Yeah that's me; why do you ask?

Big day out for the world cup this past Saturday. Events of the day have been fairly well documented, but over the course of the day my roommate was especially awesome. And not just because he was in the full official Team USA dress-whites (yes, the real uniform - all he needed was a number). Here's a list of his witticisms, as captured during the adventure. Yeah I know, you kind of had to be there. So why weren't you?
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::looks up from texting::How do you spell "banana"?
I think they're making a videogame with all the x's on them n shit
::while texting:: Is "magic" with a j or g?
Its like a rosary! ::rubs Budweiser beads::
I need your fuckin energy and and focus here!! ::at strangers watching the game::
Pee in his mouth!
Check out these Washingtons!
My glasses are right here! ::pulls them out of sock:: Got em!
This is America!
Is h-u-g-e the same as h-u-g?
Fuckin team photo! Let's do this!
I can't wait to suck on her face. A lot.
Pinball wizard!!!
Do you have urinal bats in the women's restroom? Didn't think so
Where the fucks the mute button? ::stares at phone:: It says I need to press the mute button to unlock it!
Thank god its only...what time is it?
No its not Fahrenheit 454...
I don't know what to do with these ::stares at wristbands::(then out of nowhere Case says "make out with her!")
Spencer: You know the server was thinking, who are the douchebags in polyester pants?? Case: I'm the only one wearing polyester pants. Spencer: I know!!

Great sportswriting, old and new

I've enjoyed the posts from Joe Posnanski as he lends his analysis to the world cup. Usually he writes sophisticated analysis about baseball (unlike his hack associate, Tom Verducci, who is a god-awful moron), but for now he's writing unsophisticated analysis of the the greatest sporting spectacle in the world. He did a nice summary of the Nike commercial:

*The commercial in full is actually quite brilliant, I think, but it has doomed every major player involved. The first star in the full-length commercial, the Ivory Coast’s Didier Drogba, fractured his arm just before the World Cup began and was not much of a factor.

Fabio Cannavaro, Italy’s great star (and a former FIFA World Player of the Year), was the one watching the swinger guy singing his name while women did a dance in his honor after he cleared the ball out of the goal. Italy, defending champions, did not even make it to the Round of 16.

Wayne Rooney came next — he was the big star of the commercial. He hugged the queen. He had babies named for him. He beat Roger Federer in ping-pong. Um, not so much. Rooney did not score at this World Cup and England was destroyed by Germany (and a spectacularly bad referee decision) in the first knockout round.

Next, Ronaldinho, a two-time FIFA Player of the Year, did the dance that inspired a Kobe Bryant celebration. He didn’t even MAKE the Brazilian World Cup Team.

Actually there was also Franck Ribery, who was not much of a factor for a French team that stunk up the place on and off the field. Still, it's a good summary.

In a nod to sportswriters of old, I tracked down this column from 1979. It's probably my favorite column ever. I'm reproducing it here because I don't know if I'll be able to find it again.

---------------
The Los Angeles Times; Los Angeles, Calif.; Aug 18, 1998; JIM MURRAY;

(Copyright, The Times Mirror Company; Los Angeles Times 1998 all Rights reserved)
Original Article printed in 1979 - it was reprinted in 1998 when Murray died

OK, bang the drum slowly, professor. Muffle the cymbals and the laugh track. You might say that Old Blue Eye is back. But that's as funny as this is going to get.

I feel I owe my friends an explanation as to where I've been all these weeks. Believe me, I would rather have been in a press box.

I lost an old friend the other day. He was blue-eyed, impish, he cried a lot with me, saw a great many things with me. I don't know why he left me. Boredom, perhaps.

We read a lot of books together, we did a lot of crossword puzzles together, we saw films together. He had a pretty exciting life. He saw Babe Ruth hit a home run when we were both 12 years old. He saw Willie Mays steal second base, he saw Maury Wills steal his 104th base. He saw Rocky Marciano get up. I thought he led a pretty good life.

One night a long time ago he saw this pretty girl who laughed a lot, played the piano and he couldn't look away from her. Later he looked on as I married this pretty lady.

He saw her through 34 years. He loved to see her laugh, he loved to see her happy.

You see, the friend I lost was my eye. My good eye. The other eye, the right one, we've been carrying for years. We just let him tag along like Don Quixote's nag. It's been a long time since he could read the number on a halfback or tell whether a ball was fair or foul or even which fighter was down.

