BoozeTown Is Real. Seriously.

“Doctor, I have a question.  Is it technically possible to, well, live…inside a bottle of liquor?  Because if there’s a way, let me know, and I’ll just do that instead.”

~Mel Johnson

Every so often, we at AFFotD imagine that you, our readers, ask aloud  something along the lines of, “Hey, whichever AFFotD writer you’ve got on staff today, what is the craziest and most American idea you have ever heard of?  Is it a bear-murder fueled cannon that shoots cheeseburgers?  Or, like, a sex doll made out of ham?  Or do you guys sometimes dream about making a hat that turns you into Robocop?  Holy shit, I want all of those things I just mentioned right now.”

Well, to you, we’d say, first of all, back the fuck off, those are our ideas and our legal department is like, 90% certain that the copyright is going through any day now, so if we even hear a WHISPER about someone putting RoboCap out on the market, we will sue your ass.  And secondly, uh, what a ridiculous question.  Do you even understand how complicated it would be to make a hat that turned you into Robocop?  Or how much time our creative department would take to come up with such an amazingly appropriate name for that as RoboCap?  Yeah, that shit doesn’t just happen, so no, we never think about those awesomely crazy American ideas.

We do, however, think about BoozeTown.

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Chuck Yeager is Faster Than Sound

“Listen, if this plane probably won’t explode in the air, why the hell do you want me to fly it?” 

~Chuck Yeager

America is a land of advancement through the idiotic risks of others.  If someone hadn’t ignored “conventional wisdom” and eaten tomatoes when they thought it was poisonous, where would we get our pizza sauce from?  If Neil Armstrong had been worried about the very real threat of Carnivorous Moon People, we wouldn’t have the most famous example of someone fucking up a prepared speech in the history of the world (seriously, “one small step for A man,” get it right.)  If Sam Adams hadn’t gotten drunk and decided to make a bunch of people throw tea in a harbor, we wouldn’t know what to call his beer.  Dumb decisions always work out for you if you’re an American, but someone has to have the parachute-sized sack to go out and make those dumb decisions.  One of those men is renowned testicular giants was Chuck Yeager, test pilot.

That smile means he just shot down a German fighter

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America Fun Fact of the Day 3/20- Hahahahahaha Oh We’re So Sorry

“Oh my god, those bastards!  They suck!”

~Everyone reading today’s fun fact

As the enterprising members of the America Fun Fact of the Day staff spend the next few weeks working on additional American projects, like a ray  gun that turns celery into donuts, or a gender-neutral sex machine that plays James Brown’s “Sex Machine” during copulation, you may have noticed a drop off in production lately.  And it’s understandable that you are upset, you all pay a very high price to be the first daily receivers of the America Fun Fact of the Day.  We have all your credit cards on file, as you no doubt have noticed the surprisingly expensive charges to “Xing Xia’s Massage” that have been popping up on your credit card bills.  How does one massage cost 500 bucks?  It’s all part of the creative process, you wouldn’t understand.

So, as a huge “fuck you” to you, the loyal readers…today’s Fun Fact will be a fucking clip show.  That’s right, just a clipboard of the greatest America Fun Fact of the Day moments of the past few months.

You see, clip shows are the most American form of entertainment.  It’s backhanded, which is the best way Americans like to deal with things (can I get a “How?” from my Indian brothers and sisters out there?  Ha, see what I did there?), and it’s incredible lazy, which is, all together now, American.  As with any clip show, we’ll add some thematic additions to each bit, but really, the writers just crapped this out in like 10 minutes, because what the hell.

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Saturday Image of the Week: How to Pretend to Work, Endorsed by March Madness

“Are you shitting me!?  How does Morehead beat Louisville?  I had them going to the Elite 8!”

~Someone who does not give a shit about NCAA Basketball 50 weeks out of the year

It’s that time of the year again, the only time of the year when people give a shit about College sports that don’t end with “ootball.”  People fill out brackets, one of the women in your office who always brag about how much they hate sports will probably end up winning the office pool, and say, “I just guessed all of them!” and ESPN is going to spend way too much time trying to tell us why we should give a shit who Obama or Lebron James thinks will win it all.

