Report: Blue Edwards actually black

SALT LAKE CITY, Utah—A photograph from the early 1990s has surfaced revealing that onetime Utah Jazz forward Theodore “Blue” Edwards is actually black.

“Well, I’ll be,” said Jeff Hornacek, Edwards’s teammate during the 1994-95 season.

The monumental photo is published below. It shows Edwards being guarded by Los Angeles Lakers legend Earvin “Magic” Johnson, who continues to remain mum on the subject of Blue’s blackness—he refused to comment for our report.

On a different note related to this photo: it looks as though a falcon is about to land on Magic Johnson’s ass. Doesn’t it?

“Mister Salty” maker enters tobacco game with “Cancer Sticks”

NEW YORK—Nabisco Inc., the cookie and cracker maker that once created a line of pretzel with the name Mister Salty, has taken that brutally honest style a step further today with the announcement of the company’s new line of cigarettes: Cancer Sticks.

“We believe in being up front about what we’re putting into people’s bodies or the consequences of using our products,” said company spokesperson Patrick Thiele. “The Frito-Lay folks try to tell you that Rold Gold pretzels don’t have much salt, and people at R.J. Reynolds are telling you that cigarettes aren’t necessarily the cause of cancer.

“But here’s a breath of fresh air, so to speak: Our cigarettes are gonna kill you, just like our aptly-named line of pretzels will cause high blood pressure.”

Cancer Sticks will be composed of tobacco that has been fortified with 834 toxic chemicals. “We’re not sure where half of these chemicals come from, but we’re sure they’re not very healthy,” Thiele said.

There will be 25 Cancer Sticks to a pack, a move that combines ethics with fiscal responsibility. “We believe in giving our customer the most for his dollar,” Thiele said. “I figure we’re already giving our customers emphysema and bad breath, but people can buy Vantage smokes and say the same thing. We decided giving it to them in 25 doses as opposed to 20 would be a real hook.”

While Philip Morris has the Marlboro Man, Nabisco has unveiled Deathbed David to pitch its cigarettes. “Double D” will be placed on the front of each pack and carton of Cancer Sticks, and will be used in magazine and billboard advertising in 46 states and most provinces in Canada.

Deathbed David is shown lying in a hospital bed, being fed through an IV and monitored by machines. He is smoking a Cancer Stick through a hole in his throat, the former location of his larynx.

“Once again, no bullshit here,” Thiele said. “We could have used a ‘Don Draper/Mad Men’ kind of character, a dashing stud who smokes at parties while scoping out his next extramarital affair, but we’re fans of the blunt truth, not Golden Globe–winning drama.

“Life ain’t no goddamn Salem ad,” Thiele added.

The logo seems to be a hit with people of all ages, if early focus groups are any indication.

“It’s comforting in a way,” said Alva Hemingston, an 58-year-old resident of Queens, N.Y., who speaks with the assistance of a resonating machine. “Since I wasn’t consulted on the design of the logo, it is obvious that I am not the only person who has a throat hole.

“All this time I thought I was the only person dumb enough to smoke to the point that resulted in the necessity of an unnatural orifice. I’ll be using Cancer Sticks for at least the next two weeks, assuming I live that long.”

Kids also find Deathbed David to be inspirational. “I read in Entertainment Weekly that Deathbed David is 83 years old and started smoking when he was 6,” said Justin Pomeran, a 12-year-old sixth grader at Franklin Pierce Middle School in Albany, N.Y. “I started when I was 10, so using Deathbed David logic, I should live to be at least 87—so long as I don’t eat too many Mister Salty pretzels.”

“Suckfest ‘08″ accurate rather than ironic

GRINNELL, Iowa—After two days of ear-splitting noise performed under the guise of “music,” consensus was reached by Grinnell College students, faculty, and staffers that Suckfest ‘08, a festival staged to welcome people back to the Grinnell campus, indeed was a fest with suck aplenty.

“I know the organizers probably thought it was totally ironic and/or cool to call this thing ‘Suckfest,’ but instead they look like visionaries,” said Grinnell junior Blake Anders. “It did truly suck farts.”