So, one blue eye missing and the other misses a lot.

So my best friend left me, at least temporarily, in a twilight world where it's always 8 o'clock on a summer night.

He stole away like a thief in the night and he took a lot with him. But not everything. He left a lot of memories. He couldn't take those with him. He just took the future with him and the present. He couldn't take the past.

I don't know why he had to go. I thought we were pals. I thought the things we did together we enjoyed doing together. Sure, we cried together. There were things to cry about.

But it was a long, good relationship, a happy one. It went all the way back to the days when we arranged all the marbles in a circle in the dirt in the lots in Connecticut. We played one-old-cat baseball. We saw curveballs together, trying to hit them or catch them. We looked through a catcher's mask together. We were partners in every sense of the word.

He recorded the happy moments, the miracle of children, the beauty of a Pacific sunset, snowcapped mountains, faces on Christmas morning. He allowed me to hit fly balls to young sons in uniforms two sizes too large, to see a pretty daughter march in halftime parades. He allowed me to see most of the major sports events of our time. I suppose I should be grateful that he didn't drift away when I was 12 or 15 or 29 but stuck around over 50 years until we had a vault of memories. Still, I'm only human. I'd like to see again, if possible, Rocky Marciano with his nose bleeding, behind on points and the other guy coming.

I guess I would like to see Reggie Jackson with the count 3-and-2 and the series on the line, guessing fastball. I guess I'd like to see Rod Carew with men on first and second and no place to put him, and the pitcher wishing he were standing in the rain someplace, reluctant to let go of the ball.

I'd like to see Stan Musial crouched around a curveball one more time. I'd like to see Don Drysdale trying to not laugh as a young hitter came up there with both feet in the bucket.

I'd like to see Sandy Koufax just once more facing Willie Mays with a no-hitter on the line. I'd like to see Maury Wills with a big lead against a pitcher with a good move. I'd like to see Roberto Clemente with the ball and a guy trying to go from first to third. I'd like to see Pete Rose sliding into home headfirst.

I'd like once more to see Henry Aaron standing there with that quiet bat, a study in deadliness. I'd like to see Bob Gibson scowling at a hitter as if he had some nerve just to pick up a bat. I'd like to see Elroy Hirsch going out for a long one from Bob Waterfield, Johnny Unitas in high-cuts picking apart a zone defense. I'd like to see Casey Stengel walking to the mound on his gnarled old legs to take a pitcher out, beckoning his gnarled old finger behind his back.

I'd like to see Sugar Ray Robinson or Muhammad Ali giving a recital, a ballet, not a fight. Also, to be sure, I'd like to see a sky full of stars, moonlight on the water, and yes, the tips of a royal flush peeking out as I fan out a poker hand, and yes, a straight two-foot putt.

Come to think of it, I'm lucky. I saw all of those things. I see them yet.

TMI

One of the advantages of working remotely is that I don't have a neighbor hacking up a lung in the adjacent cube office. Or at least not that I'd notice. Also: I get to kick out the jamz all day. (Seriously, all day. It's dance party USA up in this bitch 8 days a week. Unless it's pop music. Or both.)

Anyway, my co-workers like to keep me involved, as with this via IM:

co-worker: man your lung hacking neighbor is letting them rip
co-worker: and not out the attic
co-worker: he's super gassy this week
me: dude bro
me: why do you tell me that?
co-worker: because it's kinda funny no?
me: do you want to go on friend probation?
co-worker: haha
co-worker: it's all: "bbrbrbrbrbrb"
me: i don't need to know when that phlegm-factory is spilling out of his ass
co-worker: and then: "ahhhh"
me: FFS
co-worker: i don't either. but here he is. going at it


It's the little things.

Just got Illustrator CS5, which I used for the graphic. It's helping me realize my full artistic potential. knowwhatimean?

Roy Keane tells it like it is

Roy Keane was very, very good at football. He was a great talent that had the benefit of some world-class players on his team, but you can't argue his record. He's also a world-class jerk, but that's part and parcel of his win-at-all-costs nature. If he weren't such a hard charger he would never have been as successful as he was. In any case, he's managing now, and he had some very accurate things to say about the feeble performance from England in the World Cup.

Here's the summary: England are wildly overrated. And any team that starts Emile Heskey as a first-choice striker is probably shit.

