Build your own hip-hop song

The Top 11 accidentally bumped the radio dial a couple weeks ago and the receiver was stuck on the local hip-hop and R&B station. So, it's been a week full of street cred in the ride as the bumping tracks have been tweaking it out in the dub rider. I think I said that right.

Anyway, couldn't help but notice some recurring themes throughout most of the new hip-hop. The Top 11 was able to construct these into a simple template for a song. Just pick your own specifics and you should be on your way to a 20,000 dollar record deal and a 2 shows at a 4H fair.

First, let the beat "rock" as they say...



Now, as with any great novel, you must first establish location and setting. Where are you located?

A. In the club
B. In the VIP in the club
C. In the back of the club
D. On the way into the club

Excellent. Next, you must establish who you wit.

A. Fellas
B. Homies
C. My thugs
D. Crew

What are you fine gentlemen drinking this evening?

A. Goose
B. Henny
C. Bottles
D. Champagne

Wonderful. So everyone has been seated in a comfortable setting and has a beverage. Now, you need an action point, an event. Who do you see walk in?

A. Girl
B. Shorty
C. Baby Girl
D. Baby Girl Shorty

A lady you say? This is getting good. Now, what is she doing?

A. Staring you down
B. Rolling with her sistas
C. By the bar, tryin' to get a drink
D. Rolling with sistas at the bar, trying to get a drink and staring you down

Ok. Time to pull back and let the beat roll for a minute. This is a good time for one of your friends to get some token mic time. What would you prefer that he say randomly over the music?

A. Yeah
B. Shorty
C. Hey
D. Money!

We have successfully hooked you up with a female and your buddies are digging it. Your voice is sounding great through the Auto-tune. How are you feeling?

A. Tipsy
B. Like shorty want some
C. Right
D. Like (insert vintage athlete) in his prime

Time for another buddy to chime in. What's his line?

A. Uh-huh
B. That's right
C. Hey
D. Yeah

Now, back to the hottie. She gots a drink and was staring you down, what do you think she is intending to do this evening?

A. Get with you in the backseat
B. Meet you at the hotel
C. Get on top
D. Drop it low

Sounds like you are in for not only a steamy night, but also a smash hit record, my man! Better seal the deal with something sweet to say to her.

A. You be lookin like Mona Lisa
B. You da best, you da you da best
C. No other girl is like you
D. I love when you drop it low

Just in case she isn't fully convinced, you better drop a little info about your financial situation. How many stacks of cash are currently on your person?

A. 5
B. Hella
C. Mad
D. 7

You know she won't roll in a taxi, what are you driving to the hotel in?

A. The Range
B. Bentley Coupe
C. Benz
D. Bentley Range

Well, I would say you are all set. Let one more buddy grab the mic and let's drop this thing.

A. Oh yeah
B. Shorty
C. Hey
D. Oh hey shorty

We out.

Weird Gum Commercials

We have been tracking this phenomena for a while at the Top 11 nerve center. We chewed it over. The story really stuck with us. We are ready to break the bubble on it. Ok, maybe that last one was a stretch.

Why are gum commercials so insanely weird?

Is it simply because the product they sell is a common and simple thing? So they have to spice up the marketing with flaming chariots and monkeys doing the electric slide? It's seems like the more insane these commercials get, the harder it would be to remember they are merely pitching gum. A tiny pack of spearmint gum. It gives you nice breath. If only there was a way to communicate these things to the masses. Say, do we still have those Wizard of Oz costumes and rocket launchers? I think I have an idea...

Commercials across the board have retreated into the mindspace that seemingly only makes real sense to people on LSD, dogs and conspiracy theorists. It's possible all these gum commercials are really coordinating codes for terrorist activity, how would we know? We just see the giraffe driving a battleship and think "Juicy Fruit." While many advertisers shop in the loco bin from time to time, gum does it constantly. All brands, all types, all sizes. Mint, fruit or cinnamon. You won't move packs unless your spot shows an astronaut slam dunking a basketball into a swimming pool on the rooftop of a Dubai hotel. Get it? It's has long lasting flavor!

Here are some examples. Should we really believe this gum didn't somehow get mixed up with crystal meth? Some sort of a weird truck accident on I-95 maybe? All of a sudden everyone's Big Red gives them Vietnam flashbacks? Seems a little strange.

Disgusting Halloween Candy

Pickings are getting a little slim in the kitchen candy bowl. The chocolate and the Starburst have left town long ago. We are starting to get down to the nasty stuff. Every reach back into the bowl takes a little more audacity. It's like a sugar-covered game of Chess. See what each family member took out, see what is left. "Damn, a Tootsie Pop in the second round? That's ballsy." These 11 are sure to be left long enough to get stale, because they suck:

11. Candy Corn
Let's just get this sick shit out of the way. Some of you people like this crap. It's neither candy, nor corn. And why the mixing with peanuts? Oooh, it's sweet and salty! Save it for your AARP meeting, Gramps.

10. NECCOs
You see, during the run-up to WWII, all the candy factories had to be retrofitted to manufacture machine gun shells and tear gas canisters. Since desperate times call for desperate measures, H. L. Necco, Jr. decided to continue selling his product with a different formula. He would make a fine paste of baby powder and Vaseline, then dry it in the sun. After a quick stroke of lead paint to keep the illusion of different flavors, NECCOs were born!

9. Those orange and black toffee things
They suck.

8. Black licorice
It's really just way too bold of a flavor for most people to understand.

7. Werther's Original
Weird name. Weird taste. Weird old dude in a sweater always offering them to little boys in the commercial.

6. Runts
Specifically, the bananas. There are secret underground groups of banana runt lovers. These people are messed up emotionally. Keep them away from your kids.

5. Almond Joy
It's like the people who make these don't even try to make them taste good. They just show up and make a crappy candy bar and collect a paycheck. American spirit my ass.

4. Fun-size candy

The sad part is, some marketing guy actually got this concept green-lighted, and it spread like wildfire. "Ok, Ok. What if we make really tiny bars and call them FUN size! They can fit in your purse or glove compartment! How FUUUUUUN is that?!" Annually decreasing the size of an already tiny candy bar is not fun, it's disgusting.

3. Bottle Caps

Why is there always a desire to make candy resemble things you shouldn't be eating? Bottle caps? Here, kid. Chew on this bottle cap. Check the variety pack now with paper clips and gummy rubber bands.

2. Peanut Brittle, Popcorn, Peanuts

Some may be decent snacks, but none are appreciated by children. So in honor of the trick-or-treating warrior out there, a big eff you to these homemade plastic baggies of garbage.

1. Suckers with bugs inside

You can't even pitch this as a novelty treat. Too much of a stretch. See what it's like to have a lollipop...if you live in a rain forest.

Plug it in, plug it in!

It's time for a new feature at The Top 11. It's called quick rants! SHAZZOOWWWW! BANG! Lookout! Quick rant, comin' at ya! ZIPPITY POW!!!

Fine, screw you people. We won't do quick rants. Yes, the idea is cheesy as hell, but maybe if we spiced things up around here we could get over that ever-elusive 20 reader mark. Do any of you tell other people about The Top 11? This thing won't go viral without some effort.

We won't have a new quick rants feature, but we will at least do one of them. Not only to show you all what could have been a kick-ass viral marketing idea, but also because this flat-out pisses me off. So off we go. This mindless stupid shit about unplugging appliances even when you are not using them needs to stop. They don't use electricity when you aren't using them. It doesn't matter what our friend Mr. Gore has told you. Toasters don't glow orange behind your back, Santa Claus doesn't watch you in the shower, cell phone chargers won't suck the power grid dry.

