The Fall TV lineup follows one simplistic line of thought: If a show is successful, why not create a spin-off? After all, audiences can never get enough of a mediocre thing, right? When “The Vampire Tweets” debuts next year (diaries are soo 20th century), don’t say you weren’t warned.

Frankly speaking, teen girls dont use diaries anymore.

Ass of Cakes. Reality show about the challenges of running an erotic bakery.

UpChuck. An everyman that the government experimented on who has the power to throw up on command. Call it a vom-com.

Jon and Kate Plus Hate. Focusing solely on the former couple’s tense relationship and not parenting troubles. After all, kids these days — what with their ipods and wiis — practically raise themselves.

So You Think You Can Dunce. Contestants compete to see who has the skills to sit silently in the corner of a classroom.

Condo. Due to a malpractice lawsuit and a pricey pill-popping habit, the doctor is forced to downsize his dwelling.

Really Mad Men. A period drama set in the 1960s about insane ad execs in a New York psych ward. When this group takes the Rorschach test, all they see are opportunities for sales. Smoking in a straight jacket never looked so stylish.

Alternative show: Madison Men. These guys have traded in life in the big city for greener pastures, literally. Watch as they put the ‘sin’ in “Wisconsin.” These cool characters are out to prove you can eat  big cheese and still be the big cheese.

Flowers (aka Petal Pusher). In this dark comedy, a struggling suburban widow decides to earn money operating a greenhouse on her property, which upsets some local florists.

Found. Stranded strangers band together after an Iowa bus crash in a drama where everything is easy to follow and makes perfect sense, because in the Midwest, foreshadowing and symbolism don’t exist.

String Theory. An intellectual comedy, both quirky and quark-y, for an advanced audience that wants to move beyond the big bang.

The Goulash. McHale gives way to Mikail, as Russian reality TV stars are mocked Moscow-style (i.e. throwing cabbage, insulting their ushanka, chess-related “your momma” jokes). It’s commie-dy at its finest.

Sasha Grey’s Anatomy. While their wives watch the weepy medical drama, men will occupy themselves by boning up on the body of this porn star — on TV instead of the internet, for a change.

Mainstream. Instead of investigating paranormal activity and scientific anomalies, this special government branch examines commonplace occurrences, such as why the dryer manages to lose socks regularly (is there a pattern?) and how that cat got stuck up Mrs. Johnson’s oak tree (probably a mutant, with ram and gorilla DNA).

J/K. A tween comedy about crime-solving boy who helps the police solve cases by claiming he can read minds, but — just kidding! — the only ability he has is to text rapidly (Tagline: Every hero needs a sidekick. His is a Sidekick.).

Parking and Wrecks. Comedies about mall cops were all the rage on the big screen, so TV will tackle the life of a smug traffic cop who consorts with employees in a nearby parking deck. You’ve got the green light…to laugh!

It’s come to my attention my posts have been a bit more caustic as of late. I’ve plotted doom on internet spammers, trolls and the like. I’ve suggested we recycle our broken down b-list persona like some poor man’s “Brave New World”. I’ve even cursed out my beloved video games, my life’s one true joy (pushing little kids into mud puddles is a close second). While my fury is certainly justified towards these lowly masses, I’d like to think my crunchy exterior belies a soft, nougat-like center. It’s still a bitter center, but gooey nevertheless.

To rectify such vitriol, I think it’s time to bring the love back to our dear little site. I’ve come to the realization that the targets of my assaults, though certainly warranting such, can still sometimes be pretty damn likable. In fact, I think if you’re fucking rock something hard enough, you can be as big of a dick as you want. I’d like to point out just a few example of such, whom I unhesitatingly love, for your own edification:

Over-competitive Prick
Michael Jordan, with a bullet, is the prime example of a sports star getting away with murder (no, OJ doesn’t count, as he’s not universally loved). When you’re on a team with Dennis Rodman and you’re still considered the biggest dickhead, that’s talent. A degenerate gambler (fueling rumors of his “year off” baseball/retirement stint) and vocal abuser of teammates, he could still inspire die hard fans of opposing teams to say “damn, at least we lost to true greatness like Jordan and the Bulls”.
Notably absent: Barry Bonds – I don’t care if you’ve got the record for the most home runs by any kind of technicality, your shit’s dirty and we know it. Fuck off.

