Why They Invented the Internet #4

So that some day I could get home at 9:30 pm from a meeting and have my wife say, "you probably already saw this, but..." And then proceed to show me these slices of awesome:



and



I have no idea where they came from or what they are, but they are fantastic. Also fitting that my wife was referred to them by a lady at work whose daughter likes them. Her middle school aged daughter.

I thought these things only came in 3's?

First it was Ed McMahon. Pretty sad, but he was 86 and in failing health.

Then it was Farrah Fawcett. Again, sad, but she'd been fighting cancer for some time.

Then it was Michael Jackson. Sad, I guess, but hasn't he really been dead for about 20 years now?

But the kicker, the WTF moment of "celebrity" deaths was the one that occurred over the weekend.

Billy Mays?? Huh? How is that possible?

It's amazing what TV you can get into when you are sitting up late either with an infant or awaiting the infant's eventual late-night wake-up. I became a rather fond follower of the TLC show "Pitchmen" thanks to our 14-week old.

He worked hard to get from the Pittsburgh area to the Boardwalk in AC to the mansion seen on Pitchmen.

And now? Gone.

I have to say, of the "celebrity" deaths in the last week, the death of Billy Mays actually hit the hardest.

RIP Pitchman.

A New Year, An Old Jewbacca

[RANT]

I am constantly annoyed by things in this world. At least eight times every trip to work in the morning and probably close to double that on the way home I feel the urge to kill rising in my gut.

What troubles me so? The lack of awareness and respect that seems to pervade every part of society.

And this morning, I saw in living color on my very own television something that drove that point home. It was a show called "Parking Wars." It was (is?) filmed in my fair city and follows the employees of the PPA (Philadelphia Parking Authority) on their appointed rounds.

Having been the victim of their ticketing on several occasions I am familiar with their special brand of handcrafted day-ruining (though there was a time when it was cheaper to let your meter expire and get the ticket than it was to park in a garage). But I also know that if I let my meter expire I am going to get a ticket. Same if I double park, park in front of a hydrant, or park in a handicap spot. I accept the fact that there are rules for a reason and that there are people who's job it is is to enforce those rules. Heck, I WROTE parking tickets in college.

This morning I was watching this show over breakfast and was regaled with the tale of the young woman whose friend double parked, blocking a lane of travel in Center City Philadelphia. Simple, no? Double park, block morning traffic, get a ticket, grin sheepishly, pay the fine, move on....right?

Wrong. Accost the ticket writer, scream about the unfairness of it all, use the "2 seconds" argument, use the "my friend is from New York and didn't know better" argument, rally the passers-by, accuse the ticket writer of malfeasance, scream into the camera about how unfair it all is well after the ticket is given. That's how she chose to handle it.

Why does this person not see what they did is wrong? Ignorance and nil respect for the people around her, that's why. And in a nutshell, everything that is wrong in the world today..

Interestingly enough, when I opened the paper at lunch today (yes, opened the paper...the actual paper...delivered to my home every morning) and turned to the "Style and Soul" section to read the comics (a daily tradition since 1982) these two articles greeted me:

Double-Parking? Age Cheating? Who Cares?

which was directly below, in the print edition this gem:

A Flash of Celebrity

The latter article is about a company you can hire to send out three idiots with cameras to follow you around for three hours, at $1000 a pop, to make people think you're famous. $1000. For. Your. Own. Paparazzi. The very thing actual famous people want outlawed. You can hire them. To follow you around. I...

And the former article is an interesting essay into why people cut corners and break small laws. In short, why people are ignorant and have no respect for their fellow humans.

Probably because they are too busy hiring their own paparazzi. And it only hurt my heart and brain all the more when I read that the paparazzi company got its start following around U of D students while they were bar hopping. I don't mind U of D students bar hopping (have you ever been to Newark?), but I feel a stabbing pain in my alumni pride when I find out they gave credence to this d-bag idea.

So, in the space of roughly 5 hours I got to see, crystallized in front of me once on a flat screen and once in a "dying" medium, why this world is F'd up. And why its important for me to raise my soon-to-be-here child with the following simple credo:

Do the Right Thing.

If everyone did the right thing, I would not spend a good portion of my day in a blind rage planning a kill-crazy rampage. And there would be less ignorance and more awareness and a lot more respect.