This is stupid and worthless thinking. It can be conceded that a cell phone charger while plugged in, without a phone on it, may use a very small and very negligible amount of electricity. But you can also produce a negligible amount of electricity by walking across the carpet with socks on. It's one thing to be a green-movement hippie. It's quite another to be a complete dumbass about it, spreading the word about how we are going to save our planet from Apocalypse...by unplugging the coffee machine.

This and other posts about global warming, or Al Gore's doucheosity, or other things environmental may lead some of our readers to the conclusion that this site is not about saving the Earth. Oh contraire, mon reader. We would love nothing more than to preserve our Mother Earth. To nestle against her sweet mountain bosom and feel the passion of her loving river...ahem. Look, The Top 11 cares about the planet, alright? It's just that people should be thinking of REAL and BIG ways to make change. Curly light bulbs and unplugging toasters? Is this a 5th grade science project?

Build a nuclear power plant. Make a car that runs on rainbows. Outlaw Christmas lights before October. Do something important. Do something big. Carpe electricity. Don't tell people not to use the radio in their car, or unplug their cell phone charger, or inflate their tires. Those things are a joke. It's like the stupid story where a guy puts his loose change in a coffee can and one day he's a millionaire. That story is a lie. I tried. After 45 years and 2.5% return on the invested pocket change, I had myself $14.95. To think, it was almost enough to buy me a couple of them curly light bulbs.

Titantic sinks sails again

Apparently, there are plans for a luxury liner to recreate the voyage of the Titanic. The voyage in 2012 will trace the exact route of the famous sinking vessel. The commemorative trip will also stop near the spot of the "hull malfunction" and have some sort of twisted memorial ceremony. Then everyone will scan the waters for a chick on a 20th century OAK DOOR probably weighing 400 pounds with the buoyancy capability to keep a minimum of 13 people alive in the frigid waters yet they will try ONE TIME to get another person on it, then give up despite the fact that when going to the lake I have seen three people on a 4 foot by 4 foot STYROFOAM RAFT when playing king of the mountain. But, I guess that chick's aristocratic pretentiousness needed all the extra space. Not that I am complaining. If anyone is going to survive by selfishly hogging the one floating piece of debris left from a 882 foot ocean liner, it should be the chick who showed her boobies halfway through the movie.

This is not a cute way to commemorate history, people. This is not honoring any of those who passed away. This is tempting fate. Like hanging a pork chop in front of a pitbull with a frayed leash. This is spitting in the face of superstition and coincidence. You don't egg karma's house like that without repercussion. Can't you just see the people crazy enough to be on this ride? Dancing the night away and drinking, making crass jokes about the Titanic? Well, I won't be on it. I have seen underwater blue ghost people from 1912 and they are creepy as hell. In honor (or dishonor) of this boneheaded idea, we will offer something that has been missing for a while around here...a Top 11.

Submitted, The Top 11 events tempting fate:

11. Recreation of the Titanic Voyage on 100th Anniversary. "I'll never let go, Jack...of my inability to comprehend irony...I'll never let go."

10. 1st Annual Convertible Cruise through Dealey Plaza (Extra seating available in adjacent grass area)

9. World Series "Quake and Shake" Dance Party - Immediately following Game 3, come down to the park for twist, electric slide and hula-hoop contests!

8. Hurricane Katrina Anniversary Sale at Home Depot - Everything must go! Plywood boards 30% off. Permanent markers for desperate rooftop signs 40% off!

7. Vegas Stage Show with REAL tigers.

6. Chicago's 138th Annual Bovine Lamp Kicking Contest

5. Town Festival offers new alligator races! Baby alligators will be raced in a pen for charity! (after racing, the alligators will be disposed of down a storm sewer, shouldn't be an issue)

4. State Officials in Hawaii have named December 7 as a new holiday: Sleep-in Day!!! Everyone grab a few extra z's and head into work late.

3. "Be the first caller to win two balcony tickets to Ford's Theatre. Enjoy the stunning view from the Presidential Suite..."

2. California Drought Season Hillside Fireworks Spectacular

1. Human Chain of Immunity - Show that all citizens are united against the spread of the flu by holding hands to create a chain across the country.

ALL HAIL THE (new) PRINCE OF PEACE!

There is nothing worse than starting off a new week with unfinished business. Monday morning is bad enough, we don't need lingering issues clouding our minds, right? We want full and complete focus so we can avoid work and hate people on Mondays. Anything from last week needs to be put to rest. Like Santana Moss not pulling his weight on my fantasy team. Enjoy free agency, San man. Speaking of underperformers from Washington, wasn't there some other news from our nation's capital last week? We better address it. This post is actually to satisfy a reader request. Because of this flattering occasion, The Top 11 feels it's time to thank the readership for their continued visits and now enthusiastic participation! So thank you to all 14 of you. We couldn't keep the site running without your court-ordered support!

Let's not mince words. Let's not beat around the bush. Or even hem and haw. We shouldn't even waffle. Some of you may be tempted to waffle at a time like this. And I understand the desire to waffle. But we must not waffle. DO NOT WAFFLE. Let's just put it out there. Just...ok, here we go...(breathe)...we can do this.....ok, ok, ok....Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize. Whew. We did it.

It is understood that for some people, a rush of heat went up their spine when they heard the news. This was yet another crown placed upon the head of the messiah without any accomplishment to speak of, merely promises. It probably gave some of you pause. Maybe you were even tempting to...waffle? It's ok. It makes sense. Perhaps you thought any one of these was a good reason to maybe, oh I don't know, wait one minute before awarding the prize to President Obama:

-Does not have any tangible "peace" events or achievement to his credit
-Despite not being his idea, still maintains troops in Iraq and Afghanistan
-"Invaded" America automotive industry with an offensive rivaled only by the Vikings (as much as I hate to admit it, you can actually use real Vikings or the Favre-led football Vikings right here, both pillage at an impressive clip)
-killed a fly during a press conference
-Surrounded himself with people who are casually referred to as "czars"
-Ordered kill shots of Somali pirates (which was kickass, but not exactly something you put on your Nobel Prize questionnaire)
-Cozies up to Ahmadinejad, Hugo Chjavez and other dictators (contrary to belief, this shouldn't really be a positive in terms of peace and foreign policy)
-called Kayne West a jackass
-slaughtered a kitten in cold blood after his eggs Benedict was served too cold

To be fair, one of those is unconfirmed rumor. Also to be fair, Barack Obama hasn't exactly started any wars. Or exterminated an entire race of people. He hasn't punched an old lady, he hasn't put H1N1 in our water supply (or haaaaas he?). No, one thing the detractors can't claim is that he is an evil man. But, that doesn't make him a bastion of peace by default. There has to be a least a couple other human beings who haven't murdered anyone out there.

Anyone who is upset with the Peace Prize being awarded to our President seems to have probable cause for their case. This award was clearly given based on potential, based on influence, based on newsworthiness and politics. But here is where it falls apart. Although this "award" seems like a bit of premature prizeulation, and it is, what really happened here is that such a high-profile recipient has brought attention to the award. And what has further happened is that people expect the Nobel Prize to be an award given without politics, prejudice or bias. They expect the award to be given on achievement. On real, tangible work toward peace. Unfortunately, that's just not what the award has come to mean.

