When you think football, you think beer. And when you think Redskins football, you think of the crapper. So this seems like a match made in heaven.

But it seems a little pushy, and more than a little icky, for beer vendors to be plying their trade to fans waiting on line to use the restrooms, and for those leaving the urinals. And it's not a new thing: one hero on a Skins message board has made it his personal quest to chronicle this practice, and he's found it two years in a row:

It's hard to fault this as a business practice, though. If you're a bathroom, selling beer is a great way to guarantee repeat business.

Breaking News: Fans Say Redskins Selling Beer in FedExField Bathrooms! [Washington City Paper]

I have not observed or participated in a sporting event in person, with the exception of an insane competitive game of super-homo water volleyball last weekend, which, OMG, and also a couple of dumb media league softball games (I believe I did bat in a double), since the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics field hockey.

(I am old.) So I had no idea that you sports fans were getting JACKED. $8.75 for a goddammned beer in San Francisco's "AT&T Park"? What is that beer made of, frankincense and ground-up elves? Recent actual math conducted by the Wall Street Journal correlates these outrageous beer prices with winningness, and finds: "A team with a .600 winning percentage charges, on average, about $1.30 more for a 16-ounce beer than does a team with a .400 percentage." But doesn't that just screw the fan? Don't winning teams, eventually, earn better than loserdogs? At least the most beer-screwed attendee, ounce per ounce, is at Fenway Park, where everybody can suck it.

Domestic drafts at Reliant Stadium are now served in minuscule 20-ounce cups, instead of the 24-ouncers from last season. One observant fan realized he wasn't as drunk as he should be and did the math, which in all honesty is a better way to spend his time than actually watching preseason football:

We took an empty $7.75 beer cup home Saturday. It was $7.50 last year and when I filled it with water and poured that into one of last year's cups it came up 4 oz. short. After all that publicity about "specials" for the 'down economy' they've pulled a "bait and switch".

While the move is partially due to the NFL's new crackdown on binge drinking, it's also a tricky way for the team to boast they're not raising concessions prices during the recession.

If we'd served 24 ounces this year, the price would be higher," [Houston's VP of Communications] said. But, he added, referring to the NFL initiative, "Honestly, it was more of a responsibility decision. It wasn't a business decision. ... We as the Texans wanted to do the most responsible thing."

The most responsible thing would be to bump the serving size back up to 24 ounces after Matt Schaub inevitably goes down.

Reliant Stadium Beers Are Less Filling In 2009 [Houston Chronicle]

A new Bud Light promotion is producing cans with 27 different color combinations and selling them in areas that maybe, coincidentally have a local university that uses the same hues. (Purple and gold in Baton Rouge, yellow and blue in Ann Arbor, etc.) But that doesn't mean they expect college kids to drink the stuff.

"Show your true colors with Bud Light," the company says, according to copies of internal marketing materials obtained by colleges. "This year, only Bud Light is delivering superior drinkability in 12-ounce cans that were made for gameday.

Ok, maybe a little. But just the 25% of college students who are actually old enough to do so! For serious, guys. After all, most college football stadiums don't even sell beer so how else are you supposed to show your school pride?

Most of the schools affected have complained about the cans, but LSU has wisely decided to "keep a close eye" instead. And Texas doesn't mind because the cans aren't exactly "burnt" orange. Just orange-y. So drink up, junior! Unless you're some kind of bandwagon Coors fan.

Team-Color Bud Cans Leave Colleges Flat [Wall Street Journal]

And by "mess with the bull," I mean "shake hands with children after a match." (Watch the video here.) The woman—a Brisbane fan who "holds a Victorian-based Lions Membership with AFL entry rights," which I assume is Australian for "season tickets"—has already apologized for hurling the frosty beverage at Brad Johnson of the Western Bulldogs. Like the Cubs fan, she was hunted down by the media and quickly surrendered, but has not been identified by name.

However, she is "extremely remorseful" and prays that she can make restitution and/or not lose her seats. She feels terrible about getting caught, but still has no regrets about refusing to put her phone call on hold. The beer wasn't that good anyway.

So will this trend sweep the globe? What sports are next? Badminton? Curling? Beer league softball? (That would be a real tragedy.) It's good to see that so many people can afford to throw away expensive beverages in this economy, but let's throw them into our stomachs instead.

