Hey, You Guys Hear About That Charlie Sheen Guy? We Know, Crazy, Right?

“Damn, this guy is GOOD…”

~Mel Gibson

AFFotD tries its best to stay topical.  We addressed the world to the dangers of blizzards just as the Midwest and the East Coast were being buried in ten foot snow drifts, while at the same time introducing the newest trendy bar beverage (Hot Bo-Co) that, we swear, is like two weeks from taking off.  We re-introduced the world to Teddy Roosevelt because he’s always relevant.  We talked about chewing gum, which is good for after you drink to the point of puking.  But today, AFFotD is going to try to go really recent, and rehash the conversations you had with all your coworkers yesterday.  That’s right, we’re going to celebrate the unique brand of American insanity that can only be seen in certain American celebrities.  And not just any celebrity, today AFFotD celebrates and documents the deconstruction of a man so thoroughly nuts he may go down as the craziest man in the history of Hollywood.  And we couldn’t be any prouder of him.  Take a bow, Charlie Sheen.

You’ve come a long way, kid

 There’s no need to chronicle the life and career of Charlie “Oh yeah, he did a couple good comedies in the 1990’s and then he started doing that shitty show” Sheen.  In fact, after his peak (Major League II/Hotshots) Sheen’s been seeing his America stock oscillate, but fall steadily.  He married the naked chick from Wild Things, but wasn’t able to hold onto her, and he diluted all American respect we can afford the man’s career by doing eight years of truly awful slop for Two and a Half Men, somehow becoming the highest paid actor on television, something so offensive to us that Kiefer Sutherland almost quit the AFFotD staff out of protest.  Because seriously, fuck that show.

And yet the very same people who are watching this are insisting that waterboarding is torture.

 While we cannot say that Charlie Sheen and his “Holy shit, you can tell where they tried to airbrush away the crazy in the above picture” career distinguishes him to be a true American, we can at least relish in America’s ability to create such a glorious example of insanity, vanity, and, just, like so many drugs, you guys.  A man who his both crazier and less qualified to run a youth hockey league team than his brother, Emilio Estevez, yet is somehow far more rich and famous.

So let’s go through the fame, fortune, drugs, and crazy that is Charlie Sheen, an insane abomination America molded so the rest of us could all have a nice laugh at the man’s expense.

Warning:  If you are pregnant, nursing, have a heart condition, are allergic to penicillin, or once had a really bad LSD trip that you sometimes still have nightmares about, you may want to do yourself a favor and skip to the picture of the puppies at the end of this article.  Go ahead, we won’t hold it against you.

Continue reading

Chewing Gum, Surprisingly American, Reliably Delicious

“Chewing gum is a lot like heroin, since both are incredibly enjoyable.”

~William S. Burroughs


 Chewing gum is an enigmatic American invention.  While it combines ancient history, American ingenuity, and tooth decay, it is not considered to be as awesomely American as alligator wrestling or cage matches (or any combination of the two).  But, in reality, chewing gum is an underappreciated yet surprisingly American commodity.

First, ask yourself a question.  Who makes chewing gum?  Wrigley’s of course.  And where do the Chicago Cubs, America’s most American loveable losers play?  Wrigley Field.

Did you know:  Those two are named after the same fucking guy.

Once you pick up the pieces of your exploded cranium, the America Fun Fact of the Day presents to you…

Chewing Gum:  More American than your immigrant grandparents

Continue reading

How to Handle a Hostage Situation

“Where the hell am I?  Why am I tied up?  Why does it smell like baby powder?  WHY DOES IT SMELL LIKE BABY POWDER!?”

~Bruce Willis, Security officer of AFFotD, yesterday


 

Ladies and gentlemen, to quote Gandhi, shit just got real.  At AFFotD, we have on occasion offended groups that we perceived to “have a sense of humor” or “not really matter because Serbians don’t really count as people.”  And while we take our fair share of blame (for example, while our Elizabeth Smart jokes were pretty good digs on Mormonism, the route we took was pretty offensive to women and people with any hint of a sense of shame) we also think that everyone is sort of overreacting to this shit.  Not to pull the “they’re asking for it” card, but…come on guys.  This is America, we’re going to make fun of people who are not American enough to meet our strict standards of Americanness.  All we’re saying is, if Spaniards don’t want to be called lazy, they shouldn’t have all their stores close for two hours in the afternoon so everyone can have a nap.  It’s called an economy, not preschool, assholes.  But yet, there are a bunch of Spanish people outside our offices with picket signs that look very threatening.  As Americans we can’t understand the Spanish because, seriously guys?  Learn English.  But the signs are written in red and they have upside down exclamation points, which we’re guessing is a reference to lynching.

