He's a Man at Age 3

Three year old Brady Arneson's hairdo has been named best in Minnesota by Hockey Moms magazine. The Red Wing boy's mullet was the first place winner in the magazine's annual mullet contest. Clearly he is a long way from the lucious locks of Uncle Jesse, but this hockey head is not to be over looked. In the years to come he can be sure to see the ladies falling all over him. For this reason, we give him honorary membership to the status of Man First Class. Usually this honor is recieved only after a boys nightime fantasy involving his babysitter after which he awakes to wet sheets and sticky thighs. However, it is clear that this kid has testicles have developed well beyond his years and for that we commend him. Party on Garth.

I'm Not A Liar

So, the Minnesota Daily ran a story about my lovely neighbors today. I was freakin spot on.

My favorite part is that they were "going over some business."

Men Are from Mars, Women Are From Synchro

Two years ago, my girlfriend Bunny, swam for the University of Minnesota's Synchronized Swimming team. That year, they did quite well and made it to the national tournament held at Standford in Palo Alto, CA. One of these nights while she was away, some friends and I attended a concert downtown at First Ave. Although the immortal Dick Valentine forgot half of the lyrics in a drunken stupor, the Electric Six played an amazing show that night - but I digress.

Young and in love, I was dearly missing my darling Bunny. Therefore, in preparation for my night out with the boys, I donned one of the sweatshirts she had left behind (yes fair readers, even I have times of weakness). The this blue zipup hoodie in question read synchro across the front in red and white letters -this is important - and it would have been quite fashionable were it not two sizes too small. This act of blatant clingyness I will admit is quite feminine. Looking back, I completely agree that this is the reason I still lack the ability to grow any form of respectable facial hair however, the hilarity that ensued was well worth it.

After the show, we ran to the bus station to catch the #16 back to campus. As those of you familiar with Metro Transit in Minneapolis know, this bus stops at the Metrodome on it's way to the University. Lucky for us, the state basketball tournament was going down that night and the bus was quickly overflowing with inebriated high schoolers. One girl in particular seemed to be spinning in her sat as her friend held her upright.

Sitting there, her eyes became affixed on me. I averted my eyes. Looking back once or twice, it appeared she could not take her eyes off of me. Now having dashing good looks comparable to George Clooney, I have become accustomed to this so being nice, I smiled and said hello.

With a face that looked like the was struggling to crack a smile over the incredible urge to vomit, she asked, "What does your sweatshirt say? Is that shynche?"

I held it out from my chest so she could better see it and replied, "No, it's synchro."

"Oh," she said. After another minute or two she piped up again, "Are you guys in the tournament?"

Astounded that someone other than myself and those that participate in the sport knew that there was a synchro tournament going on, I answered, "Yeah, they made it to the finals tomorrow!"

"Wow," she said slowly. Then after a long pause,

"Where is synchro?"

I nearly blew snot all over myself. Thinking quikly I managed chorlte out, "Umm, it's uuhhh... up north, kinda. Up by Grand Marais."

At this point the Rusty and the other guys I was with were doing there best to keep thier fits of laghter to themselves.

"Are there a lot of kids in your class?"

"No not too many." We went on like this for the remainder of our ride together; me telling her about the wonders of the quaint town of Synchro, MN and her comparing those things to her own small home town. It was magical.

When our stop came around, we said goodbye and wished each other luck in the games to come. Walking down the aisle, Rusty loudly asked, "Hey Art, are you headed back to synchro next weekend?"

"Umm, yeah I think so..."

"Do you think you could you drop me off in Football on your way up?"

Service at the Altar of Brew

Friday night was the second Spring Game under the Tim Brewster Regime. This fan saw some definite potential in the squad to top the stunning one win season from last year.

The good:

Adam Weber. Weber showed more poise in the pocket, looking unhurried as he went through is progressions. He frequently checked down from his primary receiver targets (generally Tray Herndon or Ralph Spry), and instead would hit guys like Mike Kuznia (I have no idea who that is, a walk on of some sort). He also completed a high percentage of his passes without the aid of Spiderman-like Eric Decker who is lighting it up for the Gopher baseball team.

Containment. The defense played a more laid back style under new DC Roof than that of the previous years' unit. They allowed the under passes, swarming to the ball and generally were successful in gang tackling. Probably the best mark in my book goes to the linebackers who showed much improved speed in containing the outside sweeps and bootlegs.

