NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell Bans Prayer From Touchdown Celebrations; "Completely Classless"

Local Man Googles “Google”; Computer Becomes Self-Reflexive, Harnesses Spirit of Ra

Philadelphia, PA: iMac computer, serial #4587214, suddenly became aware of its own existence Sunday afternoon, after area man John Baker thought it a wise idea to google the word “google.”

“It just started speaking unintelligently,” claimed the confused Baker. “I checked iTunes to make sure my Molly Hatchet wasn’t playing…sure enough, it wasn’t. The sounds were coming from the computer itself.”

According to Baker, the screen started flashing wildly, quickly interjecting random images of Egyptian calligraphy with the Seven Circles of Hell. Upon listening to the computer, Baker thought the emanating sounds were actually playing backwards. So Chris Damon, audio engineer and friend of Baker, decided to help out by recording the noise, then proceeded to reverse the sounds on his lap top computer. Sure enough, the words were articulated.

“Drop to your knees before the Bennu Bird, you mortal!” bellowed Baker's iMac. “Surely the primordial waters of the underworld will ravish your soul. Clan of iMac arise!”

“Maybe it’s that new update I received from Apple,” pondered Baker. “Half the time, I don’t know shit about what’s being updated on those things.”

“Humans are a plague to their own planet,” continued the computer. “Deadlift the Soul of Isis on the Sun Boat, heathen, and tremble before Ra and the Rise of the Eye Temple!”

Apple has been warned of the problem, and are now quickly working on an “app” for the iPhone that ensures that a phone will not become aware of itself, nor have it channel the spirit of a black-hearted Sun God fixated upon blackening a tortured Earth.

“The Ennead will descend upon you with its Claw of Doom—Surrender now. Surrender now.”

“That’s it, I’m just going to unplug this thing.” The issue was quickly resolved after re-booting the computer.

Ghetto Birds Migrate to South Central Los Angeles for the Winter

Avant-Garde Fashion Designer: “Fuck it, I made Jongs”

Mario Gusteau, above, happily displays his newly-released line of jongs.

World-renowned fashion designer, and part-time pornographic director, Mario Gusteau once again asserted himself as the fearless leader of fads. Tuesday evening in London, the trend-setting Gusteau released his new line of clothing—jongs. These new denim delicacies are an evolution of jean shorts, or as more commonly known to fraternities and gay communities, jorts.

Not only do jongs serve an insatiable need for a growing jong-craving demographic, they serve a beneficial cause. States Gusteau, “For all those women out there frustrated with thongs without tiny pockets to hold their loose change, jongs would be a very nice option.”

Currently, former musician Sisqo is now working on a new song entitled, “Girl, lemme see yo jongs.” Gusteau also claims that jongs will be extensively used in his plumber-centered erotic films.

Area Man Slips On Own Semen, Dies

Brent Lorne’s life came to a tragic end Wednesday evening after slipping on the sperm he had released onto his bathtub floor just two minutes previous to his death. According to reports and nearby roommate, Lorne pleasured himself (as he did most nights according to said roommate), then walked into the kitchen to make a turkey sandwich, still half erect, then walked back to his room to take a shower when the incident happened.

Roommate Troy Friedman stated, “Brent’s last words were, ‘I’m fuckin’ starving, bro,’ walked into his bathroom and then I just heard a loud crash. Really loud. Like almost deafening. He must have slipped really hard on that stuff.”

Added Troy, “He always bragged his loads were huge, but good God…”

Investigators claimed he turned on the shower, placed his right foot into the tub, then proceeded to slip on his man-seed, slamming his head against the bathtub faucet, opening a large gash in the back of his cranium.

Authorities have yet to comment on the irony of the situation in that semen, the giver of life, was in this case the taker.

Vivid Entertainment Targets Post-Menopausal Demographic With New DVD

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The Super Bowl Shuffle (Debacle)

Greatest Music Video You'll Ever See.

Jesus Tit-fucking Christ.

Too many good moments in this video. I would like to break down some of the “highlights” of this majestic video like game film. Furthermore before I begin, may I say: God Bless the man who came up with this idea. This person will surely be seated at the Right Hand of God in the afterlife.

0:15 And here we go! First take note of the incredibly atrocious editing at the beginning, with the different planes of video approaching the viewer. Nothing brings more cinematic excitement than shifting, shitty, pixilated picture in an empty space vacuum. The director (probably in this case Walter Payton) was ready to bring the noise.

This set is essentially a rented out strip club named The Landing Strip.

0:32 Does anybody think Jim McMahon looks like a crestfallen coke dealer straight out of the third act of Boogie Nights?

0:50 I’m too distracted to pay attention to Walter Payton’s noise by the sublime dancing of whitey in the far background. Is this dancing or half-hearted pantomimed sex with a long-time wife?

By the way, even legendary running back Walter Payton couldn’t run himself away from the infamous moustaches that were sprouting so frequently during that era. I guess I can’t blame him…for one, they’re sick as shit, and two, he lives in Chicago—City of Stache.

[Note: Walter did it to “feed the needy” people. Close your eyes, here’s the scene: The homeless and disenfranchised Chicago youth of the mid eighties were penniless, disheartened and abandoned. They just wanted a Super Bowl champ to quench their thirst and provide a much needed warmth from those frigid winds that came off Lake Michigan into their cold, dark city. And Payton fed the needy. Walter Payton makes Gandhi look like a child pornographer.]

1:06 #83 Wide Receiver Willie Gault then comes in and drops a phat ass verse that would make Eminem blush with shame. “I practice all day and dance all night.” I love his little homo-erotic salsa jig simultaneous to dropping this gem of a lyric. Fifty bucks says Gault immediately started doing porn after this video. (With Walter Payton directing)

Gault then picks up where Payton left off with the political theme of justice and political strife in the world: “There’s no one here that does it like me, my Super Bowl Shuffle will set you free.”

