Dear World,

I don't know about you, but I sure am tired of hearing the following 50 words, terms and phrases. Whaddya say we stuff 'em all in that storage locker, between "Who let the dogs out?" and "metrosexual," and maybe break 'em out again, say, 2033-ish?

Thanks!

Love,
Jeem

PS: If you want to bring back "Where's the beef?" I think now would be an OK time, at least until mad cow disease really takes hold and newspapers start using it as a headline.

And now, without further ado...

Earl Weaver was a very colorful manager for Baltimore back in the day. He was known for excessively arguing a call. Here's some raw proof. This is probably why they no longer mic umpires and managers during a game.

I've gone 29 years having never read a comic book. Ever. I've been in a comic book shop once or twice, and only because the one near my house growing up had extremely sour gum that was popular in the early nineties. And I feel like I'm missing out on something.

I truly enjoy superhero movies, and a string of Pavlovian drool hangs from my mouth each time I see an ad for The Dark Knight. I've been laughing my ass off to the Kyle Piccolo shorts, and once paraded around my backyard in red underwear and a blue T-shirt pretending to be the man of steel. But I've never cracked open a graphic novel.

It's that time again. The time that I ask for a favor. (This site is free, you owe it to me.) I need a recommendation on a comic book to read. I have a few stipulations. First, I don't want to start reading a book halfway through the storyline. No one wants to waste their time trying to figure out who's who. I want to start the story fresh. Also, I want some action. Fights, explosions, etc... Finally, let's avoid the strange-ass nudity books. I'll more than likely be reading this on the subway and don't want awkward glances from my fellow passengers. That's it. Let 'em rip in the comments section.

You are now addressing a man of the cloth. So let's show a little respect, huh?

No need to bow. No need to genuflect. No need to kiss my Ramones ring. Just a little respect is all I'm asking.

The Universal Life Church has seen fit to ordain me, thus entitling me to "all the rights and privileges to perform all duties of the Ministry." After a thorough background check and an intensive test to make sure I could spell my name right on the form, I passed inspection.

I've hung my shingle outside our Upper West Side apartment and have officially opened up shop. If you meet the required fees, I am now available for all your ecumenical needs.

I know this is little more heavy a subject than we usually deal with here. However, it is worthwhile to know more about the world around us.

Aussie photographer Patrick Brown has spent five years documenting the shocking black market wildlife trade. It is the third most profitable illegal trade in the world behind drugs and weapons.

A short documentary with Brown's photos can be seen at MSNBC.com.

Among the most sought after items are rhino horn -- which is five times as valuable as gold -- tiger meat and bear bile. You read that right. Traditional Chinese medicine says that bear bile can cure hepatitis. Write that down Echowood.

Leave those poor monkeys alone. They have problems enough as it is...

State Wildlife Officials in Georgia are trying to figure out how a pile of dead sharks ended up dumped beside a rural road. The sharks appeared to have died recently, and all six had had their teeth removed. No mean feat, as all the sharks must have had their jaws broken to get the teeth out.

In unconnected news, spotted by myself on 42nd Street yesterday, a new ad by The Discovery Channel to promote Shark Week, where an enterprising photographer has filled a boy's mouth with Sharks Teeth.

I'm just saying....

Stephon Marbury has taken sneaker sponsorship to a new level. Steph has his own line of affordable basketball shoes that evidently sell for $8.98?!? So, of course, he tatted the company logo onto his dome. Makes sense.

I'm not sure, but isn't there a good possibility that the company will not be around for the long run?

It's a good thing Hakeem Olajuwon and Karl Malone didn't tattoo L.A. Gear on their head. That would have been embarrassing...

(via: Deadspin)

In high school, when a fight would happen, I was always that guy on the sideline egging the combatants on, while dutifully protecting my beautiful face from any wayward fist flying. It would seem not a lot has changed with me. (Still beautiful, still a virgin.) So when I caught wind of Michael Ian Black picking a fight with Tucker Max, I got so excited that I put down the dried floral arrangement I was building and vomited several times in a bush. The promise of fisticuffs will do that to a man.

It started with Black wanting to promote his new book. Max's book holds the top spot on Amazon's humor category and Black was ready to pounce. It spiraled into blog produced name calling, and the scene has been set for an all-out war. Stay tuned to both of their blogs to see how things turn out. If you need me, I'll be the one holding the coats and making sure the cops don't show up.

(Via GorillaMask)