Remarkably, it's only the 15th official death at the Pamplona bull run since 1924. Capuchino—a brown angry fellow who comes from a farm notorious for its feisty bulls—fell down early in the run and got separated from the rest of the pack, which apparently is not a good thing. He became disoriented and aggressive, began charging erratically, and in the process gored three others and injured six more because he's a freaking bull.

He's probably dead at the hands of some swishy matador by now, but at least he chalked one up for his side on the way out.

Man gored to death by bull in Pamplona run [Telegraph]
Mess With The Bull, You Get The Horns (And Killed) [Friends of the Program]

I actually popped by Pamplona in 1996 on one of those post-college Eurail adventures where you get to basically bar hop through five countries in three weeks and sleep in bug-infested shitholes. You know: "world travel." My cultural remnants from Pamplona: one souvenir red scarf, an Enrique Iglesias T-shirt, and the sticky smell of jamon in my hair. I wussed out on actually running with the bulls at the last minute because during my first night of celebratory glug-glugging with strangers, I somehow managed to lose my shoe. I ended up walking to the bullfighting coliseum instead, just to watch all the idiots run in and then boo them with rest of the locals. (If you're in the coliseum first, that means you ran away from the bulls, an instinctive human reaction, but not a brave one in this world. So you get booed.) I made it through about half of the runners, but then passed out, waking up to find some young Spanish children had been taking turns throwing gum in my hair.

After it ended, I walked out of the coliseum and realized that, even though I had keys to some apartment/hostel/bed-and-breakfast, I had no idea where it was or what it looked like. This was not the cellphone era, so calling my travel-mates was out of the question. Instead, I thought the best course of action was to head to the police station. "They must deal with these types of issues all the time, " I thought. They did. They don't enjoy it. But, thankfully, one policeman who spoke about as much English as I spoke Spanish (Him: "Donde esta tus zapato?" Me: "No se!" Him: "Bad! "Me: " I know!") proceeded to walk me through the dirty cobblestone streets, door-to-door looking for my apartment/hostel/bed-and-breakfast.

We must have knocked on the door of 30 buildings as he walked me block-to-block, desperately trying to jog my alcohol-soaked brain about the approximate location. Finally, after two hours, we found it. "Thank you!" I said and I began to hand him all the francs, gilders, pesos in my pocket. He looked at me like I was handing him a pile of dirty toilet paper. He took it, called me a name, made a hand gesture, then walked back to the station.

Anyway, it starts tomorrow.

PHOTO: WSJ, of course.

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Thank you for your continued support of Deadspin. Gunk-a-gunka-gunka-gunka...

Thank you for your continued support of Deadspin. Zapatos aqui.

Some of you are not old enough to remember the Cabbage Patch Riots of 1983, a dark time in our history when lawlessness ruled; where roving gangs of middle-aged women in housecoats would beat you senseless for a children's doll. Above is one of my favorite videos of all time, in which, at about the 40-second mark, a desperate clerk climbs atop his department store counter and threatens rampaging shoppers with a baseball bat.

I hope that you survived today unscathed. At least one poor Wal-Mart employee did not.

At a Long Island Wal-Mart, an employee was trampled and killed by onrushing shoppers this morning when they opened the doors.

Wal-Mart Stores Inc. in Bentonville, Ark., called the incident a "tragic situation" and said the employee came from a temporary agency and was doing maintenance work at the store.

"He was bum-rushed by 200 people," co-worker Jimmy Overby, 43, told the Daily News. "They took the doors off the hinges. He was trampled and killed in front of me. They took me down too. ... I literally had to fight people off my back."

An indication that the economy is improving, or that bargains are more precious than ever? My theory is that people are just pricks.

But if you're one of those lucky kids who scored a Cabbage Patch Kid on Christmas morning, please pause for a moment to recall your parents' great sacrifice. Ask nicely and perhaps they'll show you their scars.

Cabbage Patch Riots [YouTube]
Wal-Mart Worker Does After Shoppers Knock Him Down [ABC News]

I think I'm missing some subtle wordplay here. Why would they call him Mr. Testi...oh you clever Spanish devils you. Mr. Testis is the mascot for the San Fermin Festival.

Am I the only person who wishes we could go in the way back machine and hear Eric Dickerson report from the sideline about Mr. Testis?

Meet the San Fermin Festival Mascot: Mr. Testis [Machochip]

And this year I was not disappointed; as nine people were gored or trampled in Pamplona on Sunday alone, which is only the second day of the eight-day "festival."

The Red Cross said two of the runners were gored by bulls, and one was taken to Virgen del Camino Hospital for treatment of a wound to his right thigh that will require surgery.

Aside from writing some spiffy lyrics to their national anthem, I don't mean to tell Spain their business. But isn't it time someone stepped in and ended this bullfighting business once and for all? Why torture big, dumb animals in the name of sport? (Insert Oakland Raiders comment here).

But far from being phased out, bullfighting, and the running of the bulls, seems here to stay. They're even trying to organize a ladies' division. With cows. And I have to admit that when they get around to it, the kids' division Running of the Bunnies will be kind of cute.

Women Demand Female Pamplona Bull Run, With Cows [Yahoo News]
Nine Runners Injured In San Fermin Running Of The Bulls [Expatica]
Estonia Dominates Wife Carrying Championships [Yahoo News]