As is the America Fun Fact of the Day custom, we sent out a few interns to see what would happen, and sure enough they were torn apart faster than that horse in the pilot episode of “The Walking Dead.”  The protesters dug into them like David Hasselhoff digs into a Wendy’s hamburger- it was messy, there was partial nudity, and alcohol had to be involved.  We tried to get the cops involved but they said they couldn’t charge them with anything because publically murdering interns in a parking lot only warrants a 100 dollar littering ticket.  Which really pissed us off because we should have remembered that from last year’s Christmas party.

So yes, we’ve pissed off a few people.  Though I have no idea why there are so many Ukrainian people out there.  Sure, we mentioned Chernobyl the other day, but we really don’t know why they reacted the way they did.  (Ha, reacted.  Reactor.  Kaboom.)

To make a long story short, we got kidnapped by a shitton of Ukrainians today, which is why we’re not tackling any hard-hitting topic like Blizzards or Steak .  It was hard to tell how many there were, since they were all wearing masks (not like it would matter since all Ukrainians look the same anyway, amiright!?) but they got in through the air ducts.  They shot security officer Bruce Willis with a tranquilizer dart while he was taking part in our weekly “office man-versus-bear fight” just to limit the amount of potential rouge staffers going around and picking off their crew one by one while barefoot.  When the bear saw Willis go down, it was so surprised that it jumped out of the window, assuming it was supposed to die in the fight.  But that’s beside the point.

Continue reading

Babe Ruth Drinks and Smokes His Way Into the Record Books

“It’s simple kids, if you drink and smoke and eat and screw as much as me?  Well, kiddos, someday you’ll be just as good at sports!”

~Babe Ruth


There’s something about baseball that resonates with America.  Maybe it’s memories of sitting at the ballpark, drinking a beer while scarfing down eight hot dogs after forging a sick note for your third grade teacher.  Maybe it’s memories of suspenseful chess matches between evenly matched teams, the thrill of finding your team in the bottom of the 9th inning with two outs and the bases loaded.  Maybe it’s your appreciation for the nuances of the “balk” rule.  It isn’t that last one.

But more importantly, the players that the sport grew up around were America incarnate.  Baseball was a sport where a you could take a man with the name “Mordecai,” chop off two of his fingers, and have him pitch for the Chicago Cubs, and not only would he thrive, he would win two world series and be a hall of famer despite looking like he should work behind the counter at a convenience store in the south.

This is the face of a man who has struck out 1,375 professional sports players.

But really, many of baseball’s greats helped express what was truly American about us.  Ted Williams was a patriotic war veteran whose interests included batting .400 and having his head cryogenically frozen.  Like America.  Rumor has it that Joe DiMaggio married the hottest woman in the world at the time primarily so he could say that he was “Dick cousins” with JFK.  Like every American would.  Ty Cobb was a horrible racist who once beat up a cripple.  Uh, forget that we mentioned that last one.

But what ballplayer was more patriotic than both a deformed Indiana pitcher and a Georgian bigot combined?  How about an overeating, alcoholic fat man with a sex problem and a tobacco addiction.  No, we’re not talking about the gay love child of Uncle Sam and George Washington, we are of course talking about…

Babe “you’re next, sweetheart” Ruth.

Continue reading

America Fun Fact of the Day 2/26/2011- America Can Totally Jump Over a Car

“Hell yes I can jump over a car”
45% of America

Look at you, America.  You’re glorious.  When Blake Griffin won the slam dunk contest by jumping over a (unfortunately foreign made) car, the good old folks at ESPN decided to ask the question everyone was asking.  Could you, average American Joe, do the same thing as a 6 foot 10 inch tall professional athlete?  Well, 45% of us, or the 45% most American Americans out there, hear that question and think, “Hell, we’d jump over the damn roof.”

And look at Idaho, Delaware, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island over there.  A majority of the Americans there think they can jump over the hood of a goddamn car.  And there’s something damn special about that.

