Friday, October 31, 2008

Mass Hysteria Fantasy Football Preview: Week 9

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Again our good friend Grimey picks up the ball and runs with it....

It's Halloween weekend, and you know what that means... keeping your outside light turned off so all the neighborhood kids don't knock on your door. This also prevents "ding dong ditching" (or as we lovingly call it here in the South, "n----r knockin'").


On to the racism-free picks!

PREDICTING SPOUSES PICK OF THE WEEK: RUBBERFISTINGMITTEN (3-4-1) over FUTUREMRWILLAFORD (3-4-1)
... I have apologized to FMRA for suggesting that she pick up Ike Hilliard a few weeks back. J.T. O'Sullivan? That was her own fault.

By the way, the Tampa Bay defense that FMRA picked up in the 14th round? It's scored three more points than the San Diego defense that she picked up in the third round. Just sayin'.

PEYTONS INFECTED SAC (5-3) over NORFOLK & WAY (2-6)
: Is Norfolk & Way the worst team in the league? BenJarvus Green-Ellis thinks so. So does Visanthe Shiancoe.

EAT SEVENTEEN BEERS (6-2) over FIGHTIN AMALIES (4-4):
In my first draft of the year, I took Darren McFadden in the third round. This week I dropped him for Donnie Avery. So, um, yeah. There's that.

FAT DRUNK AND STUPID (7-1) over HANGIN WITH MR DUNGY (2-5-1): In another one of my leagues, I have Matt Forte, Earnest Graham, and Anquan Boldin, just like Fat Drunk and Stupid does. Only Pepster's team is 7-1, and my team is 3-5. The secret ingredient must be the gayness.

OSI HUMANURINE (3-4-1) over MY LITTLE PONIES (3-5): The rumors of Le'Ron McClain's death have been gravely ACCURATE. Next week might be the right time for Smurphette to sell Michael Turner high.

THE WILD CARD (6-2) over COCKFLASHLISAOLSON (4-3-1): Everybody sing!

Donnie Avery had many sons /
And many sons had DON-nie Avery /
And I am one of them, and so are you /
So let's just praise the Lord (RIGHT ARM!)


(And yes, I used to do this with Donnie Abraham's name... how do you think this shit got started?)

(And for you heathens, it's the Christian hokey pokey!)


PLASCHKE EATS PENIS (3-4-1) over LESSTHANJAKEDELHOMME (2-6): On behalf of everyone who didn't pick up Josh Morgan off waivers and start him last week, I'd just like to say to HMLS BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA but seriously I'm losing this week.

Here are the standings after 8 weeks

Wrestlers of Yore: Papa Shango

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On this Halloween, I found it fitting to profile a wrestler who has had to endure a litany of ridiculous fucking costumes. But whom do I choose? John Tenta, who had to play Earthquake and The Shark? Fred Ottman, who played Tugboat Thomas, Typhoon, U.S. Steel and the Shockmaster? Some of the forgettable mid-90s gimmicks of the Repo Man, T.L. Hopper the wrestling plumber, the Goon or Man Mountain Rock? Tony Atlas, an African-American who was forced to carry a spear and shield as Saba Simba?


All of these characters were obviously ridiculous, embarrassing and in some cases, quite racist, but only one man has had to endure a vast number of separate embarrassing characters (well, a few embarrassing and one pretty cool) in his WWF/E tenure: Charles Wright. You may better know him by his other names however, including Sir Charles, the Soultaker, Papa Shango, Kama the Supreme Fighting Machine, the Godfather or the forgettable Goodfather. Or by his current occupation, owner of the Las Vegas strip club Cheetah's. That's right kids, Papa Shango runs a titty bar.

According to the unshakeable source that is Wikipedia, Wright was "discovered" while bartending at the same bar where they filmed the epic arm wrestling film, "Over the Top." Wrestlers involved in filming the Oscar-winner (as in the favored movie of the year by men named Oscar) told Wright that his large, tattooed body type would be perfect for the world of professional wrestling. Within a couple of years, Wright was wrestling as "The Soultaker" for Jerry Jarrett's USWA.


From there, Wright's friend Mark Calloway (better known to you and I as the Undertaker) recommended him to WWF management, where he was signed in 1991 and given the name "Sir Charles," an obvious takeoff on NBA player Charles Smith.

Wright was repackaged the next year as Papa Shango, a voodoo practitioner who would cast "spells" on his opponents, causing them pain and making them vomit from afar. As the story goes, Shango ruined the ending to the epic Hulk Hogan/Sid Justice Wrestlemania 8 battle by being a few minutes late for his scheduled match run-in, causing Hogan and Justice to botch the match's finish, causing Sid to inexplicably kick out of Hulk's legdrop, an unplanned and anticlimactic action which helped serve as the beginning of the end of Hulkamania. All because Papa Shango was late getting to the ring. Way to go, voodoo asshole.

From there, Papa Shango would scar my youth by causing my hero, the Ultimate Warrior vomit neon green Nickelodeon Gak all over fake doctors, to the horror of myself and Lord Alfred Hayes:



After the Papa Shango character lost momentum, Wright was repackaged again as "Kama, the Supreme Fighting Machine," a part of Ted DiBiase's Million Dollar Corporation. Clearly, DiBiase was in need of punctuation, causing him to hire someone named Kama. Kama's biggest feud came with the Undertaker, after he stole the Undertaker's urn, melted it into a necklace, and then proceeded to lose 4,483 straight casket matches to the Undertaker for his actions.

Kama later was repackaged again as Kama Mustafa, a member of the Nation of Domination. The Nation, an all-African American stable, feuded with the all-white Disciples of Apocalypse and the all-Hispanic Los Boricuas in a period of WWF History I like to refer to as the "Race Wars." And who won the Race Wars, you might ask? The lily-white Vince McMahon of course, who exploited his minority labor for profit.


After the Rich White Guy won the Race Wars, Wright was repackaged again as The Godfather, the WWF's resident pimp. As part of this awesome gimmick, local strippers/whores would parade out to the ring with the Godfather, dancing around him while he brandished his pimp cane and a huge smile on his face. With such catch phrases as "Pimpin Ain't Easy" and "All Aboard the Ho Train," the Godfather and his hoes were an obvious favorite of the oft-masturbating teenage GHABB,Y, who liked to watch the boobies jiggle. I will now completely kill the mood by noting that the Godfather was the intended opponent of Owen Hart the night that he fell 70 feet to his death.

Wow, sorry guys, total buzzkill there, here's some whores to cheer you up.


Due in much part to the Godfather character, McMahon was sued by the Parents Television Council for airing lewd and lascivious material, and tarnishing the unspoiled Christian eyes of this nation's children. McMahon, being the button-pusher that he is, started a part-of-the-script faction called the "Right to Censor," who wore white shirts and black ties that came out to the sound of shrill alarms and buzzers, and would rail against the liberal nature of the WWF. The Right to Censor, of course, would then get their asses handed to them, and their screen time would be given to scantily-clad women and "hardcore" wrestlers beating each other with Stop signs. In a travesty of justice, the Godfather joined the Right to Censor, renaming himself "The Goodfather" (get it? hyuk hyuk), and the hoes were sadly, gone. Soon too was Wright, made obsolete when the Parents Television Council dropped their lawsuit.