With my thanks to the Guardian:

"They have to take a long hard look at themselves. They get away with murder," he said. "I wasn't really surprised by the Germany defeat. I keep saying it – good players don't necessarily make good teams. People keep talking about world class players but who are they?" he added.

"There's probably only Wayne Rooney, who had a brilliant season. But look at the goalkeepers. David James was relegated with Portsmouth and Robert Green just about stayed up with West Ham. Glen Johnson did okay at Liverpool but they had a poor enough season.

"John Terry? He had his issues and I don't think he had a great season. Chelsea may have won the Premiership and FA Cup double but that was more down to some world class attacking players.

"Matthew Upson didn't have a great season at West Ham and Ashley Cole, to be fair to the boy, has just come back from injury.

"James Milner had a good season but Gareth Barry was very average for Manchester City. Emile Heskey started the World Cup up front but he only scored three Premiership goals for Aston Villa."

Mix and Match

Big game tomorrow.
In unrelated news, here's two videos for your viewing/listening pleasure.

First, a curiously fascinating singalong that gives you an idea why the terraces of football matches are both exhilarating and a bit scary, especially if you're a girl.




And then, if you're tired of watching guys with bad teeth sing a cappella, you can watch dogs catch treats in super slow motion. Better than it sounds, I promise. If you're feeling adventurous use the singalong for audio while you watch the doggies.

Landon, I owe you an apology

(Open letter to Landon "Landycakes" Donovan)

Dear Landon,
I've been mercilessly hard on you in the past. You have been American Soccer's Great White Hope for many years now, and frankly you haven't done much to deserve it. You couldn't cut it when you tried to play in Germany (twice). You were a non-factor in the World Cup in 2002 and you were awful in 2006. Yeah you were one of the best players in MLS during that span but that's small potatoes. The MLS is a backwater league where former legends come to enjoy their dotage. You did have a nice run during the Confederations Cup last year but so what? We both know that it's how you perform on the big stage that matters.

So this time, when they put you on the cover of Sports Illustrated and made noise about your recent loan spell with Everton, I was demeaning. I was derogatory. I was insulting. And I was wrong.

You have been awesome. Your work rate is superb, your touch sublime, and your ability to come through in the clutch and finish under pressure has made me scream at the television like a crazy person.

That early second-half goal against Slovenia, where you attacked the keeper with the ball at your feet and roofed it? Man, that was world-class. So easy to sky that one over the bar, or hoof it off the keeper's chest.

But that was nothing compared to what you did today. You played great from start to finish. Your service was very good. Your effort was excellent. You were one of the best players on the pitch, you were instrumental in the final push and when it came down to it you were in the right place at the right time and finished with impeccable coolness. And then I went absolutely crazyface. I yelled. I ran in circles. My friends called me so we could yell and run in circles together while on the phone. My roommate had to watch it from his office so he put on his Team USA replica shorts OVER his dress slacks. Fucking awesome.

Thanks for that.

Please accept my sincere apology.
See you on Saturday.
-case-

HTML5: explained (with colors)

Sweet.

Is that pithy, or cliche? Or both?

I've been a big fan of fitness instructor Rob's teaching style since I first took his yoga class at my gym. The gym can be a bit much, but they pay the people that work there to be super nice and welcoming, which is good because it helps someone like me feel comfortable trying new things, like yoga class, or skinny jeans class (seriously), or whatever else they've got cooked up.

Anyway, one of the things Rob brings to his yoga practice is a specific thought or focus. Sometimes he revisits certain themes, and sometimes they're new. Yesterday's was: you only get old when you stop moving and stop learning. Of course you age - life is a terminal disease. But you only get OLD when you stop moving and learning. And though I've heard it before other places, I thought it was cool to hear it reinforced in a yoga class. And then I did a handstand and I was like !!$$! and then I fell over and I was like : (

Unrelated - this exchange w/ my co-worker:

ender: will solicit the ride there
case: yeah.
case: i would give you a lift if I were local.
case: i'm (not) there for you
ender: thanks buddy

What are you gonna wear?

Big menswear shows in Milan over the weekend. Here at GJAW we like to keep abreast of the latest trends in fashion. Like the interesting swimwear from Armani (pictured). Why would I wear boardshorts or man-trunks to the beach/pool when I can wear a singlet / unitard?

In related news, I took delivery of some superb seersucker pants. So awesome. Sort of but not quite appropriate for the office. I'm not saying I'm planning events so I have a reason to wear them, but I'm not not saying it.

