"Bark At The Moon," by Ozzy Osbourne. This video terrified me as a child. I dunno if they hired Rick Baker to do the werewolf makeup or something, but Werewolf Ozzy haunted my night terrors. It's a very convincing outfit. In fact, I have little doubt that when Ozzy was in the costume, he took a handful of Quaaludes, then ran out into a London park and slaughtered and ate a visiting family from Luton. You and I both know he was more than capable of such things.


By the way, old Ozzy doesn't look that much different from Benny Hill. Look at him in the Victorian getup. All you need is Yakety Sax and him slapping an old bald dude and it would be indistinguishable from the real thing.

Bonus Scary Ozzy Osbourne Video!

"Shot In The Dark," by Ozzy Osbourne. Again, I found this video terrifying as a child, which proves that children can be scared by virtually anything. It's true. Just walk up to any child right now and fake like you're gonna punch them. Totally freaks them out. Kids are dumb like that.


Anyway, this video is fucking hilarious. That poor, innocent concertgoer. Why is she having such bad headaches? Why does she seem so afraid? Why does she suddenly have black nail polish? MY GOD, OZZY IS POSSESSING HER AND TURNING HER INTO AN ADVERTISING MURAL! HE'S PURE EVIL! Go to the 1:30 mark to see Ozzy get out of his throne (shaped like Ozzy as a demon!) and make evil hand gestures. It's tremendous. Then go to the 3:50 mark, where the girl becomes a demon. THAT'S GREAT HUSTLE. SATAN CONTROLS TIME OF POSSESSION ONCE AGAIN.

By the way, both these songs are still great.

Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
Ryan Mathews, who totally cockteased us all into believing he was the can't-miss rookie fantasy back when Jahvid Best was totally the right pick. It's shitty enough when a player you pick high goes bust right away. But it's even worse when that player is a rookie back, because rookie backs elicit more wet dreams than any other kind of back. He's a rookie. You don't know anything about him. HE COULD VERY WELL BE A FUCKING GOD. In fact, you've most assuredly counted on it. You drafted him, and imagined him breaking out and tearing the league limb from limb. Then he gets hurt in Week 2 and some other dickhead has already picked Mike Tolbert off of waivers and FUCK!!!!!


God damn you, Ryan Mathews. You are a whore.

Suicide Pick Of The Week
Last week's pick of Green Bay was correct, making me 2-0 on the season. Off the board go the Titans and Packers. We once again pick a team for your suicide pool and something that makes you WANT to commit suicide. This week's pick? Washington, and surly bicyclists who say "on your left" before passing you. I know this is done as a courtesy, which is fine. But some bikers are REAL dicks about it, especially cocksuckers who wear biking team jerseys when you know damn well they don't belong to any biking team. Like you're an asshole for being on the same path as them. Oh sorry, Lance. I'm sorry I interrupted your fucking Tour de Asshole while you were biking back from work. One day, I will kick your bike down. And you'll still be stuck in your toe clips, and I will beat you to fucking death with a hammer. And I'll be sure to say ON YOUR LEFT just before bashing into the side of your stupid fucking head. Eat shit and die.


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 the Chiefs getting 3 points at home against the 49ers. I'd like congratulate Tea Party candidate Christine O'Donnell for her primary win in Delaware. I particularly like her stand against masturbation, which she claims is adultery and a sin. I agree, mostly because I cannot masturbate myself. I can't even lick my own genitals, the way a dog or cat might be able to. All I have is this stupid fucking fin, which isn't anywhere near long enough to do some quality fapping. You ever dry hump coral? IT'S NOT FUCKING FUN. ALL MASTURBATORS SHOULD BE SHOT AND GASSED, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER."

2010 Nazi Shark Record: 0-1-1

Great Moments In Poop History
Reader Mike sends in a poop story I call POOPCORN:

My college roommate's parents have a house at the Jersey Shore. One Sunday a few weeks back I had just finished stuffing my maw with a Wawa hoagie when I felt the onset of bubbleguts.

