ICYMI: Happy Gilmore returns to kick Bob Barker’s Ass!

In case you missed it…

If you don’t understand the title of the article, please leave.

Now that that’s out of the way, Comedy Central has done us all a massive favour by bringing Adam Sandler and Bob Barker back together on screen.  The two famously kicked each other’s asses in Happy Gilmore back in 1996 (yes, seriously, that was 1996), and we have all been itching for a rematch since the credits rolled.

You’ve waited almost 20 years for this… so wait no longer:

The price is still wrong, bitch

Now, if they could only convince Sandler to do nothing but sequel skits to his mid-90’s catalogue, we would all live in a much better world.  Until then, feel free to re-live the original film’s glory…

Oh, and Bob?  You haven’t aged a day!

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NHL: Florida Panthers hold public TRYOUTS for goalie position…

While admittedly not as awesome as it sounds, this is still remarkable.

The NHL’s Florida Panthers today announced their intent to hold public tryouts for a practice goalie after stud starter Roberto Luongo and (mostly mediocre) back-up Al Montoya both suffered injuries during the team’s game against the (fully mediocre) Toronto Maple Leafs on Tuesday night.


“Does it hurt when I press here?”

After both goalies were injured, the team considered using an assistant coach or depth player to fill the role; however, they determined it to be a better, and likely hilarious (or conversely heart-warming, endearing, or the far-more-likely ‘ticket-selling’) option to look to the public for support.  Successful applicants will be invited to join the Panthers at practice, and the two that remain standing will go head to head during an intermission of the Panthers’ upcoming game against the Canadiens for the ultimate prize: a one-day contract to play as the Panthers’ back-up goalie during practice.

While this is definitely not as awesome as getting to play back-up in a real game, never mind getting to start the game, it does certainly raise interest in not only the NHL, but in the small-market Florida Panthers… not to mention pave the way for a Disney-funded rags-to-riches tale should the winning goalie actually be something special.

It does, however, also remind me of this debacle.

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India’s Holi 2015 / OR Awesomeness we’re missing out on…

As the sun crosses what is known as the celestial equator towards the end of March we, as North Americans, will pass officially into spring.  Until then, unfortunately, we are in what only seems to be the middle of a very long, cold winter, eager for any sort of reprieve.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Earth, people in India are celebrating their coming of spring today, March 6th, in one of the greatest ways that one could imagine: having an all-out, no holds barred colour fight (the word fight, here, being used in a sort of gleeful opposition, rather than anything nasty).


Various munitions, forged from captured rainbows.

Known as the festival of love or festival of colours, Holi is a time to welcome spring and to celebrate nature by flinging colourful powders and water on your friends, family and total strangers, both old and young – and as long as you’re out on the streets or in a public space, you are fair game as a target.

Best Holi 2015 colours shop in USA

Tragedy today, as an explosion rips through the Kool-Aid factory.

While not celebrated exclusively by Hindus, Holi is rooted in ancient Hindu belief and is also a day for forgiving, forgetting, and starting anew – practices that many people, not just of Hindu faith or Indian descent, can surely appreciate the value of.

The festival (which in some parts of India lasts 16 days!) is marked by singing, dancing, and ritual bonfires, and is an opportunity for the community to come together, have fun, and strengthen their bonds.

Well done, India… save some ammunition for me for next year.


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ICYMI: Weasel Hitches Ride on Woodpecker’s Back, Internet Responds

In case you missed it…

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In something straight out of a Pixar-Disney collaboration (is that still a thing anymore?), amateur photographer Martin Le-May of Essex, UK, caught a weasel riding on the back of a woodpecker on camera.

Even better than this, however, has been the internet’s response to this amazing picture, and the birth of #WeaselPecker over on Twitter.  Behold, the glory:

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Click the above image for #WeaselPecker greatness on Twitter.

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Life-sized Clown-bot Recovered From Sex Offender’s Home

Police officers have a hard job; they are, on a nearly daily basis, confronted with unsavory people and situations, throughout which they must remain professional, courteous, and helpful.  Sometimes this means breaking up a fight between people in line at the welfare office… other times it means going undercover in order to catch drug dealers, human traffickers and organized crime… and sometimes it means raiding a registered sex offender’s house after receiving a phone tip that the occupant was hiding a stolen child-sized robotic clown that’s worth somewhere in the neighbourhood of ten thousand dollars.

Earlier this month, this is precisely what police in Wichita, Kansas, were tasked with: the retrieval of a organ-playing robo-clown named Louie that had gone missing from a theme park called Joyland more than a goddamned decade ago.

Damian Mayes, a fully-grown 39-year-old man, was harbouring the clown after (presumably) building a long-standing relationship with it during his previous tenure as organ builder / repairman at Joyland, and is now serving a prison term for child sex offences.

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No caption can make this funnier.  This actually happened.

