is the little death that brings total obliteration.

I think ol’ Baron Fordkonnen should lay off the spice, know what I’m saying?  Looks like he’s been trained by the Denny’s Gesserit, am I right?   

Upon his election in 2010  he was hailed by Canadian conservatives as the arrival of the Kwisatz Haderach, a long awaited messianic figure who would lead them to a position of supreme power not just in Toronto, but throughout all of Ontario and even into the Maritime Provinces that's a thing right?  Those are real places?  I don't know much about Canadia.  Unfortunately for Canadian conservatives, after this scandal Ford is looking more like an Ersatz Cadillac. 

As if the crack scandal wasn't enough of a PR nightmare, Ford later badly bungled a press conference held for the express purpose of denying allegations of sexual harassment.  Talking about his accuser, he said (apparently without any regard for how poorly his crudeness would go over) that he would never "eat her pussy" because he was happily married and thus "had enough to eat at home."  

Speaking of having enough to eat at home, guess who doesn't?  That's right, poor Americans who have to resort to government assistance such as food stamps just to, as Dubya would say, put food on their family.  Well a lot of assholes in Congress want to require hungry poor people to pass a drug test in order to be eligible to receive food stamps.  One such asshole is Representative Trey Radel, a Republican (big surprise) from Florida (shocker!).  Radel's stance would be fine (albeit heartless) if he himself hadn't pled guilty to cocaine possession a couple of weeks ago.  So now this hypocritical piece of shit has, unlike Ford, agreed to take a leave of absence and go to rehab.  I suppose this is a good thing, but I'd have preferred if Radel's response to getting caught was even crazier than Ford's.  Like he and his fellow Congressional druggies (and you just know there's a bunch of them) should have dressed as Native Americans and taken to the Potomac to dump gallons upon gallons of their drug-tainted urine samples into it.  And maybe afterwards they could set up a plank and force poor people to walk it, and upon splashing into the freshly beurined waters the poors would be greeted by a bunch of Pee Party Congressional interns dressed as alligators and armed with hacksaws.  The internagator who emerged from the Potomac with the most trophies (aka amputated poor person hands) would win like a $50 Starbucks gift card or something.  I dunno, maybe an iPod Nano also if that's even a thing anymore. 

Phin de siecle

Damn y’all heard of the Miami Dolphins?  That team is in turmoil fa sho ever since it was revealed that this dude Richie (yes really that’s his real first name, he’s an adult human male with the first name Richie) Incognito (yes really that’s his real last name, not a vestige of a stage-named porn past or something the FBI dreamed up as part of the witness relocation program, he’s an adult human male with the last name Incognito) has been hazing/harassing/tormenting/extorting his Fins teammate and fellow offensive lineman Jonathan Martin.  The Dolphins already kicked Incognito off the team so now the poor guy doesn’t even have a beach to take his talents to.  

People have been asking me if there was any hazing in the NBA.  There was a little bit of the veterans giving the rooks a hard time, but nothing like what goes down in the NFL.  I mean sure, there was this one time I urinated in ma boy Dwyane Wade's Gatorade, but c'mon, that was classic!  We were playing the Detroit Pistons and he asked me what a 'piston' even was, so I said to him, I said "SHEEEIT, I JUST 'PISTON' YOUR GATORADE SON OH SHIT BURN SON AH HA HA LOLZ!!!"  We all had a good laugh about it once he got out of the hospital.  Oh yeah, we went on to win the NBA championship the next season.  I don't think that's a coincidence.  

So there you go, scientific proof that hazing works, at least in the NBA.  I think maybe, maybe Incognito took things too far, but more likely he's just misunderstood, right?  So he called Martin a “half-nigger” which let’s be real, coming from a racist that’s really like half a compliment.  And so he threatened to shit in Martin’s mouth which let’s be real, coming from a developmentally arrested manboy that’s actually kinda sweet.  And then he went on to threaten to slap Martin’s mom across the face which let’s be real, coming from an irredeemably psychopathic asshole that’s actually somewhat considerate.  Hmm now that I think about it, I totally agree with the surprisingly large number of NFL players, sports media, and fans on Team Richie who say that Jonathan Martin was being a wuss by not fighting back.  

