I don't know what conspiracy has piqued theorists more in the last two decades - crop circles, or the Ewing Frozen Envelope. Then again, how would we know when the world of flattened wheat rarely intersects with that of the Association?

Notice I said "rarely," as opposed "never."

That's because...it finally has, with this stunning tribute to King Crab in the metropolis of Milford Center, Ohio. (Shockingly, the construction of this monument at Little Darby Creek does not appear to have come by way of the same royal decree that banished Braylon Edwards to the Meadowlands.)


More thought was placed into building this maze than in any of Mike Brown's "coaching" strategies.

I assume that the Crabs logo on LeBron's carbohydrate-loaded jersey is incomplete, for the purpose of conveniently changing it to whatever team he ends up with in the Free Agent Sweepstakes of 2010. Or something like that. I also assume that when extraterrestrials dp visit, they'll wonder why we live in a world where we haven't traveled to the moon since Cincinnati had a presence in the Association, but yet have enough time to assemble this.

Or maybe they'll wonder why Darnell "Lacktion" Jackson still awaits his own wheatfield shrine.

Labels: are these guys for real, Cleveland Cavaliers, Craboliers, funny, Lebron James, no freaking way

Stacy Elizabeth Beshear, eh? Yeah, right. Rearrange a few letters, add a couple more letters, and that name is simply an anagram for "Larry Bird." Talk about your bizarre and unexpected plot twists. Larry...why?

Ugly as a man. Uglier as a woman.
Well, at least now I understand why Larry, a lifelong Celtic, called Luke, a Laker, to wish him luck in this year's NBA Finals. Obsession makes you do crazy things sometimes.

Labels: Larry Bird, Luke Walton, no freaking way, stalking