What has Concentrated Awesome been up to in 2012? Besides funneling all of our internet millions into off-Pauly Shore accounts (where the Weasel will never get them) to dodge taxation, we have our hands in many cookie jars – literally, not figuratively (and it’s nothing to snickerdoodle about). Emerson once wrote that “God screens us evermore from premature ideas,” which was true in his time (with the Lord acting as a bouncer for your brain; as for other parts being premature, well, he’s never protected us from that), but now God outsources the screenings to the TSA, so we were able to sneak these right past Him effortlessly.

Invented a texting language to express regret, remorse code.

Manufactured an instrument under the label “Viable Vocations,” the Jeremy VioLin. If you have Chinese-American child, they’re still more likely to be a music prodigy than an professional athlete. Have your kid start with learning the triangle and then work their way towards learning the triangle offense. Unfortunately, Lin’s teammate wouldn’t agree to approve a Carmelo cello.

Founded a combination BBQ eatery and computer center, Hog-n-DOS (for fast service, use our hard drive-thru Windows). We served no ice cream, which really confused and angered customers. One even pulled out a Magnum on us (the covered in chocolate kind). Don’t worry, he’s behind bars now – ice cream bars.

Wrote the titles for Mitt Romney’s Presidential campaign tome, should he win, Mittigating Circumstances, or lose, AdMitt Defeat.

Pitched a marching band make-over show, Sex Cymbal.

Recorded the blanket ballad, “Teach Me How to Snuggie.”

Fermented an Asian wine, Filipino Grigio.

Produced a movie about proposing while plastered, The Five-Beer Engagement.

Brokered deals for two Donald Trump-endorsed e-readers, the Amazon Kindle You’re Fired and the Barnes & Noble Crook.

That's a wrap: Our hip-hop sandwich shop folded.

Developed a swearing Scrabble-esque game, Curse Words with Friends because you can’t spell “fun” without ‘f-u.’

Operated a car detailing and rental service for criminals, A Clean Getaway.

Formed a  boy bard band, Pun Direction, whose forthcoming album is called, As You Mic It. To further taunt Simon Cowell, they all wear cowls and were cloned from Ryan Seacrest DNA (call it the XY Factor) .

Created a game show where contestants identify auto repairs, Name That Tune-Up (alternate title: Your Lucky Brake).

Designed a Michael Jackson-themed juice bar, Smoothie Criminal.

Convinced Facebook to buy our photo program, Instagrahamcracker, which through a digital filter, adds wafers to pictures (tip: be sure to turn off your browser’s cookies when using it), thus instantly making the images appear older, since no one has eaten the sweet snack since the 1950s . We can assure you, Mr. Zuckerberg, there’s S’more brilliance where that came from.

I saw London, I saw France, I saw Pipa’s underpants (the British Museum is quite thorough in its collection of Royal Family artifacts). Follow me on my European Vacation, which Chevy Chase declined to join me on, so I went with my wife instead.

I come to learn that London Bridge isn’t “falling down, falling down.” That’s the last time I trust a nursery rhyme. To make matters worse, the black sheep weren’t telling me if they had any wool, so I came home with three bags empty.

Disappointed not to find the Rolling Stones at Stonehenge. Nor did I spot Emma Stone, Sharon Stone or Stone Phillips. Realized that the only people interested in a circle of standing rocks with a mysterious origin and possibly mystical meaning are pot heads and plan for a “Stonedhenge” park in the states, where we sell Phish ‘n chips.

Despite asking several blokes on the street, no one can direct me toward The Ministry of Silly Walks.

After I accidentally get locked in a bathroom, I start writing the song, “Trapped in the Water Closet.”

Since a sign has been put up at King’s Cross marking platform 9 and 3/4, I move on to my search for duffle coat-wearing, marmalade sandwich-loving bear from deepest, darkest Peru at Paddington Station.

Even among the Brits, there’s no interest in financing my Guy Ritchie parody gay porno, Cock, Sock and Two Smoking Buttholes. Also had no backers for my musical theatre piece, Krumping with Crumpets.

Visited the reconstructed Globe Theatre. Noted the irony that in Shakespeare’s time the shape of the venue was round, while today it’s the audience who is round.