So America, as you go about your day, look at the nearest car, and at least allow yourself a moment to think….can I jump that fucker?  Because once you blindly assume you can, even when you can’t, then you’ll know you’re truly American.

“We Didn’t Need the House Anyway”: An Examination of American Gambling

“Money money money money, moneeeeey”

~The O’Jays


What makes gambling so American?  Many have delved into the subject, but really, despite the many many volumes of books entitled, “Gamblin’ Amrrican”, “Goin’ Broke, a Story of the American Dream” or “I like Gambling”, the answer is surprisingly simple.  Americans like gambling because nothing is more American than poorly placed blind faith, which leads every American to at some point ask themselves, “I know I won’t win…but what if I did?”

Why do we gamble?  When that was asked to the America Fun Fact of the Day staff, Michael Jordan shouted out, “Because it’s fun.”  And while that is true, we responded, “Nice minor league batting average, asshole,” because it’s pretty important to keep MJ’s ego in check.  But, nevertheless, fun is not the only reason why we gamble.  Gambling is reckless, stupid, and potentially dangerous.  In a word, it is America.

Gambling is such a strong force in our society that billion dollar industries can spring up around the very notion of fake gambling.  Virgins play with Magic: The Gathering cards, the cool kids circa 1997 were slamming Pogs harder than Ike Turner, and slap bets actually count as currency in certain nations of Sub-Continental Asia.

The first instance of gambling in America occurred in 1585, when Sir Richard Grenville, the admiral of the fleet that brought the of the first group of settlers of the Roanoke colony to the New world, declared a particular area to be safe for colonization.  One of the settlers asked him, “Wanna bet?”  The first wager in America was then set- if everyone in the Roanoke colony got slaughtered by the indigenous population, or were all swept away by a natural disaster, Grenville owed them all a beer.  When the Roanoke colony disappeared several years later, Grenville stayed true to his pledge, and in 1591 he purchased one beer for every lost colony member.  He drank them all in one night, and in a blackout drunken stupor, grabbed control of his ship, the HMS Revenge (which is a glorious name for a galleon), and suicide attacked 52 Spanish ships, heavily damaging 15 of them, before dying of his wounds several days later.  After his death, a cyclone appeared to destroy his ship and 16 other Spanish ships.  Really.  As a result, the first ever American bet was able to get an upper class British man wasted, while also killing a large amount of foreigners from a country that naps and doesn’t speak the same language as we do.  The American roots of gambling could not be shaken from that day forward.

America employs many forms of gambling, which are all meant to rip you off.  However, if you never received money back from gambling, it technically is called “stealing” or “a con game,” both of which are still American, just not quite as American (or legal) as gambling.  Gambling requires a delicate balance between letting someone win just enough that everyone else thinks they have a chance to win, while still making piñatas full of cash.  Princeton University in 1960 performed a psychological study regarding this phenomenon, where small children were told to look for lollipops on the floor.  All of these lollipops were made out of shards of glass, and many children cut their mouths horribly trying to find lollipops.  After a while, they stoped looking.  But when one child successfully found a real lollipop, shouting, “I got a lolly!” the other children would continue looking, even if it meant continually inflicting themselves with massive amounts of pain.  Needless to say, psychological experiments in the 1960s were brutal, fucked up, and really awesome in that messed up David Lynch kind of way.

Below is a list of the current most popular forms of gambling, and how they violate you (sexually) with hope.

Continue reading

The Cure For a Night at a Vegan Restaurant

“…is…is this a trick?”

~REDACTED

Last week, we sent an Undercover Investigative journalist into the most evil place we could imagine- a Vegan restaurant.  We redacted the staff member’s name, because we knew that consuming Vegan food would leave an irreparable mark on his permanent record.  But what we saw…it, well it haunted us.  We saw a man reduced to rubble, not even afforded the decency of being allowed to chug a glass of bacon grease after his tofu crab cakes.  He was given bowls full of warmed, liquid vegetables, normally only reserved for prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

Our senior staff members watched the hidden camera footage of poor REDACTED as he suffered through a five course meal of nothing but vegetables, tofu, and succubi.  It was painful to watch.  “Oh God, he’s losing his mind out there,” Harrison Ford, our aviation editor, sighed.

“He’s eating it!  Oh God, HE’S EATING IT!” Bruce Willis, our Barefoot Security Chief, began screaming.