Since then, Wright has made occasional appearances on WWE television, occasionally reprising his "Godfather" character, often when wrestling tapings are filmed in Las Vegas, Wright's home. Wright's "hoes" this time are strippers at The Cheetah Club, the strip club that Wright owns in Vegas.


So let this be a lesson to all of you: if you play a fake pimp on TV, you can later own a strip club in real life. Just when you do so, make sure that you don't injure any innocent Ultimate Warriors in the process, making them throw up Nickelodeon Gak.

Patriots, Eagles, and the Crypt Keeper

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In an effort to put both of my previews into one clean post, and to force you to read about Boston College, both games will be previewed.

Boston College vs Clemson

A battle for the newly formed "Leather Helmet" award, Clemson hasn't beaten BC in ages. Great job Grid Iron Club I can't wait to see who wins this treasured award. What are we going to have next, "Catholic Irish Wealthy Kids Award" for BC-Notre Dame, or "Future Lawyers vs Future Clients Trophy" for BC-Florida State. I am going to go ahead and say this game is going to be VERY sloppy. If you decided to watch the game (again on ESPNU so 99% of you can't even if you wanted to) you will be "treated" to two of the worst QB's in the ACC. Cullen Harper was projected to be an elite college QB but with a TD/INT ratio of 1:1, he really hasn't lived up to that. Don't get me started on Chris Crane. Please don't, he make me very angry. And you wont like me when I'm angry

Just because I love all of you, and want to spare you the boredom of a complete BC recap, I will go ahead and say that BC will win this game by 10, with about 6 turnovers in the game. At some point during this game my fiance will restrain me so I dont throw my coke bottle or cell phone at Chris Crane. I like the BC defense, even if they looked like the Lions last weekend. But if BC loses this game someone needs to keep me on 24 hour watch for my own safety.

Oh and by the way place kicker Billy Bennett was suspended indefinitely by the Eagles for an undisclosed reason:
a) impregnated a cheerleader (good old Catholics and their views on abortion)
b) got loaded, and got in a fight and went all Ryan Ohliger on a fan (who is Ohliger you may ask? He is an ex BC kicker thrown off the team after beating up a Superfan who taunted him for being a terrible FG kicker, which it was)

c)Course failure. Me fail English? Thats unpossible.

New England Patriots vs the Indianapolis Colts

Welcome to the Patriots preview my little minions, its your favorite ghoulball expert the Crypt Keeper! Mwahahahaha!!!!! This weekend the New England Rape-riots will fight to the death with the Indianapolis Cults! In this tale of gore and agony a young man Matt Cassel must overcome the tragic death of his predecessor TOM BRADY, what he doesn't know is the Colts want him dead as well. MAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!

The secondary of Ellis Hobb-Goblin and Brendon Stormy-weather will have their claws full against the evil Cults Wild Retrievers! The stakes will be high for these monsters, if they can not inflict some bodily pain on these ghouls, their souls will burn for eternity in Bill HELL-ichick's Prison!!! Rat Cassell needs to execute on offense, or it will be his head on the chopping block! MAHAHA. If he wants to win this game he needs to pick apart a wounded Colts secondary, like a vulture tears apart a corpse. Randy Moss is my type of player, he wants to be the main go to guy, he reminds me of a young Frederick Kreuger before he the power and glamor went to his head.

As the clocks dies in the fourth quarter, I expect a close game. Because of his arm, and a face that looks closer to death, Peyton Mangling will be the victor. Though if he continues to eat like a swine, that nose tackle Vince Wil-fork over his soul over to me! If it is tied I propose an alternate solution, Peyton Mangling and Rat Cassel, pistols at dawn. Winner takes the game, loser forfeits his soul!!!

Happy Halloween Mass Hysteria

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Last night was pretty slow in Boston sports with the only real event being the Bruins losing to Calgary (which resulted in a very angry text from FutureMrs). But today is Halloween, the one chance during the year for you to put on costumes and drink to your hearts content. I have my Matt Ryan costume all set, with my very prim hair, tailored suit and loafers and gee golly smile. There is a lot going on this weekend so be ready for a busy day at Mass Hysteria: the Pats will be facing off with the neutered Colts, the Celtics will be hosting Derrick Rose and the Bulls, and I'm sure the Bruins are playing a game at some point as well. And of course keep your eyes open for our fantasy football preview!


As a special treat for all of you boils and ghouls, I would like to introduce the MH Official Halloween Mascot. He is a white West Coast Rapper named GT. When I was a college radio DJ back in 2002, GT sent me a tape called "It's Halloween", he expressed that its goal was to become the official anthem of Halloween. I don't even know where to begin with this song, the beat sounds like it was made on a CASIO keyboard, my grandmother could write better rhymes, and his metaphors are well HILARIOUS. If you can't hear the song because you are work here is the chorus, but otherwise I encourage you to watch it:

"It's Halloween so, get down and eat my candy
You're such a bitch...bitch
But a nice looking witch...witch"



The song was so over the top bad that SmartyBarrett (who was my on air side kick) and I played it ALL the time. We made copies of it and sent it to friends, we played it at parties, hell we memorized the entire song. The great thing about GT was he was way too naive, he called into our radio show, where we would mock him openly.and He must have some kind of mental deficiency because he never caught on. We prank called him at home, got him to send us what must have been hundreds of copies of his CD and posters. He even fell in love with one of our friends, a girl he never met. The joke just never got old. GT put together a whole CD worth of his musical gems including "Get Down to Business Bitch" "Bounce Your Hoodies" "Dance Nasty" and the even better "Dance Nasty Remix". He may never make it big, but to my group of friends GT has become what he always strove to be: a symbol of Halloween.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Boston Sports Tonight!

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Bruins v. Flames, 9:00 pm. The Bruins head to Calgary for the final game of this road trip to face bad-ass netminder Miikka Kiprusoff and pretty-boy/lover of Sean Avery's sloppy seconds Dion Phaneuf. No word yet on whether the Red Mile and its infamous bare-tittied ladies will be out celebrating if the Flames win tonight. Shirts off for Kiprusoff, gals! There's a loonie in it for ya.

It's too early in the season to start flipping out about division standings, but it's worth noting that a win tonight will bring us into a tie for first place with Montreal Buffalo. So, like, yay for that.

Frivolous wager of the night: Jack Edwards' gleeful shout of "AHHH, SUPERMAN!" during a more spectacular Tim Thomas save against Edmonton the other night has already garnered some notoriety. With Thomas in the net again tonight, here are the odds on what Edwards could be yelling:

"Ahhh, Batman!" 50:1
"Ahhh, Bananaman!" 200:1
"Ahhhhhhhhhndy!" 20:1
"Ahhh, stick a fork in it!" 5:1
"Ahhh [quote from abolitionist hymn and/or poem]!" 100:1
"Ahhh, I think I'm having a heart attack!" 2:1

Serious prediction of the night: There are two players on the ice tonight who are on fire (HAHA GET IT) right now: Flames captain Jarome Iginla, and Bruins goalie Tim Thomas. It'll come down to defensive pressure on Iginla, who's already had 2 6-shot games this season, to keep him from wearing out Thomas. That said, the Flames have gotten their asses kicked twice by the Canucks (one 1-6 loss, one 0-6 shutout... what the fuck is Kiprusoff doing with himself?!) and I say we beat 'em, 4-2.