Marcus Sherels: My defensive/special teams MVP. He logged time with the Junkyard Dogs as a corner back, breaking up a pass and generally harassing the second string wide outs. T-Mort and Clint Brewster were constantly frustrated by the outside corners, forcing them to go up the middle and enabling Kevin Mannion to make a solid interception, and barely drop another. Sherels may have solidified his spot as the go-to return man this fall, ripping off a 60 yard kick off return and gobbling up another 20 on a punt return. Finally, as a gunner playing opposite Trumaine Brock, he was able to help force a fumble on Harold Howell, is main competitor at the returner position.

The Bad:

Ball Control: Last year, the Gopher offense was notorious for setting its defense up to fail. Whether it was newbies like Weber lobbing the ball in the air when hurried, or grizzled veterans like Amir Pinnix coughing up the ball on the goal line, three or four games which had potential to swing towards the Gophers slipped away on the backs of turnovers. The spring game did not do much for this fan's optimism. Although Weber held onto the ball, Harold Howell brought back the memories from last year's home finale, putting the pig skin on the ground upon his first opportunity to handle a punt. Duane Bennett, the would-be starting running back was also lackadaisical with the ball, allowing another turnover. Considering this was a performance against a defense which ranked near the bottom in turnover margin last year, things need to improve markedly if the Gophers are to seek out a Big 10 victory this year.

Special Teams: Always the Achilles Heel of Mason teams, Tim Brewster talked up his NFL special teams credentials to anyone that would listen coming into the Minnesota job. As Brewster innovated with names, renaming them his "special forces", Joel Monroe continued a long tradition held by place kickers who should be riding the short bus not kicking in D1 football. Missing three kicks, two from inside the 35, Monroe needs to regain his form from last season when he hit a 50+ yarder to crush the Kinnick crowd at halftime. Coverage on kick returns coverage looked loose as well, letting a former walk on bust a 60 yard return is unacceptable.

Overall, I came away from the night with mixed feelings. The "Gopher Nation" looked sparse, but there were plenty of recruits sprinkled among the faithful. Hopefully the top 20 recruiting class can inject some talent and enthusiasm to the program when they step on campus this summer.

paint that shit (maroon) and gold

so i totally jacked this site from Rusty's girl, but she won't mind. it's from Atmosphere's website promoting their new album. you can take a website and use graffiti to paint it gold. and i thought it was oh-so-appropriate for tonight.

never mind that it looks like a blind three old did it.

has anyone listened to Atmosphere's new album??? is it any good?

Spring Football

Congratulations to those of you who noticed the colors in honor of the 2008 University of Minnesota Golden Gophers spring game. The event starts at 5pm at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome with the inter-squad game kicking of at 7; admission is free. Come see the brand spankin' new Gopher jerseys in action and get the Brewmeister to sign your baby's head.

the manliest man of all

how could i have forgotten! Bear from Born Survivor has to be the manliest man of all. this guys eats sheep eyeballs, makes boats out of duct tape and drinks his own piss. plus, he is the sexiest man i've ever seen.

here's a video of my man Bear eating a live frog. awesome.

In the News: Aliens, Robots & Turkey Hunting.

That's right folks; looking back at the news this week, we have ourselves a great recipe for a Futurama Episode.

First off, in a lecture commemorating 50 years of the NASA space program at George Washington University, the great Steven Hawking gave his thoughts on the subject of extra-terrestrial life forms.

He answer question posed to about whether or not we are alone by saying - or typing rather, "Primitive life is very common and intelligent life is fairly rare." The astrophysicist and author of A Brief History of Time also commented that "some would say it has yet to occur on earth." What a jokester. Yes, Steven Hawking is convinced that there is life outside our on blue and green sphere however, he claims that those life forms would not have the mental capacity of a chiuaua.

Elsewhere, in the city of Phoenix, AZ, there was a UFO sighting on Monday. My best guess is that some extremely intelligent aliens received the broadcast of Hawkings speech, then used their highly evolved brains to go back in time to scare the fair people of Phoenix. Take that Mr. IQ of over 200.




In other news, Hilary Clinton managed to take a majority of votes in the Pennsylvania Primary on Tuesday. Experts are shocked at her persistence; they have agreed that her inner wiring should have blown a circuit sometime within the past month. Somehow she has managed to ensure another two weeks of the same old shit we're all tired of hearing about.