Before you get all fired up about it, remember that the Nobel group isn't exactly a neutral collection of people spanning across all races and boundaries. The group, and consequently the award, has an agenda. If you think of it as advancing a certain (cough*liberal*cough) mindset, who else would you pick? If your goal was to bring attention to the award and further a liberal agenda, well...the pick is brilliant. The only problem is that a lot of people don't realize this truth about the Nobel, so they get fired up about it. But the fact is, the prize has a left-slanted agenda, and they award as such. (And, gasp!, that's perfectly fine, it's their award to give, more power to them).

Just in case anyone is still mad at our peacekeeper-in-training getting the early MVP, take a look through the history of Nobel Peace prize winners. Barack Obama, despite accomplishing next to nothing, is still light-years ahead of some of these fine folks: Jimmy Carter, Yasser Arafat. The United Nations has won multiple times. People, our good friend ALBERT GORE has one of these in his curio cabinet. Woodrow Wilson? Mother Theresa? GET SERIOUS!

So don't fret about this one, folks. It's the Nobel committee's award to give. It's not an award given collectively by the whole world as some people want to think. The award is often given, as we said, on newsworthiness and promises. You can't really argue with that.

Congratulations, Mr. President.

Sneaky Banks Charge for Using Money You Don't Have

Overdraft fees are the subject of debate.

Well, it's about time the lawmakers stopped talking about health care and war, and started doing something important for a change. Us innocent banking consumers have been kicked and spit on a few too many times, don't you think? I don't know about you people. But I am sick and tired of being penalized when I try to use money that I don't have! I think it's a well-established fact that sometimes you have to buy things you don't have money for in order to survive or at least look good for a party. But try telling that to a bank. Will they listen to your case? HA! Hardly. They all say the same corporate BS! Heard it a thousand times. "Sir, you do understand that overdraft charges happen when you don't have money in your account, right?" "We are not enslaving you at all. You have negative 14 dollars in your account and you tried to buy 17 shares of Wal-Mart stock on your VISA card, sir." "Sir, please lower your weapon or I will have to call security. I am sure we can loan you the 12.95 you need for sneakers." Bah! Same old crap from those corrupt bankers. You would think the government would have them all in prison by now. For STEALING! Stealing fees from me just because I don't account for "real money." Pssh.

Give us a break! Not everyone is an accountant. Have you ever tried to raise a family AND know how much you have in the bank? At the SAME TIME? Of course, it's impossible. And banks know that. So they hit you with some bull crap fee when you charge more than what's in your account.

Look at this quote from that article:

{ Blanton said she recently had to straighten out some $150 in overdraft fees at her local bank, accidentally incurred by her 20-year-old daughter, a college student. "I know the banks are getting stricter and more creative in the ways they're making money, but they're really just socking it to you," she said. }

That lady is SO right! Strict and creative doesn't even cover the half of it. Her poor, helpless, college daughter tried to buy something and the bank screwed her over 5 times with fees! College kids have to go to class and parties, DO YOU THINK THEY HAVE TIME TO FIND OUT HOW MUCH MONEY IS IN THEIR ACCOUNT BEFORE SHOPPING? They aren't bank tellers for crying out loud.

Look at this quote:

{ "During tough economic times, when people have tapped all their other sources of credit, when they have to pay for gas or groceries, they really need that payment to go through," ABA spokeswoman Carol Kaplan said. }

Oh. My. God. Now the banks won't even let people buy food? That is so DESPICABLE. Who cares if they have the money or not? Don't you think that's sort of a technicality when people are starving to death? People need gas in their cars to get to work. He-llo! So now the banks are causing unemployment, too because they won't let the charge go through! Thanks a lot, banks! Maybe they didn't get the memo that you can't penalize people during TOUGH ECONOMIC TIMES. Heartless bastards.

{ For Blanton, the headache was enough to make her consider shopping for a new bank. "They used to let these things slide, but they don't anymore," she said. }

Just like this lady said, looks like they aren't letting anything slide anymore. I just wanted to make sure people knew this type of stuff is going on out there. Banks are out to get you, people. They are stealing your money just because you try to buy something you can't cover with your account. Watch out for them. Hopefully Congress acts soon, because something needs to change. And there is no way they can expect every American to know how much money they have 24/7. We're not accountants, you know.

Woman Mauled to Death by "Pet" Black Bear

Here.

(reading headline...rolling eyes...reading story...audible frustrated sigh...reading...marks a hash on "people mauled by wild animals" dry erase board)

Backstory, if you please.

When will people understand? Just because something is not human does not make it a pet. Certain animals have evolved certain characteristics that make them desirable to human beings as domesticated pets. Weighing 350 pounds is NOT one of these characteristics. Let's do the old cliche of looking at a word's definition, shall we?

Pet (n.) - a domesticated animal kept for companionship or amusement

What exactly is it about a 350 pound black bear that you would consider amusing? When you see a black bear on the side of a mountain, do you immediately think: companion? Or it is possible that a fricking BLACK BEAR belongs to an entirely different class of animals? Say, a class of animals completely separate from the ones we call pets? It's almost as if God had some weird fetish with variety, you know? Like, why make some animals we can domesticate and hold in our lap and some we can't fit in the bed of a pickup truck? Why does God confuse us like that? You would think these mistakes would happen much less often if God were to simply make all animals totally obedient to human commands and preferably without teeth or claws. What does he know? I mean, I understand that he created the whole universe and all that but if you simply made animals that wouldn't spontaneously kill people our lives would be so much.....

SWEET MOTHER OF HEAVEN! WHY DO PEOPLE CONTINUE TO HARBOR THESE FUR-COVERED KILLING MACHINES!?!?!?

It has become apparent that more senseless deaths will occur unless someone steps in. Unless someone educates the masses about the safe care and control of animals. The Top 11 is not all talk. We will take the first step toward ending these tragedies. With a little picture game we like to call, "Which one is a pet?"

Scoring:
5/5 - Congrats! You are an animal superstar!
Anything else - I'm sorry, please get your affairs in order as you will be viciously torn limb from limb.

Al Gore's Magic Electro-car

Despite what some of you may think, The Top 11 is actually a strong supporter of electric cars. Plugging your vehicle into the outlet every night seems convenient, quirky and fun. At least, more fun that filling your car with gasoline constantly. Plus, simple electricity at home carries other pros that gasoline just can't guarantee. Such as not murdering yourself in a horrific accident at the pump. And it doesn't smell as funny.

What does smell funny is the government shelling out half a billy (Obamaspeak for "Who fricking cares anymore?") to a company that is going to make electric cars. Not just electric cars. Electric sports cars. Not just a company. A company tied to everyone's favorite climo-douche, Al Gore! Avid Top 11 readers (Is there any other kind? I know!) should know what high esteem Mr. Gore is held in around these parts.

While perusing the Financial Post over coffee on the veranda of my Costa Rica villa this morning, I nearly spit my croissant over the carved marble railing. Just as I was hoping to find a way to invest the insane profits from Top 11 copyright royalties, I read about this new car company, blah blah and then it ends with this:

Investors in closely held Fisker, founded by car designer Fisker, include Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, a Menlo Park, California-based venture capital fund that employs former Vice President Al Gore, and Quantum Fuel Systems Technologies Worldwide Inc.

"Drats!" I exclaimed as I chucked the remaining bite of croissant onto the head of an unsuspecting Juan trimming the rose bushes below. That Al Gore has some nerve! And I mean some nerve. What am I talking about? Isn't he putting his money where his mouth is? At least he is making electric cars and not gas-guzzling SUVs. True, although I am willing to bet that Al guzzles something else entirely, but that's beside the point.