Yes, all you concussion-addled former and current NFLers and all you meathead athlete-manque Twitter warriors who took Incognito's side during all this, you are completely correct.  Jonathan Martin's refusal to inflict physical harm on a teammate is just another example of what so many of the leading intellectual lights of the Intertubes are calling the "pussification" of the NFL.  Don't you just love that word, "pussification"?  What a marvelous pejorative.  After all, what could be worse than a vagina, amirite???  What we need to do is promote the PENISIFICATION OF MURKA!  Back in, for instance, Mike Ditka's time you could unwind after a long hard girthy day of tackling your sweaty tights-wearing fellow man by filling a sock with ejaculate quarters and swinging it right in your secret crush rookie teammate's face and breaking his sweet trusting heart eye socket LIKE A REAL MAN WOULD.  If in the fevered attempt to prove your manhood you wind up forgetting your humanity, so what?  That's just medial collateral ligament damage IT HAPPENS IN WAR ALL THE TIME LOOK IT UP EINSTEIN.  FOOTBALL IS ANALOGOUS TO WAR AND PEPPERING THE INTERWEBS WITH PAEANS CELEBRATING LOCKER ROOM ABUSE IS JUST LIKE GOING ON A USO TOUR.  Man all this poissonification of the NFL is driving me crazy I mean dolphins aren't fish first of all.  USING VIOLENCE TO SOLVE YOUR PROBLEMS IS THE AMERICAN DREAM, but we all know that thanks to Obama the American Dream is dead.  I HOPE YOUR HAPY LIBRULS.
  
The worst part of this whole scandal was when Obama got on TV and said that if he had a fat son he would look just like Jonathan Martin.  And then upon winning reelection Chris Christie went on the air to announce if he had a clone he would look just like Richie Incognito.  Not to be outdone, Toronto mayor Rob Ford held a tear-filled press conference where he affirmed that if he had an American son he would look just like Richie Incognito.  But then Rush Limbaugh outdid them all by announcing that Richie Incognito was in fact his biological son, which pretty much explains everything about this whole mess. 

Full disclosure, I actually met Incognito once at a charity golf tournament in Miami.  I could tell he was a disturbed dude by the way he was treating one of the female volunteers (and I don’t mean Candace Parker).  He was poking at the woman’s vagina with his golf club (and curiously enough, I didn’t hear any meatheads complaining then that he was contributing to the "pussification" of golf).  I’ve seen insecure men use all sorts of things as a surrogate penis but that was definitely the first time I got to check off “9-iron” on my copy of Surrogate Penis Bingo.   

Speaking of surrogate penises, Incognito’s SUV had one of those “Eracism” bumper stickers so I didn’t have him pegged as a racist but turns out it was just an advertisement for his racist website.

God Hates Spags

Awww steeznart say y’all heard of this sport called football?  It's pretty much like basketball but without the dribbling and you have to wear tights instead of shorts.  As a child I actually dreamt of being an NFL running back before experiencing an unfortunate growth spurt.  No one wanted a 7'2" 350 pound halfback so I had to settle for being the best basketball player in NBA history.  Anyway it's the middle of football season and I'm excited because my favorite team, the New Orleans Saints, are 6-2 and on top of their division.  It's a substantial improvement from last year's disastrous 7-9 record.  The biggest reasons for the Saints' success this year are the return of head coach/Juicy Fruit enthusiast Sean Payton and the arrival of new defensive coordinator/carbohydrate enthusiast Rob Ryan. 

The Saints got rid of last year's defensive coordinator, Steve Spagnuolo, after just one season.  That might seem a bit rash but keep in mind that the Saints defense was statistically the worst defense of all time.  OF ALL TIME.  You know your shit is weak when Fred Phelps and the Westboro Baptist Church are protesting your defense’s ineptitude.  Apparently the 4-3 defense is an abomination in the eyes our Lord, so Phelps and his congregation picketed outside the Superdome before every home game last season, refusing to leave until Saints management promised to hire a new defensive coordinator and install a 3-4 defense.  