Woman sorry for throwing beer Bulldogs captain Brad Johnson [The Courier-Mail]
Aussie Rules Football Player Gets Beer Thrown On Him By Fan: Video [Sports Rubbish]

* * * * *

Get some sleep tonight. The Erin Andrews GQ issue drops in A.M. and you'll need all your strength.

These happy, affectionate Hamburg fans are just minding their own business, grinning eerily, picking each other up, and sharing a kiss to celebrate their favorite team's goal against Manchester City, as is the German custom, when BAM - beer to the head. The German commitment to austerity is commendable.

And yes, the first word in the video title is "Bierdusche." It does not mean what you think it means.

Female Hamburg fan gets a hug, a kiss and a soaking [Off The Post]

Daly is hawking his clothing line just outside the gates of Augusta National; this photo was taken on Wednesday beside a Washington Road jewelry store, near the club. Of course it was at the Masters in 2006 when this famous photo was taken, so a John Daly clothing line being sold here makes perfect sense. Who wouldn't want to look like that?

His well-publicized antics got Daly suspended from the PGA Tour for six months; being passed out drunk outside of a Hooters is hard to top, but I also like the fact that he once returned from a rain delay with John Gruden as his caddy. Actually he's lost about 40 pounds and is planning to play in the European Tour's Spanish Open beginning April 30. I wish him luck; not having John Daly around is no fun.

From the John Daly Apparel site:

Comfort is the key ingredient in John Daly Apparel. Most items carrying the "Daly Comfort Wear" tag are made from Technical Performance fabrics that are moisture wicking, deodorizing and provide SPF protection. There are also some very high-end cotton and extraordinary specialty lifestyle shirts.

And when you're talking specialty lifestyle, you are indeed talking John Daly.

Daly Hawking Gear Outside Augusta National [Golf.com]
John Daly Makes It To The Masters — Selling Stuff [SportsbyBrooks]
Down And Out Daly Works On Shirt Game [New York Post]

Evidently the sellout crowd at the previous game, Monday's Opening Day, got all Bob and Doug McKenzie and was throwing various items at Tigers outfielders. That was the final straw for the Alcohol and Gaming Commission of Ontario, which banned alcohol (clubhouse included) on Tuesday. Also cited in the decision were previous infractions at concerts and a CFL game. The stadium's liquor license was suspended for three dates: The others April 21 (Toronto vs. Texas), and a CFL game on Aug. 1. April 21 is Messin' With Recession Night, when all upper deck seats are $4. Over-under on hollow prosthetic legs and fake pregnancies for that one: 1,112.

BJ's will still be allowed, however.

The Blue Jays' 12-5 win Monday was delayed nine minutes in the eighth inning when fans threw two baseballs in the direction of Detroit left fielder Josh Anderson and tossed a handful of paper planes and empty beer cups onto the field.

Anderson was pleased to hear alcohol would not be sold Tuesday. "That's good," he said. "These people can't handle it."

The only ones not drinking that day: These dorks.

Update: A couple of readers have pointed out that the alcohol ban actually was decided on prior to Monday's opener.

Blue Jays Ban Beer Sales Due To Unruly Fans [CBS11]

That's enough for me. But things have been rather bleak on the Dartmouth campus so far this school year, as Keggy — the unofficial school mascot invented in 2003 by writers of the campus humor society The Jack-O-Lantern — had been missing in action for six months. That was due to a shocking incident this past summer in which Keggy's storage closet was ransacked and his costume pilfered, with only small parts of Keggy ever recovered by police. Those terrorist bastards.

From The Dartmouth Independent:

Many here on campus have noticed Keggy's absence this past year at his staple diet of Dartmouth football and hockey games, especially his prominent presence amongst the throngs of fans at Memorial Field. One Jack-O member emphatically connected the dots: Keggy was gone and football team let the shit hit the fan this year. What else is there to say?

But following a laborious reconstruction project by the Jack-O-Lantern staff (your tuition dollars at work, mom and dad!), Keggy made his triumphant return last week during Winter Carnival with a tour of the Dartmouth campus. And finally, Hanover, New Hampshire feels whole again.