Party Jackass
Joe Rogan is exactly the kind of asshole who would take a dump in someone’s shoes at a party, wait for him to notice, and say “Sorry bro, dunno how that got there!”. Despite how pissed he’d be, at some level you gotta appreciate someone for having the brass huevos to pull a stunt like that, but also because it wasn’t your shoes and it’s always funny if it’s not happening to you.
Notably absent: Andy Dick – It’s in his name for fuck’s sake. Getting coked out and acting like an ass doesn’t automatically give you super powers. Take note.

Smarmy Sleazebag
The reigning champion usually cycles pretty quickly, as tomorrow’s sketchiness quickly becomes yesterday’s old news. Charter member for this class has got to be Bill Clinton. Never has one bj done so much for (and against) the reputation of a man. Screw it, we had a good run with him in the presidency, right? No major wars, economy did pretty well, and people generally got along alright. Really there was only one question that plagued everyone: men asked “why Monica?” and women asked “why not me?”. Running the country and getting some, that’s what we call the American dream, folks.
Notably absent: Jimmy Carter (the complete opposite of Bill Clinton) – The man did little during his term to warrant any great acrimony, not to mention plays a key role in Habitat for Humanity, and people still hate him. That’s just impressive.

Fun fact, Bono’s sunglasses give him his powers much like the fabled Samson

Pretentious Rock Star Douche
One word: sunglasses. Not enough? How about over-pronounced Irish accent, nonsensical lyrics, and trying-too-hard-to-be-deep album names like “Joshua Tree”. Ok, now I’m giving it away. When you’re the lead singer in a band consisting of members such as “The Edge”, it’s pretty hard to see your way off that douchey pedestal. Oh, you work for humanitarian causes? Couldn’t tell by your years of parading it around. And yet that’s the power of a rock star. I can act like a complete douche and people will eat that shit up if I write some great songs.
Notably absent: Kanye West – You’re ripping off Bono’s sunglasses for one, posed as the son of God, and make claims that you’re the new King of Pop. Go fuck yourself.

Pompous Windbag
This one is definitely a personal pick, but my vote goes to Bill Simmons, aka the Sports Guy. Just like everyone on this list, I’m a big fan. I love his writing, he can make some insightful points about the world of sports, and has a near encyclopedic knowledge of 80′s movies. He can also be a prima donna about a lot of shit. He regularly mixes it up with irrelevant radio hosts in ass-backwards markets out west and other writers in the sports world. When you get Isiah Thomas, a thug through and through, to call you out in particular, that some magic right there.
Notably absent: Dan Brown – Your source material ain’t the problem. It’s your writing skills that rival a high school freshman’s diary. Buy a thesaurus or just die in a fire already. Preferably the latter.

Know-it-all Tech Asshole
Where would the mass cultists of Apple be without their leader Steve Jobs? If nothing else, deserves recognition here for making black turtlenecks popular. We get it, your products are white and shiny and they do neat things. It’s be nice if you didn’t gouge people for their life’s savings so they can check their mail in a Starbucks, though. There’s also his notorious “my way or the highway” attitude towards his employees, who he treats like they were IT employees who don’t know their ass from a PC. Minus the Newton, one button mouse, and 3 tries just to get copy-and-paste onto an iPhone, dude knows his shit (or at least how to market it).
Notably absent: Bill Gates – How can you be a billionaire several times over and still not be cool?

Comic Cocksucker
If there was one man you’d want to just rant and curse your ass out, I think it’d have to be George Carlin. Richard Pryor would have a chance at the title here, but he’s more of a “racists are idiots” ranter as opposed to the “You’re all diseased fuckheads” style popular with Carlin. But really, if he were to stare down your invalid grandmother, dropping his 7-dirty-words routine right in her face, you would applaud like a wind up chimpanzee. True genius is true genius, even if it’s coming from a spectacular asshole.
Notably absent: Carlos Mencia – That whole “I’m making fun of all races so it’s ok” bit only works if its your material.

