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Page 2 (Brian L.) -- Although it's sort of like throwing a New Year's party on January 2nd, here's a brilliant Madden petition, albeit one day late. To make up for this missed opportunity, I offer a timely heads up on the impending Tara Reid train wreck ( (Matt D.). -- And now a warning to all of you closing in on your thirtieth consecutive hour of Madden. Of course, none of you are actually reading this -- otherwise you wouldn't need the warning. Carry on. (Sunday; registration required) -- Besides being a pompous judge who isn't the least bit funny, a daily dose of 'Nique to keep me sane, and Hawks co-owner Steve Belkin being revealed as a Donald Sterling wannabe, this link contains my favorite picture of the year -- a principled Billy Knight refusing to shake hands with the phony Belkin. For what it's worth, I believe in you now, Billy. I really do. -- High school cheerleaders use a chant to help police catch hit and run suspect. Unfortunately, the routine turns out to have been stolen from their inner-city rivals. Dance off ensues.

(And yes, I just made a "Bring It On" joke) (Jeff N.) -- For those looking to take Simmons up on the book suggestion, here's a site owned by eBay that eliminates the bidding process.

Speaking of the book club, there will be a signed photo of Simmons for all charter members. We're currently debating between two different angles.

Option A: the Hasselhoff route (

Option B: the Ha route (

I'll update everyone once we decide on which direction to go with the photo.

My fashion sense, much like my sense of direction, is completely nonexistent. I used to dismiss it as apathy, but I've slowly realized that I'm actually incapable of assembling a wardrobe. If I had to describe my style, I'd probably go with "refined hobo."

With that in mind, I spent this past weekend visiting friends in Los Angeles. The particular friend I was staying with used to be just like me -- utterly clueless and indifferent to clothing fashion. But a few years in California, and now he has a trendy shirt for every occasion, always uses "product" in his hair, and seems to live exclusively on a ridiculous liquid diet of specialized smoothies, Ensure, and anything else that can be ingested through a straw. Basically, L.A. has swallowed him alive.

Using him as my frame of reference, I made it a point to pack the trendiest striped shirt I own. To make a long story short, I ditch the hobo dress and wear the shirt out on Friday night. We naturally wind up at some dive bar called "The Roost" where everyone is dressed down with casual indifference ... except for me, the idiot in the over-the-top striped shirt. I think I was set up. (Bryan M.) -- Statler and Waldorf (old guys in the balcony from "The Muppet Show") review movies online. Throw in the scene-stealing Swedish Chef, and you have nostalgic comedy at its finest. (Jon in NJ) -- The official Web site of the U.S. Air Guitar Championships. Is this unfathomably dumb? Of course. But I defy anyone to look at that picture on the left-hand side and then try to tell me those doofuses don't have heart. You can't.



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