More from the Keggy file:

• Was created by students in 2003 after a school vote winner, the Moose, was deemed unacceptable.

• Has been interviewed in Playboy Magazine.

• "Shortly after Keggy's introduction in 2003, a group of students stole the Keggy costume from its home in the Sigma Nu fraternity library and sent threatening notes to Keggy's creators, including photographs of the mascot bound and gagged with one black eye. ... Keggy was eventually returned with minor damage to the costume."

• Keggy is too large and unwieldy to use the stairs or fit through doorways on the Dartmouth campus, causing its creators to declare the school "keg inaccessible."

• Keggy has not updated his blog since Sept., 2007. Come on, Keggy!

Keggy's Back! [The Dartmouth Independent]

Rosholt kind of resembles a Teddy Bear, or the guy who always has extra trail mix on a hike. But I wouldn't want to mess with him; in addition to being an ultimate fighter, he was pretty fair wrestler in college.

From Yahoo Sports:

Something Rosholt does not show off are his championship rings from Oklahoma State wrestling. Rosholt was part of the incredibly dominant Cowboy teams that won four national championships in a row, from 2003-06. He was a four-time All-American and a three-time national champion in that time. Rosholt has carried those winning ways into MMA, where he is undefeated through five fights. After a win in the WEC, Rosholt will debut in the Octagon this weekend. It's a shame that he won't be able to bring his dog with them.

Oh, and also, we didn't show this part in the video, but here's his spare bedroom:

Jake Rosholt Has The Best Dog On The Planet [Cage Writer]
UFC Fight Night 17 Heads To USF Sun Dome In Tampa Fla. Feb. 7 [MMAMania]

Here's Bill Bramanti of South Chicago Heights, Ill., who asks the question; why waste a good coffin when you're not yet ready to die? Quote: "I actually fit, because I got in here." Pabst Blue Ribbon coffin: Creepy. And delicious.

Who were the ad wizards who came up with that one, you ask? One of them was Grant Pace, who is now a partner for the Boston public relations firm Conover, Tuttle & Pace, but at the time, in 1988, was a struggling copywriter for an advertising agency in St. Louis. Here he tells us how the Bud Bowl was created, about the two alternate endings to Bud Bowl I that never made it on the air (one shown to the left), and how they couldn't have done any of it without the quite possibly insane creators of Pee Wee's Playhouse.

DS: So how did the Bud Bowl come to be? Who invests millions in an ad campaign that features tiny beer bottles playing football?

GP: It was early in my career; I was a struggling copywriter in St. Louis working for an ad agency, DMB&B (D’Arcy Masius Benton & Bowles), which actually isn't there anymore. We were right in the shadow of the arch. I came in as a junior guy, and was working on the crappy accounts, like naming microwaveable pizza products. But we also had all of the Budweiser business. The Bud group was the group where all the cool people worked.

DS: What year was that?

GP: It was 1988; for the 1989 Super Bowl. I had created and sold a beer spot that everyone liked, and they brought me in to work on the Super Bowl campaign. August Busch III, who was running the company then, said that he wanted to "own the Super Bowl." This was before anyone was doing multiple spots, and we bought six; one at the beginning, one during each quarter and one at the end. So then we had to figure out, how are we going to own the game?

DS: Why the Bud Bowl?

GP: We had been working on some other stop-motion concepts, and wanted to stick with that. It had to be something that you had to follow. We wanted to do something with the bottles being alive, and just came up with this game between Bud and Bud Light, and you had to watch each segment to find out what happened. And indeed people did. I hear stories about Super Bowl parties, and how everyone got quiet when the Bud Bowl came on. They were talking during the game, but not during the commercial. It was one of the first integrated promotions. There were displays in stores with miniature football fields, Letterman lampooned us one night when he had Bob Costas on the show, saying "Beer bottles playing football; it's the end of civilization as we know it." Danny Sheridan at USA Today actually ran a line on it. It remains to this day the most successful promotion ever in the beverage industry.

DS: It was actual stop-motion photography, right?