The “Stop stealing all the women, you son of a bitch” Actor
You’re married, or have a significant other. You’re in love, you wouldn’t want to be unfaithful, and you’re in it for the long haul. That said, you play the “you’re allowed one freebie” game. It’s that one pass that, however unlikely, should they cross paths with said celebrity are allowed to jump said bones. Every dude immediately thinks “Well, if it was Sean Connery, I think I could live with that”. Why? Because it’s mother fucking James Bond, that’s why. The man did a Scottish accent for a Russian naval captain in Hunt for Red October, and made it believable. He taught the Highlander. He made Michael Bay’s “The Rock” an actually watchable movie! That merits something with the ladies. Maybe even a few dudes.
Notably absent:Matthew McConaughey – I don’t even like to look at women he’s talked to.

Looking back, I think I might have broken my own record for dropping f-bombs in a post. So much for bringing back the love.

I originally had a post I’ve been working on for the last week and a half, one I’d been really excited to finally put together, as it’s been rattling in the back of my head for a while. A post that had magic mixture of stupidity and insightfulness that some of my better posts have. Struck my funny bone, rang true in a few places, that sorta thing. Frankly, it was about being a douche. Popular ones, anyway.

Then, Kanye out-douched everyone in the world Sunday night (which, after Joe Wilson and Serena Williams is pretty tough). Well, fuck, that’s all everyone’s going to be talking about this week. I’ve seen 5 different “Excuse me one sec, I’ll let you finish but..” memes around the web today alone and I’m already sick of it. Plus, Marc did a better job yesterday than I could have.

Thankfully, I have my nerdiness to fall back on. Scribblenauts came out Tuesday, a DS game where you can create objects with a notepad to help you solve puzzles (minus offensive and copyrighted words). So, if I want Genghis Khan to attack a dolphin, so be it. Smartest sea mammal my ass.

I decided to jot down some of the words I played around with in game.

It’s like a Rorschach test for nerds.

“Homer”
Knew it wouldn’t work, but still. Suggested “Hoe Rammer”, which isn’t nearly what I was hoping for.

“Blob”, “Cyclops”, “Dracula”
They keep killing me. Damn, monsters are assholes. Summoned Cthulhu, fucked everyone up.

“Centaur”
Rode it around for a while. Centaur was a dude. Am I gay now? I just felt so safe in his arms…

“Mermaid”
Do something damnit! Make out with her, “ride” her around, something! Nope, guess I’m gay, the video game proved it.

“Robot”
He’s not making his own lunar lander. With blackjack! And hookers! In fact, forget the lunar lander/blackjack.Eh, screw the whole thing. Robots are fucking bullshit.

“Zombie”
This should’ve been first on my list. Hm, ok, next, “shotgun”. Shit, this ain’t working on the zombie…Ahh, he’s chewing on my head! Uh…”flamethrower”! Son of a bitch didn’t like that.

“Robot Zombie”
Holy shit, that worked! Robot then kicked his ass. Think I need to invest in robotics to secure our nation’s future.

“Eagle, Giant”
Giant immediately punches the Eagle to death. You see that Marc? Even in an imaginary world, the Eagles can’t win.

“Titmouse, booby, woodpecker”
teeheeheehee

“Taco”
This one’s courtesy of Emily. If ever given the choice of a super power, I’m pretty sure conjuring up tacos at will would be up there. That or God-like omnipotence, but using said omnipotence to procure tacos, so, yeah.

“Atheist, God”
Ha, the atheist freaked out after seeing God, ran in the other direction. So I gave him a gun. Atheist tried to kill God, so the big guy zapped him with lightning. Take that, evolution!

“Death”
Oh crap, Death just killed God. Guess the Atheist WAS right. So much for Catholic school. Save me Jeebus!

“Dingo, baby”
Wow, that dingo is going to town on those toddlers. Ok, had enough fun with these, tossing them in the trash. (Slight twinge of regret as I realized I just threw a baby in the garbage. I wasn’t ready to be a dad!)

Lemme know if you’ve got some more suggestions of crazy shit I should try.