In our own fair state of Minnesota, in Sibley County, a nine year old boy was killed in a hunting accident. Authorities have reported that the father of the boy had told him to stay on the edge of a forested area while he went in and flushed out wild turkeys. Growing impatient, the boy followed his father into the woods. The father mistook the boys rustling behind him for the sound of a moving turkey and fired his twelve gauge shotgun in the boys direction. After calling 911 from his cell phone, the father carried his injured son out of the woods to where EMS could reach him. The boy was pronounced dead at the scene. The father had no valid hunting license.

Now I could go on about this for a whole post but I will try and keep my comments short. I am hunter; i enjoy hunting deer, rabbits and pheasant. I would one day hope to bring my young boy along for the expedition. But why on earth would you leave an eight year old boy alone with no hunters orange on his body whatsoever. And on what planet did you learn you hunters safety? Always be sure of your target and what is beyond. Sound familiar? It's careless people like you that make me question my position on gun control. May Hunter rest in peace.

Not For Those With Weak Stomaches

An interesting article came up on Digg today. A PopSci article chronicles the evolution of the most important piece of protection any man can wear. In light of Patrick Thorensen's near fatal (for his right nut, at least) slapshot to his gonads, the scientists at PopSci and Deadspin decided to take a look at the evolution of the cup.

First of all, I really hope the announcer of that game personally apologized to Thorensen (who will henceforth be called 'Thor' for being manly enough to take one to crotch for his team, even though it didn't help).

"They better be doing leg surgery on Thorensen...The ref is not going to blow his whistle unless he's in some sort of peril."

Don't you feel like an ass?

This shot gave all men who saw it that indescribable feeling in the pit of your stomach. It gives the word empathy whole new meaning.

But apparently, an INSANE ex-MLB player has developed a better cup that can withstand 90 mph fastballs right to the junk without giving an inch. I know that because I saw this video of the INSANE ex-MLB creator:

I'm not gonna lie. Thats impressive.

The original articles can be found here: PopSci, Deadspin

Moonshine!

With the weekend nearly upon us (I count Thursdays as a drinking day), I present to you the 10 manliest cocktails in the world (w/help from Holy Taco).

10. Irish Car Bomb
Why is it manly?: What’s manlier than slamming a pint of the world’s thickest stout mixed with a shot of whiskey? Knowing that if you don’t chug it fast enough, you’ll be downing chunks of curdled Bailey’s cream.
Recipe:
3/4 pint Guinness stout
1/2 shot Bailey’s Irish cream
1/2 shot Jameson Irish whiskey

9. Rusty Nail
Why is it manly?: I can’t put my finger on exactly why, but there’s something oddly macho about asking your girlfriend if she would like to sip on your Rusty Nail.
Recipe:
¾ oz. scotch
¼ oz. Drambuie

8. Snake Bite
Why is it manly?: Anytime a drink is compared to a snake sinking its fangs into you and depositing venom in your bloodstream, chances are, it’s probably pretty stiff.
Recipe:
1/2 pint lager, 1/2 pint cider - shot of black currant

7. Jagerade
Why is it manly?: To be honest, I don’t know if this is manly or just gross. Either way, a man can never get enough electrolytes.
Recipe:
8 oz chilled Gatorade energy drink
4 oz Jagermeister herbal liqueur

6. Gin and Juice
Why is it manly?: Snoop Dogg likes to drink this when there are bitches in his living room gettin’ it on until six o’clock in the morning, so that has to be worth something. Gin and juice was also the morning cocktail of soldiers and officers in WWII. That’s right, this is what you drank right before you killed a bunch of Nazis. You can’t say that about Malibu and pineapple.
Recipe:
2 1/2 ounces Gin.
1 oz. orange juice.