GP: Yeah. To make the bottle move you took each one and cranked it by hand inch by inch; it took eight hours to create three seconds of actual footage. The six spots took six months. It was created by a company called Broadcast Arts, a bunch of bizarre animators from New York who were responsible for Pee Wee's Playhouse. They were geniuses at that; all the little things they did. You saw hippies in the stands as water bottles, a beer bottle wearing a rainbow wig, someone holding up a 'Bud 3:16' sign; all those little things you don't notice the first time you see it.

DS: What's the part of Bud Bowl I that most people seem to remember?

GP: One of the coaches, 'Beer Bryant.' He actually wore a little houndstooth hat.

DS: How did Bud Bowl I end?

GP: An 8-ounce bottle came in and kicked a field goal for Bud to win it. But that's not the original ending. Our first ending was, just before the kick, the refrigerator door opens and a hand reaches in and grabs two bottles. And you hear Bob Costas and Paul Maguire, who were the voices of the announcers, screaming "What happened? Someone call the police!" We showed it to August Busch and he was confused. "But how does it end?" He told us to go back and give it an ending.

DS: Was there another ending?

GP: Yeah, and this was our favorite. Right before the kick, the broadcast cuts away to the movie Heidi. It was in reference to the Heidi Bowl. That was the first time a client ever came around and high-fived me at a meeting. We all loved that ending.

DS: What happened?

GP: We couldn't get it by NBC. We took it to them, all excited, but we hadn't figured the the head of NBC was Michael Wiseman, who had also been in charge when the original Heidi Bowl occurred. I guess he still had a wound on his ass from that game. "You want to bring up the Heidi Bowl during our Super Bowl, on my network? No way, no how."

How did it go over initially?

Great. We moved a lot of beer. But looking back, it was quite a gamble. The 49ers played the Bengals that year, and fortunately the game went down to the wire. Our whole series of spots was built on keeping the viewer engaged until the end, and if the game was over at halftime, it might have been a disaster. Thank God it was a good game.

DS: What did you do next?

GP: That was the only Bud Bowl I worked on. I cashed out from the notoriety, and went and did the New York ad agency thing, with the corner office and all that. I really couldn't picture myself doing another one anyway; I had written every bad beer bottle football pun known to man.

DS: What are the weirdest ads you've ever produced?

GP: That had to be the stuff we did for an Australian company, SmartBeep. They made pagers, back when they were all the rage. They told us, "We don't care what you do, as long as the ads make the phones ring." So we came up with spots like the fart girl.

DS: What are your favorite Super Bowl ads of recent years?

GP: I really like the stuff that Emerald Nuts does, believe it or not. They strike a good balance between humor and message. And the Budweiser Clydesdales playing football; those are just fantastic. And this year Miller is using a series of one-second spots throughout the game, and I'm really interested to see how those will go over.

From MachoChip:

Lately, Wendy’s been tearing up the Japanese TV circuit with her talents. Which also include being able to unscrew a jar with her lips AND using those same lips to speak Japanese. We might be in love.

Not only have I discovered an awesome new talent, but we've also got our newest Waxing Off writer.

A Woman With A Mouth This Awesome Belongs On Television [MachoChip]

Drew Magary’s Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs, well, every Thursday afternoon during the NFL season. Drew’s new book, “Men With Balls,” featuring 100% new material, is available RIGHT FUCKING NOW in stores and online here. You can email Drew here. Read him during the week at KSK.

My wife is not a huge drinker. Which is great for me, since that means more gin for daddy. But it also means that, when I drink, I drink under her sober, watchful eye. And that means that, sometimes, I crack open a seventeenth beer during the game and get that look from her that says, “Now, really. Do you NEED another beer?”

Well, of course I need that beer. Sixteen beers made me feel fantastic. Surely, a seventeenth beer will only make me feel AWESOMER. But women don’t always understand that line of thinking. Typical.

That’s why I go to great lengths to replace my current beer with another beer without her noticing. That’s the advantage of drinking beer out of a can. A woman can never tell how much is left in there. SNEAKY. If I can replace one dead soldier with a full beer while she’s going to the bathroom or something, then I get to drink more without getting the shameful glance. Why, she might even congratulate me on my restraint. Nice.

Ah, but that fucking can opening sound. It always gives your alcoholism away, doesn’t it? Your lady could be 5 miles away. But open that can, and within five minutes she’s all like, “Are you having ANOTHER beer?” Uh, maybe. That’s why I’ve devised a way to quietly open a beer can for you, the NFL fan and functional boozer.