Now I'm no fan of Fred Phelps, but I gotta give him props for his role in convincing the Saints to bring in Rob Ryan.  Those Westboro Baptist Church folk may have some strange ideas about sexuality and funeral etiquette, but their church doctrine regarding NFL defensive schemes is surprisingly logical and well constructed.  As the Bible teaches us in Numbers 3:4,

“Nadab and Abihu, however, fell dead before the LORD when they made an offering with unauthorized fire before him in the Desert of Sinai.  They had no sons; so only Eleazar and Ithamar served as priests during the lifetime of their father Aaron.” 

I’m no expert of Biblical exegesis but even a layman can see that this passage prophesies that the switch to a 3-4 defense will lead the Saints to the promised land, i.e. East Rutherford, New Jersey for Super Bowl XLVIII where Rob Ryan, Sean Payton, and Drew Brees will direct the Saints to a dominant 38-10 victory over Jason Campbell's resurgent Cleveland Browns.  Sorry Browns fans.  I just don't think this is your year.     

Obamascare

Aww damn y'all heard how the gubmint tried to make a website but then it turnt out that the website they made wasn't really even that good of a website?  I hope Obama is impeached for this.  THE INDIVIDUAL MANDATE IS UNCONSTITUITIONAL.  Also I don't really know what the word "impeach" means.  Or the word "mandate".  I get that the gubmint is all shut down and shit, but you'd think that they could at least manage to get one simple little website to stay up and running.  I mean, how am I supposed to sign up for one of those vaunted death panels if I can't even get on the website?  

Even though the Obamacare website has been up for less than a week and Obamacare itself doesn't begin implementation for another few months, Obamacare is an unmitigated nation-ruining disaster the likes of which haven't been seen since the K-T extinction event 66 million years ago.  I guess in this analogy Obamacare is the asteroid, the Yucatan Peninsula is America, and dinosaurs are freedom.  

Librul pundits are making a big mistake if they think that conservatives essentially agree with the underlying provisions of Obamacare and are acting out against the law due to being reflexively enraged by the "Obama" part of Obamacare.  The truth is that I as well as most of my conservative peers are actually most enraged by the "care" part of Obamacare.  Why should the government be allowed to FORCE me to buy health care?  What if I don't believe in caring for my health?  Is that not my God-given right?  JESUS IS MY COPAY.

More to the point, why should I have to pay for the health care of others???!!!  That's as ridiculous as making me pay for the education of others, or the maintenance of infrastructure that others use, or the military protection of others.  Where will it stop?  Will I be forced by the gubmint to buy my neighbor a birthday present every year?  Or to mow his lawn for him every weekend?  Or to stop sleeping with his wife?  THIS IS AMERICA Y'ALL SHAQ GOT NEEDS TOO.

And anyway our horrible health care system is the primary economic engine of this nation, helping to create millions of jobs for coroners, grave diggers, bankruptcy lawyers, funeral directors, eulogy writers, and facial tissue manufacturers.  Most people are happy that American car manufacturing has made a comeback, but few people know that hearses account for over 70 percent of all new cars sold in America, according to the 2012 car census.  

Messiah Complex

Damn y’all heard about this judge in Tennessee what ordered a 7 month old baby boy’s name be changed from “Messiah” to something more acceptable?  According to Judge Lu Ann Ballew, there was only one Messiah in history and his name was Baby Jeebus, so to subject a little kid to such grandiose expectations is unfair.  That’s probably right.  Can you imagine the disappointment his mother would feel if little Messiah didn’t grow up to be the Word made Flesh and resurrect the dead and lead mankind into the promised land and preside over his eternal kingdom or whatever it is that messiahs are supposed to do and instead become a teacher or a lawyer or something?  Or, God forbid, a businessman?  Eww.  

Being in the world of professional sports, I personally know of a lot of athletes whose parents had high hopes for them and who projected that hope into their names, only to be disappointed as their children chose to become athletes.  Doc Rivers, my former coach when I was with the Celtics, was halfway through his residency in neuroplastibiolinguistinformatics when he abruptly quit to pursue a career in basketball.  Sure, he went back to finish up and can (and does) proudly carry the title of “Doctor”, but to this day his friends and family think of him as a failure.  My frenemy Kobe Bryant was named after the choicest, most succulent kind of beef, yet his flesh is actually quite stringy and gamey and honestly not even worth eating at all really, except maybe slow cooked in some sort of stew with at least two other delicious yet criminally underrated ingredients to cover for his flaws.  And don’t even get me started on Metta World Peace.   

