The New Sports Sweeping the Nation!

And by that I mean I haven't heard of it before and people are doing it.

It would appear that the playingfield of the mind is bringing us new ideas for revolutionary sports. Why, just a post or two ago, our own Joe Reefer wrote a column about his invented sport, Futball. Also, a few years ago Hunter S. Thompson and Bill Murray spoke about the new sport known only as Shotgun Golf.

These new sports are hybrids of other sports, and this next sport is no different. It's Underwater Hockey. It's essentially like hockey, except people wear swim gear and probably have MORE of a chance of killing themselves in the process of the game. Or so I would assume.

Whyin Oregon? Why the hell not?! Besides, around here we have a lot of water, and it almost never gets cold enough to freeze (and as such, playing hockey doesn't really happen around here). And who uses the public pools in the winter? Nobody! (I don't actually know this for a fact; I just know that I don't).

Unlike these other two sports, I don't know who invented it or why they were particularly intrigued with the idea. Still, it's worth mentioning. You may think I'm crazy now, but just wait until your little kid goes off to play Underwater Hockey during basketball season and Shotgun Golf in the summer.

Holy shit! It seems that in the minor amount of research I've done, I've found that this is not, in fact, a new sport. Apparently it's been around since the 1950s (I got this info from Wikipedia, so I KNOW it's true!). Still, this is pretty strange.

We Can't Stop Here! This Is Bat Country!

I would have imagined yesterday that the highlight of my day would've been seeing the Flaming Lips live (a full review is forthcoming, but in a word: freakin' awesome), but somehow something much crazier than dancing Santas and Martians throwing confetti at me happened. What I will now describe is the absolute truth, and has not been embellished in any shape or form. Because that would be lying, and lying is wrong.


I was in the den, preparing to watch the rest of "The Colbert Report" before I went to bed. I was just settling into the couch, when out of the corner of my eye I saw something fluttering in the kitchen. At first I thought it was a dragonfly or something similar, but I realized it was much too large. I got up slowly to take a more careful look, when I was shocked to see that I had a goddamn bat in my kitchen, going absolutely apeshit. I slammed the door to the den, and paused to collect myself. After a few moments' consideration, I decided that my first best action was to text message a presumably-sleeping Joe Reefer as to my predicament. After all, what the hell kind of sane person is still awake at 2 am?

There's a bat in the house. It has scared the shit out of me.

I then decided at some point I had to confront the threat head-on, mainly because I didn't feel like sleeping in the den. So I came up with a plan to try and guide the bat outside through the door in the kitchen. At my disposal was the only thing at hand, a pillow. This was not really a helpful thing, but I felt better covering up my face with it as I prepared to combat the flying verminrodent. I then slowly made my way into the kitchen, inching along the wall and attempting to exeunt the bat through the door to the garage. That did not work, as the bat didn't fly into that direction. So I switched strategies on the fly, moving along to the door to the deck on the other side of the kitchen, pausing several times as the bat divebombed its way towards me on several occasions.

After multiple unsuccessful attempts to prop the safetybar up, I finally was able to open the door. I yelled at the bat, Get OUT, thinking that English was of course the bat's natural language. Meanwhile, my cat Rambo decided that now was the perfect time to come into the house, and he ducks on in. After the bat does another couple of loops through the room, Rambo JUMPS UP and knocks the bat down. I paused, concerned for my cat's well-being, and slowly make my way over to check on him. I then see my cat happily finishing up eating the bat. And you know what? All he wanted in return was a bellyrub and to sleep on my bed. I complied.

I relayed the information to Joe Reefer, and he responds the next morning with a brilliant summation of the entire episode:

Holy crap! Rambo is a badass

Yes, indeed he is.

The Summer of Corruption

This is another name for the short story "Apt. Pupil" by Stephen King. It is in a compilation of shorts called "Different Seasons." (This also includes "The Body" which became the film "Stand By Me" and "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption.")

Some may question why I've brought this up on the report, and honestly I'm not sure why either. It isn't a book that I've read recently (that would be "The Rum Diary" by Hunter S. Thompson (Kudos to anyone who knows what the "S" stands for)) nor is it my favorite story/collection of stories. For whatever reason it came into my head as I was looking over the report and I suggest it for summer reading.

As for music, I think it would be wise of reader (who haven't already done so) to throw some Spoon on the turntable and give it a spin. Also, check out Peaches. I haven't heard much of her stuff, but I must say that what I have heard is some good shit. And of course Nine Inch Nails and Pearl Jam are always good choices too.

For people looking for a slightly different musical experience, check out the Cajun band Beausoleil (you should know it isn't pronounced the way it looks, of course). It's fun and French goes well with steamed crawfish. Enjoy.