The event, which was staged on a green area in the heart of campus, featured myriad local musicians with very little songwriting ability, stage presence, or anything remotely resembling rhythm; and performance artists who often took the stage with household appliances or “found goods” to deliver their messages.

On Saturday, the festival’s opening day, no fewer than 18 area bands polluted the stage with tuneless ditties, which served as little more than transitional pieces between on-stage rants about “how the government is a bunch of fuckers, man” and how “it was bullshit that the Subway over there [gesture made in a general east-northeast direction] won’t accept the fuckin’ Subway Club stamps that I found in some dude’s glove compartment.”

Sunday wasn’t much better. After a so-so a cappella performance from a guy claiming to be the son of sound-effects guru Michael Winslow, the bill quickly went downhill. One performer clipped his fingernails and toenails, and then proceeded to auction them off as samples of his genetic makeup (the winning bid was eight Subway Club stamps); another performer lay down on a Casio keyboard and took a 35-minute nap. Jerome Gannt spent 16 minutes opening canned goods and dumping the contents on his head; Andy Andrews stared at a shoe he found on a nearby road, intermittently yelling “I’ve got sole!”

Legendary Grinnell-area noise rockers Church Wine Hangover closed the festival with a bunch of sucky songs.

Grinnell faculty member Terrance Moody had a theory on why the festival would choose a name with negative connotations, other than for the sake of accuracy.

“It’s like when African-Americans use the N-word as a pronoun for themselves and their like-skinned peers,” Moody said. “It disempowers the people who were going to use this term in derogatory fashion. The funny thing is, I don’t think it worked for the Suckfest ‘08 people—I’m still telling all of my students how sucky this piece of shit festival was.”

Jeremiah Sloan, chair of the Suckfest ‘08 planning committee, is undeterred. In fact, he said Suckfest ‘09 is already in the works.

“It’s not my fault that some people just don’t get art,” Sloan said. “Fuckin’ townies.”

Anti-drug message foiled by pro-drug acronym

NEW HAMPTON, Iowa—Parents were up in arms Friday in the wake of a botched anti-drug campaign launched by New Hampton High School principal Gregory A. Youngblood.

“The saying is ‘those who can, do; those who can’t, teach,’” ranted Bruce Monson, a parent of two NHHS students. “The rest of the saying must be ‘those who don’t know their elbow from their asshole grow up to become fucking principals.’”

To usher in the school year, Youngblood conceptualized a program that would encourage New Hampton High teens to just say no to various illegal drugs. Youngblood rolled out the campaign during Monday’s first-day-of-school pep rally to lackluster response, until someone noticed the ironic acronym.

“So Principal Numbnuts is going on and on about us not getting high or whatever, and he drops this lame-ass slogan on us: Get Rid Of Weed, Downers, Opiates, PCP, Ecstacy,” says senior Lance Billings. “So a bunch of us are snickering, rolling our eyes, what have you, and then it hits me: Dude, he’s telling us to G.R.O.W.D.O.P.E.

“I immediately volunteered to chair the campaign’s marketing committee,” Billings said. “We had t-shirts by Thursday!”

The anti-/pro-drug campaign unofficial t-shirt.

On Friday, students donned their new shirts, which beared the slogan, “Principal Youngblood says G.R.O.W.D.O.P.E.!” with the campaign’s full name spelled out in microscopic type. The preshrunk T is black with white writing, and ranges in sizes from XS to XXXL, so as not to exclude anyone aside from the hardcore bulimics and the morbidly obese.

“They have their own set of problems,” Billings says. “They can G.R.O.W.D.O.P.E. once they stop eating and/or puking up every calorie in sight.”

When Youngblood saw the parade of G.R.O.W.D.O.P.E. t-shirts in the halls of New Hampton High, he realized that the weeklong frenzy over the campaign probably had more to do with the unfortunate acronym than any real desire to be free of mind-altering substances.

“And now I feel a little silly about funding the students’ t-shirt initiative,” Youngblood said sheepishly. “Oh well. I would have misspent the money earmarked for the faculty incentive program at some point anyway.”

