Rambling Rhodes

Jiu-Jitsu Redux

Ow. Sore. Ouch. Ow ow ow. Arms. . . lifting. . . impossible. Pain. Neck. . . sore. Ouchy, ouch ouch. etc.

A Testicle PSA

There's something really hot about a chick with a British accent telling you to inspect your testicles. She didn't have to take a bite out of that damn thing though. Totally broke the mood.

Via Joseph, who saw it and immediately thought of me, which I guess is nice. I think.

Babies In The News

For those of you familiar with this blog, you know that I sometimes, occasionally, perhaps regularly, engage in potty talk. Potty talk is, to be perfectly honest, my default mode of communication, and it has served me well.

But, today, I'm going to engage in baby talk, rather than potty talk, because babies have been big news over the past week or so.

Again, for those of you familiar with this blog, you know that I'm about to take the lazy blogger's way out and treat you to news excerpts from assorted media outlets while interjecting my own whimsical commentary.

For our first first bout of baby-related news, we travel, of course, to Texas, a state that has been heavily featured here before, both because Texas is a large state with a lot of people, and because a lot of those same people are arguably not that bright. With apologies to Mandy and Tammy, and many other readers I'm sure.

From a June 28 Fox News report, we learn that "An East Texas college student finally learned why she'd gained weight and was having abdominal pain — she was about to give birth."

Now, stories such as this aren't all that unique. Girls have given birth without realizing they were pregnant before. What makes this story fantastic is that the girl in question, 19-year-old Annie Cohen, was already a mother of a three-year-old, so one would expect she'd have picked up on the pregnancy cues with a little more skill.

What also makes this story fantastic is the sheer number of astounding quotes featured in the article; quotes such as:

After the delivery, Annie Cohen ran inside, yelling at her mother to call 911. "I said 'Why?'" recounted Julie Cohen (the mother). "She said, 'There's a baby in the yard.' I said, 'Whose is it?' She said, 'It's mine.'"

One could almost imagine this Einstein-inspired conversation going on into infinity. In fact, let me try:

Yours? Yes, mine. As in, your baby? Yes, my baby! So, you're pregnant? No, not any more! Because you gave birth? Yes, in the yard! So, there's a baby in the yard? Yes, my baby! Because you were pregnant, but not any more? Mom, knock it off!

But even my wondrous imagination can't compete with the actual additional quotes featured in this article.

"It was like a natural instinct," marveled her mother. "She knew to push to turn the baby's shoulder and to get the baby out."

Yes, her daughter exhibited the natural instinct of childbirth, except for, of course, picking up on nine months of pregnancy signals. One wonders how this mother/daughter duo couldn't ascertain that a pregnancy was in the works. Thankfully, the observant mother offered up her own personal explanation.

"It's a big surprise," said Julie Cohen. "I thought she was just really liking her pizza."

We travel now, thankfully, away from Texas, over to Milwaukee, Wis., where, according to a June 29 CNN.com report: Weighing in at 13 pounds, 12 ounces, Delaney Jessica Buzzell isn't your average newborn. Her parents have even dubbed her the "Big Enchilada."

Nothing helps a child's self esteem better than having their mother and father make fun of their weight just minutes into their worldly existence. That's bad enough, but when even the nurse chimes in. . .

"It was ready for a steak," the nurse said. "It had quite an appetite."

Poor Delaney. I can almost imagine the thoughts going through that newborn's massive head.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'M A BIG BABY! Please, knock it off with the big baby jokes already. Har har. Big Enchilada. Yeah, THAT will go over well on the playground a few years from now. Guys will just be clamboring to take the Big Enchilada to prom, I'm sure. Thanks for dooming me to a lifetime as a social pariah, everyone. I appreciate that."

And that wraps up today's installment of baby talk. Join me again next post when I'll try to get back to my regularly-scheduled potty talk. See you then.

Here's a list of famous women I'm posting to boost Web traffic: Christina Aguilera. Jessica Alba. Lindsay Lohan. Tina Fey.. Carrie Ann Moss. Kate Hudson. Summer Glau. Jennifer Love Hewitt. Jennifer Connelly. Christina Aguilera. Jessica Alba. Lindsay Lohan. Jessica Alba. Jenny Garth. Jenny Garth. Alyssa Milano. Alyssa Milano. Kate Hudson. Summer Glau. Jennifer Love Hewitt. Jennifer Connelly. Evanna Lynch. Evanna Lynch. Evanna Lynch.

