Friday Afternoon Fun Bag!

Greg Oden likes fruity drinks. He also really likes the statues.

Woot. Friday. I'm ready to kick ass.

First and foremost, we have a 1977 dunk contest. I wish that I had a video of me dunking set to some sweet music like the Iceman does.


A mash-up singalong inspired by "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." You know it has to be good.


This has be the most intense anti-dandruff commercial of all time. It makes me wish I had dandruff, so I could buy this product.


If you have to be in a commercial for a strip club, make the most of it.


I wish that I could be in the room every time someone talks to Roger Goodell about Martellus Bennett.


MGMT was featured in just about every single ski movie last year, for better or worse. This trailer is in the 'for better' file.


Ok. Finally. Medeival Times tonight. Yes.

The Ghost of Roy Hobbs Conquers the Internet

So yesterday we had a post about Marty B's world. As it happened, several other sports blogs had it, too. The first was the imitable Kissing Suzy Kolber. Now, if you follow that link, then click on the link for the hat tip, where does it take you?

RIGHT THE FUCK BACK HERE! YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT!

Anyways, since we have a paltry but lovable readership, and KSK has an enormous and hideously awful readership, things proliferated from there. With Leather picked it up, but if you follow THEIR hat tip, it'll take you where? That's right. Follow the yellow trick road, muhfuckas. Finally, Deadspin got it. That chain's a little harder to follow, but it's root is all here.

The Big Lead will probably have something on this next week. And they'll claim that they found it. That's how those knobslobberers roll.

This is the only blog you should ever read. Top o' the world, ma!

WWMBD?

Icehouse's favorite Cowboy, Martellus Bennett, is now a blogger for the Dallas Morning News.

Because if your newspaper is firing everyone else, you give Martellus a podium to spout his insanity.

Thank you, God.

These blogs also answer the question, "What happens if you're forced to spend every waking hour with John Garrett?"

The answer? You lose your fucking mind.