March Madness, or “Early Spring Cranial Poxy” as it was called when the first 8 team NCAA Men’s Division I Basketball Championship Tournament began in 1939, when Oregon beat Ohio State 46-33, and every player was pastey white, lanky, and probably chain smoked on the sidelines.  The first Early Spring Cranial Poxy was hosted by Northwestern University, which is as hilarious as it is cruel for one of the only teams in the NCAA to have never made the tournament.  In 1951, the field expanded to 16 teams for one season, and varied from 22 to 25 teams until 1975, when the field was made of 32.  The term “March Madness” originated in the 1980s, around the time that the NCAA tournament expanded to the perfect brackets of 64 teams, and has become a popular way to describe this tournament, where workers slacking off to watch the games and gamble in pools literally cost the U.S. Economy billions of dollars each year.

That number is sure to go up with the advent of live streaming games from espn, because nothing is more American than combining technological innovation with wasting time on the clock.

The NCAA Tournament literally raises billions of dollars of revenue, though all of the players hilarious have to play the games for free (except for Ohio State, who get a pretty healthy salary, but don’t tell anyone that we told you that).  And while there’s a rich history of buzzer beaters, bracket busters, heartaches and triumph, the true American pasttime behind the NCAA tournament is simple.

It’s the American traditioni where we try to trick our employers into thinking we’re working for four days a year.

Yes.  That’s a boss button.  As in, a programmer spent a long time to make a functioning button on the corner of the screen for you to click if your boss shows up (we guess most people aren’t familiar with how “Alt/Tab” works).  What happens when you click on that sucker?

That’s right.  A fake outlook express email window, with a lengthy message full of hints how to successfully avoid working during March Madness.  Just to put a healthy dose of fear in your lives (apart from the ever present threat of fucking starquakes), think about this.  Statistics tell us that at least one air traffic controller was on this page during work.  Here is the full transcript of Thursday’s Boss Button, which shows a corporation telling you how to avoid doing work at your particular corporation.

From:  The CMO

To:  Me

CC:

Subject: The Big Test

The first four were exciting for a number of reasons, a lot happened:

1. We learned it’s never too early to have some last second drama

2. The underdogs are gonna be tough, and

3. I almost dropped my phone in 2 urinals, 1 sink, and a cup of coffee.

So far so good…

Hopefully you used the First Four to develop a system for watching the games with your boss (or spouse) on the prowl, because Thursday has 16 games on tap from noon till after dark.  You will be tested!

With that in mind, let me take this time to warn you against the biggest rookie mistake of them all; calling in sick.  I have a feeling a lot of people are going to have “the flu” tomorrow and nobody is gonna be buyin’ it, specifically your boss.  Calling in sick just puts undo pressure on your life.  Your boss is looking to catch you in a lie, and if your spouse sees you sitting around the house, perfectly healthy, you’re getting chores.

The key to March Madness success is actually giving the allusion that you’re so busy you don’t have time for hoops.  So here’s what you do…

1. Show up early and send an email to your boss about ANYTHING.  Your boss isn’t going to be looking to catch you slacking off when you’re showing up to knock out some extra work at 7am.

2. When ANYONE in your office talks March Madness, feign ignorance.  Practice this phrase now:  “What game?  I was knee-deep in (insert task or project here).”

3. Work through lunch.  If your boss swings by they will be super impressed at your effort.  Plus, where else would you rather be?  You’ve got every game right here!

4. And of course use this Boss Button religiously.  We built it for a reason.

Remember, its[sic] not slacking off if you don’t get caught!

-CMO, (Chief Madness Officer)

There is so much America programmed in here, we don’t know where to start.  Making money you don’t earn is an American pastime.  We invented it, and we’re the best at it.  Tell that hard working German immigrant working in the nearby cubicle about this feature, and they’d be shocked that people would try to watch basketball games all day during work.  Tell an American about it?  They respond, “holy shit, send me the link.”

So this March Madness, just keep in mind…every hour you spend not working, and instead watching low-quality-high-drama basketball games?  That is an hour you are giving directly to America.

Baseball Caps: Durable Tool of Athletes and Douchebags

“Baseball caps MUST BE WORN BACKWARDS.”

