Big news in the NFL draft, probably. Lots of people drafted. Some teams will be better than other teams, but maybe not. I lost focus. The only part of the draft I gave a damn about was all the way at the end of the draft, when figurative janitors pushed their hypothetical brooms across the empty draft floor as Chandler Harnish was announced as this year’s Mr. Irrelevant. For those of you who are like me three days ago, Mr. Irrelevant is the name given to the last person picked in the NFL draft, the bottom of the barrel of football-playing hopefuls looking for a chance to prove themselves on national television. Obviously, I love this person for two reasons.
1) We share the alliance of being picked last for sports teams.
2) “Mr. Irrelevant” is the best oxymoron in our culture.
A person is so undesired and undeserving of attention that he earns not just the title of Mr. Irrelevant, but a vacation for his family and a trophy to commemorate his sucking. I spend a lot of my time enjoying the phrases and jokes us humans create daily. While I could write a million more words about how “Mr. Irrelevant” is the embodiment of pop-culture, I’d like to keep things simple this week. I’d like everyone to know how great this week was for language and immature jokes. You’d be shocked how well they go together.
Def: “To own up with grace and excitements. To optimistically steer the ship underwater.”
When I hear a phrase I love too much, it usually involuntarily becomes part of my lexicon, ranging from a few days to a few years. For this week’s entertainment, I give an uncharacteristic thanks to Detroit! The land of Electric Six is now the home of a sexting scandal involving a judge from the city’s courts. It’s really not a crazy story until the judge is interviewed. He seems both unknowing of what this could mean for his career and completely over the political scandal protocol. If you can watch the video, please do, because everything about this video is weird.
If you can’t, this is what he actually says once he sees his own half naked photo: “Hot dog, that’s me! No shame to my game!” While I don’t condone what is most likely the sexual harrassment of a coworker, I admire his phrasing. Not only does he say it is him, it’s exciting enough for him to say “Hot dog.” But he also strung together two sentences that are very fun to say: “You say you think you know who’s been stealing boxes of office pens? Hot dog, that’s me! No shame to my game!”
Def: “A rudely impractical item. A supflourous or offensive gift.”
A Chinese clothes company has created a new line of sunglasses, branded with the first name in eyes: Helen Keller. This is not a repeat from the schoolyard joke exchange. A company has created a line of Helen Keller eyewear, outside of irony. Maybe the Chinese don’t realize we are terrible people who would make fun of a deaf-blind woman overcoming adversity. I am at a complete loss, otherwise. Obviously the product is utterly irrelevant. It defies people to buy it, but I suppose that’s why people will buy it. To those hoping that the company can somehow salvage their choice of using Helen Keller to sell sunglasses, the motto they’ve picked is “You see the world, the world sees you.” We are beyond irony. “You got me tickets for a concert on the day of my sister’s wedding? Why don’t you just buy Helen Keller sunglasses while you’re at it.”
Def: “The last time you have sex with someone before you break up with them. Ew. Gross.”
The following news story out of Egypt has since been revised and confirmed as false. It’s a complete fabrication, possibly planted by fans of old and nutty Mubarak trying to discredit the new Egyptian government. Still, for at least two days, there was huge news that Egyptian government officials passed a law called “Farewell Intercourse.” The law, as reported by some shadowy figure and overheard by fans of crazy shit, stated that men with recently deceased wives could still make love to their wife within six hours after her death. The widow window caused an uproar for being unbelievably disgusting, and it was. It was exactly unbelievably disgusting, but so unbelievable that we all immediately bought into it. “Farewell intercourse? Ew. Gross.