[/RANT]

Something to Watch While You Wait For Wednesday Night

Since I'm in a pretty black mood today anyway thanks to Bud Selig and his idiocy, AND we have to wait until at least Wednesday (baseball in 32 degree weather with 20 MPH winds!!) to watch the rest of Game 5, here is a brief diversion for your enjoyment.

Anyone that knows me knows that I dislike a lot of things. The list is too long to mention and grows every single day.

At the top of that list?

Sideline Reporters.

Ken Rosenthal and his awfulness come to mind immediately. I've never heard anyone that talked any slower and more dramatically about every....single....thing that popped into his mind. I pray for Ryan Howard to literally take a bite out of his head during their post game interviews

Why do they exist? Why do they waste my time with ridiculous "insights" and views on the game I'm watching. Especially really obvious ones like, "I talked to Coach X and he feels that his team needs to perform better in the second half. I talked to Coach Y and he feels that his team performed well in the first half and needs to keep their intensity up for the second half."

No f'in crap.

Here is a clip, from one of my favorites, With Leather, that shows exactly how useless, pointless and mind numbingly stupid sideline reporters are:



Seriously? You could have fact checked that in about a millisecond, seeing how Bill Walsh is dead and all.

A Brief Review of Game 5 So Far...

We here in Philly have been waiting 25 years for a national championship of some importance (sorry Wings, Phantoms, Kixx and Soul), a championship that would kick off a celebration of epic proportions and a parade to be remembered for the ages.

And the fact that the local NBA team won the last championship in this city means that for some of us we've been waiting at least 28 years. I don't count the NBA as a sport, so that 1983 championship actually ranks lower than any of the recent ones won by the Wings, Phantoms, Kixx and/or Soul.

So how are we repaid by the baseball gods?



With this moron and his merry band of idiots in blue.

I understand the suspension of the game. I truly do. I don't argue with it. And had the Phillies still been up on the Rays and Selig decided to suspend the game at the start of the 6th, and NOT declare it a Phillies' win even though it was technically an official game, I would have been fine with that. A World Series should not be decided in a rain-shortened game.

But to make either team take the field or come up to bat in the sixth inning? One of the worst overall decisions I have ever, EVER seen.

Way to go Bud. You knew it was going to rain all night and you still let this game be played. You didn't stop it when the rains became torrential. You are an idiot.

So now instead of being a man, standing up to Fox and calling off the game before it started you've potentially ruined a World Series for the fans. And not just Phillies fans. All baseball fans.

As Sweaty (who is probably still too angry to see straight) commented to me earlier in an email: "This is exactly how I envisioned a World Championship moment going."

I hope Bud is thinking to himself right now that this situation is SO much better than just playing a postponed-from-the-start Game 5 on Wednesday or Thursday.

A Question to Our Readership

Can someone please explain to me why FOX had no less than 10 cutaways to Maddon in the dugout during the 9th? Sweaty and I had 1210 on to avoid being infected with Tampa Fever by having unprotected aural with Joe Buck so we had no idea why they felt the need to show the manager of the Rays at least 10 times. In a half inning.

A Review of Game Two in One Word

Pathetic.

Know Thine Enemy...And Mock Him

Say what you want about Phillies fans and the City of Brotherly Love, but here are two things this town would never, ever, EVER do:

1. Print a "Baseball Primer" on the local news website. Seriously. Check it out. It contains such highlights as:

DOUBLE PLAY: A routine but difficult play in which the defense gets two outs with one pitch.

AND

UP THE MIDDLE: A ball hit back past the pitcher, over second base and into center field.

This is the fan base of the media darlings? Isn't baseball supposed to be our official past time here in America? Did a large contingent of Lost Tribes of the Amazon choose Tampa for their annual convention?

No wonder they bring cowbells and have blue mohawks. I can't take looking at these misfits any more, and it's been one game!

2. This:

As [Lidge] warmed up before the bottom of the ninth, the scoreboard showed a montage of film clips to rile up the fans. It ended with a snippet of Sylvester Stallone in a sweat suit, thrusting his arms to the sky at the top of the art museum steps in Philadelphia.

If the Phillies needed another positive omen — as if surviving 13 hitless at-bats with runners in scoring position were not enough — there it was. Lidge retired the side in order to end the game.

Sweet Mary on a pogo stick. Game one of the World Series was played in Tampa. In that abortion of a stadium. Against the PHILADELPHIA Phillies. And they used a clip...from Rocky...showing Stallone at the top of the steps...to fire up...the....RAYS?

