‘Christ, What an Asshole’ Can Be Used to End Every Comic Strip

Communication designer Robert Sinclair has a theory that every single comic strip panel can be captioned with the words, “Christ, what an asshole,” and he’s right.

My apologies for the swearing.

I know, right?

Christ, what an asshole.

Via Radley Balko

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The Poops

The Poops is a chapter in the book Oh, Title! by author Daniel Donatelli.

Editor’s Note: “The Poops” is a chapter in the book of short stories Oh, Title! by author Daniel Donatelli, no relation, who is my brother. 

The weekend before I left for college was the first time I ever smoked weed. Because of how seriously I took baseball in my youth, and because of the then-depths of my profound Catholic-moral guilt, I just never had any interest in puffing the magic dragon.

But then high school ended, and I had one last summer of baseball—one last summer of trying to get a scholarship, to continue my athletic successes in college. But I didn’t get shit.

Baseball used to be my life. Everyone knew exactly where they could find me nine months out of the year: practicing, running, hitting with friends . . . whatever. It was the heartbeat of my adolescence.

Now picture this: I played for the best summer-league team in Cleveland. The best of the best northeast Ohio had to offer. We were cocky, talented, locally successful, and better than you or anyone else (at least from Ohio). Every season ended with a State Tournament in Youngstown OH—the most depressing place in America this side of anywhere else I’ve ever been—and the tournament after my senior year was particularly special, not only because we’d made it further than any other team I’d ever played for, but also because I knew it was the final season of my baseball career. And after a childhood of playing tournament baseball, it was particularly special for me to be pitching in the state-championship semifinal game.

The thing about tournament ball is that usually both teams’ aces face off in the semifinals because there’s no point in saving your best starter for a championship game you might not even make it to. And in fact I wrote about a similar situation in my novel Jibba And Jibba, but I needed to enhance the drama of the situation, so I had young Jibba, who was his team’s ace, pitch in the finals.

My defense is that JAJ is a sloppily written work of fiction, and this particular story is not (fictional, that is).

In front of dozens of scouts, my friends, my family, and a smattering of players from teams left behind who’d come to the game to give me a hard time (I’d been responsible for the defeat of a number of top teams in that, the greatest tournament I ever played in), I took the mound, and the game began.

Continue reading “The Poops”

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I Am on the Come To Your Senses Podcast with Carlos Jaime

Check out writer Joe Donatelli and actress Lauren Valentine on the Carlos Jaime podcast Come to Your Senses.

The always funny Carlos Jaime had me on episode 5 his Come to Your Senses podcast. It’s available on iTunes and here at the Comedy Podcast Network. We talked about Ohio, Italian stereotypes and the terrible, terrible TV shows that are coming out this fall.

I am the guest along with actress Lauren Valentine.

For the record, The Come to Your Senses podcast is much, much better than The Fort, far less masculine than Sports Sports Sports and much more sober and focused than The Second Column.

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ATM Rules for My Teen Daughter

Read this funny humor column about ATM rules by Julia McCloy.

Getting money from an ATM isn’t a social endeavor. It isn’t something you and your junior varsity volleyball friends do together for kicks. It isn’t something you and your friends would do without kicks. Let me be straight about ATMS: no kicks are involved at all.

Getting money from the ATM isn’t silly party fun time where everyone is trying too hard to be cool and you give your number to a drunk sophomore with a red mustache who tells you that you remind him of his parent’s dog “Sir Barks-A-Lot” because you drink water and dogs drink water. Because, first, it is illegal to get money from an ATM when you are drunk. And second, your ATM number is secret, and you shouldn’t give it to anyone. And third, it turns out I was mistaken, and it isn’t illegal to use an ATM to get money when you are drunk. I had ATMs confused with cars and, more specifically, I had it confused with your yellow Honda Del Sol.

Getting money out of an ATM isn’t like that vacation we took when you were in 8th grade where we went riding in a sightseeing bus tour to Graceland with a group of jovial middle-aged tourists from Dusseldorf and one of them yelled something that sounded to you like,”Hunka Hunka Heil Hitler.” Because, oh shit, was Elvis a Nazi or a Nazi sympathizer or even German? How do I explain that to an 8th grader? So I said “no, no you misheard that. They said ‘punka punka pile pitler.”’ Now you are almost an adult and it is time to have a serious talk, woman-to-woman, one that I imagine every mother tries to put off as long as possible: Elvis was a Nazi. That is why he died.

I probably don’t need to tell you that getting money out an ATM is not like a dance party where people are being taught how to Dougie and then pay it forward and teach someone else how to Dougie until finally the only person who doesn’t know how to Dougie is that college guy wearing a shirt that says “This is not a bald spot; it is the solar panel to my sex machine.” The biggest reason it is not like an ATM is that the line should move fast so there is no time to teach anyone how to do pretty much anything and especially not how to Dougie.  And furthermore, if there is a solar panel at the ATM, it will not be for a sex machine. And also I think that college guy was wearing that shirt ironically and that makes him almost as bad a Nazi Elvis. Who died.

Which brings me to my final point: Will you go get money out of the ATM for me while I wait here? I promise I won’t read your journal again.

Julia McCloy is the resident editorial drone for The Humor Columnist. Follow us on Twitter @thehumorcolumn.

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What a 2012 Ohio University football game looks like to someone who watched OU lose 5-0 to Utah State in 1994

I’ve been two Ohio University football games in 2012. I took photos to document how the game-day experience has changed since the 1990s.

Game day Ohio versus Norfolk State

I was a freshman at Ohio University in 1994, a season during which the Ohio University football team went winless. The first OU game I attended was a 5-0 loss to Utah State. True story: I got my ticket for free by buying a hamburger at Wendy’s on Court Street. Like idiots geniuses,  my friends and I continued to attend Ohio University football games all four years, and we were rewarded my senior year with an 8-3 team led by head coach Jim Grobe.

While I was a student, OU went a sad 18-28-1 in football (8-12-1 at home.) (The big joke was we were a drinking school with a football problem.) We snapped a 12-game losing streak at home against Illinois State my sophomore year. I stormed the field after the game as students tore down the goalpost, probably out of irony. The athletic department made a very big deal out of warning students not to do it again, and we readily obeyed, as OU didn’t win another home game for almost a year.

This semester I am living in Athens with my wife. More on that here and here. I’ve been to two home games this season, most recently against Norfolk State. I took a lot of photos to document the many ways the game-day experience has changed since the 1990s.

Here we go…

Continue reading “What a 2012 Ohio University football game looks like to someone who watched OU lose 5-0 to Utah State in 1994”

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