Where did they find this jury anyway? Pardons “R” Us? After the verdict was read, I was waiting for the Candid Camera crew to reveal themselves. But they never did. What seemed an impossible Hail Mary pass ended in a shocking home-team defeat. Perhaps the jury was hypnotically dazzled by the overly catchy lawyer’s rhyme: “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”
And, of course, we have the lawyers to point fingers at. What can I say? (No—really—what can I say without being sued?) Anyway, we learned that with a flawed system and lots of cash, the power of self-preservation should never be underestimated. So remember the odds if you have a taste for blood. I guess the question is, “Do you feel lucky?” Well, do ya, punk?
Luckily, karma came around to right the wrong with O.J.’s Vegas robbery verdict.
№024
Guy standing up at a concert
For ruining a good time.
Live music is one of my personal passions. The anticipation of lights dimming and that initial uproar of the crowd cheering in unison are unparalleled. The first riff gives me goose bumps. The experience can be exhilarating for many. Unfortunately, it’s usually ruined by some annoying jerkwad.
The guy who just won’t sit down in his seat ruins the concert experience. Let’s get one thing straight: Concerts only have two options in regards to seating. One is an actual seat. The other is no seat at all; it’s just general admission, standing room only. In the case of the latter, it’s okay to stand, jump up and down, bump into people, rush the stage, and even crowd-surf. However, if you paid for a seat, USE IT. Stand up for the first couple songs, showing your support while waving your arms, and then sit the fuck down. You are being irritating and you’re pissing off everyone behind you. This type of behavior is unacceptable and will no longer be tolerated.
Other guys (and girls) that make the concertgoing experience less than enjoyable:
• Guy too drunk and belligerent at a concert. (Just pass out already.)
• Guy throwing bottles at a concert. (Great idea, dipshit.)
• Guy singing too loudly at a concert. (Sing, just not louder than the band.)
• Girl screeching when her favorite song starts at a concert. (Please stop.)
• Guy wearing a T-shirt of the band he is seeing at a concert. (Don’t be that guy.)
№025
Richard Gere
For making it a sin to own a gerbil.
America. The land of gossip, rumors, and dirty laundry. Our constant craving for celebrity mischief is overwhelming. Especially if it’s of a sexual nature. The paparazzi continually serve it up fresh, and we keep gorging.
As rumors go, this is a doozy… The allegation goes that Richard Gere supposedly went to the emergency room with a foreign object lodged up his rectum in 1993. An X-ray was taken and the object in question was revealed to be a gerbil. He was then rushed into surgery, where the top surgeons in Los Angeles extracted the asphyxiated rodent.
Okay, I admit it, we had a few gerbils and hamsters when we were children. However, thanks to Richard, it is very embarrassing to admit. So yeah, I may have spun poor Peattie on the ottoman until he was dizzy—but I NEVER partook in rodent ramming.
So who is really to blame for this nonsense? Some say Gere’s nemesis Sylvester Stallone. Apparently, they rubbed each other the wrong way during a lunch break while on the set of some crappy movie. They were in a car and Gere was responsible for some greasy mustard dribbling on Sly’s thigh. It’s unclear if the grease penetrated Stallone’s pants, but there must have been some dry cleaning involved. It came to be a fight, with the officer and (so-called) gentleman getting Stallone kicked off the movie’s set.
Quite frankly, Mr. Gere only made matters worse: He never denied the gerbil claim when it was alleged. But mostly, it was the public’s fault for wanting to believe such an intrusive rumor. Either way, if you own a gerbil, make sure you “hide” it before your friends arrive, NOT while they’re there.
№026
Coppertone
For inventing sunless tanning lotion.
Soaking up the sun used to be great. You got a nice golden-brown skin tone and acquired more than a daily dose of vitamin D. Unfortunately, after many years of studies, we found out that excessive sun exposure is linked to skin cancer. So what do we do to compensate? We use sunblock to enjoy a carefree time under the sun. Unfortunately, instances of skin cancer are not declining. Recent studies are suggesting agents in sun protection lotion may be causing cancer as well. I know, I know—damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.
The Skin Cancer Foundation estimates that more than six hundred thousand new cases of skin cancer arise each year. Is there a way to avoid the sun and still be tan? One solution is to apply brown shoe polish liberally. The other is sunless tanning cream. However, beware of misuse, as you may be forced to join the comedy circuit with Carrot Top.
Coppertone invented sunless tanning lotion. The company’s scientists must have secretly added a chemical to its sunless ointment that causes color-blindness (similar to beer goggles). This must be why people think they look good after using it. TAKE OFF your shady spectacles. It’s not a Caribbean tan, you’re ORANGE! In case you were wondering, humans are NOT inherently pumpkin-colored. But if you still wish for a sunless tanned physique, and you aren’t expecting an Oscar win (yeah, we are talkin’ about you, Charlize), you can always give it a try.
Be realistic when it comes to skin cancer protection. Pretending you are a vampire is not the solution. Turning yourself into bunny food isn’t recommended either. Go play in the sun with some applied SPF and try to avoid using Crisco as a tanning accelerant. Just don’t go to extremes. Here’s a helpful mental chart to follow: If the sun gives you blisters, or if self-bronzer turns you into a Cheeto, then you’ve gone overboard. Use common sense: Too much of anything is bad.
№027
BP
For you know what.
Usually, everyone’s life trots along at a steady pace. There may be slight ups and subtle downs that you have control over. And we have to admit, in the heat of the moment, most seemingly significant choices are actually minuscule in the grand scheme of things. Typically, what defines our integrity and character is just a handful of split second decisions. These decisions can make or break us, and sometimes… it can affect the masses. And yet the right choice always seemed so clearly black and white in hindsight. Or, in BP’s eyes, just black. Black for the oil they leaked, black in their neglect, and black for the human and environmental casualties they caused.
I could talk all day about blowout preventers, bad legislation, Minerals Management Service, greedy oil supermajors, Transocean, Halliburton, and a slimy yacht racing CEO. But I am not going to bore you with the details—you already know it’s a catastrophic headache that even a tanker-sized Tylenol can’t cure. So let’s focus on the root of the crude mess in America’s gulf. Whose decision was it? When was the moment? And what the fuck? Well, it was BP—it was clearly when they gave priority to profits in lieu of safety—and obviously, it’s because they are affiliated with Satan.