There are no words.

[Tip of the Hat to The 700 Level, Philly's finest sports blog]

Are YOU a Real American?

I came home this evening to find out from Mrs. Jewbacca that we are NOT real Americans.

See, we are registered Independents since neither of us identify enough with either party to say we're a "D" or an "R." Couple that with the fact that we tend to lean toward the Democratic side of things AND the fact that in most peoples' minds Democrat=Liberal and you get this from CNN.com:

A North Carolina congressman locked in a tight re-election race admitted Tuesday to recently telling a crowd of John McCain supporters that "liberals hate real Americans," the latest in a string of comments from Republicans that appear to question Democrats' patriotism.

Ergo, we are not real Americans. There is no hope for us.

I guess our home ownership, our taxpaying history, the fact that we both work very hard at our jobs (another jab at "liberals" is that they don't have jobs where they have to work hard), our service to our community, our charitable donations and our American flag constantly waving from our front porch is not enough for some people. Oh well.

But here as a Friendly Friend public service is a quick quiz you can take to determine if you are a REAL American:



So how'd you all score? Any sudden ex-pats out there who want to gather in the local ex-American bar and watch the Phillies?

Did the Focus Groups Know Major Tom Dies in His "Tin Can?"

As much as I enjoy David Bowie, Cat Power and Lincolns (well, five dollar bills and Abe I guess) this latest entry in the "WTF Were the Ad People Thinking" files is brought to you by Mr. Bowie, Ms. Power and the fine people at Lincoln's ad house:



Seriously? You want me to equate your gas guzzling SUV with an ill-fated space flight in a capsule likened to a tin can that, oh yeah did I mention, ends up being the eternal resting place of one Major Tom?

I've said it before and I'm sure I'll be saying it again...and again...and again, I hate this stuff.

This is Cat Power/Chan Marshall. She is nice to look at and has a very nice voice. I don't blame her for this stupid ad.

From the Immature Humor Files Of FFJewbacca

I tell people sometimes that inside my head I stopped aging, and therefore maturing, around the age of 13.

Here's photographic proof of this phenomenon:



That's right. Mrs. Jewbacca's brother responding to my remark that someone should pinch that building.

Mystery Solved...

I know that the tens of avid readers of The Friendly Friends have been clamoring for news about the whereabouts of our very own Shamalama. It's been more than a long time since we've heard from him and I know that many of you have suffered more than one sleepless night pondering this very question.

Well, wonder no more.

I spent the holiday weekend camping at an amusement park in the middle part of our fine Commonwealth and have pictorial evidence of where Mr. Shamalama has been spending his time:



That's right. He apparently is trying out material for his one man show, brilliantly titled "Shamalama" in front of sparse crowds at Knoebel's Groves outside of Elysburg, Pa. Talk about off-Broadway.

And just look at the company he's keeping:



No wonder we haven't heard from him. Quite the big-timer, huh?

Sweaty Irishman Thoughts

Phutile to be a Philadelphia Phan?

As you all know by now, The Friendly Friends are based out of the Delaware Valley. Making most of us loyal Philadelphia Sports Fans. We each have our favorites of course. I am an Eagles/Phillies guy with a strong interest in the Flyers and a very minimal interest in the Sixers. I think it would be safe to categorize Jewbacca as a Flyers Fan First & Foremost (That was a lot of non-obscene F words), then Eagles/Phillies and maybe even less then minimal interest in the Sixers. FFMatt, I would say is an equal opportunity fan for the Flyers/Eagles with the Phillies bringing up the rear, and again…Sixers are lame. If we get into Pissah and his new favorite Boston Teams or Shamalama and his bizarre mix of Chicago and D.C. sports teams we could be here all day.
Another interesting, well-known and tragic fact is, The Friendly Friends have grown up not knowing what it feels like to win a championship. Yes, we were all alive when the Phillies won it in 80. None of us were old enough to appreciate or care at the time. The Eagles have never won a Super Bowl. The last time the Flyers won the Stanley Cup it was socially acceptable that FFMatt and I were taking baths together and Jewbacca was still cultivating his Brillo hair and eating kosher baby food while watching episodes of Captain Noah and Al Albert’s Showcase.

Anyone else ever wonder about him and Larry Ferrari?