~You, 1992, after seeing “3 Ninjas”

“Why is every douchebag in this bar wearing a backwards baseball cap?”

~You, last Saturday

America is all about putting shit on the tops of their head.  While the notions of hats date back to the 15th century, when French noblemen began putting cloth and feathers in a piece shaped to fit the top of their skulls in their generations old tradition of, “How ridiculous can we make ourselves look in oil paintings,” hats are an essential clothing item for most everyone in the world, be it practical like a ski-cap, or offensive to a lot of people to hear it described as a “hat” like those water jugs African villagers carry on their heads.

“Let’s call it ‘Tribal Chic’ and sell it to impressionable socialites!”

But of all the hats, can you think of one that is truly American?  Sure, we have hats such as the Top Hat, the Sombrero, the….beret.  But what is the most American hat?  The one hat out there that grabs you by the ears and screams, “LOOK AT ME!  I AM AMERICA!”

The Coonskin cap?  Oh…fuck, yeah that’s actually a really good one.  Like really good.  Goddamn it, no that’s not the one we’re writing about today, but we sort of wish we were.  We had forgotten about all the badass traits associated with the Coonskin cap.  Goddamn it.  That meets both the “fuck nature” quotient we try to cram into every AFFotD, plus it would let us go on just a crazy wild tangent about Davy “Kills With a Smile” Crockett.  Davy fucking Crockett! We could have told you how Davy Crockett’s Coonskin cap alone could have sex with more women than a 2008 Tiger Woods at a Club Promoter’s Convention.  We could have talked about how Coonskin cap gave Davy Crockett the power to use fucking alligators as jet skis.

Do you think this just fucking happens!?

Shit.  Anyway, no, we were not thinking about the Coonskin cap.  Dammit.  But, no, dig deep, really try to figure out what, as a hat, do you define as being…American?

OH SON OF A BITCH!  Goddamn it to hell!  FineYes.  A Cowboy hat is a fucking awesome America hat too.  Yes, it is a hat that basically reeks of sex-at-a-19th-century-brothel.  Yes, it is the hat best designed to cover a man’s junk.  Yes, it is a hat so associated with gunfights that even new cowboy hats reek of gunpowder and fear.  Yes, cowboy hats are so damn manly that if you have sex while wearing one, it’s technically considered a Devil’s Three-Way, no matter who’s wearing it.  Fine.  Fine.  Goddamn it.

Okay, one more time, what is the most American hat you can think of?

JUST FUCKING STOP OKAY!?  We’re talking about fucking baseball caps, alright?  THOSE are pretty damn American too, you assholes.  BASEBALL CAPS.  And besides, that last one is cheating because you can totally find a baseball cap that looks like an American flag.  So yeah, eat it.  You guys suck.

Anyway, before we fire our research guru who managed to totally ignore the above examples when we asked him, “What’s the most American hat you can think of?” let’s at least discuss the actually-pretty-fucking-American background of the baseball cap, or as it used to be known, the “Brooklyn Style” cap, which was invented here in America in 1860.  And for you Coonskin cap and Cowboy hat lobbyists, technically Coonskin caps were first created by Native Americans, and the style for a Cowboy hat first was invented by Mongolians.  So there.

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The Washington Monument is Very Serious and Doesn’t Look Like Anything Else. At All.

“I’m not saying I am clearly a hit with the ladies, but…*points*”

~George Washington

George Washington was part warlock, part astronaut, and 100% American badass.  His laser vision often destroyed waves upon waves of British soldiers, and his laser foresight vision helped blast a searing hole of plasma into the future to ensure that America could grow and become the country we know and love today.  So it comes as little surprise that in 1832, after much hemming and hawing among baffling political parties who were “Anti-Washington,” our fine nation decided to commemorate the memory of one of our greatest founding fathers with a National monument in the form of the world’s largest penis obelisk penis.

This is the story of that giant erect phallus.

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Turtles in a Half Shell, Ninja Turtles

“Raphael is your FAVORITE Ninja Turtle?  Are you shitting me?”