Speaking of teachers, they, as usual, were among the last to pick up on the simmering controversy. While a couple of staffers tried in vain Friday to get the students to take off the simultaneously anti-drug/pro-drug apparel, most of the faculty just shrugged.

“First off, I was asleep during that pep rally, so there’s a strike against me,” said Harvey Coors, an upper-level mathematics teacher and junior varsity girls’ basketball coach. “Second, I’m a math guy, so I’m not sure an in-house quality check under my watch would have sniffed out the acronym. That’s more of a wordsmithing kind of thing.

“Third, they don’t pay me shit, so what, I’m supposed to care all of a sudden?”

Some students have been down this road before. New Hampton junior Steve Hardcastle was on the school’s quiz bowl team last year, which was coached by Principal Youngblood. In what was meant to be a team-building exercise, Youngblood suggested they get away from the boring title of “Quiz Bowl Team” and go with something punchier.

“At first we were on board—we were thinking it would be cool to go to competitions known as the Academic Dominance Squad,” says Hardcastle, who stressed he will not be on the team this year, college résumé be damned. “Kinda sweet, right? But then Youngblood decided to put his touch on it, and you could say this was the, um, initial problem.”

Youngblood thought it would somehow be cool to be called the Whimsical Academic Dominance Squad—”Don’t ask me why,” Hardcastle quipped—and then, because he was the coach and often the supplier of meals on competition trips, he wanted his handle attached to the squad’s name.

“So yes, the team became ‘Gregory A. Youngblood’s Whimsical Academic Dominance Squad,’” Hardcastle sighed. “It was hard enough to get halfway cool kids to join, much less impress the hot chicks, before we became the ‘GAYWADS.’”

Despite chart-topping plea, Glass Tiger forgotten

NEWMARKET, Ontario—The Canadian band Glass Tiger’s worst fears have become a reality: despite pleading for fans to not forget the five musicians when they’re gone, most people do not recall the band’s existence.

The average music fan was unable to identify the band by name when played a snippet of “Don’t Forget Me (When I’m Gone),” even though Glass Tiger topped the charts with that song, and collected a grand total of five Juno Awards (whatever those might be) in the mid-1980s.

“Um, um, Bryan Adams!” guessed Susie Brinks, 36, who identified herself as a true fan of Canadian pop and was wearing a Corey Hart “World Tour ‘87″ t-shirt at the time of the on-the-street interview. “I’d never forget that. I had a huge crush on him…and Howard Jones, if you want full disclosure.”

Although Adams did sing backup vocals on “Don’t Forget Me,” it seems fair to say that Brinks had indeed forgotten Glass Tiger, as she confessed when the answer was revealed.

“Who?” she asked.

In other results:

• 42-year-old Jake Rima thought the tune was sung by White Lion, which delivered winning tunes such as “Wait” and “When the Children Cry” during the late 1980s. “At least I was in the same realm of the animal kingdom,” Rima said.
• Jenny Timcook, 26, said that as a young girl, she and the neighborhood kids would give “air band” performances of this song and others such as the Bangles’ “Walk Like an Egyptian” and Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know?” When pressed for the band who sang the song, Timcook replied, “As far as I’m concerned, that song will always belong to ‘Jenny and the Leg Warmers.’”
• Stephen Kimm, 33, punched the interviewer in the face and was charged with simple assault.

Members of Glass Tiger were to be contacted for comment, but Swinging for the Downs reporters forgot their phone numbers.

And in a related story, Brit-rockers The Outfield have lost your love. Sources indicate that the band did not want to lose your love, but Josie is back home from that vacation far away.

Confused McCain names Rosie Ruiz as running mate

WASHINGTON—A clearly fatigued John McCain shocked the entire political spectrum today when he announced that he was leaning toward Rosie Ruiz as his running mate.

“At my age, I shouldn’t be running down the street, much less for president,” McCain snarled. “But people keep asking me, ‘Who’s your running mate going to be?’ ‘Who do you want to run with?’ I figured I should pick another person who really doesn’t like running long distances.”