“He’s going down in flames!” JFK III, the unknown-to-the-public grandson of JFK, exclaimed (it might sound like he was being insensitive, but man, you should hear how many airplane jokes the kid makes, it’s a bit fucked up).

“What have we done?  What have we become?” Johnny Roosevelt asked, bowing his head sadly.  We thought that REDACTED was done for.  He was drooling on himself, he started weeping for minutes at a time, he didn’t even crack a smile when he started slapping the waiter while screaming, “YOUR NAME IS BRIAN!  SAY IT!  FUCKING SAY IT!”

Vegans dress ridiculously.

We thought we might have lost him, and would have to chisel his name on our wall of fallen staff members, along such illustrious names as Hunter S. Thompson and Interns #1 through 354 (Interns are sort of the Spinal Tap drummers of our operation).  But there was a minor miracle, as REDACTED ran for freedom, fighting every vegetable-laden impulse telling his body to just give up, and he found the Mecca that is White Castle.  After a dozen sliders, our medical staff was on the scene, pumping him full of liquefied beef and various animal souls.  It was touch and go for a while, but REDACTED made it through.  When he recovered, we decided, one week after they day of his darkest hour, to give him a token of our appreciation.  Because we at AFFotD take care of our own.

So here, we present, REDACTED‘s night of American redemption.

Continue reading

Jim Bowie Will Gut You Like a Fish

“I’m not saying I’ll gut you like a fish but…well, no, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

~Jim Bowie

After yesterday’s Fun Fact regarding Davy Crockett, it might come as a surprise to see another Fun Fact about a similar topic.  Why?  Maybe it’s because today is  the 175th Anniversary of the beginning of the Battle of the Alamo or something (wait, we have to check that.  Holy shit, it is?  We were just pulling that out of our asses…)  And it could be because the people behind the Alamo were some of the greatest American champions of all time.  Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because Jim Bowie was such an unmitigated badass who invented a knife best suited to murder polar bears and decided to use it on people that we couldn’t wait any longer before giving him his proper, AFFotD due.

Plus he kind of looks like John C. Reilly

Continue reading

Davy, Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier

“If they make some sort of cheesy Disney TV show about me, just make sure they point out all the Injuns I’ve killed.

~Davy Crockett

There are certain images and phrases that are ingrained in the mind of every American.  “I cannot tell a lie,” “Four score and seven years ago,” and, “Remember the Alamo,” are likely the three most instantly recognizable.  And of the iconic American images, there is Lincoln’s stove-top hat, Washington’s wig, and Davy Crockett’s coonskin cap.  For a man who only served briefly as a Congressman, and who eventually was struck down by Mexicans at the age of 50, it is Davy Crockett’s legend that lingers as strong in the minds of America as that of our greatest founding fathers.  And why is this?

Because America loves a badass, especially one who does not fuck around.

Davy (Davyyy) Crockett was born on August 17, 1786 in Tennessee, having unfortunately missed out on his chance to kill Redcoats as a child by a few years.  David Crockett was named after his paternal grandfather, who was killed by Indians in 1777.  As soon as he was born, Davy Crockett crawled out of his parent’s home, wandered to a cliff, where he dropped a boulder on a passing Indian hunting party like a goddamn Looney Tunes gag.  Once the dust had settled, he giggled, “fuuuuck you.”  When Crockett was three years old, he fashioned a raccoon out of clay.  Satisfied with his craftsmanship, a Toddler Davy Crocket spit on his creation, as most frontiersmen spent most of their time either killing Indians or spitting on the ground.  When his saliva touched the sculpture, it sprang to life, becoming a flesh-and-blood raccoon.  An astonished Davy Crocket picked up the creature, momentarily in awe of what he created, before snapping its neck and making a hat out of it.  This is the reason why his coonskin cap gave Davy Crockett his powers.

When Crockett was in school at the age of 13, taking a break from killing Indians as a way to avenge his grandfather’s death, a child at his school embarrassed him on the first day, no doubt saying, “Davy Crockett?  Who’s that?”  Crockett proceeded to beat the shit out of the dude, and began skipping classes because he figured his teacher would give him a “whupping,” which of course would mean that Crockett would have to beat the shit out of his teacher as well.  When his father found out he was skipping classes, he was so enraged that Crockett had no choice but to run away from home, spending the next three years wandering through Tennessee, where he learned how to hunt and trap animals in between his impromptu Indian hunts.