It's the little things (part III)

Busy day yesterday. After I rinsed off my hangover with some laps/wall push-ups at the pool and watched some football (world cup style), I rediscovered the excellence of my acoustic guitar.

I hadn't made time for her for 6 months, which is criminal. So yesterday I got the itch and sat down for an extended visit. Tuned and strumming in 5 minutes, it was like I never left. Even the strings were still in good shape. My skills (such as they are): not so much.

What brought me back to the guitar? Well I got a kick out of this cover of Such Great Heights by Iron & Wine:


Unfortunately the fingerpick style (though slow) was beyond me after such a long layoff. Better to warm up with something a bit more accessible. Which brought me to this chords version:



That I can play. Not very well (yet), but we're getting there.

LAKERS LAKERS LAKERS LAKERS LAKERS!!!! amiright?

Friend Zach and I have been engaging in some light banter since the Lakers ugly victory over the Celtics last night. And by "light banter" I mean vicious cruelty, because what's the point of having friends if you can't rub it in?

Backstory: I loathe the Boston Celtics.
Also: Zach hates the Lakers in general and Pau Gasol in particular (no idea why - most people hate Kobe - which I understand).
Special bonus: Zach now lives in Boston, so he's extra close to recent events.

I texted him last night after the big win:

midnight eastern time: Pau Gasol wants you to gargle his balls with rosewater and sugarplums.
no response indicates I've struck a nerve, so 10 minutes later I said: rosewater
still nothing, so 10 minutes after that I said: sugarplums

I didn't hear from him so I thought I'd twist the dagger a little more, see if I could get his attention via email. See image for a summary.

His response was not appropriate for a family blog. It was the kind of thing you say to a really close friend or someone you despise. I think I'm both right now. Which is exactly what I was aiming at.

I'm enjoying this almost as much as the Lakers win. Almost.

Crafting the perfect pop song

I've been accused of having an unsophisticated taste in music. To which I say, yeah, well, so what?

If music sounds good to me I'll listen to it. Don't care if it's made for tweenage girls or thugs or whatever in between. I just want to hear a good hook. For example, how about some saccharine sweet pop courtesy The White Tie Affair? If you're wondering why you didn't get the original video, it's because it sucks. This pink lameness with the lyrics is far superior in that if you don't shrink it and get your listen on it'll annoy the shit out of you. Just listen to the harmonies. Sure it's cheesy, but so is a quesadilla and those things are gooooooood. I dare you not to like it. (Skot excluded - he's a music snob.)

Another reason why the U.S. won't win the World Cup anytime soon (part n+1)

Fascinating article about the Ajax youth academy.
Bonus video (it ain't much, but it's moving pictures).
Example:

Over time, though, the academy hardens them mentally as well as physically. I asked Dylan how he felt about his coach’s being fired. He shrugged. “The football world is a hard world,” he replied. “He has made the decision to send boys away. Now he knows how it feels.” [Ed. daaaaaamn!]

Minor quibble - this generalization is absurd:
In America, with its wide-open spaces and wide-open possibilities, we celebrate the “self-made athlete,” honor effort and luck and let children seek their own course for as long as they can — even when that means living with dreams that are unattainable and always were.

Parents have been purpose-building their kids to be athletes for at least 30 years. How is that 'self-made'? Now more than ever parents enable (encourage?) their kids to play one sport year round. How is this "wide-open possibilities"? The kids are coming out of programs almost as immersive as those at Ajax, but they're playing baseball, football, basketball and hockey.

Easy on the throttle

Rode to work this morning, so you get a motorcycle video with your breakfast.

This is an innocuous-looking video, right up until the part where he gets aggressive with the throttle and high-sides. Rider position is poor, so the bike is leaned over a lot more than it needs to be. The rider should be hanging further off the bike, enabling the bike to stand up straighter and moving the lateral push on the tire contact patch closer to the middle, instead of the edge. I don't know if that would have made much difference here. Jerky throttle inputs have a way of spraying bike parts.

Not sure that I would wear my timberlands for a canyon ride. Mostly because I don't own a pair, but also because I'm not sure they would provide very good feel on the bike.

Pay attention to his right wrist in the slow-motion part; see where he cranks the throttle open? It doesn't look like much, but that's what causes the accident. Before that the bike is holding the (poorly chosen) line. Rider is fine. Bike needs some work.