First, use your fingernail to gently pull up on the tab. Just a little. You don’t want to get the dreaded PSST sound. You just want the tab to be ready to pull. Next, take a dish towel (these should be abundant if you are married. If you are not married, use your sweatshirt or some other kind of thick material. Use the towel to cover the mouth of the can. Next, pull the tab ever so gently, so the air inside the can seeps out without a lot of noise. Keep pulling gently so that the mouth doesn’t pop open, so much as pry open.

Next, place your old empty beer can in the garbage can, but be sure to bury it under some the already existing garbage, so your lady doesn’t see it in the garbage and tally up how many you drank. Man, is that a buzzkill.

Congratulations. You’re thirtieth beer is now cleverly disguised as your twenty-ninth. SALUD!

VARSITY LETTERS
Live in New York? Then get your black ass to tonight's Varsity Letters reading. I'll be there. Bissinger will be there. Steinberg will be there. Alcohol will be there. Something explosive may very well happen, like me vomiting in the sink.

The Games

All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.

Five Throwgasms

Giants at Eagles: Last week, the Seahawks stripped the ball away from Donovan McNabb using what is quickly becoming my NFL defender move. I call it the “Lawnmower Strip”. It’s quite simple to do. Simply run up to the ball carrier while he is at the bottom of a pile. Then, dig your arm into his ribcage. Then, violently try and tear the ball away from his body. Do it right, and it will look like you are trying to start a lawnmower. It adds a touch of mayhem to any play that was whistled dead three minutes ago.

Packers at Vikings: Only rated this high due to severe homerism.

Colts at Steelers

Four Throwgasms

Titans at Bears: Collins vs. The Sex Cannon! It’s an erratic thriller!

Saints at Falcons: Outside of Dan Marino, there’s a distinct possibility that Matt Ryan is having the best rookie season an NFL QB has ever had. There’s a mindfuck for you.

Bills at Patriots

Three Throwgasms

Broncos at Browns: Brady Quinn’s coming out! He wants the world to know! Got to let it show!

Two Throwgasms

Ravens at Texans: Tight end Owen Daniels told reporters he’d like to be a weatherman when he’s done with football. He better get a littler blacker and a whole lot jollier.

Seahawks at Dolphins
Rams at Jets
Niners at Cardinals

One Throwgasm

Jaguars at Lions: I’m getting a little tired of those TGI Friday’s ads. I really don’t want to be sold steak fajita combo platters by some fat asshole who looks like he used to play bass for Crazy Town.

Panthers at Raiders: Little known fact for you Sunday Ticket subscribers: Ticket host Andrew Siciliano does not toggle between games by watching them. Instead, he relies on his fucking HUGE ears, which allow him to quickly pick up on something interesting happening in any NFL stadium across the continental United States.

Chiefs at Chargers

Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall

“Little Sister,” by Queens of the Stone Age. Hot chicks dancing in silhouette will never get old.

Embarassing Album I Once Owned That Will Not Fire You Up

“Back For The Attack,” by Dokken. Actually, I’m not all that embarrassed about owning this album. If you’re gonna own one Dokken album, this is the one. It’s got “Burnin’ Like A Flame” (Peep the video. They’re playing pool with their guitars! And acting like firemen! And playing skeleton guitar solos! That’s fucking RAWK!), “Standing the Shadows,” “Mr. Scary,” “Heaven Sent.” That’s 100% pure Dokkenness right there! No “Dream Warriors,” though. We’re the Dream Waaaaarriors! Don’t wanna dream NO MORE!

I’ve seen Don Dokken interviewed a couple times. He and Phil Mickelson have the exact same voice. Very high. Very goofy. Both these men sound exactly like Richard Pryor’s imitation of a white person.

“Yeah, come on, peckerhead! Come on, you fucking joikoff! SONOFABITCH, COME ON!”

Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
Tony Romo. Jesus, how long does it take to come back from a broken pinkie? People drafted you near the end of the first round or the top of second, Mr. Jessbanger. They invested a lot in you. And you repay them by pussying out because your little tea-sipping finger isn’t quite up to snuff? YOU DISGUST ME, ROMO. Rush Limbaugh says you’re clearly just another Mexican immigrant looking for a worker’s comp handout!