The point is that this man has done more to scare the little children of our great nation than the boogey man, haunted houses, loud thunderstorms and a plate of Brussels sprouts combined. This fear monger made a movie, which was shown in classrooms, that was designed to scare everyone out of their horrible, polluting, fat and disgusting American lives before it was too late and we all died in the tsunami of melting Arctic ice. Well, we are still here and as far as I know, Manhattan has yet to be flooded with anything other than knockoff purses and herpes.

You think I am overreacting? Are you one of those "believers" in global warming? Watch this:



Now what do you think rows of people in stretchers and burning buildings and hurricanes are supposed to convey? Responsible green living? A structured and conscious change in our travel or energy industries? No. It was designed to convey fear. FEAR. But what we all failed to see was that this clown wasn't striking global warming fear into our hearts to save Mother Earth. He was doing it to make mooooooooooooney. Lots of money.

It is the only conclusion we can come to when a man who puts out this fricking movie to scare us all into curly light bulbs and Priuses doesn't act that scared himself. Unless you think a venture capital firm's office is the strongest place to be when the inevitable death wave we all caused comes crashing down, and that's why he's shacking up there. Unless you believe that if we were in true global crisis that the best way to counteract our foolish ways was to start a car company, slated to roll units off the line in 2012. C'mon people, time to wake up.

And for all you who think this is such a noble gesture either way, that these cars are really helping the "common man" save the Earth? Check out the $90,000 on that little battery-powered toy Al is helping make. Al Gore is one of the biggest fear-mongering pricks in this whole global warming scam. He is so worried about the problem that he spends his days working at a venture capital firm. Seems like the kind of place interested in making a difference, right? Now, his venture capital firm is making electric cars we can ALL afford, at 90 G's. Now that company is getting a $500 million slap on the butt from the government.

Well, Mr. Gore, you succeeded. I am now scared shitless of our future.

Actually, I DON'T care about the kids

[Today we take a rare look into the central command of The Top 11. Perhaps you naively thought that one person created this wonderful blog and all its hilarious content. Quite untrue. In fact, a dedicated team of over 200 engineers and scientists are working around the clock to create what you read here. This crack team of information trackers is running 24/7, 364. (after a unanimous vote, Cinco De Mayo is a non-work holiday)


So what do all these employees actually DO all day? Well, we popped in today to ask the same thing. After frantically hiding some pot smoking paraphernalia and Wii controllers, the engineers gave us some insight into what they are watching. Frank, a level 17 comptroller, tells us, "Basically, we are watching stories. You know, stories and topics. Each topic has a color-coded threat level, sorta like the terrorist thing. If a story gets hot, we watch it real closely. If a topic is hot enough, we send it up to the big guy, and if we're lucky, he makes a post about it." We asked Frank, "So, this big guy, who is he, what's he like?" Frank replies, "Not sure. No one has even really seen him. We send the hottest stories up to his office using this vacuum tube. Sorta like a drive-thru at a bank." "And you never hear back from him?" "Nope. The tubes just come back empty. One time the tube had a taco wrapper in it." We had to ask, "a taco wrapper?" He tells us, "yeah, there was a little bit of lettuce in it, too." Finally, we ask Frank for a little heads-up on today's topic, "So, can you tell us what you sent up today?" Frank obliges, "Weeeeeeeeell, I'm not SUPPOSED to say anything, but I think it's something about baseball. And twelve year-olds. It could get ugly." "Thanks, Frank." ]

Not sure how long it has been on. Not sure how many people watch it. Not sure if this is a popular opinion or not. Not sure if anyone even gives a crap. But here goes. THERE IS NO FRICKING REASON FOR THE LITTLE LEAGUE WORLD SERIES TO BE ON NATIONAL TELEVISION. AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

(heavy breathing)

This one falls squarely on ESPN's shoulders. Assuming this started out as just showing the championship game, which may not have even been that bad, the sheer idiocy of this has blossomed into what seems to include broadcasting the entire tournament, and devoting a laughable amount of web space to the event. Unless your own kid was in this, why the hell would you care? Besides, if you're kid went to the LLWS, wouldn't you be there? Why would it have to be on TV? People don't even watch Major League professional baseball anymore. Now we are expected to watch kids play and be entertained? Why should we be enthralled by this? Because they are children? Well, the truth hurts, but here goes...kids suck at stuff. Kids suck at sports because they aren't athletic or developed. Kids suck at art. Kids suck at poker. Kids suck at driving race cars. It's not their fault, they're kids! Watching them do things is not entertaining or exciting, why is it on television?!


Again, it may be cute or fun to see the kids in the final game play under the pressure of a couple thousand fans. But ESPN is giving breakdowns of this shit. They have a flow chart explaining the bracket to the finals. They have the hip Sportscenter anchors doing their wisecracks over highlights. They are showing SLOW MOTION REPLAYS of big plays. Big plays? Get serious. There is a video bar on the website? I can't take this. It's stupid. It's boring. It's creepy. I don't care if every kid likes A-Rod or Jeter and has a mumbling problem. Who cares what their favorite subject in school is? Unless there is a video of a kid's mom "improving his chance at quality playing time" on the Internet, can we cease to make this news?

Yes, it's true that I was one of those ogre 12 year-olds in the lower league because no one drafted me. Yes, some of the kids in the LLWS could easily hit a ball farther than me right now. THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT AND HAS NOTHING VERY LITTLE TO DO WITH THIS! You can't give me one solid reason why this is being broadcast in America. I don't even care if it is a ratings bonanza, which I doubt. I bet if there was a show called Lighting Homeless People on Fire While They Sleep that we would all be glued to it. But that doesn't mean it has a place on national airwaves. Look, if I want to watch 12 year old boys in tight pants...ok, there's no way to end that sentence. All I am saying is that this is stupid television. Even worse than the usual crap on the main networks.


Doesn't anyone think this might exacerbate the problem of psycho little league parents? Oh, so people were pummeling coaches in the parking lot with tire irons? Maybe if we added prestige and television to the mix, people will calm down and begin to appreciate these kids just for good sportsmanship of it all? Let these kids have a childhood. We all have to learn about defeat. We all have to learn about losing. About sucking at something. About not making the team or getting a trophy. Do these kids now have to do that with all of America watching? Unbelievable.

I understand that with the death of Michael Jackson, it's harder and harder to find people who want to watch twelve year olds. But that doesn't seem like a reason to ramp up your coverage of all the regional qualifiers. High school kids don't get this kind of exposure. Hell, most college athletes will never have the luxury of watching their own games on TV. Yet it is important for us all to see Taylor McKutchen from Okawacko, Wisconsin strike out on a 38 mph heater? Who pays for these kids to travel across the country for six weeks to compete in the tournament. These kids should be at home. Or in school. Or in the army or something.

We don't really call for boycotts or anything like that around here. But don't watch this crap. Don't be fooled into thinking this is exciting because they play ESPN music coming out of commercial. They have Associated Press write-ups of each game. Injury and scouting reports. Don't feed the beast. Don't make it worse. These kids should be awkwardly talking to girls or mowing yards for 5 bucks like the rest of us did. Let them hit puberty before become professional ballplayers.

The truth behind your emails

Have you ever noticed those little titles you give your email folders? Surely at some point of your horrible office job, when you still had one sliver of hope that you would do something exciting, you had the moment. The moment when you first settle into your workspace, your computer, your email. Like a nerdy college kid who organizes his books and folders the night before class, you have nice little receptacles for all your electronic correspondence. But something funny happens the longer you sit in that chair which is now working on ruining a third vertebrae. You realize your job sucks. Promises of raises or improved working conditions are now lies. "Constructive" criticism is more like all-out slander in this risky economy. You still don't have the freedom to be honest about what you do once you enter the magical world of Outlook. But today we will imagine for a moment that the labels on those little folders told the real story behind what you do in email. Don't worry, we won't CC your boss on this one...