This Week in Route 1 Football

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An IM conversation this week between myself and University of Georgia fan Matt_T, frequent Deadspin commenter and proprietor of DeadOn:

Matt_T: Remember the election in 2000, when people were too dumb to figure out how to punch a voting card? Those were all Florida Fans.

Ghabby: General Sherman shouldn’t have stopped at Atlanta when he was burning Georgia cities to the ground, he should have turned north and torched Athens while he was at it.

Matt_T: Florida Fans say Tebow’s tears cure cancer, but he cries like a bitch after each loss and we still have cancer.

Ghabby: Any fruit with fur on it is obviously gay. And peanuts aren’t supposed to be boiled, asshole.

Matt_T: A Florida fan's idea of night on the town is putting on their finest sleeveless t-shirt, freshly pressed Jorts and running a comb through their mullet before heading to the Sizzler for dinner.

Ghabby: A Georgia fan’s idea of a night on the town is to comb his bangs, throw on his distressed backwards baseball cap with the frayed bill, strap on his mandals and cruise Buckhead for some roofied-up whore, who generally ends up giving him incomplete fellation due to whisky dick.

Matt_T: Wing House blows.

Ghabby: The Varsity is overrated, and Chick-Fil-A creeps me out.

Yes folks, it’s Georgia-Florida week, as we sit on the verge of the World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party (not to be confused with The World’s Largest Indoor Cock and Tail Party, starring Lisa Sparxx and 57 dudes). Georgia fans hate Florida. Florida fans hate Georgia. Once a year, the twain meet halfway in the oversized suburb of Jacksonville, one covering half the stadium in Red and Black, and the other in Orange and Blue. Hateful epitaphs are thrown. Noncreative signs are drawn up. Much alcohol is imbibed. Even up here in Boston and away from the joyous Cocktail Party, it’s one of my favorite days of the year.

The rivalry (and probably the SEC East) will be settled this Saturday at 3:30, roughly when my girlfriend will begin pestering me about cleaning for that night’s Halloween Party. I will then, clad in my Reggie Nelson jersey with the BCS Championship patch, tell her to go fuck herself, earning at least a week of sleeping on the couch. GO GATORS!


In the meantime, we have some awards for last week to hand out, with an obvious eye towards this Saturday’s battle between Tebow and Stafford, Knowshon and Demps/Rainey, and Shitty Defense and Shitty Defense.

Hooters Real Fucking Deal Award: As an enterprising researcher, I attempted to spend last Sunday at Bostonville Grille, Route 1’s “other” sports bar with a million TVs and a grease-only menu. And I must say, beloved readers, it sorely disappointed. First, it not only did not have Hooters Wings which I love so dear, but the food in general tasted like it was garnished by the dingleberries of a homeless man’s asshole. The beer was watery. The waitresses were sans vaginal breezeway. It was noisy, not in the “Fun Sports Bar” sort of way, but in the “Oh my god give me an Excedrin Migrane Now” Chuck-E-Cheese sort of way. I do not plan to return.

Not a ringing endorsement

Anyways this week’s Real Fucking Deal Awards happens to go to Texas Tech, who hung 63 on a ranked Kansas team, as well as this week’s Cocktail Party participants, Georgia and Florida. The Dawgs handled LSU much in the way the Gators did, scoring 52 in a relatively sloppy game, led by that godforsaken Knowshon’s 163 yards. The blessed Gators, meanwhile, played the perfect game against Kentucky, blocking THREE kicks in the first 16 minutes of the game, en route to a 63-5 nailbiter. The Gators have now scored 152 points in their last three games, all against SEC opponents. Why? Because they piss greatness and ejaculate perfection, that’s why.


Russo’s Candy House Closing “Well, That Sucks” Award - Haven’t had to break out this award in a while, but the near certainty of a mediocre Penn State squad probably making the BCS Championship earns a “Well, That Sucks” akin to the closing of my childhood diabetes-producing factory. Vegas odds on the BCS Championship are already (Team That’s Not Penn State) favored by at least 17 over Grampa Paterno’s bunch. Name me three Penn State players. Yeah, didn’t think so.

I heard that Bill Bellami is a funny fello

Kowloon’s Good Ol’ Fashioned Fun Award – I done toleded you that Texas/Oklahoma State would be one of the most fun games of the year, and bah gawd was I right. The game was back-and-forth for 60 minutes, and if Zac Robinson had only five more yards on his deep ball, we might be talking about a new Number 1 team right now. Texas, who had impressed the shit out of me in their previous wins over ranked teams, seemed to genuinely struggle against the Cowboys, both due to the strong Okie State defense and the fact that Mack Brown really isn’t a very good coach. Now, he hasn’t had to be all year when winning games by 30 points apiece, but that’s the sort of thing that could eventually bite Texas in the ass in a close game. I mean, did you see him fuck up that last-minute drive? Deplorable.


Weylu’s Epic Fail Award – This week’s Epic Fail goes to the entire Big East, which should rank just below the Sun Belt this year as far as power conferences go. Remember South Florida? They lost to an unranked Louisville team. 17th ranked Pitt? Got smoked by Rutgers, and not even Rutgers with Ray Rice either. West Virginia, they of losses to East Carolina and Colorado, is now leading the Big East. Connecticut is second. This conference blows.

Karl’s Sausage Kitchen Team that Scares Me Award – Did you know that Minnesota is 7-1? Minne-fucking-sota! And gieven the aforementioned shittiness of the Big 10, there’s a distinct chance that the Golden Gophers may be playing in the Rose Bowl this year, provided they get past Northwestern and Wisconsin. This is a team that went 1-11 last year, and who added a decent-but-not-great recruiting class. I think that says everything you need to know about the Big 10.


Frank Giuffrida Exalted Human Being Award – This week’s Frank Giuffrida Exalted Human Being award goes to North Carolina Wide Receiver Hakeem Nicks. What, HZMLS, you really thought I’d go the whole column without mentioning BC’s pwning? Nicks scored four touchdowns against the wildly successful defensive secondary of BC, who are all now being treated for whiplash and PTSD. For squashing the hopes and dreams of HZMLS , his family, loved ones and fellow BC alumni, you are entitled to the famous Hilltop Filet Mignon, seasoned with the tears of Superfans worldwide.

An Open Letter to Philly Fans

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Dear Philadelphia Fans,

As you finally enjoy your first championship in more than a generation, I first want to extend a hearty congratulations to all of you, on behalf of the city and fans of Boston. Both your team and your city deserve this.

We're not that dissimilar, Boston and Philly, and it is through those similarities that I write you this letter. We're both four-sport Northeastern cities with rabid fan bases. Great sitcoms (Cheers and Always Sunny) are/were based in our respective cities. We're both plagued with shitty weather and an even shittier selection of good-looking women. Our baseball teams feature oversized jovial power hitters, second basemen who fill up every aspect of the stat sheet, and lights-out closers. We both started the American Revolution. We both really fucking hate New York.

So it is from that kindred spirit that I wish to issue you, the people of Philadelphia a warning, as you finally enjoy your first championship since 1983: don't turn into douchebags. Trust me, we as Bostonians speak from experience.

In fact, the five of us founded this site because so many of our local brethren had been corrupted by championship, spoiled by the power of winning, that douchebaggery and entitlement took them over, causing them to be insufferable to not only those around them locally, but the entire nation. Winning is a powerful thing, but power can corrupt.