Bonus note to Willis McGahee, who was activated last week and then proceeded to NOT CARRY THE BALL FUCKING ONCE. If you aren’t gonna play, THEN DON’T SUIT UP, FUCKFACE. Go make babies or something, you fuck.

Five Potential Key Injuries
-Willis McGahee (knee)
-Derek Anderson (equine testicle castration)
-Gus Frerotte (other shoe dropping)
-Travis Henry (overly viscous urine)
-Ted Ginn (hairy liver)

Suicide Pick Of The Week
Last week’s suicide pick of the Bears was correct, which makes me 6-3 for the year. Off the board now are the Jets, the Giants, Chicago, Jacksonville, Green Bay, Pittsburgh, San Diego, Buffalo, and Detroit. We again choose both a team for your suicide pool and an actual way of committing suicide. This week’s pick? Arizona, and intentional hypothermia. Okay, so what you do is, you soak all your clothes in ice water. Then you climb to the top of a very tall mountain. And then you sit. Maybe listen to some music if you wish (may I suggest “Cold Feelings” by Social D?). Within a few hours or so, PRESTO! You’re a Mansicle. Enjoy!

Nazi Shark’s Vegas Lock Of The Week
Lots of sports sites, to demonstrate the arbitrary nature of gambling, like to have animals like monkeys pick games to see if they can outwit their human counterparts. There’s no reason we at Deadspin can’t also get in on the fun. So we’ve asked National Socialist German Workers’ Party member Rolf, who also happens to be a shark, to pick one game a week. Take it away, Nazi shark.

“This week, I like Atlanta getting 1 point at home against New Orleans. Hey, ever notice there are no great BLACK sharks? That’s because fried chicken can’t swim.”

2008 Nazi Shark Record: 1-6

Fire This Asshole!
Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? All year long, we’ll keep track of which coaches will almost certainly get fired at year’s end or sooner. And now, your updated chopping block:

Jim Haslett
Tom Cable
Mike Singletary
Marvin Lewis
Rod Marinelli
Herm Edwards
Norv Turner
Wade Phillips
Romeo Crennel
Gary Kubiak
Jack Del Rio

Time to bring big fat Romeo Crennel back into the mix. And let’s welcome newcomers Gary Kubiak and Jack “Keep Chopping” Del Rio to the list. Oh, this is not a good year for the suit-wearing coach set. Men’s Wearhouse revenues could fall by as much as 30%.

Gametime Snack Of The Week

Jack Link’s Flamin’ Buffalo Chicken Nuggets! I picked up a bag of these last week, because I’m a huge fan of meat in pouches. A couple of things here. First of, jerky of any kind is wayyy too expensive. You mean I gotta shell out six bucks for a bag of dried-out cow throat? Come on. What’s the markup on this shit? 40,000%? Beef jerky costs more per pound than fucking beluga caviar.

Anyway, to the nuggets. Chicken and/or turkey jerky is never a wise thing to purchase. But I don’t eat with my head. I eat WITH MY GUT. My huge, saturnine gut. So in my bag they went. When I got out of the store, I tore open the bag and gazed in. Inside the bag was one of those small pouches of silicate powder or something that is used to keep the meat “fresh.” You are not supposed to eat the silicate, or else you will die. So I find it somewhat ironic that my meat is kept fresh by way of poisonous substances.

As for the nuggets themselves. They tasted pretty much like a chicken wing that had been left out in a hotel pan 20 hours after they had been originally served. You know how old dark chicken meat kind of gets translucent? That’s what they looked like. They were also covered in a kind of buffalo paste. They looked like fox turds rolled in tomato paste.

I ate the whole bag in three seconds.

Halloween Candy Mea Culpa
Last week, I ranked Halloween candy in order like so:

1. Reese’s Cups
2. Snickers (Fun Size, not the minis. The minis are gay)
3. Butterfinger
4. M&M’s minibags
5. Mounds/Almond Joy
6. Nestle Crunch
7. Hershey Minis

This was an idiotic list, and I’d like to apologize to you for its publication. I’d also like to apologize to the following candy bars: Kit Kat, Twix, Take 5, Caramello, ReeseSticks, Reese’s Crispy Crunchy Bar, Reese’s FastBreak, Nestle Crunch With Caramel, and no doubt countless others. I’m so sorry, you sweet delicious candies. You deserved better from a very fat man.