Some might say the judge overreacted, but she’s right that being named Messiah would open the kid up to ridicule and bullying from his peers.  The judge was correct in forcing the mother to rechristen –uhh I mean rename her baby.  After all, being named Shaquille, I know a thing or two about names that get you bullied as a child.  That’s why I had my name legally changed to “Shaq-Fu”.  Now hardly anyone gives me wedgies during gym.  Also keep in mind this judge’s name is Lu Ann, which I believe is Appalachian for “chronic ringworm infections”.  So unfortunately she didn’t have anyone looking out for her when she was a child.  She just wants to make sure no one else has to go through what she and I had to go through.  

As a public service, Judge Lu Ann has compiled a list of names that Tennessean mothers should NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE give to their baby boys: Messiah; God; Stigmata; Adolf; Osama; Satan; Thad Matta; Francis; Pope Francis; Track; Bark; Trig; Algebra 2; Lindsey; Pope Benedict (probably just steer clear of Pope-anything); Ludacris (“Ludicrous” is acceptable, however); Jebediah; Mohammed; Mitt; Newt; Splat; Charmander; Willard; Rush; Reince; Erick Erickson; P. Diddy; Bulbosaur; Tucker; Channing; Bubba; Tim; Bubba Tim; Larry Joe; Jermichael; Jermetrius; Endojermetriosis; North West; Southwest; Lufthansa; Delicious; Johnny Football; Yrotagrup (“Purgatory” spelled backwards, for some reason this one is all the rage); George Arthur; Blanket; Snuggie; Prince; Prince Charming (you will get sued by Disney); Apple (you will get sued by Apple); D’Brickashaw; Herbert; Prescott; Lemuel; Vernon; Ferguson; Linus; Chip; Skip; Chirp; Burp; Mantonio; Piyush; Ho Lee Fuk; Bang Ding Ow; Sum Ting Wong; Wi Tu Lo; okay well this list is kinda getting too big huh?  

I guess the takeaway, women of Tennessee, is to stop having kids.  Just stop.  Don’t.  It’s simply not worth the hassle of potentially giving your child a name for which they may get made fun of.  This aligns perfectly with the government’s campaign to control every aspect of a woman’s reproductive system.  If women can’t be trusted to choose if and when to have a child in the first place, then of course they can’t be trusted to name the child.  I’d even go a step further.  I personally believe every female, upon entering childbearing age, should be issued a government-approved nickname for her ladyparts.  You know, something like “Ms. Thang” or “Princess Sparkles” or “Sasha Fierce” or “Easy Bake Love Oven” or "Shamesville U.S.A." or “STATE SANCTIONED FEMALE REPRODUCTIVE UNIT #223APC3023847500-2302”.  This would really help drive the point home that women don’t own their bodies.  Hopefully Judge Lu Ann Ballew will join the Tea Party, get elected to Congress, and write such a bill. 

Et tu America?*

Oh shit say y'all heard of this dude George Zimmerman?  That fool fatally shot Trayvon Martin and just got away with it.  It's weird to think that in this country an unarmed black teenager is considered fair game for a gun-toting adult, but I guess that's what our Founding Fathers had in mind when they designed our criminal justice system.  God bless America.  While I unequivocally disagree with the verdict, I can’t help but marvel at the effectiveness of the defense’s closing argument.  The picture that defense attorney Mark O'Mara painted was so precise, gripping, and evocative that I felt, as I'm sure the jury did, that I was right there alongside Zimmerman on that fateful February night in Florida as he fearlessly sacrificed his own safety to ensure the safety of his, yes his, neighborhood, a neighborhood beset by robbery and burglary and ebony, a neighborhood direly in need of a watch, a watch to be undertaken by a hero, not just any hero but an especially valiant hero who, not satisfied with merely watching, goes the extra mile and CAPTAINS SAID WATCH (our plucky hero presumably wears a tinfoil badge issued to him by the retired mall cop next door and has a neato decoder ring retrieved from the depths of a particularly foreboding box of Cap'n Crunch).  It was such a textbook example of compelling legal rhetoric that I just had to quote it in its entirety on this here blog of mine:

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, um, I mean ladies of the jury, look at my client.  Just look at him.  Do you really think that such a pudgy paranoid pants-pissing coward would stand a chance with anyone in a fair fight?  He had no choice but to use his gun.  I mean look at him.  Really look at him.  For fuck’s sake.  This is the same man, if you can even call him that, who once tearfully dialed 911 to report that he somehow got both hands caught in Pringles cans.  How he managed to dial the number, we’ll never know.  But that’s a matter for another time.  

"Trayvon Martin may have been unarmed, but he certainly had arms.  Two of them.  Which could be used to punch my client, or perhaps even poke his distended belly in an attempt to elicit a delightfully high-pitched squeal.  How was my client to know that the Skittles and iced tea Mr. Martin was carrying was not actually Mentos and Coke?  Can you imagine the carnage that Mr. Martin could inflict on my client if that were the case?  Surely my client, the pathetic loser that he is, and at this time I’d like to politely ask the jury to look at him one last time, just soak it all in, had reason to believe his life was in danger.  Now sure, if my client were charged with eating a marshmallow, I’d ask you to find him guilty of cannibalism.  But you cannot find him guilty of murder.  If you poke his stomach too many times, even the Pillsbury Doughboy has the right to stand his ground.  Or, if he’s too tired to stand, he can wallow in his unvacuumed ground, surrounded by Twinkie wrappers and empty Big Gulp cups, intently polishing his beloved gun/surrogate penis, visions of perp walks, shootouts, and car chases dancing in his head."  

 

*what Trayvon Martin’s brother tweeted after the verdict. 

Buttergate

Yo yo yo y’all heard of this TV chef named Paula Deen (sic)?  Her brother’s name is Earl, but that’s a bit too frou-frou for their target demographic (well it’s actually more of a Wal-Mart demographic), so he just goes by Bubba.  Well, Bubba Hiers is being accused of an assortment of unsavory acts against his workers.  I don’t really feel like going into detail.  Basically, imagine all the things you would expect someone named “Bubba Hiers” to do and you won’t be too far off.  Anyway, Paula was deposed as part of Bubba’s trial.  Her testimony revealed some pretty lurid details about her personal life, the creepiest of which was that she wanted to throw Bubba a wedding with a Southern plantation theme, replete with middle-aged black men dressed as slaves.  Yeah.  I’ve been to some weird weddings in my day, even one that was crashed by Dikembe Mutombo, but this one is a fridge too far.  

Understandably, Deen got fired from her Food Network shows.  It’s a disheartening blow to her fans.  I count myself among them.  She does some amazing things with butter, or "yellow gold" as some call it.  She truly was the Bard of Butter, the Laureate of Lard.  She displayed an artistic flair for cooking, a beautiful proficiency much like "Pistol" Pete Maravich, if basketballs were made of rendered bacon fat and hoops were made of diabetes.  She is pretty much my culinary hero.  If Mount Rushmore were made of butter, she’d be carved into it along with that hot Native American woman on the Land O’Lakes box.  

Her upcoming cookbook has been dropped by her publisher, which is a shame because it contained some of her most revolutionary recipes yet.  The book itself was rumored to be edible, with dangerously high levels of trans fats and split infinitives (recommended serving size: 2 chapters).  Its title was supposed to be Paula Deen's New Testament: 250 Favorite Recipes, All Lightened Up.  I’m not kidding, "lightened up".  Lightened up.  Though I do give her credit for not using the term “whitened up”.  Presumably it was intended to be the sequel to Paula Deen's Old Testament: Am I My Butter’s Keeper?   