Of course, before anybody could rest easy, the identity of the clown needed to be confirmed.  Cue Kansas’ very own news anchor, Deb Farris, on what had to be the slowest news day of all time:

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Nelson, who we will assume for the sake of hilarity is the clown’s father and / or the forensic officer that studied Louie’s dental records to confirm his identity, remained without (worthwhile) comment, and there is no word on what “other items” may be recovered, though one can expect Louie’s water-squirting flower and juggling pins to turn up sooner or later.

Farris, meanwhile, has gone on to tweet about more meaningful things, such as the testing of tornado sirens and how uncomfortable it makes her to be stuck in traffic next to trucks that are explosive.

Turns out a news day with life-sized clown dolls is pretty crackin’.

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Sorry, America: You’re Still Kind of Racist

Let me make one thing clear before getting into this story: I am not anti-America.  I think America can (and should) stand for good in this world, however, I also believe that parts of it are absolutely not doing that.  I am, alternatively, pro-people; I believe in universal human rights – like having the freedoms of speech and mobility, as well as the right to a due process if accused of some crime, and the right to unbiased decisions based on race, creed or sexual orientation.  These last rights, however, are still regularly being ignored and, despite the fact that equality is at an all-time high in not only North America, but the world (though I’m not blind to the lengths we as a species still need to go), sexual and racial biases, even segregation, continue to persist.

While it may not only be America that is guilty of these egregious missteps in relation to what is becoming more and more socially acceptable and normal, it is America that is in the spotlight.

First, the issue – a high school in Wilcox county, Georgia, holds annually two proms: one for the black students, and one for the white students.  This high school, however, has not broken any civil rights laws as these proms are funded by the parents and students within the school, thereby making them hosts of the events, and thereby responsible for their message.  The school, however, does condone these segregated dances, and has some form of input as to their running.


1950s or Wilcox County, Georgia, this afternoon?  You decide.

The reason that this is only now in the media’s spotlight is because several students at this school, specifically four girls who are best friends (of which two are white, and two of African-American descent), have taken it upon themselves to raise the money for the school’s first integrated prom.  This means that, until the year 2013, no student, parent, or educational/governmental group in the area has made any kind of serious effort to put on a prom that would see all students get to attend the same dance, regardless of race or creed.  Furthermore, the school also holds separate homecoming events for each race.

“We are all friends,” one of the girls told the local press.  “That’s just kind of not right that we can’t go to prom together.”

Now, I’m not a doctor.  I’m also not a rocket scientist, civil rights expert, or law-maker, but when a few 16 year old girls are the only people making rational statements to the press about the right or wrongness of separating students by race, and in the year 2013 mind you, it may be time to reevaluate your whole approach to life.  Look around, Georgia… America… times have changed and (holy shit) it’s about time you did too.

If at this point you’re asking yourself why some sort of protest hasn’t happened, here’s your answer: last year, when a bi-racial student attempted to attend the white-only prom, police were called in to ask him to leave the premises.  In the school’s own lame attempt to unify this school, however, this year they have decided that there will be only one prom king and one prom queen – thought it won’t really make a difference as the Queen is a black student and the King is a white student, so they’ll never have a dance together and were not even allowed to be photographed together for the school yearbook.

If you aren’t disgusted yet, this:  the four girls who have bravely taken on the task of holding this integrated prom have run into some problems along the way… the girls, after putting posters up in the halls for the integrated prom have actually had “people ripping them down at the school” probably out of a fear of change or just because whythefucknot.

Is it time for a country-wide standard on these types of issues?  I hesitate, as well, to use the word “issues” because, really, why is it even an issue at all?  Just when you think we, as a people, have grown up, have found some common sense, or otherwise changed for the better, you stumble upon a story like this and it feels like maybe we deserve to be blind-sided by a continent-sized asteroid.

As far as I’m concerned the focus should be on whether this segregation is right-or-wrong on the whole, and the answer, I think, is fairly black and white.

(Pun intended.)

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April FOOLED: Airline’s Pay-By-Weight Policy is NO JOKE

Standing in the check-in line at an airport, contemplating excess baggage fees and what we might get gouged should we be over a single percentage of a kilo is a common occurrence.  Often, and unintentional help from sizeable people either next to us in line or on the plane itself, people wonder why it is that the passenger’s weight isn’t taken into account when these excess baggage fees are levied – if I’m over by 2 kilos on my carry-on, but the man behind me is 40 kilos heavier in weight and 1 kilo light on his bag, why am I the only one paying?  Where’s the justice?

While it would be officially late had it actually been intended as an April Fool’s joke, Samoa Air‘s “world first” pay-by-weight policy is, in fact, not intended to be any semblance of a joke.  “Airlines,” points out Samoa Air’s big boss Chris Langton, “run on weight,” and smaller aircraft demand “less variance” in the weight of passengers.