One-Sentence Excerpt From Men With Balls
"And, at least once a month, order a male hooker to your apartment, pretend to like him (and, if you do like him, pretend that you are pretending to like him), kiss him once, and then beat the ever-loving shit of him while crying your eyes out."

Gametime Beer Of The Week

Yuengling cans! Yuengling makes its return to the Jamboroo this year, because I just love it that damn much. Ah, the Yuengling can. So cheap. So highly quaffable. You are a gift from the heavens on par with EZ-Pass, or Christina Ricci’s old rack.

I particularly enjoy cold canned beer this time of year. It’s getting colder outside now, and I have to tell you that there is nothing finer than going to some party, grabbing a can of cold beer, going out on the patio without your jacket on, and getting hammered while freezing your ass off. I can’t explain it. I adore it. Bonus points if you smoke. I may not smoke myself, but I appreciate the peaceful feeling that comes with lighting up outside in 30-degree weather. That is one cozy way to get lung cancer.

I’d move to Yukon Territory just to drink outside in the cold all year long. It just feels so right. So very tribal. Especially if you’ve got an outdoor fire to stand in front of. Ever do that? Heaven. I could drink, in the cold, in front of an outdoor fire for 17 hours straight. I don’t even need other people there to do it. I can just sit there, staring at the flames, drinking myself into oblivion as my eyebrows get singed off.

We should all do that tonight. If you’re at Varsity Letters tonight, do me a favor and start a big fucking fire in a trash barrel outside the bar. It’s the Lower East Side, so no cop will give a shit. Bring all the canned beer and weed you can. We’ll make it a happening. God, I love beer.

Random FKS-Style Tidbit
I had lentil soup for lunch the other day. Because I’m gay, you see. I am no longer allowed to have lentil soup for lunch anymore. Because lentils apparently cause my anus to dispel clouds of vapor so nauseous that you instantly disintegrate when you come into contact with them. Holy shit, were those some bad farts. Worse than my legendary zucchini bread farts Ever had a fart that smelled so terrible, you started breathing with your mouth to avoid smelling it? Only that made it worse because you felt like you could sort of taste the fart?

I kept letting out these farts, one after the other, each one more horrifying than the last. Of course, I found this hilarious. My wife? Not so much. Every time I let out a whopper, I started laughing my ass off. I even made a face while I while was doing it, like, “HOLY SHIT! HERE COMES ANOTHER ONE! YOU THOUGHT IT WAS OVER, DIDN’T YOU?! NO WAY, LADY! FRUUUUHHHH!” Soon I was on the floor, unable to contain either my laughter or my own fumes. My wife left the room in disgust.

Can’t say I blame her. Anyway, might want to skip the lentil soup.

Robert Evans’ MVP Watch!
Time to start thinking about who the leaders are for the NFL’s MVP award. So every week, legendary Hollywood producer Robert Evans will join us to give us his assessment. Take it away, Mr. Evans.

“Baby, always stick to your guns. Like the time I nailed Barbara Stanwyck. Sexy? You bet! Feisty? Like no other. But you don’t tame a tiger by laying down! No way I was compromising my principles to get old Little Rob a chance to play in the sandbox. Leave it ol’ Evans to show that little hussy how a real man takes control. Handcuffs? You know it. Candle wax? Now we’re talking.

“Your front-runner for the NFL’s MVP thus far is Chris Snee of the Giants. About time an offensive lineman was considered for this award. I also understand Snee is married to Tom Coughlin’s kid. Wonder if the little Coughlin girl is as much a fan of discipline as her old man. Now that’s a wild animal Evans could chain up!”

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Lions Fans

Blazing Saddles. In honor of our new Sheriff Bart, who worked up an old Number 6 on the Republican Party. The genius of Blazing Saddles is the fact that it was the first comedy to poke unrelenting fun at racism. Because racism is so fucking stupid, it’s difficult not to find it somewhat hilarious. At least, that’s always been my feeling about it. Save for Gene Wilder’s character, every white person in the movie is both racist and a blithering idiot. Just like in Tennessee!