It's hard to explain exactly how, but winning a championship changes many in a fanbase. The thrill of the chase is no longer there, that void is filled instead with an odd sense of satisfaction and an addictive sense of more, more, more. Soon after the glow wears off, some people’s thoughts will immediately drift to "well, if we keep the team intact, there's no excuse for us not to win next year as well, and then the year after that, and the year after that…" Many of your fans will come to expect, nay, demand championships, year after year, and become insufferable when that does not happen. God knows it's happened here, and it makes the smaller, rational percentage of our fans embarrassed to be associated with the irrational large percentage of our fanbase that has spent the last week inexplicably calling for Francona’s job, or thinking the sky is falling because Brady got hurt. These people feel that now that we’ve won one (or more than one in this particular case), every season’s championship is our right. Winning even more championships only makes their insufferability worse, furthering their sense of entitlement. I mean look at Yankees fans: 26 championships and they’re complete fucking pricks, the lot of them.

So, if I as a Boston fan can give you any advice for the next few days/weeks, it's to enjoy this impending championship for what it is. Soak in every moment, every instant of the next few days, because it's what you'll be telling your children about in the future. Buy every possible t-shirt, hat and DVD that says "Phillies World Champions." Laugh, cheer, and drink until you lose all feeling in your extremities.

But weeks from now, when that glow wears off and you start looking forward, be it towards the Sixers or the Eagles or next season's Phils, take the road less traveled, and the road certainly not traveled by most of the people up here: don't turn into an expectant douchebag with a sudden sense of entitlement. The rest of the country will thank you, and you'll be a better fanbase for it.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Your Tasty Red Sox Post-Season Awards

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What, did we all forget about baseball already? There's still plenty of post-season awards to hand out! If I'm not mistaken, they start announcing the big award recipients (MVP, Rookie of the Year, etc.) 15 days after the World Series ends...so I anticipate us knowing who the Cy Young winner is sometime around Valentine's Day. With Kevin Youkilis already taking home some hardware, let's have a look-see at some other possible award winners, shall we?



The Ketchup Award
If you're anything like me, you put ketchup (or in some extreme cases catsup) on everything. EVERYTHING. I'm talking burgers, fries, hot dogs, meatloaf, eggs, baked beans, ham, sausage, bacon, potato chips, chocolate pudding, your lover's stomach, EVERYTHING. When you go camping, there's only one condiment you need to bring. It just goes so well with everything, and it makes everything taste better. Just like Kevin Youkilis. Put the guy anywhere in the order, put him anywhere in the field, and the bald, bearded brother can work well in any circumstance. Now pass the ketchup.



The Relish Award
You ever clean up after a cookout, and you realize the ketchup has been polished off, the mustard is down to the last few drops, but there's always plenty of relish left? It's not that no one likes it - it's delicious. But somehow, it rarely gets used. No one even seems to notice it's even there. That's why I'm giving The Relish Award to Sean Casey. The ultimate team guy, but yet he was rarely used this year, and a lot of people forgot that he was even on the team. But yet, if he was ever needed, you could always find him, ready to give you a little extra pop.



The Slightly-Warm Mayonnaise Award
If you're white, a redneck, or preferrably both, you are likely a big mayonnaise fan. Doesn't really taste like much, but it does the job. The huge downside is that if you leave it out too long, it gets really gross really fast. Some people say this is how to make "special sauce." The same folks are likely wearing a porcelain necktie several hours later. It just isn't that good later on. That is why this award goes to Jason Varitek. Look, everyone is a big fan. And he was really good not too long ago. But jeez, there's nothing we can do with him now, he's spoiled. Down the garbage disposal with ya.



The Wasabi Award
Anyone who has used too much wasabi has been burned. Seriously. Like right in the nostrils. The stuff is delicious though, and your first try with it is always a sobering experience. "Oh, this is what this stuff is like? Forget it." But then you start to work it in bit by bit, and once you find out how much to use, it's outstanding. Just need to find that medium. That's why The Wasabi Award recipient is Hideki Okajima. Got rocked early on, but then, with other guys in the pen (the ginger, if you will) shouldering part of the load, they were able to use Okajima very effectively, and he had a damn good second half. Doki doki!



The Unsalted Butter Award
Ah yes, unsalted butter. Plain, tasteless, colorless, but yet somehow, essential to a lot of meals. Whether it's greasing up a pan or being added to eggs, sauce, or cookies, it always gets the job done, even if it's not exactly glamourous or noticeable. That is why I'm awarding the Unsalted Butter honors to Jason Bay. The man simply comes to work and gets shit accomplished, and he added some extra bulk to the middle of the Sox lineup, even if a lot of his hits, homers, and RBI weren't as celebrated as, say, Manny Ramirez.

I'm hungry.

Your Mid-Week Bruins Roundup

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The Bruins went 3-1 this past week, with wins over the Thrashers, Oilers, and Canucks plus one loss to the Leafs. Continued dazzling play from our hot young offense and some truly inspired netminding have combined to lead the Bruins to a 5-2-3 record. Hurrah!

The Good: No questions here... this week's Awesome Award is due to longtime objet d'affection Tim Thomas, who just put up back-to-back shutouts on consecutive nights against the Oilers and the Canucks. The games included a total of 59 blocked shots in 2:3:18 of total playing time. He's currently working on a .943 save percentage and is allaying the goaltending worries that many (NOT ME) had coming into this season.


Ups are also due to defenseman (that's "defenceman" for our Canadian readers) Dennis Wideman here. Wideman, whom the Bruins re-signed over the summer, is the team's top-scoring defender with two goals and three assists. He found the back of the net after four shots in OT to give the Bruins the win over Edmonton on Monday night. Andrew Ference remains the top defender overall, but it's great to have someone like Wideman being aggressive about moving the puck up and taking initiative on offense as the Bruins' defense continues to struggle against pressure.

Of course, that Lucic-Savard-Kessel line I keep raving about is still as hot as ever, although it was actually Michael Ryder with whom Savvy connected for the lone (and game-winning) goal last night for his 8th assist -- and Ryder's 2nd goal -- on the season. It was a huge week in particular, as you'll see below, for sophomore sensation Milan Lucic. Lucic is from Vancouver, so, naturally, we were all treated to his baby pictures being splashed all over NESN during the game last night thanks to the Vancouver Province. Precious!



The Shawn Thornton - Stephane Yelle - Petteri Nokelainen line also looked to be gelling quite nicely last night... that's our 4th line, by the way, which speaks volumes to the incredible depth we've got on offense this year.

The Bad: I'm already sensing a pattern here... defense, kids! Our loss to Toronto on Thursday was troubling on several levels. First, we lost to, well, a very bad team (the Leafs were on a 5-game losing streak coming into Thursday's game). Second, it was our first loss by more than a point (4-2). Third, Toronto got in 38 shots on goal, including 14 in the 3rd period alone. This is not good. Ference and Wideman make a great duo, but Mark Stuart and Aaron Ward have been much less of a presence than they should be, and Captain Chara's currently saddled with a +/- of -3... the lowest on the team. The B's do a great job of setting up neutral zone traps, but keeping up with shooters once they've penetrated (heh) the defending zone continues to be an issue for these Bruins.