Attempt to break the concentration of the Buckingham Palace guards by asking them how white guys grew such great afros.

Joked that the only work Posh Spice can hope to get is in a deodorant ad, if she’s willing to call herself “Old.”

Hit on what I believe to be a beautiful woman. It turns out to be Eddie Izzard in drag. Time to leave London.

Saw Notre Dame cathedral. Tried to spike a football inside, but security confiscated it. Fun fact: In the U.S., Notre Dame is associated with the Fighting Irish, but here it’s connected to the Retreating French.

Conquered the French in under 3 hours. This is now the Marc de Triomphe.

Since I am a “stranger” in this land, I disguise myself as an author and philosopher, calling my outfit “Camus-flage.” I think he’d appreciate the absurdity.

Try to start an even shorter art movement than Fauvism, named “Favreauism,” where every painting is a portrait of John Favreau. It is widely panned as the ugliest style ever committed to canvas.

Went a little crazy walking along the river. Later, a doctor diagnosed me as having gone “in Seine in the membrane.”

I must admit, the baked goods here are delicious. The croissants are flakier than Brian Wilson (both the pitcher and the singer).

Expected to encounter an enormous sports store on Champs-Elysees. Then I remembered the only thing the French do competitively is smoke.

Confused a street mime when I suggested he think outside of the invisible box.

After another rude encounter, I write off the French as a people. Quickly extend it to include French Stewart and French’s mustard. Later, determine I have a Louvre-hate relationship with the nation.

Frustrated at the lack of wi-fi at a famous French landmark, write a letter to Apple, proposing they buy the monument and re-name it “The iFfel Tower.”

Spend several hours playing a game where I stop passersby and ask them, “Pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon?”

After I vogue outside of the fashion magazine’s Paris office, I come to the conclusion I’m Bordeaux out of my mind.

Even after three days, I refuse to surrender to Paris’ charm. I’ll leave surrendering to the experts.

Check our Vitale signs, March Madness is here, which means it’s time to dust off our degree in bracketology – which is only slightly less useless than our Bachelor’s in English – and make our picks for the field.

Uncertain if forward John Henson will be able to play, North Carolina commissions Jim Henson studios to make a muppet mimic, which goes unnoticed until Yahoo Sports reports on it, taking Gonzo journalism to another level. Meanwhile, Gonzaga is annoyed it didn’t think of this first.

In a move that surprises no one,  the Wichita State Shockers become the favorite of frat boys everywhere, while Xavier is supported by comic book geeks who hope the special school is full of mutants.

Harvard is disqualified after failing to emerge from the locker room of their halftime matchup against Vanderbilt because they have to cram for their mathematics exam, concluding that game theory is more important than the game.

Kentucky escapes by the skin of their teeth against Western Kentucky, which is an idiom most people in the state can’t relate to.

King of the Castlevania: The only Belmont we're experts on is Simon.

Small school sensation Murray State shows up ready for their first-round meeting, but lose because Jermaine and Bret aren’t present. It makes for a long flight (of the conchords) home.

Disgruntled Orlando Magic center Dwight Howard adds Duke to the list of teams he’s willing to be traded to. Having never played college ball, the NCAA immediately declares him eligible to suit up and asks Duke if there’s anything else they can do to help. Duke requests that the NCAA hire circus performers as referees, so it’ll be easier for the officials to swallow their whistles when it comes to making calls against the Blue Devils.

In an ironic twist, following an upset,vengeful Syracuse fans burn the UNC-Asheville campus to ashes.

Notre Dame refuses to play their scheduled contest on St. Patrick’s Day, citing “religious and intoxicated reasons.”

Your only “sleeper” selection that comes true, is when you correctly predict that your girlfriend will force you to spend the night on the sofa when you put your foot down and declare that you’re watching Creighton, instead of accompanying her to Crate + Barrel. You earn a second stay in the easy chair by choosing Marquette over a trip with her to the market.

After seeing a Hooters commercial for the 1,000th time, you still can’t decide which seems more astoundingly artificial: the women or the food.