I may or may not have just completely filled the toilet.  Saw-rayyy.

In 2011, Air New Zealand offered a similar, though true prank on April 1st that was actually a total joke.  Does this type of pricing model bother you?  Is it a benefit?  While New Zealand’s 3 News has reported that the inventive method of ticketing may not actually save you that much money, you can be the judge for yourself by calculating you own weight/cost.  Prices range from $0.50 to $2.oo a kilogram (2.20lbs), though are dependent on the route you travel.  Also, you’ll probably need to be in the southern hemisphere and living near New Zealand to make any use of this – get on it, Kiwis!!

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Ontario’s ‘Social Farter’ Campaign Takes Aim at So-Called ‘Social Smokers’

We all have that friend – the so-called ‘social‘ smoker, someone who only typically lights up on weekends or while drinking; they insist that they are, in fact, not actually a smoker, probably because they don’t want to be associated with the yellow nails/teeth and mentally-tangible stench that accompanies such a label.  Ontario’s Health Minister, however, has done the rest of society a favour by calling these people out on their horseshit stance by running a new campaign entitled Quit the Denial.

The campaign focusses on a direct comparison between farting and smoking, and even creates what they term a social-farter, someone who farts only around friends, at parties, and to, and I quote, “break the ice.”


Either that’s a really good fart, or her ass just took a drag on a wicked ciggy!

“Well it’s true that I fart,” begins the girl in the ad, “but I wouldn’t call myself a farter,” she says as if there’s a terrible stigma attached to the phrase.”

“I’m a social farter.”

In what is perhaps the best line from the advert, and the most potent mockery of social smoking, the girl quietly admits that she will use farting as a way to meet a new guy.  The ad cuts away to her asking a fellow party-goer if he’d “like to go outside for a fart.”  The man replies with restrained enthusiasm: yes.

Check out the ad below – pass it on to your “social smoking” friends and let them know one thing: that social smoking is just as ridiculous as social farting… and both stink.

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Fresh Out of Jail? Have a Steak – Then a Massive Heart Attack!

Thursday afternoon a man named David Ranta, convicted in the 1990 killing of a Brooklyn Rabbi (named Chaskel Werzberger), and having already served 23 out of the 37 years he was sentenced, was released into the wild (or freedom, whatever you’d like to call it) after it was found that he had been wrongfully accused of the crime.  In a shining testament to the power of justice in America, Ranta was convicted on the strength of a 13-year-old witness who had been coached by detectives to pick him out of a lineup despite the fact that no physical evidence existed to tie him to the crime (shooting Rabbi Werzberger in the head after a bungled jewel heist).


Prosecutors are required, by law, to laugh at the convicted person(s) upon sentences of 30 years or greater.

Upon his release, Ranta was quoted as saying he was “overwhelmed” (no shit) and felt like he was “under water, swimming,” which would suggest that Ranta did not at all work on his analogies while locked up.  He then went out for a steak dinner and, according to his sister, began to feel ill afterwards, suffering a serious heart attack later that evening.

“The accumulated trauma of being falsely convicted and incarcerated for 23 years,” said Ranta’s lawyer Pierre Sussman, in a quote from the Daily News, “coupled with the intense emotions experienced surrounding his release, has had a profound impact on his health.”  Ranta is, however, in good spirits having survived the heart attack and plans to relax and reconnect with his family now that he’s free to do so.  Oh, and sue the city of New York and their police departments – that too.

The now-deceased actual killer, whose name has not been released, has been identified as such by his widow – you know, now that he will never have the chance to face the Big Apple’s brand of justice which, let’s face it, likely would have erroneously put him away for a couple of hours for spitting on the sidewalk.

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Aussie MMA Announcer Can’t Stop Talking About His Anus

Endearing.  Interesting.  Mysterious.  Sexy.  These are the ways people describe foreign accents; North American women often swoon over the prospect of being hit on by a British or Australian man, that is, before they get called the dreaded C-word (in that effervescent way only a Brit or Aussie can deliver such a word).

Ignoring the colourful language, accents often give way to certain phrases sounding like something else entirely; for instance, ‘raise up lights’ sounds just like Australian ‘razor blades,’ and ‘good eye might’ is, obviously, an easy way to accidentally say ‘g’day mate,’ though we wonder why anyone would ever use the phrase good eye might.



In any case, sometimes the provider of the hilarity is completely unaware of what they’re saying and why it’s hilarious.  Enter Australian announcer Michael Schiavello doing his best work in last Friday’s fight between Danny Mainus and Zac Chavez.  Mainus, throughout the might, is referred to by Schiavello as what sounds like ‘my anus,’ lending itself perfectly to phrases commonly used in MMA broadcasting, such as ‘cut,’ ‘bleeding,’ and ‘getting pounded from behind with the ferocity of a velociraptor.  Enough talk: enjoy a compilation of the best moments from the fight below.

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