Breaking The Rut

It's been just over a year since I last participated in a hapkido class. My reasons for taking a martial arts hiatus are varied, but I think I was mainly just burnt out. Today, however, I'm going to poke my curious nose back into the realm of the martial arts.

At 5:30 this evening, I'll be visiting this place to see what Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu has to offer. It should be interesting.

Hey, Good Advice!

Ha! Ha! < - Nelson Muntz

Oh, please let this happen.

Please, oh please, oh please, oh please, oh please.

Via Mitch, who offers commentary of his own.

Holy Fark!

Fark PhotoShop Contest. . . Create a movie poster for a "prequel" to a famous film

Too many fantastic entries to choose just one. I laughed a lot.

UPDATE: Now that I think about it, "Dirty Whore" should probably be the winning entry.

Nick Coleman's An Idiot, But I Repeat Myself

It's been awhile since I've mocked the journalistic geezerisms that spew forth from Nick Coleman's fountain pen. It's not that he hasn't been worthy of derision, it's just that his written ruminations are so bad, it's tiresome to pick apart each of his mental bird-droppings.

Well, the drought ends today!

When Daniel was thrown into the lions' den, angels came and shut the mouths of the lions. Then, when King Darius saw Daniel had been spared, he set Daniel free and put his accusers in his place. They got eaten.

No Nick Coleman column is complete without a lead paragraph intro that is eight million degrees away from the actual point of his column. Nick's not happy unless he's treating his readers to a Bible/History lesson. Actually, now that I think about it, Nick's not happy EVER. No problem is too small that it doesn't warrant the patented Nick Coleman overreaction, as we shall see.

We need leaders like Darius.

Of course, old Daniel would never have found himself in the lion's den in the first place had King Darius not issued an order banning prayer to any one god EXCEPT HIMSELF for thirty days, so yeah, Nick, we need more leaders like self-absorbed King Darius. You fucking moron.

If we had some, Minnesota would have fewer kids being mauled in back-yard zoos, like the 10-year-old from Royalton, who was nearly killed a few days ago when he was attacked by a tiger and a lion that had bolted from their cage.

Annnnnnd, the segue is complete. Nick has now glommed onto his point for this column, such as it is. A child was mauled by an exotic pet, and Nick's pissed off about it.

Angels may have saved the boy, but they got timely assistance from the Morrison County sheriff, who called upon a veterinarian to shut the animals' mouths. Permanently.

That's Nick Coleman-speak for "the vet killed the tiger and lion." Leave it to Nick to use 27 words to explain what most people could explain in seven.

Nicely done. If county authorities hadn't been so thorough in their duties, I would suggest that the animals' owner spend some time with his charges. Alone. Inside the cage.

You get that? The owner should have fed himself to his hungry pets in the wake of this tragedy. Old Nick is so subtle and clever, it's a wonder to me that he's not nationally syndicated.

There's a bit of Ol' King Darius in me, I guess. I'll take little kids over big cats, every time.

And, also, there's a bit of Nick Coleman who wouldn't mind if people were required by law to pray and worship only him for 30 days. At any rate, Nicky Boy has established that he's mad at exotic pet owners. So, now let's see if he has any further points.

What a kook-ridden, cat-scratch-fever state this has become. Just think about the large and unknown number of your neighbors who keep killers in their yards.

Ummmmmm. . . none?

Then ask why the state hasn't done anything about it that amounts to more than tossing bunny rabbits to tigers and saying, "Nice kitty."

There you have it, folks. In Nick's walnut-sized mind, the STATE should get down and dirty and start addressing this atrocious epidemic of rampant lions and tigers and bears. . . OH MY!

I remember writing a story more than 20 years ago about a guy who staked a lion in front of an abandoned farmhouse he owned in order to keep vandals at bay. I don't remember the guy, but I remember the lion. His name was Spike. In those days, a lion working as a watchdog seemed kind of cute.

For those familiar with Nick's writing, information like that found in the preceding paragraph is what Nick believes entitles him to the claim that he "Knows stuff."

Then kids started getting eaten, bite by bite.

Whoa. That's a big claim. Got anything to back that up, Nick?

I don't have to list all the recent incidents in which people have been attacked in Minnesota by animals that should be breaking the necks of gnus.