Barack Obama, learning nothing whatsoever from opining on Gates’ arrest, reacted to Kanye West’s meltdown on MTV, calling him a “jackass.” Either that, or the President said his favorite show on the network was “Jackass.” Truthfully, we just skimmed the story.  In case the Commander-in-Chief didn’t get briefed on this, it’s unwise to wage a war of words with an emcee; it’s best not to put in your two cents on 50 Cent. Mr. President, just think of Kanye as Afghanistan — you don’t want to get any more involved than you already are.  Unless Joe Biden know how to beatbox, Obama is in trouble because the rapper has retaliated and once he incorporates auto-tune, this battle will be officially over.

Yo, Obama

Word to your white momma

I came to bring the drama

How come you ain’t found Osama?

Obama can handle Cornell West, but Kanye is another story.

Before you open your mouth to swear

How about getting us some health care?

What I did is over and done

So go diss Joe Wilson.

I’ve learned my lesson

You focus on ending the recession.

You’re half-black

And half-whack

Now get our troops out of Iraq.

Why you being so slow

Taking forever to close Gitmo?

How you gonna critique my style

When you ain’t putting those who tortured on trial?

Maybe I’m a doubting Thomas

But I don’t see all the jobs you promised.

It’s clear to me

You haven’t stimulated the economy

Unless you count GM and AIG.

I’m starting to think you’re scheming

Since the only brothers you’re down with are Lehman.

You say I’m a jackass

Not so fast

Ain’t a donkey the symbol of the Democrats?

Pictures like this are why I love the internet

I think I’ve finally snapped, though it may not be for the reasons you assume: 1) hearing one too many people compare “Are you smarter than a 5th grader?” to Jeopardy, 2) been sniffed by the creepy dude on my corner who “thinks I’m purty like a school boy” (though…flattering?) 3) debated for the umpteenth time with someone why Batman would beat Superman in a fight (he’s got Kryptonite brass knuckles, folks, and he’s fucking Batman. That’s your reason right there).

Nope, I’m afraid it’s the flood of unwanted spam I get on every site I turn to now. My Gmail account is inundated with messages about replica rolexes. I hit up Facebook and I see ads for gaming Google. I pop open my Twitter client only to get flooded with tweet spam (“speeted”, which is exactly as dirty as it sounds). While I could wait for “The Raptor” (which is much like “the rapture”, only velociraptor Jesus comes down and hunts down the wicked…and delicious), I think it’s only fair that I do my part in curtailing a threat that has no reason to stop and shows no signs of slowing.

I decided to keep a running journal as I prepared my hunt for said spammers. It’s either a testament of my last days on Earth if I don’t come back, or Exhibit A in my eventual trial should I succeed.

Day 1:
Spent 6 hours attempting to develop psychic powers, namely telekinesis, pyrokinesis, and telepathy. Gave up after concentrating so hard I managed to poop myself. Don’t think that’ll inspire much fear. Don’t have “gorilla-like throwing abilities” to channel said poop, either.

Day 2:
Watched Rambo, Predator, and Red Dawn. Can now make an explosive arrow out of some AOL cds, a motherboard and some ethernet cable. Ok, not so much an explosive arrow as “a bunch of shit duct taped together”. Still, I feel like MacGuyver.

Day 3:
Decided to invest in a muscle shirt and some disposable friends who will each be picked off one by one, forcing me later to avenge their deaths. If only there were a soulless corporation selling such at discounted prices…of course, Walmart!

Called up Walmart. Apparently “human lives are precious and what you’re talking about is barbaric”. What’s “barbaric” are your prices for a wife-beater, good sir. Scrapped both ideas.

Day 4:
Thought of an alternative: Flying down to Florida to pick up some old folks to use as decoys. Can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs.

Three hours later, 3 are asleep, 2 have wandered off and got lost, rest have soiled themselves. So far my plans have been nothing but pooping. Disconcerting.

Day 5:
Created a robot exoskeleton suit with which to do battle. Has several modes including “eviscerate”, “exenterate” and “dessicate”. Damned if I know what they do, but they sound flippin’ sweet.

Realized there’s no fucking way I’m getting this on a plane to travel with and I don’t own a big enough truck to transport it. Plus, everyone would think I’m “overcompensating” for something. Traded it with creepy corner guy outside my building for some “magic beans”. Amazed I haven’t been scammed by spammers before.

Day 6:
Corner guy is now “King of the Hobos”. Good for him!