Play of the week: Three plays, actually... Milan Lucic scores his first career hat trick of the non-Gordie Howe* variety, including the game winner with under 2 minutes left to play against the Thrashers on Saturday. Once, twice, three times a Lucic, baby. Observe:



Hit of the week: Duh. You've all seen this already, but it's just so awesome that I'm posting it again. Double your Lucic, double your fun! Here, the strapping Serb sends Toronto's Mike Van Ryn through -- THROUGH -- the Plexiglass at the Garden on Thursday. Those of you who've been following along will recall that the Bruins actually opened their season with another shattered glass pane... that one came off a Zdeno Chara slapshot against Colorado. Sweet. As long as our rink is all fucked up, we might as well go around breaking shit, too. Boom, bitch:





*For those of you non-hockey types out there, a Gordie Howe hat trick consists of a goal, an assist, and a fight. This is not to be confused with a Taz O'Reilly hat trick, which consists of a fight, a penalty, and beating the shit out of a fan.

The Ring Ceremony

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I’m not often one to feel pride. Most often, the produdest moment of my day occurs when I take a dump so big that it clogs the industrial work toilets, even before I’ve started to use toilet paper. Though seriously, you try dropping a deuce so bad that they have to call maintenance. It’s a fucking accomplishment and a half.

However, last night’s Celtics ring/banner ceremony filled me to the proverbial brim with pride and happiness for last year’s great Celtics team, one that I’ll never forget as long as I live. I’ve never been married or had children, but watching the C’s get their rings last night was a feeling comparable to what I figure it will feel like to watch my child graduate from Harvard (or Florida if the kid can run a 4.2 40).


I’ll freely admit it. I teared up. First at seeing Doc get his ring, for as much as I criticicized the man, he truly deserves it. Next came the reserves, Leon Powe coming first and making me smile like when the Grinch realized that Christmas wasn’t bought in a store, that maybe Christmas was just a little bit more. Gabe Pruitt getting his ring made me proud like when my little brother aced a spelling test. Big Baby, Eddie House, even running-from-the-crowd Scot Pollard, all of them making me smile in their own separate way, knowing what they went through, how each of them contributed to last year’s team when we needed them, and how, for some of them (like Pollard), it was the end of the road.

Then the starters. Here’s where I really lost my shit. Perk found a way to sweat even when he wasn’t playing, and seemed genuinely moved by the whole thing. Rondo had this look on his face like “this is just the first of what I’m sure will be many,” – brimming with the confidence that he’s finally found after a year of yo-yo-ing on and off the bench. Then Ray Allen, the classy vet, finally seeing his reward after years of shitty Milwaukee and Seattle teams.


Next was KG. I’ve never seen someone so happy. KG sacrificed everything – his statistics, his sense of home in Minnesota, his pride, his legacy – all in the name of turning last year’s C’s into a championshp winner. He would settle for no less, and, deservedly, he got no less. Kevin Garnett literally gave everything of himself, physically and emotionally, in the name of winning, and earning that ring served as the answer to the question of “if I truly work hard and care enough, will I reach my goal?” In KG’s case, that answer was yes.


Finally, a ring was bestowed upon Paul Pierce. The Truth was already teary-eyed from giving a pre-ceremony speech, but completely broke down when his name was called. “Wait, this really is for me? I did this?” seemed to be the expression on his face as he, tears streaming down his face, embraced David Stern and the owners. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier for another person. 10 years of losing seasons, stabbings, coaching changes, and countless bullshit were, at this very moment, all worth it. I was a generation too young for the Bird era, so Pierce, MY signature Celtic, was finally getting the recognition he so richly deserved. I cried along with him.


The banner-raising and the game were just gravy – honestly, if the C’s had lost by 40 like last year’s Heat did on opening night, I would have been understanding. However, the fact that the Celtics, These Celtics, came back against a clearly talented team and won gave hope that last year’s championship, last year’s collective drive and last year’s commitment to winning, weren’t just a one-year thing. The Celtics’ quest for a championship didn’t end at last night’s ring ceremony, as I had initially thought it would. Instead, it was apparently just the end to the first chapter. Welcome back boys, Banner 18 is waiting.

Breakfast with the Hysterics

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Good morning ya'll. Your favorite editor is back after taking yesterday off with a bad case of "Deadline-itis", which usually can only be cured by work. Man I hate those days, I would rather be making inappropriate Matt Ryan references and comparing the Patriots to serial killers. Last night the Celtics looked great again, lifting their 17th banner to the rafter, and receiving their "Shamrock" Captain America rings. The Bruins according to the ESPN ticker won 1-0, with Tim Thomas tossing the shutout. Is that the correct terminology? I have no clue. But a win is a win, and that should keep our pretty little Hockey Editor happy.

But the theme for this morning is discussing the ways we all find ways to slack at work. We all do it, in some form or another. Whether its shooting the breeze with a coworker in the break room, surfing the internet, or calling a fiance we as a nation are more than proficient in discovering ways to avoid tasks we are paid for. Here are my Top Five Ways to Waste Time at Work:

5. Google Reader- I dont know if you all know what this is, but its a death trap for wasting time. Basically every blog I come across whether it be Deadspin or Grimes for President, I can click on a little icon and they all load on one page. I am now up to about 40 blogs I read constantly, which in the end probably wastes hours of my day. I swear on certain days I read the same story written by like 5 blogs, all involving Santonio Holmes and his horse dong.

4. Wikipedia- I have been ripped on by numerous close friends of mine for being flighty and tangential. Wikipedia is like the heroin that makes those deficits worse. If I hear a new Rap song on the radio on the way to work I immediately Wiki it, which in turn has me click on some other link and by the time I know it I'm reading about the history of Swedish Meatballs.

3. Messing with my fantasy teams- This is usually more of a time waster during Baseball season, but even during the winter months I find this can be a vortex of non productiveness. It even gets to the point I even spend large chunks of time thinking of witty team names. "Matt Ryan is My Lord and Savior" "Plaschke eats Penis", and "Man Bear Pig" were the best I could come up with this year (an off year in terms of originality). Right now I have 5 fantasy football teams, a Fantasy Basketball team, a college pick em league and I do that ESPN streak thing. Because I have so many football teams I think I spend half my time trying to remember who is on what team. Goal for next year, 2 fantasy baseball teams that is it, stop the insanity of rooting for Carlos Zambrano to both toss a shutout for your team, and get crushed so you can win in another league.
2. Porn- Just kidding that would get me fired.

2. Emailing- I must get close to a hundred emails a day on GMAIL, and I feel the compulsion to read them all at work. The worst thing is I have GMAIL notifier on my computer which makes a noise that immediately distracts me from whatever work related thing I was doing. Its like a Pavlovian thing for me, when the little blue envelope comes up I salivate like a dog and impulsively check my GMAIL. Who cares if its just Blockbuster notifying me that they sent Heroes Disc 2, its still a rush.

1. GMAIL Chat- The supreme waster of my time. I remember when I started this blog with the other editors, I had no idea what GMAIL Chat was. Now I can't stop, no matter how much work I have to do. Its like AIM, but less stigmatizing and weird, a hipper Instant Messenger for adults. Well at least thats how I rationalized it. Now I spend large parts of my day talking to the MH editors, my fiance, friends from back home, whoever has a green dot next to their name. It just doesn't end.

Well now that I am done wasting time, have a great Hump Day.

