At Wrestlemania XXIV last night, that boxer jackass beat the big fucker and some old guy retired, but the real story is the pyrotechnic malfunction that left dozens in the stands injured. A suspended cable used for launching fireworks above the crowd snapped, showering the crowd of easily amused simpletons with sparks and rockets.
"The smoke was coming out and it looked like a war zone," crowd member Bryan Bindman said.
"Scene Looks Like War Zone, Says Man Who's Never Been to War Zone"
"We were right under the rafters near the suites and it came right across our section — maybe 20 feet ahead of us," fan Bill Kallus said. "We were thinking, 'Is this part of the show or is this an accident?'"
I take back everything bad I've ever said about WWE. The Citrus Bowl could have been partially blown up by terrorists or fallen apart after an 8.0 earthquake, and the fans would be like, "Hold on, this is probably just part of the show."
[Special thanks to KSK]
Former Patriots and Redskins lineman Kenyatta Jones (Kenya + regatta + parental drug use = Kenyatta) was arrested this weekend when he tried to urinate on the dance floor of a night club. TMZ writes:
[Jones], who has now been relegated to the Arena Football League, was busted after cops say he tried to urinate on the dance floor at some place called The Blue Martini in Tampa, Fla. Toot toot! [Ed. note: "Toot toot"? WTF does that mean?]
As security and off-duty cops tried to escort Jones out of the club, he tried to get back inside and shoved an officer up against a door. That's when they tazed him and hauled him off to the pokey!
I'm not a policeman or anything — I just play one in adult films — but I'd think that if a guy really wants to pee in public, tazing him probably isn't the best way to prevent that outcome.
If you don't count the games in Japan and last night's Braves-Nats game, today is Opening Day for Major League Baseball. Fittingly, there's an assload of baseball stories fluttering about. Let's take a look.
"I see people leaving to get hot dogs!" she admonishes them. "You want to keep them in the stands! Do you want to lose out to a hot dog?"
"Can they bring me one?" asks Steve Bauer, a 280-pound food service vendor, drawing high fives from the other Manatees. [Because they're fat! Get it? - Ed.]
Here's Thunderbug — mascot of the Tampa Bay Lightning — capering about and engaging in various hijinks with young'uns at the beach. And if Thunderbug didn't have a big inflatable insect costume on, you could bet he'd be getting his ass kicked six ways from Sunday. I guess you can do anything you want if you're wearing dressed as a mascot.
Well, almost anything. Turns out renting the San Diego Chicken costume isn't enough to get you backstage at The Jewel Box. But it was worth a try.
Middling tennis star Andy Roddick has finally proven that he leaves his underachieving on the court: he is now engaged to Sports Illustrated swimsuit model Brooklyn Decker.
The tennis star is officially off the market after popping the question to Decker last Tuesday, sources, including Decker's rep, confirm to PEOPLE.
The pair, who have been dating since 2007, first met after Roddick, 25, asked his agent to track down a number for Decker, 20, a model who has appeared in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition.
Ah, young love. "Kids, let me tell you about the time I met your mother. My pro career was in the shitcan and fading quickly. While searching fruitlessly for my name on SI.com, I saw a chick in a bikini I wanted to fuck, so I had my agent track her down. Voila, lifetime of sticking it anywhere I want to in this. I rule!"
Don't know who Max Mosley is? Let me get you caught up: he's the head of Formula One racing whose father was a noted Nazi sympathizer during World War II. Max enjoyed a nice little five-hour S&M orgy with five hookers, which actually sounds like a lot of fun, if a little heavy on torture/foreplay. The part that was maybe a little unwise was MAKING A TAPE OF THE ENTIRE THING. After shelling out $5000, Mosley stood a concentration camp-style inspection. Fail a hooker's inspection? Ohhh, that's a paddlin':
Mosley was then bent over and strapped naked to a leather torture bench. The muscular blonde dealt him 15 savage blows. Towards the end Mosley was whimpering and gasped for breath. Reddened and bruised, he then received a further six strokes with a cane.
His flogging over, he left the room before saying, "Thank you, mistress". After having his wounds dressed, Mosley makes the transformation from masochist to sadist. Now fully clothed, he bends two blonde girls over the whipping bench, their striped concentration camp-style uniform bottoms yanked down to expose their buttocks.[...]
At one point the wrinkled 67-year-old… yells "she needs more of ze punishment!" while brandishing a LEATHER STRAP over a brunette's naked bottom… With each blow, the girl yelps in pain as grinning, grey-haired Mosley becomes clearly aroused. And after the beating, he makes her perform a sex act on him.
You know, you hear too many stories of people just getting a hooker, having plain ol' sex, and going about their day. I like Mosley's style. If you're gonna pay for it, hey, live a little. Splurge on those Nazi hookers. It may seem pricey, but they're gonna give you a really efficient orgy.
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