About halfway back to the house it hits. I feel pregnant and I'm sweating. I've got one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding my buttcheeks shut. I've never had it this bad. One time I had to stop a bus full of church youth group kids en route to a ski trip so I could crap down the side of a mountain and wipe my ass with a handful of snow, but this is far worse. I'm worried I won't make it. I t's agony, but I get home unsoiled and sprint to the front door.

It's locked.

I go around back. It's locked, too, but I know there's a key hidden in the crawlspace. I jump down, open the latch and root around but it looks like when we took out the boogie boards we jostled the fake rock the key was under and now I can't find it. There's no time to search. This is happening. I resign myself to the fact that I'm about to ruin a borrowed beach towel.

Then I remember that I've got a half-empty bucket of caramel corn from the boardwalk the night before sitting in my car. I hobble back to grab it and as I reach the car I feel something I haven't felt since middle school (don't judge me): I'm actually shitting my pants. Now I
go for broke and sprint for the outside shower while my ass gets slicker and slicker. I pull the lid off the bucket, slam it down on the ground and squat, pausing just long enough to admire the little brown Rorschach blot I've left on the liner of my swim trunks. I let loose an ass blast and it careens out of my colon like a brick made of thunder. It's sloppy and awful but when I'm done I use the shower to clean myself and my shorts and it looks like the crisis has been mostly averted.

That's when I realize I've got about four pounds of gooey buttpaste in a popcorn tub that I've got to get rid of. I would throw it in the garbage but my roommate's parents are organic fascists and check the trash every night to make sure he's not eating fast food.


Really? Jesus. I'd murder my parents and buy new ones if I were that guy.

So I calmly place the lid on it and set it down in the car with me to deposit at a dumpster behind the CVS. You haven't known indignity until you've safety belted a turd into the front seat of a family sedan.

Anyway, I make it back to the beach and everyone asks where I was. I just shrug and say I went for a walk. Nobody notices the stain on my bathing suit and I throw it away later that night when my roommate and I stop for burgers on the way home. Victory!


Aw, good for you. But you missed one crucial detail: Did the popcorn tub have dividers? Because that would have been unpleasant.

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:

Tom Cable
Eric Mangini
Chan Gailey
Wade Phillips
Andy Reid
Brad Childress
John Fox
Mike Singletary
Ken Whisenhunt
Tom Coughlin


Reader Robbie writes in:

Can you PLEASE put Josh McDaniels in the Fire This Asshole! section? The category could be named after him for fuck sake.


Sorry, Robbie. Josh won last week, so you may be in for another year of Josh purging talented players from the roster in order to assemble a football team composed of 22 David Ecksteins. JOSH ONLY WANTS GUYS THAT WANT TO PLAY FOOTBALL.

Gametime Snack Of The Week


Cold cuts. I buy a pound and a half of Virginia ham from the store every week, and it takes a Herculean amount of restraint on my part to not eat the entire bag the second I get home. I could eat a moving truck full of sliced ham. I'm not even sure my brain registers it as food going into my body. If I go to a party and there are rolls of ham and turkey sitting on a platter, and they've been left out for nine hours, I'll happily devour all of them.

I've been thinking lately about trying to rank lunch meats in order of superiority, but that's the kind of debate that could end up starting massive lunch meat flame wars that you want no part of. One person puts sandwich pepperoni over genoa salami, then some douche actually throws out the term "gabbagool," and then all hell breaks loose. Plus, there are 97 different types of turkey alone. They have turkey pastrami, Cajun turkey, cracked pepper turkey, buffalo chicken wing turkey, grape turkey. Well, they don't have grape turkey. BUT THEY WILL, AND I WILL TRY IT AGAINST ALL MY INSTINCTS TELLING ME NOT TO.