Without consulting Google, I can recall only two incidents in the last five years during which a child was mauled by an exotic animal in the state of Minnesota. There was the recent Royalton incident, and the more local case of a few years ago where a child was dragged by a white Siberian tiger. Of course, Nick makes it seem like lions and tigers are roaming the streets like cows in India. And he doesn't have to list all the recent incidents because, well, that would counter his argument too much.

We can accept that we live in a state where there is a small risk of confrontation with black bears, gray wolves and mountain lions (that last species is making a comeback and has a taste for joggers, which helps motivate them).

*rim shot* *uncomfortable cough from the back* *crickets chirping*

Oh, and by the way, Nick, are the mountain lions motivated, or the joggers? Never fucking mind.

But all of these animals were in Minnesota before we were. Whether you want to hug them or make rugs out of them, you have to admit: They make an honest living.

You couldn't hear it, but trust me, I just groaned out loud. Although, I did just remember the Loony Toons bit with Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog, punching their time cards, which made me grin.

Back yard maneaters from other continents have no excuse. These maneaters (more accurately, kid-eaters) are a menace. Their "owners" (can anyone "own" a tiger?) are morons. But the state is worse.

Minnesota is a mouse.

Nick's right. This state has become a haven for exotic animals that prey daily on the luscious entrails of Minnesota youth. We need an exotic animal control task force, not unlike the Bear Patrol episode of "The Simpsons." "We're here! We're queer! We don't want any more bears!" What does it tell you about Nick Coleman logic that his columns can be boiled down to episodes of Loony Toons and "The Simpsons?"

Like many folks, I had thought that the Legislature had taken care of the tiger threat by banning the ownership of all exotic animals down the throats of which heads can disappear. But I put too much trust in politicians, many of whom might drag you into a cage and gnaw on your femur themselves, if they could get away with it.

One can almost imagine the heated debate in the Minnesota State Legislature regarding exotic animal ownership. It has to be item #3 on the list of pressing state business, right below "IMPORTANT SHIT THAT MATTERS" but above "INSIGNIFICANT SHIT THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN ALL THAT OFTEN."

Here's all the Legislature did: They stopped more morons from chaining dangerous beasts in their back yards. But they didn't do anything about the deluded and already existing morons who believe that putting lions and tigers and bears in their yard makes it Oz.

Yeah, a grandfather clause can be a bitch like that.

Those morons got grandfathered in: All they have to do is register their killers, reduce the ambient odor of moldy meat stuck between giant teeth, and keep the neighborhood kids from disappearing.

The requirement about disappearing children is #8 on the registration list, by the way. The actual wording reads: "The undersigned agrees to keep his/her "insert animal species here" from feasting on neighborhood children, including, but not limited to, children visiting from other neighborhoods."

Nicole Scherzinger. Nicole Scherzinger. Nicole Scherzinger. Nicole Scherzinger. Nicole Scherzinger.

One wonders what Nick thinks about, say, Dobermans, or Rottweilers or German Shepherds or Pit Bulls, all of which can be lethal pets to children, if not properly trained and supervised.

They're not even doing that much.

Many have ignored the deadline for registering their dangerous darlings. As a result, no one knows how many are out there.

Again, Nick, do you have anything to back up that claim? Not even a Google search? Nothing? Just good, old-fashioned "Nick-Coleman-Knows-Stuff" wisdom, eh? Pardon me if I'm a bit un-convinced then, mmmkay?

All we know is that many a lion has come to light only when it is seen loping across Otter Tail County with a Cub Scout in its mouth.

Holy Unrestrained Hyperbole, Batman!! To hear Nick tell it, you'd think we Minnesotans are living on the fucking Serengeti.

There is an easy way to end this menace. All we have to do is make the ownership of dangerous animals illegal.

Period. End of story.

End of mauled children.

Except for the occasional attack by, say, Dobermans, or Rottweilers or German Shepherds or Pit Bulls, all of which can be lethal pets to children, if not properly trained and supervised, but I repeat myself.

Yes, I know: When lions are outlawed, only outlaws will have lions. But that's all right.

You!! Nick Coleman!! Stop stealing my material!! fucking thief.

We have a lot of really well-built cages for outlaws.

Few ever escape.

Nothing wraps up yet another crappy Nick Coleman column better than a terrible conclusion.

The real irritating thing? Coleman probably gets paid over $50k a year to write moronic drivel like this. It's enough to make me cry.