Rosie Ruiz running in the 1980 Boston Marathon. (AP photo)

Ruiz gained infamy in 1980—McCain was approximately 88 years old at the time—when she slipped out of the crowds at the Boston Marathon beyond the 25th mile point and sprinted to an apparent victory in record time. The hoax unraveled over the course of the following eight days, and she was stripped of her title.

“A lot of what I could learn from running with Señora Ruiz could translate well in this whole presidential contest,” McCain said. “If I could somehow appear to be the winner on ‘race day,’ the ball would be in the Supreme Court’s hands, and we all saw how that worked out for the GOP eight years ago.”

McCain punctuated his comment with a fist pump and a subsequent grimace.

Conservative talk radio hosts were livid with the choice, saying that fellow assholes in the GOP voting bloc would have a hard time accepting a woman who is also of Latin American descent.

“If McCain doesn’t understand that ‘running mate’ isn’t to be taken literally, the least he could do is pick Zola Budd,” said Mike Peebles, a Sean Hannity wannabe and host of “Right On!” on KDIK-AM690 in Iowa City. “At least Budd has a history of tripping up American heroes. Perhaps McCain could get Zola to pull a Mary Decker on Barack Obama.”

McCain backers hope McCain realizes the term “running mate” is simply a synonym for “vice president candidate” and chooses someone that can appeal to social conservatives.

“Let’s just pretend President Bush came up with the Ruiz idea, and move past it,” said McCain supporter Rich Summers. “Everyone would buy that.”

“But let’s not call the idea completely without merit,” interjected fellow McCain follower Steve Beach. “Ruiz is still a better pick than [Joe] Lieberman.”

Woman dies trying to hide lawn darts from grandkids

CHARLES CITY—Joanie Hager, 53, fell to her death Monday while attempting to haul a box of lawn darts (also known as Jarts) from her garage to the attic in anticipation of a visit from her grandsons.

Hager apparently lost her footing while ascending the attic ladder, crashing to the hardwood floor below. She died instantly.

“Apparently, one of the circular tubes that is used to create the ‘bullseye’ snaked its way out of the box, looped around her foot, and caused the tumble,” said Charles City police officer Jake Stephens. “It’s a shame this family hadn’t yet transitioned over to Baggo for their lawn toss tomfoolery.”

Hager was found by her daughter, Connie Lance, who was bringing her two boys, Jeffrey and Alex, over for a visit.

“Why would she bother hiding those things?” Lance said between sobs. “She knows these lazy lugs [gestures at her kids] never set foot outside the house, other than to get to somebody else’s TV, video game system, or computer.”

Jarts, which have been banned from sale in the United States since 1988, have caused deaths in the past, but none since 1997. The Hagers had bought the Jarts set back in the early ’80s, but according to Lance, the set hadn’t been used since her brother, Greg “Cyclops” Hager, was injured in a heated Jarts match during a neighborhood block party in 1985.

Stephens said that although a single Jart was found jutting out of Joanie Hager’s left shoulder, the puncture certainly had nothing to do with the multiple fractures and myriad internal injuries that quickly sealed her fate.

“No, the fact that Mrs. Hager was found to have a Jart lodged in her upper torso was nothing more than irony,” Stephens said. “Or would that be coincidence? Or symbolism of some sort? Shit, I dunno.”

Kitna: Thanks for the backhanded compliments

AP/Duane Burleson

DETROIT—Lions starting quarterback Jon Kitna has been hearing the preseason buzz that has flooded sports talk radio and television outlets such as ESPN and Fox Sports, most of which reluctantly identifies him as the best quarterback in the signal caller–challenged NFC North Division.

The halfhearted praise, which is usually accompanied by smirks, chuckles, and utterances such as “No, I mean it!” or “Well, maybe Tarvar–no, I’ll go with Kitna,” has prompted a one-word response from the pride of the Lions:

Thanks.

“Seriously, it’s nice to be talked about in these pseudo-pleasantries and ‘least of four evils’ sentiments,” Kitna said, adding that “my receivers and coaches are dumb enough to believe some of it, which is good for me, bad for Drew Stanton.”