Not a huge fan of Brett Favre

So after the yearly hullabaloo, Brett Favre once again retired. Then he unretired. Then he disappeared into the Mississippi backwater and shot a Wrangler jeans commercial where a yellow Labrador puppy playfully jumps onto his lap, and a multi-racial group of young guys slap together a touch football game. Because if there is anywhere on Earth that a multi-racial homoerotic football game might break out...rural Mississippi. After throwing for 17 touchdowns on the commercial shoot (all diving catches into a mud puddle), Favre popped a couple Codeine pills, sat down at his desk carved out of a tree, and began his yearly ritual of pulling flower petals off one by one. "I love me...I love me not...I love me...I love me not...I LOVE ME! Honey! I'm gon' play me some football again!"

No football fan (who doesn't regularly sleep in a #4 jersey and dream of what a female breast might feel like) could have done anything but give an exhausted sigh. We knew he was coming back. No matter how many times he said it was the end. No matter what level of percent over 100 he was sure that he was retired. No matter how many aches, pains and injuries he had to squash with Vicodin tablets, we knew he was coming back. Like Jesus. Or herpes. Brett Favre, boomerangs and dogs on the loose only do one thing. Come back. Too bad that one thing isn't getting hit by a car.

Strangely enough, the story which had lost the ability to capture our interest, about as quickly as one of Favre's Morphine shots wears off, was able to bring everyone back into the fold this time. Is it because he is a raging douche? No. Is it his silvery stubble and grizzled woodsman look? Hardly. Do we care now because Favre is the only active player who was alive during Gettysburg? Close, but no. We are compelled to watch this time because he who could not be hated more did perhaps the lowest, sleaziest, he takes over the recommended dosage of Tylenolest, trashiest, Mississippiest, traitorous thing imaginable. He signed with the Minnesota Vikings. Sworn enemies of the Cheeseheads. The purple beast.

Brett Evelyn Favre has every right to play for another team. Even after his many years in Green Bay, he has the right to do so. A man can earn his living and if one team cuts him loose, to another team he goes. But the fact that Brett Favre has been a thorn in so many sides makes this a stupid move on his part. He could have left with the worst thing being that he just couldn't decide whether or not to retire. Like a 13 year old girl deciding what to wear or the choice between Percocet and Oxycontin. But he had to throw more gasoline on a growing public opinion fire. He had to do his yearly press conference dance recital, his amazing race flight plan from Minnesota to Mississippi to New York, his tearful admission that he just can't leave the game. Just not yet. And inexplicably, he just had to quiet the urge to play...by signing with the team that 99% of his fans hate with a passion.

It's no wonder many more fans were upset to hear he pulled this stunt again. Some football followers like myself have loathed him from day one. Not because he is a mean guy. Because of the idea of Brett Favre. The actual guy is probably pretty nice. Someone you would maybe have a beer with, along with President Obama and a race-baiting Harvard professor. But we hate the guy who got credit just for playing in consecutive games. The guy who the media would salivate over. The guy who John Madden would bear children for. The guy who has TOO much fun and acts like an idiot. The guy who has more picks than Les Paul. The guy who lied and cried. Too many times. The guy who was equal parts country boy and 8 year old girl.

Brett Favre has been my nemesis for the better part of a decade. I have seethed with hatred and loathing of this man since I was 12 years old. I hated him before it was popular to hate him. I hate him so much I made light of his father dying which to everyone else was a tragic yet heroic storyline for one of his football games. He sucks. He throws picks. I went through all my dictionaries and ripped the word "gunslinger" out years ago. I once sent a rotten fish wrapped in newspaper to John Madden. Brett Favre signing with Minnesota, to me, is the epitome of all that is evil, cold, dead and black in Western Society. I could hire a panel of Charles Dickens, Thoreau, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Maya Angelou, Stalin, the T-rex from Jurrasic Park, Dora the Explorer, Michael Jackson's corpse, Hemingway and System of a Down and they could not make words express my hatred for this person.

Once again, Brett Favre is back. I hope with 99.99% of my body that he gets destroyed in the pocket for his presumption and his antics. Shelved for good. But there is .01% of me that admires a guy who just wants to play. Even if he has the most annoying way of showing it. Just don't tell anyone I said that.

How many kids are you having?

If you are a young parent, a few things are true. First, that calling yourself "young" in the first place is merely a coping mechanism for your lost freedom. Once you are controlled by an evil 3 foot dictator (or 2 or 3), your age is meaningless. There are real young people out there. But they are getting drunk on the weekends, while you are changing diapers and getting close to perfecting Dora's Spanish accent. Another truth for young parents is that they will often be asked how many kids they plan to have. You will find that most parents know their "plan" for how many kids they expect to saddle with the $1 trillion national debt. Some parents have the number and gender planned out before they even start having the kids. As far as planning the genders, they have either: A. not cracked a science book in a while or B. developed nano-robots that ride on sperm chariots. The fact is, with the modern advancements in planning techniques (pull out!) and our more money-conscious society, the amount of children we have seems to be just as "plannable" as a cocktail party or how the house is decorated.

Since we can also plan so many other things in our lives, we tend to fill our schedules to the brim with activity. Jobs, clubs, parties, friends and committees. It's a wonder we even have time for our little tax deductions. As this trend toward more activity continues, the old cliche of 2.5 kids turned into 2.1 kids. (When the average drops below 1.9 kids China will strike, since at that point we won't have enough people to field a beach volleyball game, let alone a beach invasion.) As a result of this slow whittling of population growth, kids get more attention. It's not good or bad necessarily, just different. Kids that used to be "that red-haired one" or "get me my boots, boy" are now Madison with a cell phone at age 9 or McKenna with her own room and WiFi. Cheap labor and hide-and-seek is now high-expense and itineraries.

Which brings us to the Duggars. In case you haven't heard of this family, they are basically famous for having a lot of kids. What, like 4 kids? Nope, more. Ok, so they're like Catholic or something? What do they have, like 9 kids? Wrong again. 18. They voluntarily have 18 children. This isn't one of those foster homes or anything like that. It's not like Angelina Jolie flying into Uganda for a weekend and leaving with 2 kids. They have 18 kids, of their own. Made the old-fashioned way and here in the U.S. of A.

At some point, the Duggar family was even able to parlay their litter into a reality show or something. The family has its own website and at least enough notoriety that people probably help them with diapers and things. The family seems very religious, almost proselytizing on their website and, of course, they embrace the wonderful blessing of so many God soldiers children. It seems like it's exactly what they want, and they love it and they love each other. Sounds great.

But don't you wonder if perhaps Mr. Duggar is holding back a bit each time the pregnancy stick is pink? Sure, a big family is fun, but 18? They are simple people, but don't they still have enough of a desire to be like everyone else that sometimes 18 seems like a shitload? Of course you are happy for the blessing of all 18 on your website, but do they ever lie in bed at night and confess to each other that "I think we should have stopped at 11, this is nuts." Or, "Did you know we have more people in this house than a Division I basketball team?" Maybe, "I have a confession, I never really learned which is Jacob and which is Josh. I usually just guess or say 'hey sport'!"

One has to wonder how that moment happens. Each time that the Mrs. tells her husband that she is with child. You could see a little stress added on each time they have another...

Kid 1
Wife: Honey...we're pregnant!
Husband: Oh my gosh! Really? This is awesome. This is amazing. Oh my gosh, I have to call my mother!