Anyway I have high friends in places, and they managed to sneak me a copy of her manuscript.  Of course there are the old standbys like Butter Loaf, Country Fried Butter, Beer Battered Butter, Butters Foster, Butters Rockefeller, and Upside Down Butter Surprise.  But what's really notable is the startling boldness and creativity of some of the book's new recipes.  Take an appetizer she calls "Pretzelcoatl", for example.  That's when you take a big ole tub of butter, strip yourself and smear your entire naked body with it, grab a fistful of pretzels, and then set yourself on fire at the altar of Buttercoatl, the buttered serpent god of the ancient Olmecs (editor's note: this dish is meant to be consumed only on the eve of the harvest moon of non-Leap years, under the watchful eye of a temple-certified menstruating virgin).  Another tasty dish is the "Butterostomy".  That's when you fill a 55 gallon drum with equal parts melted butter and hog squeeze and have the contents delivered to you intravenously over the course of a week (only a week because that’s the longest the insurance company will cover your hospital stay, and even then it’s only insurable because you got your personal gastrobutterologist to claim that you were suffering from dangerously low blood butter levels).  And then there's the piece de resistance, the chef d'oeuvre, the coup de maitre, the fin du fin, the raison d'etre, the City of Light, the mouthwatering masterpiece that Paula calls "Buttered Houdini".  That's when you drain an Olympic sized swimming pool and fill it with butter, fly the Pope in to consecrate it in the name of St. Bartholomew, the patron saint of butter and angina, throw a shackled escape artist in, and then get the surviving members of the offensive line of the 2001 Super Bowl runners-up New York Giants to come and see if they can finish eating the butter before the magician can escape.  

On a more serious note, one thing I find strange in the aftermath of Deen’s firing is the cognitive dissonance being exhibited by the people coming to her defense.  Basically they're saying that every Southerner her age is racist, so why single her out?  But these are also presumably the same people who claim that racism in America is no longer a problem and get over it you libruls and I disagree with the president's policies not his skin color and some of my best friends are Marxist Kenyan Muslims and why can black people use the N-word but if I scream it at the dark-complected kid next door suddenly I'm the racist?!?!?  So anyway, which is it, geniuses?  You can't have it both ways.  Either racism is a pervasive enough problem that we have to take it seriously and try to counteract it, so let's not reflexively accuse people of playing the "race card" every time someone claims to be a victim of racism (and we can forgive Deen but use this as a teachable moment for her and others like her who are just symptoms of a pervasive racist culture) or racism is so rare that any public expression of it should be treated as a shocking violation of societal norms, so we can more or less safely scoff at any purported victim of racism since statistically you're more likely to milk a hermaphroditic unicorn than be a victim of racism (and Deen should be mercilessly lambasted for failing to conform to the same pluralistic norms that most Americans have no problem adhering to).  So, idiots, choose.  You can't have your cake and eat it too.  And if it's a chocolate cake, you can't dress it like a slave and expect it to work for beer.

Paula's Home Cooking may be off the air and Food Network may want nothing more to do with her, but her brand is still going strong in the American (clogged) Heartland.  If I'm her agent, I'm pitching potential new shows to every TV station under the sun.  If there's one thing America loves more than racism and butter, it's a comeback story.  You can't tell me there isn't a huge market for such shows as Welcome Back Butter, WKKK in Cincinnati, Deen & Deen: Butterneys at Law, Clarissa Enslaves It All, 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Butter, and my personal favorite, Manumission: Impossible.

Semper Dry: UPDATE!!!

Aww sheeeeit y'all!!!  Turns out Obama isn't the only one who was once mired in an umbrella-related scandal!  That Persian dude Xerxes way back in the BC times was caught using his top-ranking palace eunuchs, Aspamitres and Aspartame, as umbrella attendants.  This foolishly arrogant act outraged Xerxes' subjects and in short time he was assassinated by Artabanus in 465 BC.  Obama is usually quick to learn from history so I'm surprised that he wasn't smart enough to not copy Xeroxes' folly.  

L-R: Aspamitres, Aspartame, Xerxes.  Not pictured: rain.