Question for the Masses: I know most of you are probably diligent workers, but if you slack what is your weapon of choice?

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Boston Sports Tonight: Back in Green!

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Celtics v. Cavaliers, 8:00 pm.


The Boston Celtics return, at long last, to the Garden tonight to kick off their season against the LeBron James Super Happy Funtime Hour. The Celtics are 6-2 with 95 PPG in the postseason and look ready to roll against a familiar cast of characters: Anderson Varejao's 'fro, Delonte West's endearing and somewhat muppet-like persona, Ben Wallace's Face of Doom, and Wally Szcerbiak's aggressively-coiffed hair, among others.

There's so much to look forward to this season, be it the ever-thrilling maturation of Rajon Rondo, the mysterious majesty of Kevin Garnett, or the excitement of seeing how ferocious Paul Pierce's play might be now that he's finally fought his way out from Basketball Hell (I believe they just moved it to Oklahoma City) and up to the dazzling summit of championship glory. Bust out your jerseys, boys and girls. Welcome your champions home.

Because I love you (not really; I'm just trying to get with your friend), and because many of you weren't around in the infancy of Mass Hysteria, I'm sharing with you some of our choicest Celtics coverage from last spring as we all endured weeks of cold sweat and borderline aneurysms watching our Celtics way fight their way to Banner #17. Observe:

My personal favorite comment thread ever.
A fanciful look at that godawful series with the Hawks.
Bill Russell reminds us all not to lose faith.
GHABB,Y~!'s first attempt to mix substance abuse with sports-related superstitions.
futuremrsrickankiel's 100,000th attempt at drunk communication.
Two eloquent reminders of why L.A. is a godforsaken cesspit of irredeemable humanity that no one should ever root for, ever.
Some hyperbole, because we like it that way.
The world-famous (seriously!) Sasha Vujacic post.
Celebration!
An eyewitness account of the post-victory riots.

Don't miss it! I bet if you're nice to GHABB,Y~! he'll even have some mid- or post-game thoughts to share with you. And I bet they'll all be something along the lines of, "Oh, how I wish I could eat sugar."


Bruins v. Canucks, 10:00 pm. HOLY SHIT THE BRUINS ACTUALLY MANAGED A WIN PAST REGULATION LAST NIGHT. I almost died of shock, but then I realized that I had just left my phone on vibrate. Anyway, the Bruins are currently in the midst of a whirlwind tour of The Other Canadian Teams, having just come off a win (IN OVERTIME OMG) over Edmonton with a matchup against Calgary this Thursday. The Milan Lucic - Marc Savard - Phil Kessel line is still sizzling hot (26 total points, including 5 goals and 7 assists from Savvy alone) and will most likely start the game off tonight for the Bruins. Hopefully we'll have Manny Fernandez in goal tonight; since he used to play for the Wild, he's got plenty of experience against their Northwest Division rival Canucks. Also, hopefully the staff at General Motors Place knows how not to fuck up the markings on the ice.

Little-known fact: It was actually the 1982 Canucks who pioneered the use of Towel Power at hockey games. Only since it's Canada, they'd never call them Terrible Towels. They'd call them "Somewhat Unpleasant Towels" or something polite and inoffensive like that. Eh?


Frivolous wager of the night: Oh my god. I don't actually know where to set the over-under for hyperbolic montages from the Celts/Cavs series from the playoffs last season. 1,000? 100,000? It could be infinity times pi and I'd still advise you to take the over. I'm actually grateful that this game is on NBA on TNT (where the 70s are still alive and kicking!) because it means that we might actually get something approximating even-handed coverage. I do enjoy Mike and Tommy on occasion, but I fear that Tommy might actually implode during a homeristic frenzy were he calling this game. Let's leave that be and go with Over-Under on Times Wally Szcerbiak Trips Because He's Busy Staring At His Reflection In The Parquet: 8.5. Takers? Our bookies accept payment in Tommy Points!

Serious prediction of the night: Celts by 8. Think I'm a homer? Originally, I had Celts by 80. I'm so jazzed to hear Eddie Palladino's voice booming out over the Garden I might just make it Celts by 800. This message approved by Tommy Heinsohn.

Celtics Porn Preview: The Centers

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Since it’s (/cue campy Broadway music…da..da..da…) Opening Night for the Celtics, it’s due time we finish up the Porn Previews and discuss the Centers:


Kendrick Perkins as ATM – To pornography aficionados, ATM doesn’t necessarily stand for Automated Teller Machine. No, it’s something far more sinister – a budding genre of porn called “Ass to Mouth,” defined by Wikipedia as such:

Ass-to-mouth is a colloquial term for the removal of the penis from the passive partner's anus followed by the immediate insertion of the penis into the passive partner's or another partner's mouth.

Yes, children, the Big New Thing in porn involves women, obviously with very low self esteem and little regard for their taste buds, tasting their own ass-juices after being penetrated anally, all in the name of more sales/downloads. Some people find it quite erotic, though I just find it quite brutal and demoralizing. While I doubt that Perk has ever tasted his own dingleberries, the comparisons to girls with the utmost low in self-esteem is apt, as Perk is clearly the No. 5 offensive option in the Celtics starting five, so far behind the other four that it frankly has to be a little depressing to be Perk. Pass him the damn ball every once in a while! And yet, like ATM girls, Perk sacrifices himself for the good of the team. We love you Perk, and still will even if you happen to horribly degrade yourself publicly years from now.


Patrick O’Bryant as Soft Core Porn – A few days ago, C’s coach Doc Rivers took a dig at his new backup center by stating that “there’s Patrick speed and then there’s Celtics speed.” O’Bryant also carried with him from Golden State a reputation of being a lottery bust, overly soft, and generally on the last legs of what had already been a sad career. This description follows the EXACT same career path of the actresses that have graced the post-11:30 timeslots of Cinemax for years, starring in such classics as “Bikini Car Wash” and “Emmanuelle in Space.” Once-promising starlets, seeing their career fall into the shitter, take the ready and waiting cash of soft-core porn, where they get topless and rub on a guy’s stomach in slow motion. In a related story, my family subscribed to Cinemax throughout the entirety of my high school tenure. “The Naked Detetcitve” sure helped relieve the tension of dateless Friday nights. Thanks Mom and Dad!


Glen Davis as BBW Porn – “BBW” obviously stands for “Big Beautiful Woman,” a genre of porn in which largesse and excess adipose tissue is celebrated. Those familiar with my acerbic wit may think that I would now take this opportunity to mock the “fatties” and say inappropriate things like “look at the blubber fly!”

But Nay, good reader, I instead am choosing now to praise the Rubenesque form, if only because its resemblance to one of my favorite Celtics, Big Baby Davis. Big girls, as maxim goes, do in fact try harder, and so does Big Baby, using his roly-poly-ness to abilities far exceeding what one would expect from someone of his, um, build. And, as I learned in college, sometimes you just need the added enthusiasm and energy of a Big Girl after too many nights with Skelewhores, the same type of energy that Davis brings off the bench. So to Glen Davis and those whose body type may resemble his, we at Mass Hysteria salute you.

Though seriously, get to the gym once in a while, being that big is probably bad for your heart and pancreas.