By the way, I bought liverwurst the other day for the first time in a long time. It was like pate, only cheaper and dirtier and full of more assholes. It was awesome. I will die of nitrate poisoning, and I do not regret it.

Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week


CHILKOOT! For the second week in a row, we bring you one of Canada's finest awful beers. I swear the name Chilkoot sounds like a racial epithet. I love words and phrases that sound like racial epithets but aren't: quahog, kipper, chinook salmon. Most seafood, really.

Anyway, Chilkoot ("Worth freezin' for!") comes to us from the Yukon territory, where the men are men and the women are actually female seals who provide needed warmth and surprisingly human-like vaginal canals. Reader Connor:

We drank nothing but this and coffee for two weeks while fishing in the Yukon a few years back. The label says "Brewed in small batches", but thanks to the fancy font it looks like it says "biatches". This of course led to two weeks of "brewed by small bitches" and other midget jokes.


Well played. I will never go that far north, ever. I've done Minnesota before. That's really as far away from the warm spots on Earth as I'd like to be. There's no reason to be colder than that. Ever.

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, my favorite for the NFL's MVP is Matt Schaub of the Texans! It's 2010, and I couldn't be happier about the career resurgence of my good friend, MICKEY ROURKE! Talented? YOU BET! Wild? YOU KNOW IT. I once saw him pull a Chihuahua out of Carre Otis! And he said he had another one stashed in there for later!


"I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but Mickey has had some work done over the years. Nose? You bet! Forehead helium injections? Oh yes. But a lot of people stare at his face without ever looking at his hands! If you ever look at the Rourkester's hands, you will be SHOCKED. They look like the claws of Dragor The Magnificent, which was a fantasy project Billy Friedkin and I never got off the ground. They're magnificently awful hands. They look like they just handled a human heart! He could tear open a tiger's abdomen with just one swipe!

"Anyway, one night Rourkester and I are out at the Whisky A Go Go. He loves those rock and roll clubs. And this lovely dancer type comes up to greet us. Well, one things leads to another and soon we're back at Rancho de Evans for some adult enjoyment. Whips, chains, monkeys… YOU KNOW THE DEAL. And Mickey turns to me and he says, ‘Hey Evans, watch this.' And he takes one of his big craggly, hawklike fingers and jabs it right into this woman's breast! She cries out in pain and suddenly there's blood and saline just gushing right out onto my Egyptian cotton tandem fuck hammock! Mickey had pushed her nipple clean through her breast! I didn't even know that could be done! I asked him why he did it, and you know what he said? ‘Evans,' he told me, ‘Since I got that Academy Award nom, I feel like I can do anything. Even poke that girl's nipple clean through her tit.' AND HE DID! You talk about an inspirational story! Only in Hollywood, gang!"


Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Rams Fans

Federal Hill. This is tiny movie from the early 90's, the kind of movie I was able to watch back then because I didn't have a wife or kids, so I could waste oceans of time watching every goddamn movie that ever came out. Anyway, check out the description from YouTube of the above clip:

World renowned actor Jimmy Landi gives an oscar winning performance in Federal Hill. A movie directed by Michael Corrente. Nicky Torturro is also shown in this clip, but his acting is far overshadowed by Mr Landi.


First of all, that entire first sentence is a lie. No one knows who Jimmy Landi is. Nor did he win an Oscar. I also like that the submitter completely shat on Nicky Turturro. It's clear to me that submitter was either Jimmy Landi, or a young relative of Jimmy Landi. Come on, Vinny Landi. Admit what you did.

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
" It's not easy to juggle a pregnant wife and a troubled child, but somehow I managed to fit in eight hours of TV a day."


Halftime Masturbation Kit
-For the guys: 100 pictures of women's asses. I suppose I should tell you it's NSFW, but shouldn't you already know that from the description?
-For the gals: Reader TexasGal submits US goalie Tim Howard naked. Peter King likes those ribs.

Enjoy the games, everyone.