These past few months we’ve been busy running our waterbed store, Wet Dreams.  Our buy a twin, get a set of twins promotion was highly successful. As was our commercial featuring Billy Ocean crooning, “Get out of my dreams and get into Wet Dreams.” We declared the sale Serta-fiably sexy. As far as sleep numbers go, every customer’s was a 69. Ironically, we grew restless selling beds (after a while, we lost the box spring in our step), so back to blogging we go, like a moth to a flame or a butterfly to a Tiffany lamp (they’re attracted to colorful light). This Super Bowl is a re-match of the 2007 game, making it less somewhat less than super (we’d describe it as “accepta-bowl”), but it’s still worth betting on (we have a lot of money stored under our unsold mattresses). Here are some prop bets that will probably blow up in our faces like homemade meth (we knew we should’ve used the Betty Crack-er mix). So degenerates: Are you ready for some gam-ball?

1:3 Odds a despondent Aaron Rodgers pantomimes hanging himself with his imaginary championship belt.

10:1 Odds we dub his maneuver the “discount double choke.”

1:10 Odds Al Michaels spaces out and thinks he’s calling the Indy 500 race.

1:20 Odds Giants WR Victor Cruz puts a literal spin on his salsa dance celebration but dunking a football into a jar of salsa if he scores. 1:15 Odds he does the limbo under the goal posts.

1:25 Odds Pats coach Bill Belichick switches from a sleeveless hoodie to a hood-less one.

1:50 Odds Madonna brings Tim Tebow onstage during halftime for a duet of “Like a Virgin.”

1: 100,000 Odds Tebow then converts Madonna to Christianity.

1:75 Odds a confused Harrison Ford is spotted at the game wearing a fedora and holding a bullwhip because he noticed “Indy” has been trending all week.

2:1 Odds Giants coach Tom Coughlin’s face turns all colors on the Homeland Security’s terror alert level chart before the game is over.

Aaron Rodgers has gone to the State Farm upstate.

1:5 Odds Chad Ochocinco will change his name to “Uno Super Bowl-o” or “Cero Super Bowl-o,” depending on the outcome.

1:500 Odds Pats TE Rob Gronkowski spikes the ball so hard that it leaves the Earth’s atmosphere.

1:1,000 Odds it collides with an NBC satellite, causing a temporary blackout for TV viewers.

1:20 Odds Eli Manning gets choked up after the game.

1: 30 Odds he gets choked out… by jealous brother Peyton.

1:50 Odds Pats enormous DT Vince Wilfork gets injured and has to be carted off the field by a forklift.

1:80 Odds versatile Pats WR/DB/returner Julian Edelman is asked to call plays.

1:15 Odds he’s asked to star in an NBC series.

1:100 Odds that if Tom Brady wins his third championship the Tea Party will nominate him, as a true Patriot, to run for President.

50:1 Odds Brady, should he accept the nomination, will immediately be beating Mitt Romney in the polls.

1:200 Odds New York’s game-day ritual consists of listening to They Might Be Giants, watching Little Giants and shopping at a Giant supermarket.

1:300 Odds New England counters by watching The Patriot, Patriot Games and It’s Pat: The Movie.

1:15 Odds that more Americans who DVR the game fast forward through the football to watch the commercials.

Can we all agree that popping your collar is douchey? It’s essentially the “high class” mullet, as if to say “I’m completely unaware of how fucking ridiculous this is.” I’m just waiting for the day they start creating “pre-popped” collars, followed by a series of popped collars, each douchier than the last, like how there was a double razor, followed by the mach3, then then quattro, etc.. Perhaps I’ve inspired a douchey coporation towards evil just now.

Now, before you say “wait a minute, it looks good on me!” stop yourself. Go to hotchickswithdouchebags.com and count how many guys (who actually have a shirt on) have popped collars. Notice a trend?

That being said, there have been exceptions to the rule, notably 3 dudes in history able to pull off the popped collar:

(more…)

Putting the ‘high’ in “high school,” a math teacher in Illinois was busted for smoking pot on the job. The habit explained her fascination with imaginary numbers.

XXX-Men: A woman in Virginia who bought what was supposed to be a cartoon superhero movie at Target for her son, wound up with a gay porn movie instead. She should’ve been tipped off by the title, “The Fantastic Foursome.”

Finally, Applebee’s lives up to its name: A large cloud of bees flew in front of a Florida restaurant, causing patrons to flee. A waitress came over to serve the swarm, asking, “Whaddaya want, honey?”