5. Nuclear Waste
Why is it manly?: This is the only thing Keith Richards drinks now. According to the man himself, “”Whiskey wasn’t agreeing with me anymore. The old body couldn’t take it. Brandy is a killer, and wine is best with food, so somehow I settled on this. Plenty of ice. Lovely.” Keith Richards is pretty manly, plus it reminds me of Chernobyl.
Recipe:
2 oz. premium vodka
1 oz. Sunkist or any orange soda
Plenty of ice

4. Tequila Sunrise
Why is it manly?:First off, it’s a breakfast cocktail. And secondly, “2 measures tequila” is short for, “as much tequila as your glass will hold.” It may look a little fruity but it’s about as tropical as a back alley in Tijuana.
Recipe:
2 measures Tequila
Orange juice
2 dashes Grenadine

3. The Original Sazerac
What makes it manly?: This cocktail takes the classic New Orleans recipe and adds—what else—a nice, healthy addition of Absinthe. Because if huffing rye whiskey doesn’t make you a man, mixing it with mythical psychadelic liquor that tastes like cough syrup will make sure everyone knows you have a penis.
Recipe:
1 tsp Sugar
1-1/2 oz Rye whiskey
1 Dash Herbsaint, Pernod or Absinthe (to coat the glass)
2 dashes Peychaud bitters
2 dashes Angostura bitters
1 Lemon peel twist

2. Martini
Why is it manly?: Well, it’s pretty much straight alcohol, with just enough vermouth to remind you that you’re not drinking disinfectant. Plus, James Bond drinks it, and he bangs lots of chicks and beats the crap out of dudes with names that describe a hideous disfigurement they have that also provides them with some sort of physical superiority.
Recipe:
2 1/2 oz Gin
1 1/2 tsp Dry Vermouth
1 Olive

1. Manhattan:
Why is it manly: You may say “it’s got a cherry, nothing with a cherry is manly.” Well, nibble on this: It’s notorious for being the favorite drink of the Italian Mafia, who are notorious for killing people. I’m not saying killing somebody makes you a man, but it’s probably not the best idea to call someone who just threw someone off a bridge a “cherry drinking pansy.”
Recipe:
*3/4 oz Sweet Vermouth
2 1/2 oz Rye whiskey
dash Angostura bitters
1 Maraschino cherry

Tits!

Two great pieces of news today.

First, T.O. made a cameo in a pornography that is being released under the name "Spring Break Ass". Said video is produced by the "Bang Brothers", a production company made famous for their "Big Tits, Round Asses" line of videos. Personally, I never really cared for these, they always insist on those awkward interviews up front, where the girl talks about how she likes to take it up the arse and be given "gifts" on her face. Now, I might be incredibly sheltered, but in my time on this planet I have rarely had the opportunity to meet a woman who enjoyed such acts. Also, this particular company insists on zooming in on the guys face during. Gross.

Secondly, Erin Andrews is set to be the newest "sideline reporter" for the National Spelling Bee. I can't wait.

Woman! Make Me a Snadwich!

In honor of National Administrative Professionals Day, I would like to take a moment to discuss tactfulness. It appears to me that a majority of the testicularly gifted population are somewhat lacking in this category. Now I'm not being sexist by saying that all receptionists are women - but they are, so maybe I am. With the exception of Jan's sweet singing Hunter, I do not personally know any man carrying out these responsibilities. That said, lets get on with it.

Just today, while installing a new dishwasher in the office, our lovely administrative assistant, we'll call her Pam (see Rusty's current Babe of the Week), was observing a coworker and myself as we worked. She was eager to help in any way so that she could get back to washing dirty coffee mugs and those little plastic octagons that sit below the coffee makers to catch all the rouge drips. When we came upon a flat head screw and all we had were a phillips and a needle-nose pliers, Pam offered to run and find the appropriate tool. At this my coworker piped up and said, "Don't bother. By the time you get back, I'll be done with it."

With a dejected look on her face, she responded only with a quite, "Oh." She then sat down and remained quiet for the remainder of the operation.

Now I understand that this was a completely resonable response to give. The message was clear and he was only trying to save her a trip to the tool chest. It is the delivery of this message that cvould have used some work. Perhaps the situation could have been better handled with a simple, "I think this will work" or "No, but I could use a beer." Showing better rapport with women will ot only increase their willingness to help, but will also prevent the awful episodes of crankiness we all dread.

Now, I am not saying that we are all equal and need to be treated as such. Clearly this is untrue; men are the undisputed dominant sex of our species. But with great power comes great responsiblitiy. And who's gonna make me that sandwich when you guys have chased all the womenz away.

It's Tubby Time!

Royce White, indisputably the top basketball recruit out of the State of Minnesota in 2010 has committed to the Gophers.

Tubby Smith has provided a breath of fresh air for a Minnesota program which has long suffered from the mistakes of the past. Following the academic scandal under long time coach Clem Haskins, Dan Monson was brought in to right the ship. Unfortunately, suffering from both NCAA sanctions and his own inability to coach, the Gophers slipped from a perennial top 5 Big 10 team to the laughing stock of the Midwest.