  

Semper Dry

Damn y’all heard of this outrage about Obama having a Marine hold an umbrella over his head during an outdoors press conference with the Prime Minister of Turkey?  First of all it seems impolite to refer to an entire country as a ‘Turkey’ but then Lebron reminded me that the Ottoman Empire lost World War I so as part of its punishment it must’ve had to rename itself.  Anyway, idiotic conservatives are all like "why can’t the man hold his own damn umbrella?"  But I think these people are missing the larger point.  Don’t get me wrong, I do sympathize with those who feel that people should hold their own umbrellas.  I myself, as a 7’2” black man, have found it near impossible to find a sufficiently tall and unracist umbrella attendant.  This forces me to take care of all my umbrella-related program activities myself, but come on people, Obama is the President of the United States!  I also mow my own lawn and clip my own toenails (though rarely at the same time), but do we really expect the POTUS to do such menial tasks himself?  And why do people care so much that it’s a Marine?  The Secret Service does all the President’s laundry, reads him his bedtime stories, and packs him his Lunchables, but I don’t hear anyone complain about that.  

Just imagine if the Obamas laid off all their staff and started doing simple everyday tasks for themselves, the unemployment rate would skyrocket!  The head umbrella dude over at the Marines has a family to feed just like you or me.  He gets laid off, and his little girl can’t go to college.  Is that what you monsters want?  He went to umbrella college for 4 years just to get laid off during a recession so the White House could save a few bucks?  HAIL NO.  He served his country nobly and protected his President from the rain, and now you want to leave him out in the rain?  I DON’T THINK SNOW.  I AIN’T DOWN WET THAT.  In the olden days a man and his umbrella jockey had a special relationship, almost like bloodbrothers.  They say blood is thicker than water, but nothing is thicker than rain.  Ponder that.  Most Americans hold their own umbrellas nowadays which may seem like a good thing, but that’s a lot of former umbrella attendants out of a job.  New Jersey is the only state that has a law against self-serve umbrella use.  I don’t think it’s a coincidence that New Jersey also happens to be the most beautiful, prosperous, and happy state.  And anyway, every American President has had his own umbrella attendant ever since an un-umbrella’d William Henry Harrison caught a fatal case of the pneumonias during his Inaugural Address.  It’s an American tradition, just like baseball, apple pies, and wars in Iraq.  

Think about what happened to the last U.S. president who foolishly decided to defy proper parasol protocol.  

 

Never forget.

Even though George W. Bush presided over America’s halcyon days, and while history will surely remember him as the dignified, principled, capable leader he was, many misguided partisans stubbornly continue to define him by his sole mistake.  In case you don’t remember, in early 2005, in a rare departure from his usual practice of moderation and judiciousness, George W. Bush insisted on holding his own umbrella.  This bold demonstration of American strength was designed to strike fear into the hearts of Islamic terrorists, but it sadly ended in disaster.  The operation proved to be too ambitious, too complex, too demanding for one man to tackle, and thus had to be abandoned halfway through.  The mission left unaccomplished, an entire nation gasped in horror.  Though this was the one and only blemish on W’s legacy, a solitary turd floating along a vast tranquil pool of immaculate chlorinated glory, his reputation never really recovered. 

It's almost as though he's not that bright or something.

Umbrellagate is just proof that Obama has learned from his predecessor’s mistake, like Dubya himself who learned from Bill Clinton that one should never use an intern’s vagina as a humidor, and Clinton who in turn learned from Bush Sr. that Japanese ambassadors, contrary to certain videos you can find on the internet, do not enjoy being vomited on. 

Mission accomplished.

Nate Robinson comes out as first openly short player in NBA history

CHICAGO (AP) -- In a move sure to shock NBA fans the world over, an emotional Chicago Bulls guard Nate Robinson revealed that he is, and has been his whole life, short.  “I’m like 5’6’’, 5’7’’ tops,” Robinson tearfully admitted to a group of astonished reporters who had gathered near his locker Thursday afternoon.  “This has been eating me up inside for so long.  I knew it was time to be a man and stop living a lie.”  Asked when he first realized the truth about his condition, Robinson stated he had long suspected it but had hoped that it was “a phase [he] would grow out of.”  “I had my suspicions since I was a kid, looking at all the other kids, wondering why I was so different from them.  No one ever understood me.  Like literally, everyone stood over me because I was so much shorter than them.  Everyone looked down on me.  Like literally, they had to look down to make eye contact while talking to me, I was so much shorter than them.  At sleepovers my friends would all hang out in the pillow fort, while I’d be in the closet.  Like literally, I slept in the closet.  I was short enough to do so.”   