~U.S. Astronaut John Glenn

Ask any member of Generation X or Generation Y one question, and you’re guaranteed to see a lively debate.  “Who is your favorite Ninja Turtle?  Who is your least favorite?”  There’s brave Leonardo, wielding Katana swords and serving as the leader of the group.  There’s Michelangelo, the comic relief with his nun-chucks.  There’s Donatello, the smart one, wielding his bō staff, and Raphael, the team’s bad boy that no one gives a shit about because a pair of sai is a bullshit weapon and he knows it.

Yawn.

But The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are the most glorious thing to come from a night of smoking pot in the 1980’s this side of most white-person-bar music.  They are a force for good in a world of evil, and they remind us that turtles can be American too.  And if you doubt the cultural significance of the Ninja Turtles, next time you find yourself in a crowded public place, say loudly, “Donatello was the best Ninja Turtle, by far.”  You’ll notice everyone under the age of 40 just turned their head towards you, half of them with a look of agreement on their face, and half of them with a look on their face that screams, “Are you fucking crazy?”  Actually someone might actually scream that as well.  Such is the mystery of the glorious American invention, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

TMNJ sounds like the combination of two stoners saying random words, putting them together, and then deciding to make a goddamn comic book about it.  If you think about it logically, none of those words go together.  Don’t believe us?  Read it in reverse order, and do a word association of the first thing that comes to your head when you read each word.

TURTLE

–          Reptile

–          Shell

–          The chubby dude in Entourage

NINJA

–          Wait, really?  Ninja?  How does that have anything to do with turtles?

–          No, don’t just skip me over, I’m really honestly wondering how you went from “turtle” to “ninja.”  It makes no sense!  Turtles are slow for fuck’s sake!

–          Fine, fine, uh, samurai.  I don’t know.  Japan.

MUTANT

–          What?  What’s going on here?  Are you stoned?  Are you stoned right now?

–          Oh, you’re stoned.  But still, even by stoned logic, thinking about mutant ninjas is…not normal, man.

–          No, I’m not going to even give you the satisfaction of doing a word association for Mutants. I don’t know where you’re going with this but I don’t like it one bit.

–          I’m serious, I’m not going to do it.

–          I don’t care how long you pester me, I’m done with this game, it’s going to weird and twisted places.

–          Stop it

–          You’re just embarrassing yourself

–          Not gonna do it

–          OKAY FINE JESUS CHRIST!  Uh, X-men.  Comic books.  Radiation.

TEENAGER

–          Oh fuck my life.

How the turtles came to be, and how they affected a whole generation, is a true tale of American inspiration, luck, talent, and blind devotion to massive commercial merchandising.  In 1983, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird where two artists, and close friends.  Eastman drew comics in his spare time while working as a short order cook, and Laird was making a living doing editorial illustrations and advertising art.  One night, the two were hanging out, watching TV, and sketching.  They were also probably taking a hit out of a bong made out of discarded LSD squares, because Eastman drew a picture of a turtle with nunchukus attached to its arm, and said (probably while laughing his ass off), “Ninja Turtle.  Laird then said, “Dude…Teenage MUTANT Ninja Turtle.”  Once the weed wore off, they began drawing a small black and white comic, giving the turtles names of Renaissance artists and sculptors, and giving it a surprisingly dark origin story.  Like, just cold blooded killers, and a distinct lack of pizza references or surfer talk.

After writing the comic, they published 3000 of them for $1200, due to a combination of loans from Eastman’s uncle and a $500 tax refund Eastman had received.  That’s right, the American Government helped subsidize the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  This is the best use of government money since that time the Government actually tried to develop real Mutant Ninja Turtles, eventually scrapping the project when it created Vin Diesel.

Ha, the internet is awesome.

They had enough money to put out one ad in a Comic Book Magazine, which got the attention of distributers, who got the TMNT to a wider audience.  But the Turtles really broke through when they grabbed the attention of licensing agent Mark Freedman, who saw the comics and thought, “Kids would buy the shit out of a ninja turtle action figure.”  In 1986, Dark Horse Miniatures made a set of small lead figurines, because the only thing more American than blindly making figurines out of weird mutated reptiles is to make them out of a material that will poison you.  They eventually chose to take the turtles to a small (at the time) toy maker called Playtime Toys, deciding to make the turtles just a little less poisonous to children.  They put together a creative team to create a miniseries of the Ninja Turtles, coining such badass phrases as, “Heroes in a half shell,” and, of course, “Turtle power!”