He’s on cloud nine: The hunt for a Brazilian priest who vanished into the sky after strapping 1,000 balloons to himself (probably not the best way to get to Heaven) was called off after four days. Authorities didn’t want to get carried away searching for him.

Hour mistake: Watch maker Romain Jerome is selling 300K piece that’s truly timeless – it can only tell the wearer whether it’s day or night. The initial batch sold out in 48 hours, so evidently buyers aren’t giving the watch’s limitations a second thought.

Mine over matter: A man in Allentown, Pa. Survived a 500-foot fall into a strip mine. When questioned about the tumble, the man asked that the subject be dropped.

No monkey business: Yoko Ono is suing the producers of Ben Stein’s pro-creationist documentary, which uses John Lennon’s song “Imagine” without her permission. Ono hopes to “Win Ben Stein’s Money.”

Prisoner 57: Wesley Snipes has been sentenced to 3 years in jail for tax evasion – one for every “Blade” movie.

Fur sure: Shakira and Pamela Anderson were both in D.C. Speaking on behalf of animal rights group PETA. They thought the organization’s letters stood for “People for the Ethical Treatment of Airheads.”

Jim Beamed: Amy Winehouse was jailed for headbutting a man outside a London bar. The man said his noggin hurt worse after listening to her music than the blow to the melon.

Bomb’s away: A World War II bomb that was scheduled to be detonated at sea after it turned up on British shores has gone missing. It’s probably washed up on eBay.

Liquid Crystal Deceit: A Missouri man tried to switch the price tag of an LCD TV and a bottle of water at a Wal-Mart and claim the set cost $3.16. Authorities have labeled him an “aqua fienda.”
Never bean done: Oklahoma City mayor Mick Cornett has partnered with Taco Bell to convince the city’s residents to lose 1 million pounds this year. The fast food chain has promised to help people with their crunches.

Vanilla Ice was arrested on domestic battery charges after an argument with his spouse. It’s the irrelevant rapper’s first hit in more than a decade.

From Wentz it came: Ashlee Simpson is reportedly pregnant with rocker Pete Wentz’s child. A guess as to what will fall out: boy.

Woah, halfway there. Woah, drivin’ while impaired: Bon Jovi guitarist Richie Sambora was busted for DUI. He’s wanted dead or alive.

He should stick to ‘Melo Yellow: Denver forward Carmelo Anthony was arrested on suspicion of DUI. Police estimate that he was a mile high.

Studying hard: Students from Randolph College in Virginia took a class field trip to the Chicken Ranch, a legal brothel in Nevada. Unfortunately, the cash-strapped students only had enough money to stay for one hour.

J.K. Growling: Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling is suing to halt publication of “Harry Potter Lexicon,” saying the reference guide is attempting to steal and cash in on her work. You can’t spell “muggle” without ‘mug.’

Horsing around: Meanwhile, Harry Potter star Daniel Radcliff will bring his naked body over to America this year, starring in the play Equis on Broadway, which gained attention because the young actor does a nude scene. Randcliff says exposing himself on stage doesn’t bother him, not after the thorough strip searches he’s received on prior visits from U.S. Customs agents.

Putting the ‘Rev’ in “Revlon:” The alleged reason Britney Spears caused a minor fender-bender in L.A. was because she was putting on makeup while driving. Spears apparently misunderstood her therapist’s plea to “apply herself.”

Falling stars: CBS has canceled reality show “Secret Talent’s of the Stars” after only one episode. When it came to ratings, it was a big dipper.

Fly like the Eagles: Stephen Colbert is in Philadelphia this week hosting his show. Colbert should go over well there, as his character’s logic is more twisted than a soft pretzel.

The sum of all fires: A blaze damaged the Maryland home of author Tom Clancy. The writer is no longer in any clear and present danger.

I want to see members of PETA in an all out brawl to see who gets to pry the gun out of heston’s cold dead hand now. Is that so wrong?

The answer is yes. But it feels so right.

Looking for allies in the alleys, Barack Obama bowled in Pennsylvania, which will hold a primary April 22. He rolled a 37. Pinned down about his poor performance, Obama said he hadn’t bowled since Jimmy Carter was in office, but that’s a lane excuse. If Obama can’t exude more machismo than Hillary Clinton in the democratic race, he’ll wind up on a split ticket.