There’s one serious moment in Blazing Saddles. It happens when Gene Wilder wakes up in his prison cell and sees Cleavon Little on the other side.

Bart: Are we awake?

Waco Kid: We’re not sure… are we… black?

Bart: Yes, we are.

It’s that last line that always stuck with me. It’s the only sincere line in the whole movie, and it’s why a movie like Blazing Saddles does more to debunk racist ideas than some dipshit award movie like fucking “Amistad” or something. Plus, it’s got rape jokes. And who am I to argue with that?

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
“How is education supposed to make me feel smarter? Besides, every time I learn something new, it pushes some old stuff out of my brain. Remember when I took that home winemaking course, and I forgot how to drive?”

Halftime Masturbation Kit
-For the guys: KSK commenters direct you to the bridal lingerie collection at 3wishes.com. (NSFW) Pay specific attention to the “train thong,” which is like a veil for your girlfriend’s backside. I’m a big fan of cheaply-made, ornate decorations for a woman’s asscrack. Trains, bows, ruffles, lace, chain mail, velour, link sausage. As long at the cheeks remain exposed, you really can’t go wrong when it comes to accessorizing that part of the body. I’ve always said that Spike TV should run a show every night at 11PM called “chicks in thongs,” which would consist of nothing but women running around in thongs like this. I’m pretty sure that’s acceptable for cable, and that it would draw roughly 147 million male viewers a night. In fact, fuck it. We need a thong channel. Why does this channel not exist, yet Oxygen does? You cable operators make me sick.
-For the gals: Half-naked pics of actors Sean Faris and Shawn Ashmore. Shawn, have you ever tried, you know, NOT being a mutant?

Your Motivational Pregame Quote For The Weekend
“I want that land so badly… I CAN TASTE IT.”

-Hedley Lamarr

Enjoy the games, everyone.

LSU fans keep emailing me saying, "When are you going to link our quarterback playing beer pong?" That's what's great about LSU fans. Other teams (cough, Notre Dame, cough) are outraged by their quarterback engaging in a little Beer Olympics, LSU fans are just upset that their quarterback isn't playing beer pong with whiskey and that there aren't hot girls in the photo playing alongside Lee. Undoubtedly that's because the winsome lasses of Baton Rouge are at the other end of the table "distracting" Lee by bending over and showing their cleavage as he attempts to throw. Last year Lee was a redshirt freshman behind Mike Flynn and the batshit crazy Ryan Perrilloux, now he's a beer pong all-star treating sorority houses as a 24-hour buffet.

Laissez les bon temps roulet Jarrett Lee, laissez les bon temps roulet.

Beirut or beer pong, either way, great game [The Big Lead]

Leslie J. "Bomber" Marr, 57, could face felony DWI and aggravated unlicensed operation of a motor vehicle charges because of prior arrests and convictions in drinking-and-driving cases, said Whitehall Police Chief Richard LaChapelle. The electricity-powered Cruzin Cooler that Marr was riding contained 14 beers, the chief said.

Because I think that the Cruzin Cooler is a great invention, I went to their official site and discovered that, yes, they do make a Cincinnati Bengals model. As if there would be any doubts on that.

But back to the story. Money quote:

Marr was also cited for operating an uninsured motor vehicle. "They tell us he's been riding around town on that cooler for years," Kortright said. "You can't cruise around on your cooler if you're intoxicated."

If he would have had Snow Man running interference as usual, they never would have caught him..

Man Driving Motorized Cooler Faces DWI, Other Charges [The Post-Star]
Cruzin Coolers Official Site

See, your normal draft beer is usually 4% alcohol, while the light beer is typically 3.4% alc... aw hell, you probably already know this. You probably had the poster in your dorm room or fishing shanty. Consumer advocates are not amused:

"Wow, $8.50 for low-octane beer," said Michael Shames, a consumer advocate who heads the Utility Consumers' Action Network in San Diego. He compared the move to that of oil companies, which have been accused of reducing octane in gas.

For It's 1, 2, 3.2 At The Old Ballgame [San Diego Union-Tribune]