Spheno Palatine Gangleoneuralgia

DAMN YOU MCDONALDS MOCHA FRAPPE!!!!

...

ok, i'm better now

NHL Trivia: Atlanta Thrashers

I lied... No trivia. Only fun.

Porkins: The Rudolph of Star Wars

A distant relative of Jabba the Hut, Jek Porkins was never taken seriously by his squadron. His size earned him the role of social outcast, and was shunned by most others.

One his last mission, to destroy the Death Star, his X-Wing malfunctioned. Instead of covering him, or providing support, he was told to eject.

-- Eject. Into space. Without a space suit. --

Well, assuming that he wouldn't suffocate after the initial ejection from his X-Wing, what would happen next? His initial speed and gravity would probably send him hurling into a large hunk of metal, on the very objective that was to be destroyed.

He's got a bit more padding than most, so he may have a .001% higher chance of surviving the impact. If by the off chance he does survive, what next? Teleport back to the Enterprise? Break into the Death Star, steal a TIE Fighter, and fly back out to the fight (where you'd probably be blown up by an X-Wing)?? WHAT NEXT!?

Even after rounding up, his chances of survival after ejection were 0.00% His squad wanted him gone. Who knew that turbo laser could hit such a small target. If it happened again, he probably could have escaped unscathed, no thanks to the advice of his comrades.

The point is, Porkins never had a chance. He was large and smelled of eggs, and was hated for it. I'm surprised they didn't tell him to "ram the Death Star to disable their power grid" or some bs.

"Hey Porkins, what's the name of that restaurant you like with all the goofy shit on the wall and the mozzarella sticks?"
"You mean Shenanigans?"

Operation: Little League

I've been to the future, and I'm sure that you all know this by now. But one of my greatest and proudest moments as a father came from a date not to far ahead.

My son Joseph grew up to be a terrific baseball player. In the 4th grade, he played in an international league on the American team (duh.) This team was full of heroes:

• Larry the all-star homerun hitter, but bad in the field
• Franklin, the all-star shortstop, but a clutz at the plate
• Sammy, the all-star pitcher, but he smelled really bad

But Joseph was great at all the aspects of the game AND didn't smell like a fart sandwich with extra mayo. He was the real hero of the team.

So it was the end of the season, and the American team was up against the infamous Indian team. They wore red and blue uniforms with large snake symbols on there chests and backs. Terrifying. Their team was made up of some pretty good players, but their main star was a kid by the name of Bra. He wasn't the best at bat or on the field, but he was crafty. His slyness and extraordinary leadership lead his team to an undefeated season to this point. Bra was our main threat to a flawless season.

On game day, Joseph and I got caught in a huge traffic jam on our way to the field in our hover car. When we finally arrived at the field, the game was in the last inning, and the American team was down by one run. Things weren't looking good. As we got to the dugout, one of the parents on the Indian's bleachers stood up, pointed at my son, and shouted in agony "Oh no! The real American hero! Joe is there!"

At that point the parents on each set of bleachers really got into the game. Joseph put on his helmet, took his bat and walked up to the plate. The bases were loaded, and Bra was pitching. The crowds started chanting. The American parents started to cheer on there number one star as the Indian's did the same. "Go Joe" and "Go Bra" were heard shouted back and forth. "Gooo Joe!" "Go-Bra!" "Goooooooo Joe!" GoBra!"

The pitch.

WHACK!!! Joseph clobbered it. The ball flew way over the heads of the Indian outfielders. In a rather high pitched and raspy voice, Bra yelled to his teammates "Retreat! Retreat! You must catch the ball from behind where you are now!" But it was too late. Home run! The American's have triumphed!

What a day... that will be

Oh, and after the game, one of the Indian's parents, dressed in mostly yellow and gold and a cape, attacked me. In a quick defensive move, I threw him onto the B.E.T. I remember the distinct smell of burnt serpent.

Million Dollar Ideas: iPood - For Babies

Are you tired of your baby not being as cool and hip as other babies on your block? Ever feel like the other babies are making fun of your baby because they have more toys and gadgets? Well worry no more! I've got a product that will say "I'm a techo-hip baby" and "My parents don't have to smell me" in one snazy gadget.

The iPood - For Babies

Go no longer with your nose in your child's diaper. The iPood sits comfortably in your babies diaper and offers an easy to read screen detailing every poopy moment. When the time comes, the iPood will play music and flash, alerting the 2 senses least appalled by baby feces, that it's time for a change.

This clever device also has a memory feature to record these moments for you to cherish and re-live when you find yourself missing "the baby years."

The "iPotted - For Older Folk" might not do as well, but the market is rich.