Kid 2
Wife: Honey...we're pregnant again!
Husband: Wow! Really! This is great!
Wife: Aren't you going to call your mom?
Husband: Eh, we'll see her this weekend.

Kid 3
Wife: Here comes number 3!
Husband: All right. Can't wait.
Wife: Are you mad?
Husband: N-n-no. I'm not maaaaad. We said we would have at least 3, right? No, honey this is great! I am excited.
Wife: You don't seem excited.
Husband: Of course I am excited, I just had a rough day at work.

Kid 4
Wife: Honey...I'm pregnant!
Husband: (sarcastic thumbs up)

Kid 5
Wife: Here comes number five!
Husband: (slams down newspaper)

Kid 6
Wife: Honey...I'm pregnant.
Husband: You just had a kid 8 days ago you whore!

Kid 7
Wife: Pregnant again.
Husband: Yeah, and grass is green.

Kid 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, etc.
Wife: Honey...
Husband: (watches TV and takes a pull from Jack Daniels bottle)

Oh just kidding. They seem to love it. So here's to the Duggars. Who provide some quick perspective when our 2, 3 or 4 seems like too much to handle.

Quidditch offers safe haven for losers

Some of you may think that this blog is a little quick on the trigger. Many of the posts in the past may seem like a snap reaction to a story without giving the victim the benefit of the doubt first. In actuality, the opposite is true. The Top 11 is actually very patient. It is only after being beaten into submission by the idiocy of society that we finally throw our hands in the air in desperation, and let the bile spill forth onto the canvas. For example, today's post will be lambasting the social dregs who have decided to play a fictional game. A fictional game that comes from a book about teenage wizards getting boners. On the surface, it may appear that The Top 11 was just recently notified of the "quidditch craze" and decided to pounce. Not so. We have been following this Harry Potter garbage from the beginning.

Keeping with the theme of patience and tolerance, there have been no posts ripping on Harry Potter. We haven't even exposed the people who read Harry Potter (including some alleged "grown-ups") for their douchetastic behavior. Basically, all those people who are witches intrigued by sorcery and dragons have been free to do so around here with nary a complaint from management. The rest of us who don't read Harry Potter books (society refers to this as "employed") have simply shaken our heads quietly and moved on. Shaken? Shook? We let the Harry Potter weirdos get off on plot twists about 12 twelve year old characters, they hold hands in this one!!!, or whether or not the train could actually fly, not without a spell being cast on it!!!! no way!!!

So all was peaceful between Harry Potter readers and those of us who can make a layup. Until the fantasy on the page wasn't enough for them. They had to reenact the story. What better place to display your geekdom than the college mall? It's now a craze. It's rare that a societal disease like Harry Potter can exist for a decade without major incident and then completely overstep its boundaries into the real world. Sorry Harry, but you belong on the pages of a book under the flashlight of a bookworm child, or God forbid, a person over 30 who has never been laid. Quidditch is not becoming a sport. Or a craze. Or anything of note. We must stop it. There is only a certain level of hippy dorkness we can tolerate at America's universities. Unfortunately, ultimate Frisbee and Bob Marley posters take up most of this quota and there just isn't room for Quidditch.

Some of you may think this is harmless fantasy. College kids being kids. No, putting NyQuil in a date's drink to grease the skids is kids being kids. This is worse. You people aren't looking beyond the story. What the hell are we supposed to when China invades us? Are we supposed to field a military full of 120 pound white kids who think magic and wizards are cool? You can't cast a spell on a tank. We are doomed if we let these kids run free over the campus grass with their wispy hair and their soccer shorts. Back in my day, we used to verbally abuse these kids until they accepted their fates as future actuaries and English teachers. We didn't let the nerds frolic around on brooms. ON BROOMS! Maybe the broom is the crux of the whole thing anyway. If you are a college student who plays a game that involves having a broom between your legs, you are shaping up to push a broom for the rest of your life anyway. So maybe it all works out.

At least the losers used to keep to themselves in basements. Now we have to watch them prance around. Outside. Is it really too much to ask to at least have the jocks, like, hit these people with water balloons full of urine or something?

Generation Remake

When people pour themselves a big bowl of nostalgia cereal, then tend to put extra sugar on the 60's and 70's. The 80's get more of a bum rap, at least for its music, and the 90's tend to float around in the "it wasn't long enough ago" or "nothing defined it" spaces. People from my generation are still waiting for something to cling to it seems, at least in terms of culture. Sure, we have the Internet and the iPhone, but neither is exclusively a youth possession. Whereas parents in the 60's or 70's may have said "Turn down that damn Fred Zeppelin!" or "I don't care if it's made of muscle, you aren't getting a Chevelle", the youth now are more likely to be burdened with a request from Mom and Pop to teach them about email, texting or Twitter, not to stop using them. Mom: Ok, so we set up my Twitter, now how do I blog my Twitter? Kid: (slaps forehead)

Us in Generation X, Y, 2.0 (see? we can't even quantify it) or whatever seem to lack the cultural pillars that ended up making the 60's and 70's so famous. Vietnam was huge. The Beatles were huge. Drugs. Sex. Music. Woodstock. All were huge. And even that which wasn't the best seems to be celebrated when people look back. No one will ever celebrate our big moment through misty nostalgia eyes: 9/11. Closely followed by what? Michael Jackson dying? Iraq? Recession?But enough of me trying to be a pop culture writer. Our loyal readership (all 8 of you) are probably wondering who started cutting and pasting from Slate.com or SPIN around here. Is there still a SPIN? God, I'm a loser.

The whole point of indicting our generation as "gen-blah" is that we are seemingly responsible for the latest evil of our time. Something we have slowly allowed to creep and crawl into our lives without demanding it be held accountable. This new, creeping evil is the tendency for our g-g-g-generation to remake things of old in the absence of a new idea. Now, from here on out, we are using "generation" to span about as many people as we can. We mean the people who are still moving, shaking and creating right now. Mostly a mesh of Generations X, Y and the digi-emo-kids.

Those of you who follow cars already know all about remakes. It seems like for 10 years we had to endure only remakes of old cars. While those old cars are great, some people still want something new. Something their own. People not born within a decade of those old cars still desire them because their styling is constantly kept alive down the years. I am just as guilty as anyone. I listen to Led Zeppelin. I would kill to drive a 1970 Chevelle. I was born in 1981. The PT Cruiser, the Chevy HHR, Camaro, Mustang and many more have famously borrowed or sometimes completely copied sure bets in styling from the past.

We see it in fashion. What we wear is constantly recycling old with new, but it feels like instead of putting our own spin on things from back then, we blatantly copy them in a vain attempt to find a comfortable spot we know worked in the past. When remake is a verb, it's nowhere nearly as creative. If something is "a" remake, chances are you threw in your own flavor. When you simply "re-make" something, chances are you are a copycat. Throwing in some design cues or trends or cuts with retro style is one thing, dressing up like you are going to the now-ubiquitous "80's party" is quite another.

Summer movies are now guaranteed to have a full lineup of remakes. Everyone from 20 to 40 years old seemed to be orgasmic while waiting for the new Transformers movie. Why? Because it was a cartoon when you were 9? Someone asked me if I was going to see it opening weekend, and with perhaps some extra prick added for effect, I said, "nope." Oh, why not? Well, for starters I don't believe in flying robots that turn into trucks anymore. Not that a movie full of explosions and hot women dressed in dishrags won't be fun, of course it will. But something about it seemed so patronizing. Can't you imagine the pitch meeting? "Look Frank, I'm telling you. Transformers can't lose! Why? Why? Because all these kids watched it when they were little, that's why!"