Monday, October 27, 2008

An Exclusive Interview with the "Sex Rod" Creator

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In July of 2005, an enterprising Red Sox fan named Brad Francis Sherman attempted to trademark the above logo for use on t-shirts, hats, etc. The Red Sox filed an opposition to his trademark, and three years later, a court upheld their opposition, banning Brad from using the logo for his financial gain. The court decision was featured on CNBC and AOL Fanhouse among others, but we at Mass Hysteria have obtained the first official interview from Mr. Sherman himself:

You've been listed as a New Yorker by various media outlets. Please explain, for those that do not happen to know you, the full extent of your Red Sox and Boston fandom, including any and all bodily harm that you've inflicted/had inflicted on you for your love of Boston sports.

I’m a Bostonian living in New York, which beats being a straight-up Bostonian or worse yet, a New Yorker. It’s the best of both worlds – all the benefits of superior sports allegiances but in the city with hotter chicks.

I hate the Yankees. Always have. Hate them even more since moving to New York. I shredded every tendon in my right hand punching a concrete wall the moment Aaron Boone’s bat connected with Wake’s ill-fated floater back in ’03. My hand looked like something from one of those Dexter ads.

I’m fairly certain I engaged in various modes of antisocial behavior after the Super Bowl last year. That was the worst day ever. The balls of my feet hurt for months after that night. I’m not sure what happened.



I see a lot of Red Sox-esque shirts and apparel floating around. Why don't these people end up in court, or do they?

I’m no expert but I have a feeling that the likelihood of ending up in court is directly proportional to the profitability of the shirt/apparel business in question.


How drunk were you when you came up with the idea for "Sex Rod?"


Back in 7th grade our class went on an outing to Fenway. Six classmates attended shirtless, each with a different letter of ‘RED SOX’ painted on his chest. 7th grade humor ensued. Years later it struck me as a good idea for t-shirts. And condom wrappers.


Describe the process you went through in filing the trademark, and how you came to find out the Sox objected to your idea.

I knew I wanted to sell the t-shirts, but figured that if I ever made any money off the idea I’d end up in court or shut down. So I thought it better to preempt and file for a trademark up-front. If I was going to end up in court, might as well make it a battle of ideas I might actually win than a battle of competing document requests. I'm not a lawyer. I have no stomach for that sort of thing.

Filing was a piece of cake. They even allow you to file the papers online, which made the process that much easier. The attorney assigned to the case at the board was extremely helpful and attentive. The board’s opinions blow, but their personnel were great.

As for finding out the Sox objected, I was waiting for their call, essentially. The call itself was from a partner at their Intellectual Property law firm. I felt honored they stuck the big dog on me right away.



How many times did you have to appear in court? How much did this whole thing cost you? How much do you estimate it cost the Sox?

Not once. I had visions of packed galleries championing the common man. No such luck. Turns out these trademark affairs are conducted almost entirely though documents. The only cost associated with the entire thing was the up-front filing fee. A couple of my attorney-type friends have estimated that the Sox may have sunk 6 figures into the battle. If that means no more Mike Timlin, then it was worth it.


How did the Red Sox end up winning this case? Was there any legal precedent they cited?

This case actually ended up becoming a precedent. They beat me on two counts, I won on two. Unfortunately that doesn’t make it a draw. They got me on vulgarity and lack of bona fide intent to use, both of which strike me as BS. Who needs a business plan to sell t-shirts over the internet?



The news reports note that you hoped to put your logo on over 100 items. What were some of the more obscure items which you hoped to shoot your Sex Rod all over?

Anoraks and ascots. Would not have wanted to rule out the all-important Inuit and douchebag fan bases. I just filed for everything under the category that contained t-shirts. I had no idea you could pick and choose.



Some of your prospective items were for children. At which stage in child development does the Sex Rod begin its formation?

The sex rod begins at conception.


Due to a completely unsubstantiated rumor that I just came up with, you also planned to open a string of gay bars with the "Sex Rod" name. Is this now-published rumor true or false? Even if it's false, being named "the man behind the Sex Rod" sounds a little gay, does it not?

True. Extremely, and I’m OK with that.



If you were to purchase an item in Target that would most qualify as a Sex Rod, what would it be and why?

Do they sell dildos? Cucumbers? Otherwise I got nothin’. If I were an artist, my medium would not be subtlety.



Who is a sexier Rod? Rod Laver, Rod Flanders or Rod Barajas? If not one of these three, which Rod do you find the sexiest?

Rod Laver. No brainer. For the footwear. Awesome kicks. Rod Barajas named his kid Rod Jr., so he’s a close second.


If one were to wear a "Sex Rod" t-shirt while wearing a pair of calf-length red socks, would that make them more or less of a Sex Rod?

What are you? A lawyer?



If you were to design a Sex Rod sex toy, what features would it have, and what size batteries would it require?

Relay baton overstock. No batteries required.



Does a Sex Rod have any sort of magnetic pull, and if so, how does this affect global warming?

All magnetism, figurative and otherwise is attributable to sex rods. Global warming is a myth concocted by New York liberals like me.


Have you considered sidestepping this legal issue by changing your official name to Sex Rod, kinda like the Ultimate Warrior or World B. Free?

Lloyd Bernard Free’s parents already had him 2/3 of the way there. My parents lack such vision. Maybe I should start slow and just change my first name to “Sex”.



Are you pissed that now everyone knows that your middle name is Francis?

I love the middle name. Anyone who doesn’t can take it up with Francis Albert Sinatra.

Celtics Porn Preview: The Forwards

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Last week, we discussed the Celtics guards through the grand medium of pornography, in all its splendor. Today. The forwards:



Paul Pierce as Contract Girl Porn – In pornography, the absolute best, the cream-on-their-face of the crop, are signed to exclusive contracts with various porn publishers, who give these women a whole lot of money to make films only for their production company. These girls are the most well-known and generally best-looking in the industry, and are paid as such. They fuck like pros, look like a million bucks, and can make men’s knees wobble at their mere presence. When you, the average masturbator, are looking for that go-to-girl to spend the next three and a half minutes fantasizing about, chances are, she’s a Contract girl.

Paul Pierce epitomizes that ultra-high standard in every way. He’s our go-to scorer, as evidenced by his epic playoff performances and generally amazing standard of play set over the last 10 years. He’s a lifetime Celtic, and will hopefully retire in the Green that he has worn proudly since 1998. He’s a pro’s pro, and one of the greatest Celtics to ever wear the uniform. And while I haven’t masturbated to his image, I was mildly aroused during Game 7 of the Cavs series, when he scored 41 boneriffic points. I’ve said too much.

Kevin Garnett as Interracial Porn – Now I don’t consider myself a racist, or predjudiced against our African-American brethren in any way. In fact, I’m somewhat envious of the fact that black people, at least stereotypically, are much cooler, smoother, and have larger penises than me and my fellow Caucasians.


Given that, and given my extensive research in pornography, I feel qualified to compare Kevin Garnett, one of the greatest forwards of our day, to interracial porn. You see, with interracial porn (I’m specifically referring to black guy/white girl here), there is little in the way of foreplay, or backstory, or anything remotely lovey-dovey. The case is, instead, rather straightforward: Black guy sees white girl. Very soon thereafter, black guy lays sizable pipe into white girl. Black guy proceeds to fill white girl out like an application. White girl may or may not suffer internal bleeding from sheer size and force of black guy’s member.