In an exclusive interview with Proceedings of the National Institute of Basketball, Robinson divulged more details.  In late August of last year, despondent from the stress of living a lie, a desperate Robinson attempted suicide.  “I tried to hang myself from a ceiling fan, but I couldn’t reach it,” Robinson candidly recounted.  “Then I tried to jump off a bridge, but I couldn’t clear the guardrail.  Then I stood on the El tracks hoping to get run over, but the train just whizzed by right over my head.”  The new relaxed, unburdened Robinson can see the silver lining in his suicidal predicament.  “[The train] did give me a free buzzcut, so I guess God really does have a plan for each one of us.”  Though life is often difficult, Robinson has developed ingenious ways to cope with his disability.  He shared his predicament with Chicago celebrity meteorologist Tom Skilling, who developed a state of the art device to inform Robinson of the weather.  Gushed Robinson, “I’m no longer the last to know when it’s raining, and that’s a big deal for me.”   

Robinson expressed hope that his confession would not pose a distraction as his Bulls team finds itself in the middle of a grueling playoff series against the defending champion Miami Heat.  “I know my boys in this locker room, on this team, we’re tight.  They got my back.”  “We love Nate, we know he’s so much more than just his height,” offered Bulls teammate Joakim Noah.  “He’s also his weight, speed, and jumping ability.”  Bulls coach Tom Thibodeau was supportive of his diminutive point guard.  “I think it’s great he came out.  The younger kids, this new generation, they’re a lot more open to these things.  And don’t get me wrong, I think that’s a great thing.  A great thing.”  Injured point guard Kirk Heinrich agreed.  “I don’t care if a teammate’s tall, short, white, black, green, [or] Jewish.  The only concern is ‘can he play?’  And Nate can play at times.”   

Robinson’s travails have hit home with fellow Bulls guard Jimmy Butler.  “I don’t tell people this usually, but Nate gave me the courage.  My dad was short.  Growing up, I really didn’t have any idea.  I didn’t even know what that meant.  But later my mom figured it out and they got divorced.  I didn’t have hardly any contact with him because [the divorce court judge] said that no short man could be a good father.”  Robinson’s brave admission comes at a time of increasing acceptance of short people.  “Nowadays a short person can walk down the street and no one bats an eye.  Some of my best friends are short.  Hell, my baby daughter is short, but I love her all the same,” stated Bulls forward Carlos Boozer, who signed with the Bulls two years ago after many seasons playing for the Utah Jazz.  “In Salt Lake, Nate would’ve been hassled.  They don’t take kindly to his type there.  The Mormon Church still considers shortness to be a sign of God’s disfavor.  So I’ve seen firsthand how hard it can be for people like Nate to feel welcome in society.”  Bulls small forward and native of Sudan Luol Deng, who has been hospitalized all week due to complications stemming from meningitis and a botched spinal tap, expressed pride in Robinson’s announcement.  “I come from a war torn country and almost died last week.  But when I see what Nate has been able to overcome, it makes me realize just how lucky I am.  He motivated me to play through the pain.  I knew I had to fight and represent my team.  I knew I couldn’t let Nate down.”  Bulls star Derrick Rose was unavailable for comment, as he bit his tongue five weeks ago and his personal doctor had yet to clear his mouth for speech.   

They call it the playoffs.  Perhaps it’s because, with the stakes so high, you can’t afford to take a play off.  Robinson understands this, and doesn’t shrink away from the pressure.  He has come up huge for the Bulls even while being under the microscope on this, the NBA’s biggest stage.  “The way I look at it is, you can’t spell ‘disability’ without ‘ability’”, Robinson astutely observes.  “The Chinese use the same character for ‘short’ as they do for ‘opportunity’.  It’s a blessing in disguise.  Only through adversity can we ever improve.  Yeah, so I’m short, so what?  Life is short.”  Short in stature but a giant of a competitor, Robinson is living proof that sometimes the best things do come in small packages.  Can Robinson lead his beleaguered Bulls to an upset series win against the Heat?  It would certainly be a tall order, but I for one am not about to sell him short.   

Rick Reilly contributed to this article.