The Miniseries eventually became popular, and the 1987 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle TV Series brought forth the much more family friendly characters to a large audience, and created a pop culture phenomenon.

To show how American TMNT are, you need to look no further than one of the two founders, Kevin Eastman, and let’s see what he’s been able to do because of the Ninja Turtles (and also the millions of dollars he has raked in).

Here’s what Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird looked like in the 1980’s.  Eastman is the one on the right.

Yeah, the guy who looks like Weird Al’s unemployed younger brother?  That guy?  This is his ex-wife.

AROOOOOOOOOGA!

Dayumnnnnn boyyyyyyy.  That’s right, because of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, a stoner short order chef was able to marry a woman who’s damn Wikipedia profile picture is borderline NSFW.  Seriously, that’s her Wikipedia page, we didn’t know that women’s shirts came in small, medium, large, and boob sizes.  Is that a tank top, a swim suit, or body paint?  Either way, it’s hard not to stare.  Now look at those, erm, her again, and look at Mr. “It’s the 80’s, it’d be a crime NOT to have a mustache” up there.  Yeah.  Pretty jarring.

That’s Julie Strain and she is known as “The Queen of the B-Film.”  She also is well known for appearing on the show “Sex Court” on the Playboy Chanel.  This is an upper echelon of Americanness right here.  Eastman married a woman who people will go out of their way to do a google image search to find naked pictures of her.  The only thing more American is if you marry someone people will go out of their way to search for naked pictures of, but they can’t find anything.  THAT is the power of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

That and Rule 34

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles have spawned an empire, a series of films ranging in quality from “It was great when I was 7” to “What the hell is going on?”  To this date, TMNT remain the only superhero team to successfully defeat a foe with a keytar at full volume.  There were three animated series, one live action series (with the comically bad addition of a female Turtle named “Venus de Milo” because, at this point, who gives a shit about being subtle), as well as three live action films and an animated full length film.  There are over twenty TMNT video games, including the classic, “Turtles IV:  Turtles in Time,” widely considered to be the best TMNT game ever made, which featured such unforgettable lines as, “Bury my shell at wounded knee.”  That’s right, this is a game that combines the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, time travel, and references General Custer’s Last Stand!


Holy shit, awesome, right!?

So whenever you see a jar of plutonium, an empty pizza box, and four box turtles, just put them in a jar and shake them up, just to see what happens.  Worst case scenario, you have some dead turtles, to which we say, “Meh.”  But, but, best case scenario?  Fucking.  THIS.

How American Are You Quiz: Part Two

“Get the hell out of here, and take your loveable slacker persona with you, motherfucker!”

~Steven Spielberg, AFFotD’s Hiring Director

For the first time in the history of the America Fun Fact of the Day, we’ve encountered something…well, something terrible.  It is with great shame that we must admit that last week, we accidentally hired a staff member who was not American.  This has never happened before, we swear to God, it was an honest mistake.  We thought that Seth Rogen would fit the much needed “Chubby funny man/loveable slacker” position.  We were excited to have him, we all thought Superbad was a great movie, and not only because we supported the central theme of “underage Americans buying booze to get laid at a party.”  We thought it had a lot of heart.  Like when Michael Cera’s character dropped that bottle of liquor on the bus, and it shattered all over the place, we really felt for the kid.  And all that booze that he could have been drinking.  The only unrealistic part of that scene was that no one immediately dropped to the floor in a desperate part to lick the remains, but we’ll let that one go.

So, as he was turning in his pay forms, and we were asking him about the movie (we basically kept saying, “Hey, hey, Seth…remember McLovin’?” and he’d say, “Yeah,” and we’d say, “Haha, awesome!”) he said, “Well, I got these forms here, I mean, I left the social security part blank, I hope that’s okay.”  We told him it was, a lot of us like being paid under the table in cash, or bootleg DVDs, so that’s not an unusual request.  But then, then, he said, “Well, I’m excited to be working with you, I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow, eh?”