The Sixers were actually the last Philadelphia team to win a championship in 1983 and as stated earlier…who cares. We hadn’t even hit puberty yet anyway!
That finally brings me to the point of this post. We have all been waiting 25 years, basically our entire sports conscious lives to experience a championship…and we are still waiting. The Friendly Friends lives have been filled with occasional excruciatingly close near misses in this regard, but more often than not it was another regular season, followed by quick exit from the playoffs or no playoffs at all. We have had obstacles of all kinds in each sport. Some people call it the curse of William Penn, or if you are Mike Turico, the curse of Ben Franklin.

Who knew a Quaker would be so spiteful!

Ever since Philadelphia erected buildings taller than the brim of Billy Penn’s cap on top of City Hall in 1984 this city has gone winless. Poppycock I say! I don’t believe in that rubbish. I do believe we have had some pretty bad owners, coaches and players in the past 25 years though! But I also think we have had our share of bad luck and bizarre experiences.
We have learned so many things as Philadelphia sports fans. In 1993, the Phillies, and Jewbacca’s little brother, taught us that Joe Carter was one of the best power hitters of our time.

I will get yelled at for even putting this image on here.

In 1987 the Flyers taught us that the only thing that could stop them from winning the Stanley Cup is if they had to face perhaps the greatest professional sports team ever assembled.

I smashed my potato clock I was so upset.

Thank you Edmonton Oilers including, but not limited to…Wayne Gretzky, Mark Messier, Paul Coffey, Jari Kurri, Grant Fuhr, and Essa Tikkanen. The Flyers also taught us in 1997 that even the best team in Hockey can be swept in the Finals. In 2000 they were nice enough to teach us that a team up 3-1 in the Eastern Conference Finals can still lose, despite getting back their best player after gaining that 3-1 lead. We also learned a lot about concussions that year. The Philadelphia Eagles taught us in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s that the only way a team that’s defense that included Reggie White, Jerome Brown, Seth Joyner, Eric Allen and Wes Hopkins would not win a Super Bowl is if you had a coaching staff who put as much work into offensive game plans as I put into auto repair. They also taught us in 2004 that we would win our first Super Bowl…as long as our Quarterback didn’t vomit in the huddle and as long as our Coach included a 2-minute drill in the game plan.
We have had many other bizarre occurrences that have impeded our road to a championship in our lifetime. Horrible Aprils for the Phillies, an alien like Fog rolling in at Soldiers Field in Chicago,

This was like Scooby Doo fog.

and perhaps most of all, and the inspiration for this entry…injuries. I know players don’t use them as excuses (much) and I try not to as well, but I am getting fed up. Anyone in Philly not familiar with Torn rotator cuffs, Tommy John surgeries, Lisfranc injuries, sports hernias, concussions (Lindros), concussions (Primeau), concussions (Gagne)…and now…Blood Clot? A friggin blood clot? What? I am driving home from my last final of the semester last night…thinking about the upcoming summer, and also thinking about the excitement brewing in town. Our Flyers have made a remarkable run in the playoffs and are 4 wins away from another appearance in the Stanley Cup Finals! It has been unexpected, and that may be why it is all that more enjoyable. All that stands in our way is a hated Pittsburgh Penguin team loaded with fast young talent with names like Crosby, Hossa and Malkin. Not to worry though…the Flyers secret weapon…the man who has managed to keep in check the likes of Ovechkin and Koivu will be up to the task. Kimmo Timonen, the best Flyers defensemen in years and an All-Star has had as much to do with our success in the playoffs as anyone except maybe Martin Biron. He will make the difference! The only we can’t win this series is if he come down with some strange injury…like a blood clot!

Is this the new "water on the knee"?

The series starts tonight, without Timonen. I will root hard and I still think they have a chance, but once again The Friendly Friends have to get out their Medical Dictionaries and learn the name that may be given for the 26th year without a championship. Blood Clot. The official new mascot of Philadelphia…Buddy the Blood Clot.

My only weakness is Hemophilia

3:15, Official WTF Time for May 2, 2008... 2 Way TIE!!!

1. I'm sitting in the Hershey Grill on break from attending a conference and the 3 women across from me couldn't spell "Reese's" for a word puzzle for the adorable 1 year old with them. Yes, word puzzle for a one year old.

After debating for 7 minutes on how it may be spelled they gave up. The collective sigh of relief in the area may have felt like air conditioning to their primordial nut brains.

2. All day at the conference I have been talked at by a security guard who seems to be a white supremacist, who mistakes my job (talking with people) as affirmation of his weakly veiled intense dislike of blacks and liberals. He just walked by and waved vigorously as I eat.