As for myself, I stopped by White Castle and ordered 20 burgers. Hey, Rocky had his training diet of raw eggs, I’ve got mine. Magic beans also proved useless. They are neither musical nor a fruit. Stupid corner guy.

Day 7:
Thought of some ironic forms of punishment: feed captive spammer viagra with two playboy playmates just our of reach, forced to eat spam while watching Clay Aiken in Spamalot. Don’t know where I’ll find 2 playmates, don’t want to come in any sort of contact with Clay Aiken.

Day 8:
None of my planning has come to any fruition. Dunno how I’ll make it to Nigeria. Blending in might be a little tough too. Finally giving up and watching some TV. At least the most annoying ads there are only Billy Mays, and that problem’s already been taken care of. Too soon?

Put down the onion dip and prepare to call your bookie because Concentrated Awesome has some pigskin predictions for the upcoming NFL season. Since our tips are totally free, they may also be wildly inaccurate. Nonetheless, we’re confident that thanks to our expertise you’ll probably earn some money or at least wind up not completely crippled (still might be a good idea to put a wheelchair at the top of your X-Mas wish list.)

Philadelphia. All wins orchestrated by Michael Vick will be known as “Vicktories.” When he loses, he’ll have a hangdog expression on his face.

Dallas. The Cowboys spent $40 million on a scoreboard that hangs too low. Cialis will outbid Viagra to sponsor it. Tony Romo’s interceptions will look amazing and awful simultaneously on a 160 foot-tall screen.

New York/Indianapolis. In a mid-season poll, fans will vote that they would rather sees Eli and Peyton Manning take on the Williams’ sisters in Oreo-eating contests over and over than watch the Giants or Colts.

Washington. Owner Daniel Snyder will continue to act like a teenage girl — being in other people’s business talking shit and he spending money like the mint’s going to stop printing it tomorrow.

Minnesota. The Vikings will petition the league to officially change the sport’s name to “Favreball.”

Chicago. Jay Cutler is being hailed as a savior. Living up to the hype, at a post-game press conference, he will turns water into Coors Light (what do you mean they’re the same thing?).

Tampa Bay is in trouble. Depp trouble.

Detroit. President Obama will declare the Lions as eligible for the “Cash for Clunkers” program. Motor City fans will trade in the team for $10 apiece.

New Orleans. Reggie Bush will begin dating Jessica Simpsons, just so fans can blame him having a sub-par season on her afterwards. She will need to be reminded frequently that the “Big Easy” is a nickname for city, not her.

Tampa Bay. The Bucs will suc. Worse than the third “Pirates of the Carribean.” There will be a mutiny towards the end of the season and new coach Raheem Morris will be tossed into the Gulf of Mexico.

Arizona. Phoenix residents will complain that at the tender age of 38, Kurt Warner is too young to lead this team.

St. Louis. Stephen Jackson’s will reveal his dreadlocks are symbolic — they signify his “dread” of playing for the Rams.

Seattle. Fans will create popular T-shirts with the following phrase: “Don’t Hassle the Back of Hassleback.”

New England. Bill Belichick will go sleeveless this season. Tom Brady will reveal he was bred in a lab, from mannequin DNA.

Miami/San Diego. Fans in these cities won’t pay attention to the Dolphins or Chargers until December, because, hey, they live in Miami/San Diego, not God-forsaken Buffalo or Cleveland.

Denver. Brandon Marshall will display a new level of wide receiver crazy — by painting a face on a football, calling it Mr. Sammy Seamhead Jr., and directing all questions during interviews to Mr. Seamhead — that will put T.O. to shame in that category.

Pittsburgh. Casino-related Ben Roethlisberger jokes will run rampant (example: Why does Ben say blackjack reminds him of dating? In both, he’s trying to get 21-or-under!). The Steelers will adopt the slogan, “Just Wynn, baby!”

Cincinnati. Chad “Ocho Cinco” will take a night class in basic Spanish and be embarrassed by how grammatically incorrect his nickname is.

Tennessee. Vince Young will argue that he was misquoted when he declared he would be the next black quarterback to win a Super Bowl. He said “soup bowl”( he had a good feeling about the raffle at a recent Tupperware party he attended).