Maybe I am once again becoming the bitter old man as this blog often causes me to receive criticism about. But we just seem too quick to bring back the old stuff. Too many kids talking about Saved By the Bell and how cheesy it is, but how awesome it is. At least wait until the show is out of syndication before you do the whole "liking it to be ironic" thing. We wear T-shirts with characters from shows we watched as kids on them, and we laugh. We remake movies of cartoons we used to watch, because there are no new ideas. We sample old music because making our own hook or beat is apparently too time-consuming. We blatantly copy old styles instead of making our own.

Of course, there are plenty of new, fresh, and cool things that have come about recently. We are simply observing one trend out of of many, nothing more. Something to watch for. Well, gotta run, I am pitching an idea for a brand new T.V. show called A-Team. The pilot episode is really coming together...

Where's the money, Obamski?

Way back in the cold middle of February, I made a promise to myself. "If you are not filthy rich because of the stimulus package by the middle of July, you can write a scathing screed about it." The rest of February was spent marking various calendars and creating a massive chain of paper rings. I eagerly pulled a ring off each day since the stimulus was passed and tore it to shreds. Knowing that the economy would not provide me with the new BMW 3 Series or even the Wii Fit I have been dying... dyyyyying to try, I kept counting the days. Today as I awoke early before the wife or children, I threw a handful of confetti in the air and blew on the party horn. No, not that party horn.

Finally! The day has come that I can ask President Barack Obama: where's the money? Where is the progress? Where is the milk and honey? With some quick scribbling merely months ago, Daddy Fat Stacks dropped some financial liquidity on this bitch, and we have yet to see the hoes. Isn't it appropriate now to ask the President what happened to our cash?


Right about now, you funk soul brothas out there might be asking, "Isn't it a little early to question such a laaaaaaaarge government program and its impact?" Good point. It often takes quite a while for government programs to truly display their worth to society. Hell, welfare has been around since the 1930's and we are still waiting for that to pay off, eh? I understand what some of you are saying. You can't just expect Benjamins to rain down from helicopters and gold coins to come out of the faucet. Normally, I would say you are all right. But here's the thing, the government created $800 billion dollars out of thin air! Why can't we demand an immediate improvement? You say, "well it's not like they waved a magic wand and made that money..." Yes they fucking did! That's what they did. And if I created $800 billion out of nothing, I would have more to show for it than a slowly rising Dow Jones average...
...a slowly rising Dow Jones average that most economists would tell you was coming anyway. Because most economists believe in the cycle pattern of the stock market. Not the direct correlation between market value and Washington's inevitable stupidity.

All that we are asking today is where did this money go? Has it already been spent? Is some of it still only on paper? Can't we as citizens in good faith be a little testy about this and ask when the rapture will take us over and shower us with riches?


I may be no fiscal genius, but I will tell you this. If it were me who decided to create $800 billion, on top of billions and billions used to bail out failing banks, I would have more to show for my rich kid shopping spree than a controlling stake in General Motors. How lame is that? You gave yourself more money than God and you bought a failing American dinosaur? I would have bought a REAL dinosaur. Not a skeleton. A real life dinosaur. Scientists say dinosaurs are extinct, do they? Throw $800 billion dollars at them. You will have yourself a damn Stegosaurus eating children in your back yard within a month. The money came and went and barely a blip came on the radar for most of us who were promised prosperity.

Some Democrats even suggested another stimulus as recently as a couple weeks ago. Stomping 12 year old girls have shown more restraint. How could anyone possibly entertain the thought of doing this experiment again? But I suppose we all deserve the insanity, since we voted in the current administration. All I am suggesting is that next time we spend this much money, there better be a kickass water park involved. In space.

So I guess you could say we spent all that money for nothing? Speaking of which, he is some 80's magic for you, I have to go move a refrigerator.

The Top 11 of The Top 11

Only a blog as conceited, pompous, irrational and shamelessly self-promoting as The Top 11 would decide to honor its own top 11 posts. At least The Top 11 is honest about being all those things. Actually, this post is a tiny celebration of The Top 11's 1 year anniversary. The Top 11 has seen the first (half)black President elected, the national recession, gas prices, pirates, Olympics, and much much more. Here's hoping for more great years to come.

A quick 'thank you' to all six of you who read this blog. I only started this thing to get a lot of the crazy stuff in my head out so I could maybe fall asleep. A wonderful bonus of writing comes any time someone mentions that they liked a post. I am a simple person and all I really want is validation for my own lacking self-esteem. It means a lot to me that you people read it. It really does. So thank you. ~Martin

Picked as my own favorite posts, or posts people told me they liked, or posts that were on Digg, or posts that otherwise stood out, but in random order:

11. Sweater Vests
One interesting thing about having a blog or website is watching the traffic. Most traffic tools allow you to see where people came from to get to your blog. Most of the non-regular-reader traffic is from Google. I think every single day, at least 3 people hit this post because they are searching something about sweater vests. It's often a fashion question like "can I wear a sweater vest with a suit?" or "should you wear a sweater vest to a job interview?" The uncertainty around its use and the strange allure led to this favorite post.

10. Global Warming?
This post is short, but meaningful. Believe whatever you want about global warming. But please be intelligent enough to see that some people really are trying to stir up fear and make money off of the fact that the ever-changing climate is, in fact, changing. This is the story about me meeting what I perceive is one of those people: Al Gore.

9. Kid's Gotta Learn Sometime
This post marked the first time my wife asked me if I really feel the same way as what I write. So I said, "This one time. This one time I will let you ask about my affairs." Anyway, a lot of The Top 11 may make me seem like a heartless asshole. I am an asshole, but I also try to be entertaining when I write. So, I guess it's still murky.

8. Vatican, we have a problem
This was one of my few attempts at tackling a real issue that I had real emotions about in a semi-real way. It's not written professionally or anything, I am just saying I wasn't talking about spiders.

7. 8 Legs of Fury
Speaking of spiders. This chilling narrative is actually an homage to a running joke with my younger brother. Our parents' basement used to have huge spiders. Huge spiders that we joked were educated, organized and spoke with British accents. Our parents couldn't afford toys, you see. So we had to play with our imaginations.

6. Valentine's Gift Ideas
I don't know why, but some of these "zany" ideas just make me laugh. Probably because I find myself so damn funny. It's very sad.

5. Horrible Workout Attire
If you want to make fun of obese people but are worried about the blowback, simply put in some jokes!

4. Christmas Creep
This really is a problem. Christmas comes earlier and earlier each year. It's like Thanksgiving is just a day for "carb-ing up" so you will have energy to shop. This post was about fighting back, civil disobedience and keeping Christmas where it belongs: in December.

3. Yo, ho. A pirate's life
The Top 11 had a previous post which sort of honored those Somali pirates. Well, The Top 11 couldn't have been stuck with egg on its face when Obama decided the main course of action against the pirates should be...shooting them in the face. So, a fitting eulogy was given.

2. Board Games I dominate
When The Top 11 began, the idea was to have posts like this. Off-the-wall concepts for the usual top-10 list format you see for everything. I only hope this wasn't too nonsensical to be enjoyed by someone. I mean, I thought it was funny.

1. States out of the Union

Just like board games, this post was written in the original spirit. Just making lists of goofy concepts and trying to be funny. Too bad the blog turned all serious, went corporate and sold out, eh?

Thanks again for hanging with The Top 11 or just stopping by. If anyone out there has any favorite posts, just keep them to yourself and don't put anything in the comments as usual.

Going to Snap: The j.o.b.