With an unproven Aaron Rodgers, an erratic Tarvaris Jackson, and the Kyle Orton/Rex Grossman circus as his peer group, Kitna has a pretty easy stay atop the NFC North QB food chain. As most observers see it, he simply needs to put on his uniform correctly, master the center-quarterback exchange four times out of five, and throw the ball way up high (a la Jeff Blake) so stud receivers Roy Williams and Calvin Johnson can make plays.

Kitna seems to have a full grasp of the backhanded compliment, as a recent comment showed.

“To hear guys filling weekend graveyard shift minutes on ESPNews singing my praises, or the fifth-string Fox Sports Radio guy give me a slight edge over that fragile, unproven guy in Green Bay, that means the world to me,” Kitna said. “It almost makes me want to refuse my salary, which, if you must know, is exponentially higher than the salaries of the people who are showering me with praise and chuckles.”

Denmark hopes other nations didn’t “let them” get a bronze

BEIJING — With zero medals to its name heading into Thursday’s competition at the 2008 Olympic Games, Denmark is hoping its bronze-medal showing in the equestrian team dressage event wasn’t some sort of sympathy thing where other nations “let them win” something.

“The older kids in my neighborhood would pull shit like that on me when we’d play [soccer],” said Denmark resident Jenna Loov as she watched the Danish team stand on the lowest of the medal stand’s three tiers. “They’d all just stand there and encourage me to kick the ball into the goal, all the while not playing any defense. 

“I want to believe our team dressage bronze was earned,” Loov continued. “These are the Olympic Games, not some kid’s birthday party where you let the birthday girl win the game of musical chairs. I know all about that, and the scars that go with an empty accomplishment.”

The team from the United States, which as of this posting led all nations in overall medals with 43, finished fourth in the team dressage event. When asked about the possibility that the Americans figured one fewer tally in the bronze column was no big deal, the team members responded in unison, “USA! USA! USA!”

“We try to dominate on the world stage, whether it’s men’s basketball, that Phelps guy, or team dressage,” said American equestrian fan Jayson Tedford, who has been to six consecutive Olympiads to cheer on the American horsemen and -women. “Still, it was kinda neat to see Denmark’s flag finally get raised. Although someone should have ironed it — you could totally see the creases from how long it had been folded up.”

Bonds carefully scans transactions column

SAN FRANCISCO — Barry Bonds, Major League Baseball’s reigning home run king, has made a daily habit of checking the transactions column in the sports section of the San Francisco Chronicle, just in case one of the 30 big-league clubs has decided to give him a chance to play during the playoff push of 2008.

Despite his phone’s silence during spring training and the regular season, Bonds is hopeful that one day he will open the paper and see that he has a new job, even if it’s not for a team in a pennant race.

“I mean, come on, [Gary] Sheffield has a job,” Bonds says. “If [Detroit Tigers manager Jim] Leyland wants an asshole on the roster, they might as well have one who hits better than .229, right?”

Bonds’ fine-print vigil has yielded one case of mistaken identity along with a false alarm:

• In late April, Bonds noticed under the American League heading, the Texas Rangers had recalled what appeared to be “Barry Bonds” from the Oklahoma RedHawks. It turned out it was “Brandon Boggs”; Bonds attributed the mistake to vision fatigue due to years of media scrutiny.
• On July 28, a “dickhead jock sniffer in the Chronicle sports office” (to quote Bonds) inserted an item in the transactions listings stating that Bonds had been signed by the National League’s Montreal Expos. A red-eye flight to Quebec led Bonds to discover the team no longer resided in Montreal, and the franchise, under the new identity of the Washington Nationals, informed Bonds that the team appreciated his subsequent visit to D.C., but “didn’t want to disrupt team chemistry.”

When asked why Bonds was relying on what newsies commonly call the “agate page” to deliver word of potential MLB work — as opposed to a phone call from an agent or GM — Bonds blamed it on the media, and the fact that his people skills suck farts.