Tech support
Kobe Bryant is the clear choice for MVP, provided that stands for Most Volatile Player. Bryant leads the league in technical fouls. He’s on pace to produce more whine than Napa Valley.

Ludichris
He’s no Warrior: Chris Webber has decided to retire less than two months after returning to the NBA. Seems C-Webb couldn’t shake the cobwebs out of his creaky knees. Golden State was hoping for a storybook comeback when they signed him. Since Webber only managed to play in nine games, it turned out to be a grim fairytale.

Low Cal
California fired men’s basketball coach Ben Braun recently, citing the school’s failure to reach the NCAA tournament the past five years. When asked for a reaction to his dismissal, Braun bristled.

Bury Barry
The San Francisco Giants have begun to remove images and references to Barry Bonds from their stadium. Pretty soon you’ll need a GoldenEye to spot any trace of Bonds at AT&T Park.

Hardcover edition
Sometimes multitasking can get you into trouble. For instance. Penn State basketball player Stanley Pringle was charged with public lewdness and disorderly conduct after being caught masturbating in the school library while hitting on a woman. Pringle first claimed he was boning up on his studies, but now he alleges he was trying to master the gooey decimal system.

A poach shot
Chef Paul Prudhomme might want to wear a Kevlar apron next time he’s on the greens. Prudhomme was cooking in a tent prior to the Zurich Classic when he was nicked by a bullet. Undeterred, Prudhomme resumed food preparations, but later — adding salt to injury — he was subjecting to some light grilling by police.

Out of the mix
The Dolphins signed free agent safety Chris Crocker to a contract. A strange move since the only Crocker who has a recipe for success is Betty.

Matter of Nationals interest
President Bush threw out the first pitch at the Washington Nationals game in the team’s new stadium to supposed steroid-user Paul Lo Duca, who was juiced to glove a ball from the Commander-in-Chief.

Allow us to upbraid the NFL’s consideration of a new tuck rule that would force players with long hair to harbor it inside their helmets. Perhaps the league should focus less on the players’ locks and more on preventing players from getting locked up. Mark our words, if the NFL implements such a policy, they will come to dread the decision.

Bush league: President Bush is slated to throw out the first pitch at the Washington Nationals game tonight. Chances are it’ll sink to the ground faster than the economy. Dick Cheney volunteered to be the catcher — he was very concerned about protecting home.

Carr troubles: Departing Michigan offensive lineman Justin Boren voiced an offensive line of his own about the football team, remarking that without former coach Lloyd Carr, “family values have eroded.” Minus Carr, Boren has lost his drive.

Ahead of the curves: No Red Sox would’ve been more delighted if the team’s threatened boycott of a trip to Japan had been successful than Caly Buchholz, since he’d have had more time to spend with his pet — Penthouse Pet of the Year Erica Ellyson. Buchholz was previously involved with a Victoria Secret model. Seems like Clay’s the one doing the molding.

Triple threat: Doing some long-range thinking, the NCAA will move the 3-point line back one foot next season. Announcers have already adjusted the expression “from downtown” to “from the suburbs.”

Because there’s nothing else to do in that one-horse town: 115,300 people saw Boston face L.A. Saturday, a world record for attendance at a baseball game. Guess none of the Dodgers were crowd dodgers.

Next time, pass: Greg Oden is in trouble — for playing basketball. So excited to return to the court after an injury that caused him to miss all of his rookie year, Oden participated in a pickup game, unbeknownst to his team, who reprimanded him for it. They’d much prefer he devout his free time to getting into altercations outside nightclubs or recording a rap album, you know, more traditional hobbies for NBA players.

Monkey business: LeBron James’ forthcoming Vogue cover, in which he is showing baring his teeth and grabbing Gisele Bundchen by the waist, depicts him as ape-like and reinforces racial stereotypes, according to critics. LeBron was pleased with the shot, adding that he’d changed his nickname from “King James” to “King Kong James.”

Sew what: After receiving a gash during a collision Friday, Memphis’s Derrick Rose was told by team staff he needed stitches. Rose, who doesn’t like being pricked, refused and ran out of the locker room. According to his mother, Rose has always feared needles and it’s still a thorny issue.