The problem with Earth is it’s filled with people.

Bacon: It's What's For Dessert

A lightning bolt should have hit me.

Not only was I, Jewbacca, searching for my Easter basket, but I was about to run into the least kosher Easter treat ever invented.

Mrs. Jewbacca went above and beyond this year. Hidden amongst the Whoppers and Peanut Butter Cups and Reese's Pieces was this beauty:



That's right. A dark chocolate pig with "applewood smoked bacon" and "alder wood smoked salt."



Bacon is possibly my favorite food, and I love dark chocolate as well, so this little pig was right in my proverbial wheelhouse. But the overall feeling as I read more of the packaging was fear.



I'm used to the Easter basket basics. Cadbury chocolate eggs, the can of macadamia nuts, the various Reese's products, the speckled eggs -- they're all expected and enjoyed.

Did this thing, this dark chocolate pig, really have bacon inside?



Apparently it did.

How bad could a piece of dark chocolate with bacon inside of it be? Or better yet: How good could it be? And would it be one small slice? A couple of miniature strips? Would I take a bite and be instantly hooked?



The answers? Ok, no slices but plenty of bacon bits, and fortunately no.

It tasted more like salty chocolate than chocolate-covered bacon. The taste was reminiscent of a chocolate-covered potato chip, which incidentally are excellent. There really wasn't any bacon flavor involved. Even the aftertaste was lacking that smoky bite provided by your finer bacon. There really wasn't any point to using applewood smoked bacon since there really wasn't any bacon taste to be found.

The chocolate itself was excellent. The combination of the chocolate and the salt was nice as well. But there was a pronounced lack of actual bacon taste.

I would love to offer you a second opinion, but Mrs. Jewbacca refused the piece offered to her. Repeatedly.

So, Friendly Friends, you'd be better served to get a hunk of dark chocolate with a small dash of salt on it. Or to dip a crispy, salty, perfectly smoked, lovely, delicious slice of bacon into a dark chocolate fondue.

I'll continue to enjoy my bacon crispy along side my eggs or as the leadoff letter of a BLT or crumbled onto my granola every morning. But at least I can say I tried chocolate-covered bacon.

I'll also let you know if my stomach rebels in a horrible, horrible way.

WTF: Advertising Edition

Friendly Friends, if there is one thing that makes me scratch my jewfro and launch into a grand mal rantin' and ravin' session, it's when Madison Avenue uses an inappropriate song for a commercial.

None of these are new by the by. But they stick in my craw something fierce.

First and foremost is the use of this classic:



To advertise a cruise line. A cruise line.

Let that sink in.

This cruise line shows happy families taking advantage of all of the family amenities these floating petri dishes offer. And playing under the shots of the happy family is Mr. Pop's snarling.

So how do the lyrics:
Here comes Johnny Yen again/with the liquor and drugs/and a flesh machine/he's gonna do another strip tease...

(plus the other ones about having it in his ear before, beating his brains with the aforesaid liquor and drugs and of course the torture film)

sell a family cruise line?

Easy! Apparently in the cruise company commercial Johnny Yen just shows up with a Lust for Life. No mention of hypnotizing chickens or his GTO or any controlled substances. Just Johnny and his Lust for Life.

Second on my list is the thankfully abandoned Wrangler campaign that showed just how red and white and blue Wranglers are. Why they're more American than Mom and apple pie.

Know how I know that?

Because a bunch of idiots playing flag football (or fishing, I can't remember) with this song playing in the background told me so:


So when the lyrics proclaim:
Some folks are born made to wave the flag /ooh, they're red, white and blue./ And when the band plays "Hail To The Chief"/oh, they point the cannon at you, Lord/ It ain't me, it ain't me/I ain't no senator's son/It ain't me, it ain't me/ I ain't no fortunate one, no...

how did Wrangler convince us all that they are uber-American and basically the bomb?

Well by cutting off the words after "Some folks are made to wave the flag/ooh the red white and blue" that's how.

Turns a protest song into a rallying cry for patriotic idiots to buy Wranglers right quick, don't it?

I hate this stuff.

It's bad enough to hear classic songs being used to shill for mega-corporations, but at least they could use a more appropriate song. I guess it's easier to just assume that we're all idiots and that we believe that Iggy Freaking Pop was thinking about taking his family on a cruise when he penned his anthem of hard living in the late 70's. And John Fogerty reeeeaaaalllyyy hoped that his protest of the preferential treatment of the well connected during the Vietnam War would sell dungarees.

