When it comes to cakes, if you can dream it, someone can make it.

That's not always such a great thing.

These culinary imperfections may have been created for theme parties, (Halloween, 40th birthday, etc) but that doesn't excuse the level of detailed grossness of each.

To me, the goal of baking a cake is for it to be eaten.
Celebrated.
Enjoyed.
And these gross cakes, do not fit in that category.

And so I advice not to view this post while eating.
Or with a full stomach.

Otherwise, enjoy.

This is Josh. He loves AC/DC. And he is 8 years old.

As luck would have it, Josh was chosen as one of 3 finalists in a contest for tickets to see AC/DC when they come to his area.

And after the first few days of voting, Josh was in the lead. He was miles ahead of the competition.

Then they company running the contest, Bell/MSN, reset the voting.

Boo!
No realistic explanation was given, just thousands of votes, and Josh's lead, were wiped away.

We have 2 days to get Josh back on top. Tell Bell/MSN to suck it. And send an 8 year old to sing Back in Black and Thunder Struck.

YBNBY urges you to find the AC/DC contest link on the InMusic front page. Click it and then you should be able to Vote For Josh.

If not, they may have suspended the voting again.
Thanks.

From The Sports Desk...

Or is this Monkey News? Bloody hell, I really don't know. This tale is in a class by itself. You may want to fetch yourself a chilled beverage and prepare yourselves for this one.

Zev Chafets has a book on the shelves right now that is inspiring debate. Cooperstown Confidential challenges the validity of the condemnation of the guilty during the Steroids Era. It isn't fair that we cast stones at Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Manny Ramirez ... my fingers are getting tired ... you know, all the rest of those cheatin' bums. Chafet writes that even baseball sacred cows Mickey Mantle, Sandy Koufaz and Hank Aaron took some sort of performance enhancing substance. Usually amphetamines, which is well established as a problem in baseball's past. He also brings up the story that Ty Cobb bragged about killing someone and he's in the Hall. He may have a point there.

But here is the fun story. That of Pud Galvin, the first 300 game winner in baseball history. Pud played from 1875 to 1892 for the Saint Louis Brown Stockings, Buffalo Bisons and a few other clubs. Including the infamous Pittsburgh Burghers who only existed for one season. "The Little Steam Engine," as Pud was called because of his durability, still holds the record for most games started in a season at a whopping 75. What could have given Pud his super-strength and rubber arm? Well, perhaps monkey testosterone.

In 1889 Pud openly swigged (and touted the benefits of) the Brown-Séquard Elixir. A concoction made by physician Charles-Édouard Brown-Séquard. Supposedly this is the first case of a baseball player using "performance enhancing drugs." I guess. One of the main ingredients was indeed, monkey testosterone. The "juice" also featured extract from the "testicles of guinea pigs and dogs." Fantastic.

Why couldn't we have had this elixir used by today's players? Imagine if we could call Alex Rodriguez "Monkey Spunk." That's fun for the whole family.

I saw this on reddit, where they linked to it on a photo-hosting service, which makes it impossible to trace the source or get any more information. OK, we'll just make something up. Click to embiggen.

We had the Charlie Booker rant from a few weeks ago which was so right on

Now the Late, Late Show's Craig Ferguson breaks down why our culture has hit the skids. And the sequence of events that have led to the rise in popularity of youth, stupidity and the Jonas Brothers.

I think I'm solidly on the record as hating mascots, cheerleaders and dance teams. They should be banned full stop. Why are the mascots there? Even the racing wieners and bratwursts in Milwaukee are suspect. At least those guys are competing. Everyone else is dancing on the dugout for no apparent reason.

So, after some cat for the Binghampton Mets smacks a grand salami, Bingo the Bee is prancing around like a dope and tries to jump over a fence. How'd that work out for ya, Bingo?



Stinger down! Idiot.

Thanks Ben for sending me this.