This all changed last year when Athletic Director Joel Maturi took a secret flight to Lexington, Kentucky and came back to Minneapolis with one of the most well respected coaches in college basketball. The hiring of Tubby Smith instantly restored some of the lost credibility to the Gopher Basketball program, and also helped solidify Joel Mat's standing as the A.D.

Although the season ended with an anemic loss to Illinois in the Big 10 tournament semi-finals, Tubby has energized the Barnyard crew. Posting the first 20 win season in recent memory, coaches around the Big 10 have begun to acknowledge the fact that the Gophers will be contenders for the Big 10 title sooner, rather than later.

Tubby set out on the recruiting trail determined to bring in players to fit his system. He was able to haul in a top 20 recruiting class in his first year on the job, bringing in All Georgia Center Ralph Sampson III, and Canadian sharpshooter Devoe Joseph.

The commitment from Royce White kicks off the 2010 recruiting season on the right foot. If the Gophers can continue to stockpile talent, a ticket to the Big Dance can't be too far off in the future.

Lowered Expectations

So apparently in Montreal your team only has to barely squeak by the Bruins in Game 7 of the first round of the playoffs for you to riot in the streets. Talk about low expectations...

Hockey fans riot after win

bums

my encounter with bums. it goes like this.

i know i write for a manly blog all about manly things, but i can't carry four bags of groceries. i just can't. i blame it on my female anatomy. so i take four bags of groceries out of my car and put two of them on the other side of our "fence" (notice the quote marks). i walk back to get the two forgotten bags and a bum is walking away with them. WHAT?

now this is a ballsy move. walk into someone's lawn and steal their groceries when they know you are 20 feet away. real ballsy.

warning: look out for people like this. they will steal your groceries.

The Code

Since our blog is still in it's infancy, I think it is important to establish good habits at the beginning. With that said, I present the Code. The most important portions are below.

12. On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.

14. Women who claim they "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to pick a Buffalo wing clean.

18. While your girlfriend must bond with your buddies girlfriends with in 30 minutes of meeting them, you are not required to make nice with her gal pal's boyfriends- low level sports bonding is all the law requires.

20. When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may always ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing.

32. Never talk to another man in the bathroom unless you are on equal footing: both urinating, both waiting in line for all other situations an "I recognize you" nod will do just fine.

41. When using a urinal in a public restroom, a buffer zone of at least one urinal will exist at all times. If the only empty urinal is directly next to an occupied on, then you are still required to wait. (Exception: at a sporting event where a line has formed to use the pisser)

52. Masturbate often. (exception: if your roommate is due back within the hour)

61. No man shall ever keep track of, or count, the amount of beers he has had in a night.

Honk if you like boobs

College Humor has a great contest going on right now: America's Hottest College Girl 2008. Hurry, go ogle and vote on today's matchups.

Cops Busting Dealers is Pretty Manly

Let me preface this post with a statement. My neighbors might be HUGE drug dealers. I only say 'might be' because I don't want to get my ass sued. They drive Jaguars, Spyders, Beamers, and multiple crotch rockets. They leave their house on their cell phones only to return 7 minutes later with that little gleam in their eyes. They fucking EXCHANGE MONEY WITH STRANGERS ON THEIR GODDAMN PORCH. They're not subtle.

So this morning, as I'm writing the previous post, I heard an argument through my opened windows: "Dude, just get back in your fucking car and get the fuck out of here." The next thing, I heard some sirens, but didn't think anything of it. It is Minneapolis after all. People get their shit ruined with 2x4's by mobs in my neighborhood.

Then the thing that really got my attention: "Get your fucking hands on the steering wheel! Throw the keys out of the window!" And a second later: "Get on the fucking ground, NOW!" I looked out my window to see a cop with his gun drawn in my back yard, a guy in a car I'm assuming was trying to get away, and one of my neighbors on the deck sprawled out on his stomach. I'm awestruck. I'm not going to lie, I've been waiting for this day for over a year, ever since they kept me up til 4:30 in the morning by revving his motorcycle for literally a half-hour when I had a test the next morning.