The offices went silent.  Some of us dropped our whisky glasses.  One of the interns started crying, but that might have been because we stuck him on “mail bomb checking duty,” so that wasn’t too strange.  At that point, Steven Spielberg, who works in our HR Department, actually read the information listed in Rogen’s hiring forms.  This was the first time anyone at AFFotD has bothered to read the damn things, or even really read in general.  Spielberg flat out admits that he picks movies to direct based on if it’s written in bold font or not, and would be the first to admit that he’s gotten pretty lucky with that.  But sure enough, on Seth Rogen’s form, under birthplace…

It listed Vancouver.  Canada.

That’s right, loyal readers.  America Fun Fact of the Day, where literally nearly double digits amount of people rely on their American knowledge, had employed a Canadian for nearly ten minutes.  We’ve tried to rectify this, we fired Judd Apatow for recommending the hire (and also, really, his work’s sort of been underwhelming post-2007), and our snipers took a couple of pot shots at him as he fled the building.  Though, he was hilarious when he was scrambling and darting around during that whole “us shooting at him” thing.  Say what you will about his country of birth, that motherfucking Canadian is funny.

As we looked back, trying to see where we went wrong, we realized that he had scored a 25 on his “How American Are You?” Quiz.  That’s solidly American, a healthy clip above the “questionable” cut off of 21 points.  That just won’t do, if our America Quiz fails us, how can we keep the Seth Rogens and Jim Carreys out (Oh shit, Jim Carrey’s Canadian too?  Goddamn it!)?  If our America Quiz fails us, how can we convince ourselves to turn down the applications of Pamela Anderson or Natasha Henstridge (GODDAMN YOU CANADA!)?

And so it is out of necessity that we present part two of the “How American Are You?” quiz which we call “How American Are You?  No, Really” quiz.  The scoring is simple.  First, take your result from the first test (which is no doubt seared into your brains), and add the following points for each answer.  If you answer A, you receive zero points, B is one point, C is six points, D is eight points, and E is worth ten points.  The more American answers are worth more points than in the previous test, to truly separate the Larry Davids from the Dan Aykroyds. Continue reading

A Road Trip of Roadside Attractions Through America’s Midwest: Part 2

“NOW are we there yet?  NOW are we there yet?”

~GODDAMN IT KIDS THIS IS WHY YOUR MOTHER LEFT

AFFotD took you on a magical journey through America’s Heartland in the first leg of our Road Trip through Roadside Attractions.  We saw a whole slew of things that America decided to make giant for little or no discernable reason, and after checking in on our Chicago offices for a chance to make fun of Vince Vaughn for doing that shit film, The Dilemma, we decided we should continue to see what this fine nation has lying ahead of us.  But the last thing we wanted was to be driving sober, and cheese curds sounded pretty fucking delicious, so we headed north to the home state of the Super Bowl Exellvee champions, Wisconsin.

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Gary Mays, One Armed American Hero

“Arms are for pussies.”

~Gary Mays

A lot can be established about how great of an American you are by the nickname you’re able to earn.  Andrew Jackson was called “Old Hickory” because he beat the shit out of people with a hickory cane.  Hawkeye on M*A*S*H got his nickname due to a book that, though we’ve not read because, come on, we assume has to be about killing Indians since it’s called “The Last of the Mohicans.”  Lou Gehrig was called “The Iron Horse” because that’s just fucking awesome.

We here at AFFotD try, with limited success, to fashion appropriately badass American nicknames.  One of our staff writers just goes by “Hood” because he wears a hood over his head every day, which is sort of annoying, but the name stuck at least.  One of our accountants tried to get people to call him Fucksaw, but that never caught on.  Kiefer Sutherland only goes by the nickname “Jack fucking Bauer” and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

And when it comes to nicknames, and Americans, few top that of Gary “Bandit” Mays, a man who managed to get the awesome nickname normally only reserved for Burt Reynolds without having ever played professional sports.  Of course, this two sport athlete, who went toe-to-toe with Elgin Baylor, was a top prep star catcher who was a finalist for finalist for Washington D.C.’s best baseball prep star of the year, was unable to find luck in the big leagues, due to the prejudices of the world in the 1950’s.  As a black man, he was subjugated and unable to show his potential to the world.

He also had only one fucking arm, but trust us when we say that racial prejudice was the only thing that held him back.

Stub!

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