Such is the play of Kevin Garnett. There is no foreplay. There is no cuddling. There is simply straight banging – whether it be on the boards, towards the rim, or against the helpless carcass of his opponent. Often, as in interracial porn, internal injuries are caused within Garnett’s victim. He is, simply put, the Lexington Steele of basketball.


Leon Powe as Bondage Porn - Bondage porn is based on the idea that intense feelings of gratification and sexual release can come after long periods of torture or shackling to some stationary object. For Powe, that stationary object happens to be the bench, where he sits for the majority of the game, only to cause Celtics fans feelings of intense pleasure and release when his bench-shackles are released and he is allowed on the court. Did you know that Powe had the 10th highest Player Efficiency Rating of any power forward in the league last year? That’s ahead of All-Stars Antawn Jamison and David West. You’d think that someone with that sort of effectiveness would play 30+ minutes a game, no? But Doc Rivers instead keeps Leon in Bondage on the bench, and relegates us to small intense bursts of ecstacy whe he’s on the court.

Bill Walker as Teen Porn – Fresh out of high school (or Kansas State, which is essentially high school)? From a small backwater town? A little damaged, be it psychologically (playing high school ball with OJ Mayo) or physically (two reconstructed knees)? Take a risk, pack up your things and move to the big city, where we can exploit your obvious physical gifts, pay you a healthy wage, and compromise your Southern values. Walker has also earned the Teen Porn award for trying to disrespect his elders at every opportunity, as shown here:




Brian Scalabrine as Midget Porn – Midgets, as we all know, are here only for our amusement, whether it be as part of a carnival, wrestling show, or running their own farm on “Little People, Big World.” No one actually can possibly get off to midget porn, its presence is simply there for the sake of comedy, much like Brian Scalabrine’s presence on the Celtics roster. Hey look everyone, it’s the big Ginger Kid on the bench! Look at him try to do real basketball player things like dribble, shoot and rap! What a goofball! Now everyone point, laugh, and feel better about yourself knowing that you don’t have to suffer through life with his affliction.


Midgets. Basketball. Now if only we could have a picture of midgets playing basketball...

Jackpot.

The Patriots, Teddy Kennedy and Whitey Bulger: Week 8 Recap

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Here in Massachusetts we have had our fair share of infamous criminals. From the witches of Salem to Nelson Rockefeller, our streets have had their share of crooks, scam artists, and cheaters. In honor of the New England Patriots, we at MH would like to incorporate these crooks into our game recap of last Sundays game. Enjoy your mini-history lesson!

The Sacco and Vanzetti Award: The two most famous Guineas in Massachusetts history, they were torched on the electric chair for a murder they probably didn't commit. Back in the day, us Bostonian's didn't take kindly to their type and killed them mainly for having crazy mustaches and a love of cannolis. This award goes to the player who has made mistakes in the past, but should be exonerated after this past weekend.

This week the S+C award goes to Deltha O'Neal, a player I had given up for dead weeks ago after watching him get torched by Philip Rivers all game. He looked washed up and was struggling covering receivers bigger then him. Guess all it took was a game against Marc Bulger to change all that. Even with an injury that had Deltha on the sideline to start the game, he made the big play to seal the game. So maybe it is time to get him off of death row and back into the good graces of Patriots Nation. Though when Reggie Wayne scorches him for 12 catches and 150 yards, I'll personally strap him in myself.

The Ted Kennedy Award
: This award goes to a player who should just throw himself off a bridge. Their play was so bad, it was like a Senator drove his car over a bridge with a passenger, while drunk. If improvement is not seen in this player soon,a trip off the Chappaquiddick might be the solution.

The winner of this weeks award is Billy Yates. Billy you have two jobs, block so that our running backs can run the ball and keep Matt Cassel from getting killed. Yesterday you failed to do both. I know you are a backup, not used to playing with the big boys, but man this is your chance. Basically right now you are a 300 pound blocking dummy that any NFL lineman with two hands and a pulse can get around. If you can't block against defenses like Denver and St. Louis, well it might be time to drive your NFL career off a bridge.

The Louise Woodward Award.
For those of you who don't know Woodward was a young British nanny who shook an infant to death. Evidently its a bad thing to take a 20 pound helpless baby, and shake it so hard that its brain swells to the point all vital organs fail. She received very little jail time for killing the baby. This award goes to a player who showed the tenacity to destroy a far inferior opponent.

The winner of the Louise Woodward award goes to Adalius Thomas. Thomas has had quite the impressive past two weeks. With 10.5 tackles and 3 sacks he has become the destructive defensive force everyone has hoped he would be. Marc Bulger needed a diaper in the second half to prevent the shit storm that was flying his way.

The Boston Strangler was a person or persons who iced 10 people in Boston during two different phases of the 1960's. Though Alberto DeSalvo confessed to the killings most historians doubt the validity of his confessions, probably because he was bonkers. DeSalvo went to the grave(after getting stuck by an inmate in prison)confessing to the murders, but the real killer(s) are probably still out there yet no one can find them. This award goes to the player who completely disappeared during the game.

The Boston Strangler Award Goes to: Benjamin Watson. Ok, maybe I am just being harsh on him because he was my starting TE and I expected him to at least contribute to my fantasy team. 7 points for the year later, and he rots on my bench. When the Patriots drafted him out of Georgia the talk was all about his receiving skills, how he would be a great target for Brady and be a threat against even the most potent D's. Season after season of injuries later, and Watson appears completely irrelevant on the field (when he is actually playing). With a QB who is hesitant to go deep, Watson should be one of his primary targets. Yet games go by with Watson hauling in one catch and half the time I forget he is even on the field. I think its time the Pats look for a Tight End who can catch the ball and stay on the field. Draft maybe?

The Whitey Bulger Award. Most infamous of all Boston criminals, Bulger WAS organized crime in Massachusetts for the past 30 years. He was feared and respected by all, and no one has a clue where he is right now. Is he in Italy, Canada or buried in your back yard? No one knows. This award goes to the MVP of the game.


The first Whitey Bulger Award Recipient is Kevin Faulk. When he isn't getting suspended for smoking weed at a Lil Wayne concert, Faulk is the epitomy of a team player. Whether its returning punts, blocking on passing downs or running his patented short screen routes Faulk does everything. Yesterday was a prime example of how valuable he is to the Patriots. With 115 all purpose yards, Faulk made the play of the game with a one handed touchdown catch to put the Pats up for good.

The Bill Belichick Game Recap Our favorite criminal, he has given the rest of football fans a reason to hate us. Because Bill seems to analyze games well before a game, during the game, and by watching illegal tapes. This is our chance to look back at the game, look forward to next week and learn from mistakes.

This game was loaded with the good and the bad. Matt Cassel started the game looking confident and making good reads on the field, but looked lost when he threw 2 picks in the second half (true one was Welker's fault for falling down). The defense really picked it up in the 2nd quarter after getting torched on a series of big plays by Donnie Avery and Antonio Pittman. In the second half Thomas, Seymour and Ty Warren caused mayhem on Marc Bulger and limited the Rams to FG's. Next weekend the Pats are heading to Indy for a Sunday night matchup with the Colts. Neither team is anywhere near as dominant as they have been in the past, and this game could really be a statement game on where the Pats and Colts stand this season.

/You are not getting a BC recap from me, Saturday's game against UNC made me violently ill.