Taking this web thing worldwide

I track my blog hits with Google Analytics. It's free, it's easy, and sometimes it tells me funny things about traffic sources. For example, I routinely get a couple random hits a month on the search "chris berman jerk", which is awesome. It's probably my best traffic generator. I get a spike every year for the "cougar hunter costume" post.

You can view the traffic on a map, and it's mostly of interest because almost all my multiple hit-traffic comes from places around the US, and correlates directly to my friends that live in those cities. Chicago? That's Brian. New York City? That's Sonia. You get the idea.

So imagine my surprise when I got a sudden spike in traffic. I checked and it's coming from, umm, Varanasi - a city about which I know very little, all of it gleaned from one book I liked in parts but didn't really understand. It's probably Google opening an office there and checking that I'm not posting bad news or whatever. Or maybe I have a few dedicated readers out there in northeastern India. Either way, glad to see you! :)

Serious team has less serious face

Got some funny feedback about the seriousness of previous team photo. I originally wanted to use the photo pictured here but decided it was too blurry. I wish it weren't, because it's a better picture of almost everybody (including me- third row from front, second from right, kneeling, next to the standing guy with no hair doing his Mr. Clean impression).

I am an international financier - part the VI

My latest Kiva loan has been fully repaid:

Consuelo Sanchez Ruiz in Peru (Activity: Shoe Sales)
You Loaned: $125.00
Newly Repaid: $20.83
Total Repaid So Far: $125.00 (100.00% of your loan)
Repayment Status: Paid back

Here's the update from her loan handler:
La señora CONSUELO SANCHEZ RUIZ, tiene 55 años, vive en el distrito de Trujillo, provincia de Trujillo, departamento La Libertad – Perú. Y Pertenece al Banco Comunal MUJERES VALEROSAS. La empresaria presenta estudios hasta 6to de Primaria ya que por falta de recursos económicos ella empezó a trabajar desde pequeña. La socia es casada y tiene 6 hijos de los cuales 2 dependen económicamente de ella. CONSUELO se dedica a la fabricación y venta de calzado solo para niñas.

Ella confecciona el calzado con el apoyo de su esposo y 2 de sus hijos posteriormente los venden en las tiendas al por mayor o al por menor de forma ambulatoria.

Refiere que el pertenecer a Manuela Ramos le ayudado a ser mas solidó a su negocio ya que con el capital que se le facilita mas sus ganancias ella puedo invertir cada vez mas y así aumentar sus ventas y sus ganancias. También le ayudado a valorarse como mujer, a resolver problemas familiares cotidianos y administrar mejor el dinero de su negocio.

And here it is after it's been run through Google translator, because my espanol is a bit rusty, knowhatimean?

Ms. CONSUELO RUIZ SANCHEZ, 55, lives in the district Trujillo, province of Trujillo, La Libertad - Peru. Y Communal Bank Courageous Women. The entrepreneur Primary finished 6th since lack of financial resources she began working as a child. She is married and has 6 children of which two are economically dependent on it. Consuelo engaged in the manufacture and sale of shoes just for girls.

She draws up the shoe with the support of her husband and two of his children subsequently sold in stores at the wholesale or retail an outpatient basis.

Refer to the membership of Manuela Ramos helped him to be more solid business because with the capital provided to you more profits I can invest it more and more and increase their sales and profits. It is also valued as a woman helped to resolve everyday family problems and better manage their money business.

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A little something gets lost in translation, but overall I think the loan worked out. So that's good.

So far this same $125 has improved the quality of life for people in Tajikistan, Mexico, Benin, and Peru. Awesome.

Not sure where to re-allocate. If you want to browse Kiva and send me a suggestion then go for it. I'll decide by the end of the week.

Effectively the same. But slightly different.

Got my blue belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu over the weekend. I didn't pass a specific test or anything - that's not how my school works. Some schools do test, but generally the promotion system is a combination of time, effort, and ability.

If you're particularly adept and master the skills quickly then you might get promoted more quickly. Depends on your school/instructor. That definitely wasn't a problem for me - I have exceptionally talented guys in my school and I'm nowhere near as good as they are. But each case is a different case (pun intended), so you evaluate each student on their own merits. The soonest you will get your blue belt is, I think, 8 months. The latest? About a year and a half, depending on how often you are able to come to class and how quickly you pick up the art.

If you're curious you can see some general details here.

When I first started the blue belts seemed light-years away. It was an impossible goal, but here we are. I confess that I'm pleased and proud to have reached this stage of the process.