Today's unlucky victim of the angry laser is the job. Few things have the ability to control, confuse, upset and demoralize us like our jobs. Granted, we continue to show up out of necessity, or habit, or a delusional hope that one day all of our work will matter in some way. A hope that often seems more feeble with each hour, shift and day that passes.

We will also direct some anger toward the people with careers. The people with vocations. Those people who had a calling to do this. Or just knew they were going to do that. Those smart assholes who went through grad school and made something of themselves. The gifted ones who work in exciting industries. The professional athletes, the actors and musicians. The rich. The famous. Screw those people.

This post is a small, meaningless gesture to all those in the cubicle cage. All the hurried lunch hour people. All the feet hurting or back hurting people. All the dealing with shitty customers people. All the jerk boss who was only promoted instead of you because of politics people.

For a brief moment, a quick nod to those who feel stuck. Those who know too much about dead ends and rat races and ladders leading nowhere. Yeah, yeah. We can change it. If only we had the time. We can go back to school. We can update the resume and send it out there. No, we haven't checked Monster yet. It's on the list. We'll get to it.

Some day we'll go find something better. Some day we'll have the energy or the time to finish school, or get a better degree, or send out a resume. But for now, we have to get back to work. At the job we often hate. It's enough to make you snap.

Going to Snap: Doggy Doo

Since today's episode of Going to Snap is going to feature things being shit on, allow me to take this opportunity to wish all the dads out there a Happy Father's Day. Sure, mothers do plenty of work around the house (and shove 8 pounds humans through their crotch, we know, we know) and keep all the noses clean, but that doesn't mean dads are strangers to sacrifice. Here is a knowing, silent nod of recognition to all the quiet soldiers out there. All the dads. The men. The house fixers. The creature killers. The lift heavy thingers. The protectors. The bad cops. Go ahead and grab the drumstick, Dad. You deserve it.

One of the domains which usually belongs to Pops is the yard. Along with the garage, and potentially a secured sector of the basement, the grass is usually Dad's responsibility. Sure, mom has her flowers and vegetables. But we are referring to the rolling prairies of green. The endless waves of soft blades that tickle your feet in the summertime as you eat a Popsicle while running through a sprinkle and chasing after fireflies on your way to grab a hot dog off the grill after you just got out of a swimming pool that cooled you off after getting hot at your little league game. You know, the yard. Dad spends lots of time manicuring and fertilizing. Mowing and trimming. Standing and admiring. Chest puffing and patting self on back.

You may not have a large piece of Earth. But the key is usually that it's your piece of Earth. No matter what happens in this country, you can still stand firmly planted near the border of your own property and if an intruder crosses that line, you can still stick a shotgun in their face and say "get off my lawn." Sorry, they kept playing that commercial for Gran Torino coming out on DVD all weekend.

The yard is yours. It may not be the greenest or the lushest, but it's yours. All you ask is that God gives you a little rain here and there and that some asshole neighbor who you have yet to catch stops letting their dog take a shit on it in the same place every time, two feet above the park strip, right by the knockout roses. I will go ahead and hop into first person and call this despicable human being out. To whoever lets their dog shit in my yard on a routine basis and doesn't scoop it:

It seems a little backward to call this person out in The Top 11. First of all, someone who lacks any shred of human dignity is not likely to be able to read. On the off chance this person is literate, I can't imagine him or her being the kind of astute and good-looking patron we see so often at The Top 11. But still, just, why? Why do you leave your dog's fecal creations in my yard? Are you really that lazy? No one likes to scoop dog poop, but it sort of goes with the territory of owning a fucking pet. One would like to believe that a grown person would grasp that concept. It's like the classic situation of parents telling the child they can have a pet when they learn to care for it. So perhaps you are a child? That can't be right. This crime routinely goes down in the early morning. Kids aren't up early. Hell, kids don't walk the damn dog anyway. So I guess your dumb parents just didn't have time to teach you about manners and pet ownership, then? Maybe your dad was too busy being a garbage man to spend time with you? Well, that can't be, because surely a man who removes garbage from people's yards would have taught his child to do the same, if nothing else. I guess the learnin' was your momma's job then? Well, let's face it. If your mom couldn't teach you to clean up after taking a shit, it's because she was too busy being a cheap prostitute. Only a woman with such low morals could justify bearing a child who sullies another man's yard and then walks away like a coward.

Unless I actually see a stray dog take a crap in the predetermined "drop zone", I will cast all blame on the owner. While I confess to have entertained sick fantasies of slaughtering this puppy, in the end, it's an animal. It's unlikely the dog knows any better, and if he doesn't hear a rebuke from the owner, why would he stop doing it? Besides, I like dogs. This is all on Fido's master. And it's going to get ugly. Cameras have been installed. Motion sensors activated. Secret neighborhood watch partners have been alerted. We are at mustard level 14 (those in the brotherhood know what this means). I hope this person enjoyed the free doggie toilet up until now. Because this is going to stop. Whether it's good, bad, or well, you get the idea.

What are you trying to prove, NASA?

These damn kids and their spaceships. Once again, NASA somehow dodges the Congressional red pen and continues to exist. Why is this two bit outfit allowed to remain? Haven't we all had enough of their cutesy "let's look at spaaaaace" bullcrap? As if right on cue, NASA sends off its yearly taxpayer funded rocket ship into the great oblivion and beyond. What are we trying to accomplish here, NASA? Oh, we are sending someone to the moon again? That's cool. What's that you say? There are no people on this rocket? Hmm. Soooo...why do we keep paying you?

Let's see here. In the past 40 years you have gone from sending a human being to the moon (*cough*allegedly*cough*) to sending an...unmanned craft to the moon? Forgive me for holding back my raucous applause, NASA. You have taken 40 years and countless taxpayers dollars and burnt them up in that ridiculous pollution machine you call a space shuttle along with some rockets? Have you really nothing else to show for all your efforts? What, your billions of dollars gave us some moon rocks and this poster:

We won't even mention the fact that two of your priceless little toys happened to explode in fireballs of failure (with real people on them). What is the point?! Don't give me this crap about future discoveries. Don't feed me lies about unseen frontiers and new science. You can't even find oxygen up there, you aren't going to find the cure for cancer or an explanation for why girls don't really act like AXE body spray commercials. So stop trying! If all these nerds want to continue tinkering with chemistry and erector sets, fine. But can we scale the funding back a little bit? How about they each get a small office full of science toys in Branson, Missouri instead of a multi-billion dollar futility complex in Florida. Oh, and one in Texas. Oh, and rocket ships.

Going to the moon, NASA? You disgust me. We went there 40 years ago. What else is on your agenda? Pick up a Beatles album on your way home from protesting Vietnam? What a joke. And this particular mission is to forage around the Moon's surface for landing sites and frozen water?! Well the hell is frozen water? I don't understand your scientific mumbo jumbo. (checking Google...) Wait wait wait. ICE?!?!?!?!?!?! We are spending millions of dollars so you can find ice...on...the...moon. Here's a thought. Let's bet those millions on the horsey races and I will get you some ice out of my freezer. Seriously. Whaddya want? Cubes? Crushed? I got it all.

Yet again, NASA is wasting our money. It may a drop in the bucket compared to the bazillions that Obama is creating with a wave of the magic wand, but it's the principle of the thing. We continue to send satellites and rockets and cameras and probes just so we can look at neat-o pictures. We continue to treat the UFO crowd like a bunch of tinfoil hat weirdos even though they are at least trying to discover something new. Looking for aliens may be crazy, but is it that much worse than looking for ice on a celestial body we already conquered 40 years ago?