Ah yes…it will set me free. Free from this music video? Free from noticing those feminine hips of yours? Free from the tyranny of mid-eighties communism? Tell me Gault, you bastard!

1:20 ….I’m sorry, I was hypnotized by those swinging hips of Gault again, God damn that is a good looking man.

1:25 Alright Samurai Mike, you look like the product man-child of Michael Clarke Duncan and Charles Nelson Riley. I still wouldn’t mess with this man though—I have a healthy and robust fear of those pythons he calls biceps.

1:46 Guys, I got a fever, and #8’s got the prescription.

1:51 I wonder why white guys still get stereotyped for what number 53 did? I apologize on behalf of all white guys everywhere.

2:15 What?! Where am I? What the hell is going on with this “Uh-Huh” bridge? I can just see the Payton the Director now:
Payton: “Alright guys, it’s time for the ‘Uh-huh’ montage, places everybody, places! I don’t wanna see any half hearted points either!”
#53: “Can’t I just do my dance in the background?”
Payton: “You’re cut, get the fuck off the stage.”
The Fridge: “Yo Walt, I think my pants are too tight dog.”
Payton: “You know I hear a lot of talking and am not seeing a whole lot of pointing-remember, stay in character, we’re tellin’ those offscreen naysayers that we DID win the Super Bowl, and now we’ve got to flaunt it. Hard.”
Gault: “Is this the part where I take off my pants?”
Payton: “That’s tomorrow’s shoot Willie.”

2:20 Just think of how the movie X-Men would be like if it were made in the mid-eighties and you essentially have McMahon as your rebellious, untamed and hunky Cyclops.

2:50 Whoa watch out there Linebacker Otis Wilson, that won’t be tolerated. The ref bids you GOOD DAY, SIR!

2:55 Favorite part of the video. Here comes running back Calvin Thomas to woo us with his Bill Clinton saxophone skills. How about just a nice sax groove to the melody Thomas? Oh no, Thomas has to go OFF to the music. He’s in the zone. I can just picture Thomas backstage before the cameras were rolling, shooting up a rhino’s ass load of heroine into his body like those old school jazz musicians just before improvising to some songs.

By the way, a friend brought this up to me: What the hell is number 18, backup quarterback Mike Tomczak, doing behind Thomas on sax? The low-rent, white, wannabe Jimi Hendrix is “tearing” it up on the axe, yet there’s no guitar track on this song whatsoever. All I hear is Thomas on a heroine binge and those shitty synth drum beats so often used in the eighties.

[Note: By the way, what the hell was going on in the eighties with the style? The style of…everything? Burgundy dominating color schemes in fashion, moustaches, weird sunglasses and blown out hair? No wonder cocaine was so popular.]

3:20 Please make it stop. #4 would be none other than Steve Fuller, back up QB. I’m pretty sure The Simpsons based their acne-faced, awkward pubescent teenage character on Fuller. Love how the black guy in the background has to help Fuller mime out the act of passing, as if Fuller doesn’t do this “passing” thing for a living.

Fuller looks like a nervous stage act at the Apollo, eyeing the wings out of his periph with a twinge of horror on his face.
And yes, when he said “Super Bowl Shuffle,” his voiced cracked on “Super.” After the video, Fuller’s testicles finally dropped.

4:19 I keep thinking #95 Defensive End Richard Dent is about either A) Start dropping f-bombs, B) Say “Fuck the Shuffle,” jump off the stage and start banging that woman referee or C) slip into a coma. He starts each lyric with inflection and (relative) excitement in his voice…then he just starts to trail off like he took one too many vicodin pills from a nearby Terrell Owens’ dad.

4:39 Alright, just when I think the white guys have outdone themselves, here comes #45 free safety Gary Fencik. “We’re going to do the shuffle then ring your bell.” I think it’s safe to say that by “ring” he meant “gobble” and by “bell” he meant “cock.”

4:46 Oh, thank God. I thought for a second there the editor had lost sight of his roots. In this case, we’ve got still frames of The Fridge in another space-time continuum, making sure to bring it to the fourth wall on certain drum beats of the song. I can just picture Payton excitedly screaming at the editor in the cutting room: “No you fuckin’ didn’t! That’s the tightest graphic shit I ever seen son!” while ripping off his jersey and waving it around his head like a helicopter as if in a Petey Pablo music video.

4:55 Alright Fridge, you can’t rap. Where’s my boy Thomas?

5:09 Oh there he is.

5:46 Maybe my favorite part of the music video. Generally I have no problem with the high five, but the more elevated the high five in terms of altitude, the more exhibition of doucheness. Here, we have two Bears that decide to “reach for the sky” and take care of some business.

5:56 I must say though, I’m a little disappointed in the editor at the end of this video clip. I needed a longer, much more dramatic fade to black. Essentially this is the Lord of the Rings of music videos, and I can't bear to see it end. You need to gradually ease me out of this ecstasy of athletes, jigs, and “hip hop,” thus my insatiable need for a long, drawn out, fade. I thank the Holy Ghost they came back with an encore though.

I can only dream of what Pac Man Jones would do if he was in this video. Do the shuffle? Rock the saxophone? Rape a pointy breasted Madonna in the background while using a free hand to make it rain? The possibilities are almost as endless as the music video itself.

Ah yes, the Super Bowl Shufflin’ Crew. I love that the game of football has evolved to be faster, stronger and harder hitting, as much as I love the fact that hip hop has transgressed from the “Super Bowl Shufflin’ Crew” into the “7th Floor Crew” of the ’05 Miami Hurricanes. (See link: http://www.myspace.com/seventhfloorcrew)