WTF: Fantasy Sports Edition

ITEM: Me and Sweaty are playing for the championship of our Yahoo! Fantasy League. My Billy Ray Valentine squad is 10-3. Sweaty's Sweaty Irishman squad is a torrid 7-6.

WTF? I started Willie F'in Parker against the St. Louis D over Clinton Portis against the Minnesota D. Sweaty has LT and Brady. I am the champion of the world second place team in an 8 team league.

I don't care if Mrs. Jewbacca is a die hard Stiller fan, I HATE WILLIE F'IN PARKER!

[UPDATE: Sweaty did indeed beat me for the champeenship of our Yahoo! League. I left enough points on the bench to win. That's what stings the most.]

WTF: Religion Edition

Good morning Friendly Friends. I've made a few observations, just this morning, that truly made me say, WTF?

ITEM: The Vatican is wasting its time publishing editorials against The Golden Compass, calling it "devoid of any particular emotion apart from a great chill." And I know someone whose kids received missives from their Catholic school telling parents to boycott and avoid this film like a Biblical plague.

WTF? I thought the Bible had a lot of that "turn the other cheek" and "live and let live" stuff in it. If people are true believers can't they decide for themselves without help from Rome? I think my mother-in-law would sum it up most succinctly: "Let go, Let God."

ITEM: Apparently, since the Bible verse Isaiah 35:8 states: "And a highway will be there; it will be called the Way of Holiness, there's a nationwide movement afoot to God up the country, using I-35 as a homebase:

Lujan conducted a five-week 24-hour prayer vigil and organized what he called a "purity siege" along Austin's famed Sixth Street. The sieges are part of the I-35 project, a nationwide movement to save those at bars, gay clubs and abortion clinics in cities along the interstate.

"If you just draw a line right down the middle of the nation, and go to these strategic cities along the way and just cry out holiness and purity, we believe there's going to be a referendum, a change, a radical change in our nation," Lujan said.

WTF? Seriously? Does Isaiah 76:East state "and yea, verily, thy shall not arrivest in thy workplace until well nigh after 9 am"? Can't these people find a Vrigin Mary corn chip to worship?

ITEM: This morning, and a few other times over the past weeks, I saw a new Caddy in front of me with a very interesting VANITY license plate. It reads:

SIN FREE

WTF? Isn't PRIDE one of the Seven Deadly Sins? And wouldn't a VANITY license plate BRAGGING about being "Sin Free" be a sin in and of itself?

I'm open to discussion.

Thanks to the always delicious Fark.com for the links.

Darren Daulton is Bat-Poop Crazy

Darren in better days with that hippie chick from Just Shoot Me

Wow. That's all I can say. Dutch, one of the spark plugs that helped the Phightin's to the 1993 NL Pennant is absolutely crazy.

Or so brilliant that he will be the only one saved on December 24, 2012....

Gecko: "Dutch recently told me, 'Humankind is simply materialized color operating on the 49th vibration. You would make that conclusion walking down the street or going to the store...' so yeah, he's nuts."

Check out today's Deadspin and be sure to click on the link to the audio from this interview.

I, for one, welcome our Dutch Daulton overlord.

Dutch's first wife. The original "Hooters Girl", Lynne Austin. She has nothing to do with this post. I just liked watching her advertisment on the rightfield wall at Jack Russell Stadium in my youth.

And here is more on the back story of this latest offering from Mr. Time Traveller himself.

No, no, no... DAULTON.

Dear Unnamed Deity in Heaven,

Please, oh please, oh pretty please let this be a joke:

Thomas Martel, 28, of Bonnie Brae is a big guy. So he has a hard time using the features on ever-shrinking user interfaces on devices like his new iPhone. At least, he did, until he had his thumbs surgically altered in a revolutionary new surgical technique known as "whittling."

This has got be a joke right? From The Onion perhaps?

Well, it ain't from The Onion, but from here.

Sweaty, as our Colorado Correspondent, please check with Mrs. Sweaty to see if she can recollect any other strange surgery stories coming out of North Denver.

Big ups once again to Fark.com.

[UPDATE: Phew! It was a joke. As much as I wanted to chalk it up to satire all along, it would not be all that outrageous in this day and age to see a story like that.]