9,000,000(ish) views, but new to me

So this has been around for a while but it's the first I've seen of it. Which is a shame, because it's hilarious. Contains strong language, so if you watch it at work, close your door or put on the headphones. Or both.

World cup is on - if you're reading this then you can watch it

The world cup started today. Sorry, I mean World Cup. It's the biggest sporting event in the world, and although "football is full of shit and tossers" (per an English acquaintance of mine), it's still compelling viewing.

Bonus this year is that all the matches are streamed live on the intarnetweb, so if you have an internet connection you can watch the games live. Sweet deal. Or you can watch replays, if you don't want to get up at 4 AM PDT for the early games. It's on ESPN3, which means we're 3/8ths of the way to The Ocho.

Unrelated: That trophy is ugly.

Big USA v. England game tomorrow. I predicted that team USA would get their ass kicked 3-0. It's not that England is that good, it's that I think the USA team is that bad. Seriously. People might point to the fact that South Africa got a result against Mexico today as encouraging, but no one on the US squad can score a goal like Tshabalala (sp?) did. That was siiiiiiiiiick. And set pieces? pfffffft. I would really like to be wrong though. That would make me happy.

Pandora delivers the goods (again)

I've blogged this jam before, but not this specific mix.

From the youtube description:
"Big Dance Track Back In 2004 For Eric Prydz. 'Call On Me' Was Originally An 80's Smash Hit For Steve Winwood Called 'Valerie'. When Winwood Heard The Remix He Thought It Was So Good He Not Only Gave His Permission To Use The Samples, He Even Re-Recorded His Vocals Especially For The Track."

From my im conversation:
[14:40] hugecrony: makes me feel like partying.
[14:40] ender9284: yes
[14:41] ender9284: fun track
[14:42] hugecrony: repeat offender.
[14:42] hugecrony: started over from the top.

Happiness - it's not what you think

Been saving this one since last week.

Video explains that happy is not what people expect. Enjoy.

Hat tip to Zach. Even though he's a boob.

Special bonus: World Cup starts tomorrow. That makes me happy. I'll be up early to watch the game. Got to. It's the world cup.

Sound at work

Here's an video from Lexus doing an acoustics demo. The last time I saw this done was when I was a college freshman and my Physics 3 teacher blew up a beaker. He used a frequency generator that some EE student had made from parts as a project and a speaker from the early 80s (which was also just lying around). The LF-A costs a quarter of a million dollars, but the end result is the same. Which is kind of fun.

The cool thing is the volume doesn't have to be loud if you can find and maintain the resonant frequency. Also cool: the amount of flex in the glass before it gives up.

That must have hurt

Following on the news that arguably the best MotoGP rider of all time shattered his leg over the weekend in a motorcycle crash, here's an example of what can happen at your local track day.

Yikes.

BP oil spill followup

This from contributor Skot (sic).

http://www.ifitwasmyhome.com/

You can type in your zip code and see how the oil spill would fit in your neighborhood. Just for comparison's sake.

It's full reach would stretch from the Channel Islands to the Mojave Preserve, and from LA to San Diego. Most of the OC would be covered in oil.

Just for kicks I did Manhattan, too.

How's that working out for you?

Aside from the Israelis epic cock up earlier this week the big news has got to be the BP oil spill. It's well past being the worst oil spill in US waters and fairly on its way to being one of the worst oil disasters of all time. We won't know for years how all that shakes out, but it's a bad deal any way you slice it.

BP is supposedly finding in silver lining in the fact that it's hard to reach because if people could actually SEE how much oil was getting dumped into the ocean they would have a freakout.

For your pleasure, a flickr photo set of updated bp logos. My favorite is shown here.

The bp failwhale is also quite strong.

Hot sauce and dick jokes? It gets no better

Special sauce link from Scott, who is well connected to this intertube thing.

Bonus videogame analysis from me, via Kotaku. Some game something or other lets you design your own graphics for the end zone. I know, it sounds boring to me too, but it is kind of fun that their producer guy minced no words about what people would put there:

"Let's face it, the first two days of the game being out, all we're going to see is a bunch of cocks, like, spread across the end zone," Rob Donald, the game's associate producer, told Kotaku. "Look at Spore when that came out. That was quite a sophisticated game, and this is a football game. So, people, yeah, they're gonna create dicks. Massive, giant phalluses that you're running into and scoring on."

He just painted me a picture with words. Nicely done.