As I'm soaking this in, another cop runs to the back yard as the original radios in "Yeah, we're responding to an armed robbery. One of the suspects had a gun. Apparently there was an argument between these two guys and one of them pulled a gun." So from what I put together, it is my opinion (no lawsuits) that the dealers neighbors angered one of their buyers or providers, who had come back to politely settle his disagreement with said neighbors, but pulled a fucking gun instead.

So then I run to the front door to see the scene outside. Eight police cars are blocking off the ends of the street, and cops are everywhere. The hotties on the roof across the street are told to get off their roof and go inside (they're a topic of an upcoming post) by a cop with a shotgun. I then went back up to my room because the Sarge and two other cops were talking right under my window and I could hear every word. " The one was talking smack to the other one. Then he started talking Arabic to those other fucks, probably telling them to hide shit." No, its not racist or agist or whatever you think. It was probably true. After Sarge decided to have a couple cops go in and subdue all the people hiding in the house, they moved out. I went back to the front door to watch the rest of the show.

I honestly thought SWAT was gonna show up. These cops were serious as shit. No one was wasting their time with pussy little pistols, everyone had at least a shotgun. One cop was crouched behind my roommate's car with an assault rifle. The cops with shotguns were hiding behind the trees in my front yard ready to blast the living shit out of anything that moved. By now, the construction workers building the next Hooverville across the street had stopped working and were also watching.

Unfortunately, nothing moved. They threw three guys in squad cars and searched the house. I don't know if they found anything, but I'm guessing they probably didn't. These guys are good at hiding it. My first month in this house, I was stumbling home underage, and there were four cop cars outside the same house. It was a drug bust, but they didn't find anything then, either. I'm sure things haven't changed.

After things settled down, the hotties went back on their roof. As one of their roommates got home (while all the cops were still there) they yell to him "The cops found your shit!" Funny? Yes. Dumb? Probably. Its kinda like yelling "Dude, I hope they don't find that bomb in my suitcase!" in an airport. Later, one of the cops comes over to the hotties and starts talking to them from the ground. A second later, we see Hottie #1 throw her cigarette that she was smoking down to the cop, who immediately took a couple puffs, then passed it to the poor sap in the back of the squad car. Amazing. After another hour of sorting stuff out, everyone left. Party over.

I love Minneapolis.

The needs of the many...

I must admit. I sat here pondering why I should take time out of my hectic day of skipping class and playing outside to blog. But the answer comes from a great man's dying words: "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

And so it is my duty to contribute to the wellbeing of manliness, as it is under constant assault from political correctness and technology. Without the guidance of our crack team of men and the honorary man, our world could spiral into a dystopia of sugar and spice and everything nice rather than the frogs and snails and Rottweiler tails it is meant to be.

However, I'm a pretty self centered person, so right now my needs are to write about the Wild as a form of closure to a promising season cut short by injuries, biased officiating, and bad breaks. Sure, that may sound biased itself, but what kind of a fan would I be if it wasn't?

The Wild's motto this post-season was "Fight Til the End," which if you ask me, sounds kinda like we expected it to end sooner rater than later. Maybe some of the players felt the same way, and it got to them. How else could a team that played good fundamental hockey most of the regular season fall so hard in the first series with the higher seed and home-ice advantage for the first time in the team's history? I guess some praise should go to the Avalanche net minder. Theodore played some excellent hockey, even though he got almost as much help from the posts as his blocker.

Also, you would think the "article" by Denver Post "journalist" Mark Kiszla would have fired up the team wanting to prove they weren't a goon squad as accused. However, the very next game after the article came out, the Wild played exactly like how they were portrayed, even though it was extremely out of character for them. The problem as I see it was that no one stepped up to stop the gooning and cheap shots. Where was the captain to calm these guys down? Where was the coach? Game 4 wasn't over after being down 3-0 after one period. But the Wild sure played like it was. And although, from my point of view, the refs belonged in the WCHA, you have to play on. Speaking of the captain not doing anything, Gaborik had no points until Game 6. I realize players go on hot and cold streaks, but a player of Gaborik's caliber shouldn't be -3 going into Game 6 of any playoff series.

As much bad as there was in this series, there was just as much good. The Wild dominated many of the games with good passing, offense, and pressure. There was just too much skill and luck between the Avalanche pipes. Hockey is a lot of luck, anybody will tell you that, and the Wild just weren't getting lucky breaks. The prime example was when the Wild hit 2 posts within 15 seconds of each other.