When he returned at the age of 16, he saw his hometown was in shambled, suffering from an extreme case of Davy Crockett withdrawal.  Crockett’s father was so relieved that he only beat him lightly, using an open palm.  This was the most comforting display of father affection he had ever seen, and Crockett knew he was now a man.

In 1813, Crockett joined the Tennessee Militia, where he fought in the Creek War, a Civil War between rival Native American tribes.  Crockett was able to go about killing Indians, while also working with members of the Cherokee and Choctaw tribes as allies.  This gave him an inside knowledge of how Indians think, but also satiated his Indian revenge lust for some time.

After achieving the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, Crockett decided to pursue a career in politics.  When he lost his first run for Congress in 1824, an upset Davy Crockett decided to see how many bears he could kill in a year.  His number of 105 bear kills in a year was a world record, and would remain in the history books until the birth of C. Dale Petersen.

Davy Crocket was a man of principle.  Particular, the principle of, “Stay the fuck out of my way, or I will end you.”  Davy Crockett decided to take a break from his bear hunts to become a Congressman.  His main reason for doing so was so he could say shit in speeches like, “In one word I’m a screamer, and have got the roughest racking horse, the prettiest sister, the surest rifle and the ugliest dog in the district. I’m a leetle the savagest crittur you ever did see. My father can whip any man in Kentucky, and I can lick my father. I can outspeak any man on this floor, and give him two hours start. I can run faster, dive deeper, stay longer under, and come out drier, than any chap this side the big Swamp. I can outlook a panther and outstare a flash of lightning, tote a steamboat on my back and play at rough and tumble with a lion, and an occasional kick from a zebra.”  Seriously.

And zebras kick like a motherfucker

We at AFFotD have realized that we have yet to break the fourth wall in our customary fashion, so let’s take a moment here to say, haha, holy shit, can you believe that?  Davy Crockett is the kind of man who would break into song and dance if you ever caught him fucking your wife.  Davy Crockett doesn’t need an umbrella because rain is afraid to piss him off.  If you ever thought a negative thought about Davy Crockett, his ghost would appear and kick you right in the balls, and if you are a woman his ghost would pay for and supervise a lengthy sex change procedure just so he can show up again once the final surgery is completed to christen your new balls with a fresh kick to them.  If you ever asked Davy Crockett what time it is, he’d slap your face and then gallop away riding a puma.  Seriously, he started that speech by saying, “Who-Who-Whoop — Bow-Wow-Wow-Yough” which makes it seem less like he was giving a speech to Congress, and more like he was trying to get everyone to give him a beat for some sort of early-19th century precursor to freestyle rap.

So apparently Crockett has the prettiest sister, the meanest father, and can take an occasional kick from a fucking zebra.  It’s like a game, “Which of these crazy things has Davy Crockett actually said?”  You can play at home!

A. “I’m taller than a spruce, smell lovelier than an evergreen, and if I pop you in the mouth well that’s just me being polite by not knockin’ the ugly mess right off yer shoulders.”

B. “Pop, pop, pop!  Bom, bom, bom! Throughout the day.  No time for memorandums now.  Go ahead!  Liberty and independence forever!”

C. “Well, I got my cap and my rifle, and I can end you with either iffn’ I set my mind to it.”

D. “I find my dogs had a two-year-old bear down, a-wooling away on him; so I just took out my big butcher, and went up and slap’d it into him, and killed him without shooting.”

E. “Fellas, I’ve gone dancin’ with a bear and I’ve gone trappin’ for a woman, and ain’t either’s as easy as you’d be think’n.”

F.      “I told the people of my district that I would serve them as faithfully as I have done; but if not…you may all go to hell and I’ll go to Texas.”

If you guessed, “Well clearly he actually said B, D, and F, but you guys did a good job with A, C, and E, because those pretty much sound like something Crockett would say,” then you would be correct.  And by the way, B happens to be the last thing written down in his journal during the battle of the Alamo.  Fuckin’ A.

