Like any red-blooded American male, I love cheerleaders. It's not crazy or creepy — I don't force girlfriends to put on cheerleading outfits or anything (although now that I think about it…) — it's merely a basic function of the straight male mind. So, when you laugh at this video of cheerleaders getting fucking rocked — and you WILL laugh — please remember that they're real people, and in most cases young and sexy. And sexy people getting hurt is our nation's greatest tragedy.

I don't pretend to understand college football or the South, so the combination of those things that makes the SEC is particularly incomprehensible to me. But apparently the mascots attack opponents on the sidelines:

Smokey IX, Tennessee's bluetick coonhound mascot, has been accused of biting an Alabama player before last week's game at Neyland Stadium.

There are all sorts of extenuating circumstances, like the wide receiver fell on the dog while going out of bounds trying to catch a pass, but let's focus on the important issues here: "bluetick coonhound" is an actual breed? I mean, I'm a purebred poonhound, but coonhound? I didn't realize Southerners would embrace a mascot that kind of reinforces the redneck stereotype. Oh wait, I forgot about T-Rac.

Anyway, if the Titans and Vols are any example — and when is Tennessee NOT an example to the rest of the country? — it's now cool for mascots to attack players. So the smart thing for owners to do is re-name their franchises to something especially terrifying, like the Gun-Toting Jaded Suburban Teenagers. Or Joey Porter's Dogs. Or the Flying Sharks.

Man, is there anything scarier than flying sharks? You just aren't safe anywhere. They're nature's greatest predator.

The guy in the picture there is Dave Karaff, a 64-year-old grandfather who used to be a scout for the St. Louis Cardinals, until they fired him in 2003. And good thing, too: all that useless old fart did was sign Albert Pujols. Now he stocks shelves at a Wal-Mart in Arkansas.

And Pujols is still pissed at him. Even though Karaff thought Pujols was talented and got the Cards to draft him, Karaff apparently didn't give Prince Albert the requisite blowjob.

The slugger, for instance, told The Kansas City Star: "He said I wasn't going to make the big leagues. That's why he got fired."

He told USA Today: "How can you draft a guy and say you don't know if he's going to make the big leagues? All of a sudden, the next year (I'm) in the big leagues, and he wants to take all the credit."

So, even though Pujols is a famous multimillionaire and the most feared hitter in baseball, the guy that really pisses him off is the one that gave him his start, then lost his job and now works at a Wal-Mart. Makes sense.

Albert's going to spend his off-season lifting weights, working on his swing, and burning down this little bitch's house. That should teach him some respect.

Three saucy little minxes high school cheerleaders in Colorado were handcuffed and led away by security guards for their involvement in a prank.

The three allegedly put paper over a portion of a sign in front of Douglass Valley Elementary School, leaving it to read "ass Valley Elementary School," said school spokeswoman Nanette Anderson.

Ah, Ass Valley. What I wouldn't give to live there. The property values are just too high, though.

Oh, and the headline from the Denver Post article? High school cheerleaders handcuffed. Which is a crazy coincidence, because I just had that dream last night. Or is it not a coincidence if I have that dream every night? I'll need a ruling from the Sexy Coincidence Committee.

(Credit goes to Peter Schrager for finding the story.) 

The Suns' Raja Bell is now writing a column/ diary/ blog for ESPN.com, and it is beyond amazing. Every paragraph is gold. An example from his recent trip to Vegas for a preseason game against the Lakers:

I won some money playing craps, which is always nice. What wasn't so nice: Boris, LB, Pat Burke, a couple others and myself were turned away from the club at Caesar's Palace. The culprit: My Chuck Taylor sneaks. Can you believe that? NBA players getting turned away by a bouncer? Vegas doesn't mess around with their attire rules. Whatever. It was a one-day trip, so I brought what I was wearing. And no, I'm not the guy who comes to the Vegas bacherlor party with jeans and sneaks and screws up everyone's plans. I take my bachelor parties very seriously.

On new sponsorship opportunities:

Taco Bell is a sponsor for the Suns, and I guess "Bell and Bell" made sense to someone, because I'm now neck deep in The Bell. This weekend, I went in to meet-and-greet some Bell honchos and to talk about some charitable endeavors. They also gave me a card with my name and photo on it, which basically means I can dine at any Taco Bell whenever and with whoever I want, all courtesy of The Bell. Good stuff, that Bell.

Now that's a sweet deal. I'm a recovering Taco Bell addict, but give me an unlimited meals card and I'd relapse immediately. I love the Double Decker Taco Supreme. And I guess they've got something that's "smunchy" now. I never catch what those commercials are advertising; I just want to lie in bed with that funny girl on a Sunday morning and laugh while we do the crossword.

UPDATE: TrueHoop and I are on the same wavelength here. About Raja Bell, that is. I don't know his feelings on Taco Bell.

And now for the Hollywood Minute: Let's look at a couple items of note from my movie-centric friends at Film Wad, a site where I'd spend all day watching trailers if I weren't so busy cruising the sports blogosphere.

First, Thomas Carter has signed on to direct an as-yet untitled film about Jackie Robinson that will star Robert Redford as Branch Rickey and an actor (probably black) to be named later as Robinson. You may remember Carter from Coach Carter, but more than likely you don't. I prefer to remember him for Swing Kids (which I successfully avoided watching) and the postmodern love story Save the Last Dance. That was where Julia Stiles was a ballet dancer, but living in the 'hood gave her rhythm.

The other bit of news is that Anthony Mackie — best known for playing "Papa Doc" in 8 Mile — will play Jesse Owens in a biopic that begins shooting next summer. I guess the director felt bad about the way he got laughed off the stage when Eminem called him Clarence, because now he's going to win four gold medals at the '36 Berlin Games. In your face, Hitler!

What's tougher? Being a white guy rap-battling in the Detroit 'hood, or being a black athlete in a stadium full of Nazis? Or being as handsome as I am and dealing with jealousy of ugly people every day? I'm like the Jesse Owens/Jackie Robinson of blogging. No attractive person has ever done this before.