No matter what the reason is, the Wild season is over. There might still be a couple of good games in the playoffs to watch, but they won't carry nearly as much weight. Which might actually be ok. I might get some actual work done now...Yeah right. The Twins are on.

The Gift

In light of the recent revelations during the Dom "I'm So Seductive" Jones rape trial, I thought this e-card was timely.

Who Hates Iowa?

So I'm sitting in committee today, bored off my ass and I come across an article which is a stellar example of the depths to which our humanity has shrunk. An Iowan state senator is calling for a protest of Pizza Hut.

Apparently someone tried to rob a pizza guy. when said robber attempted this egregious act, the driver pulled out a gun, and owned him in the face. The driver was promptly fired, causing the media to cover this story.

Now, many would probably react initially to the terrible way in which the pizza company has treated their driver. Every person has a reasonable right to self defense, and an employee can't be expected to weigh the consequences of their actions in the heat of the moment. But I feel like an more important aspect of this situation is being overlooked.

WHO TRIES TO ROB A PIZZA GUY!?

I'm not ordinarily an advocate of capitol punishment, but if there was ever a case, I think this is it (postmortem of course, maybe just cut off the robber's balls or something). Just think of the hellish purgatory the would-be recipients of the pizza were placed in:

Stoner 1: Dude, where's my pizza at?

Stoner 2: *giggling* What pizza man?

Stoner 1: I want my fucking pizza! I'm ordering another one

Stoner 2: Dude, what if it comes right after you order another one?

Stoner 1: Fuck, pass me the pork rinds again.


I'm surprised there weren't two homicides that night.

The Open Marriage

Have you ever been introduced to a guy and it's been awkward? Like that dude who was your girl friend's "best friend" in high school? or that guy who used to work in your office, but now likes to come back and hit on the ladies? or the ever popular cone of silence that is sure to follow when the girls head off to the pisser, and only the guys are left? lacking a kitchen fire, these times are sure to induce the dreaded boner of awkwardness.

I'm sure we've all been there. The solution to these situations is simple: manly things. Women can talk about anything for hours. Guys don't have that luxury. We have sports, tools, boobs and... sports. So when we're left with our hands shoved firmly in our pockets, we can only hope that when the subject of Alex Ovechkin's stellar season is broached, your opposite doesn't assert that Bobby Fischer had a better opening combination.

How can we fix this might you ask? the inter-webs. We can ensure that when you are stuck at the in-law's and all you have for company is your awkward bird watching brother-in-law, you can strike up a conversation about the Cy Young chances of Livan Hernandez (2:1 if you ask me).
With that said, we bring you "The Man Palace". With our crack team of writers, we hope to increase the general knowledge of all things manly for all six of our readers. Our mixed gender staff (we strictly follow Title IX) will rant daily about sports and other manly stuff, with J9's occasional input on boobs and farting.

Let the great experiment begin!

Here I Sit All Broken Hearted...

Everyone Poops. Just as the greatest children's book of all time suggests, it happens; whether it be three or four times a day or an every other day occasion. With my growing maturity, I must admit that these events are no longer inconveniences that warrant a quick episode on the pot so I can get back to cartoons. In fact, the opposite is becoming more prevalent these days.

In the real world of the nine to five workday, it has become imperative to take a fifteen minute defecation vacation - twice if neccessary. At the first sign of any bowel movements, it is your responsibilty as a man to grab the sports section from the receptionist desk, procede to the little boys room and assume the postion on the porcelain throne (Note: In an office of men, said pages will await you in the stall on the handicap support to your right). There, you will glance the front page and cringe - could be the lack of fiber - or the reminder that your local hockey team was knocked out in the first round of the playoffs. Again. You will continue to browse the paper, even looking at the articals you may otherwise have overlooked like the charity squash tournament held over the weekend (you will however, continue to gloss over womens professional basketball). If a coworker walks in, you will make your presence known just subtle enough as to prevented intrusion but not blatent enough as to invite unwanted sexual encounters. Should your fellow brethren quickly exit showing that he is also experiencing activity in his lower intestine, you will in no way feel obligated to rush. There is another mens room on the second floor if he can't hold it.

Once you are content that your bussiness has come to a conclusion, you must make the hardest decision of the whole ordeal; crumple or fold. In the words of a great scoutmaster I had many years ago, I will offer this advice: "If you are going for efficiency folding is the way to go, but if you've got a problem in the fiber department you are gonna have to crumple - What? It's more absorbent."