During his time in Congress, Crockett became political enemies with Andrew Jackson, refusing to be his “lap dog.”  Andrew Jackson has killed for less, but he was also smart enough to know that it’s not a good idea to get in a duel with a man who was able to shoot a bullet at an ax from 40 yards away and split the fucking bullet in half.  He primarily opposed Jackson on the Indian Relocation Act, probably because they’d be a lot tougher to chase down if they were moved West.  This opposition cost him a chance at reelection, to which he told everyone, “Well, fuck off, then,” (Quote F) and went off to Mexico, having grown tired of killing Indians and Bears, and wanting to upgrade to Mexicans.

Davy (Davyyyy) Crockett (King of the Wild Frontier) went down to the Alamo, bringing with him some dozens of armed Americans, including legendary pioneer Jim Bowie, the creator of the Bowie knife, as well as the inventor of the popular singer David Bowie.  In February of 1836, Crockett and his entourage arrived at the Alamo, where the garrisoned men were surprised to see an entire Mexican Army awaiting them.  While everyone thought to themselves, “shit shit shit shit shit shit shiiiiit,” Crockett and Bowie just smiled and prepared for the bloodbath.

The rest of the story is engrained in American History, the inevitable defeat against impossible odds of the Alamo.  After battle the Mexican siege for two weeks, the Mexican army broke through the walls on March 6th, killing every member of the Alamo Mission, though the overmatched members of the Alamo killed between 400 and 600 of the Mexican troops assaulting them, accounting for over one third of the attacking force.  There are two accounts of Davy Crockett’s final moments, both of which highlight the “Don’t fuck with me, assholes” spirit of David Crockett.  One account, from a former American Slave who worked as a cook for one of the Mexican officers, describes that David Crockett was found dead in the barracks, surrounded by, “No less than sixteen Mexican corpses,” with his knife buried in one of them.  This would not be surprising, since at the age of 50 Crockett would not be able to kill quite as many Mexicans as in his youth, but it’s still an impressive effort.

The second tale of his demise speculates that Crockett was captured, with an enraged Santa Anna demanding he be executed.  While this is often used to show Santa Anna as a ruthless military leader without honor, it does capture Crockett’s final words as, “I’m warning you boys, I’m a screamer.”  Either way, it can be decided that Davy Crockett left this world the same way he entered it- with a big “Fuck you” to a large group of minorities.

Wherein AFFotD Discovers an Erroneous Discussion of America’s Greatness By a Dastardly Foe of the Moniker “The Health Ranger” Who Threatens Our Very Way of American Excellence Through Cowardly Ideals

“Seriously, are you guys going out of your way to find articles like this just to piss me off?”

~Johnny Roosevelt, AFFotD Editor-in-Chief

Other publications pretend to know what’s “American” (COUGH FORTUNE MAGAZINE COUGH), and they generally have distressing views on what they feel makes this country great.  Rarely is whiskey mentioned, knife fighting is virtually nonexistent, and C. Dale Petersen as always remains below the radar (which, to be fair, is how he prefers it).  But it’s not every day that we stumble across an article that leaves us convinced that it is an act of sabotage against the American way of awesomeness.  An article that is so inconceivably un-American that to call it “Why America is Still a Great Place to Live:  Thirteen Things I Love About this Country” is more insulting to us than watching someone take a piss on the National Monument.  But here we have Mike Adams, who goes by the name “The Health Ranger,” deciding to tell us what’s great about America for a site called…Natural News?  Just take a look at all the things that are wrong about this picture.

First of all…nature?  Fuck nature.  How many times do we have to say that?  Plus, the site has more half-assed ads for questionable products meant to rip you off than a Scientology phone book.  But look in the top left corner (wait…shit, which one is left…Make the L’s, make the L’s with your hands) yeah, the top left corner.  Do you see what we see?  CHINESE!?  SPIES!  THEY’RE SPIES!  When we’re all stuck speaking Chinese in 2035, you can blame Natural News for paving the way.

So right off the bat, we have some concerns.  Plus, everything is green, but it’s that “Save mother Gaia” bullshit shade of green, not that “Money, bitches!” shade of green.  Besides, the title seems to imply that there’s something wrong with loving America.  Why did he throw the word “still” in there?  It should be “Why America is a Great Place to Live” with a picture of someone doing push-ups with one hand while chugging a beer.  We…hesitantly began reading the article, even though the author sort of looks like Lance Armstrong if he had been born in Wisconsin and once got out of date rape charges.

“Ha ha!  Plausible Deniability!”

Continue reading