A handful of the most influential photos ever captured

While spending my nights jumping from one mindless website to another, I found these images and loved them. They're some of the most memorable, most tragic and impact images ever captured on film. Looking through these images invokes such emotion. I hope you all can take from them what I did. Most of the images don't need captions because whether they're part of American history or pop culture, a thousand words could be spoken about each one. If you like them, leave a comment.

The iron curtain just fell over my heart,,,,

I'm not sure playing soccer in the US brings many advantages, but apparently playing soccer anywhere but the US brings huge advantages. This is Russian model, Irina Shayk. She dates Cristiano Rinaldo who kicks a ball for some team I don't care about. Hot girls that model for Sports Illustrated used to have names like Christy, Cindy, or Cheryl. Now it's Adriana, Heidi, Irina, and Alessandra. American jobs are getting outsourced so much, we're even outsourcing our models. This is ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as Irina's legs. Wait, I'm not following this post. What was I trying to say? Ah who cares. I'm just gonna look at these pictures. See you next time...toodle-doo!

Howard Stern vs Lady GaGa

I know Howard Stern has a reputation of demeaning women, being repulsive, sexist, disgusting, but those are words and phrases spoken by people that probably don't listen or know too much about him. Truth is, he's a self loathing, insecure savant that constantly strives to decimate his competition by creating an original and entertaining 3 hour show that is based on honest discourse and in his words, "exposes hypocrisy." Personally, I love Howard Stern. He's an undeniable genius. He, year after year, pulls the best, the most interesting, the most raw and honest emotions out of everyone he interviews. Earlier this year, he had Billy Joel on and I was in a trance for an hour. Today, it was Lady GaGa. I've never been a huge fan, but I listened to this entire 90 minute interview this morning and was so captivated, I couldn't get out of my car. I've always found her over-the-top showmanship a little indulgent, but this interview, coupled with two ridiculously emotional and riveting performances, completely changed my mind. If you don't have 90 minutes, fast forward to 66:00 for her songs. If you don't have Sirius, subscribe to Howard Stern on your smart phone through the Sirius app. It will instantly become the most interesting three hours of your day. I hope you enjoy this interview as much as I did.

If you getting this on facebook, go to my blog at www.exposedandnaked.blogspot.com for the audio.


Lady GaGa appears on the Howard Stern Show by gaganewsdotcom

I love Ukrainian girls.

Mila Kunis is a pretty damn cool girl. First, she's from Ukraine so other than living an American dream of rags to riches, she doesn't owe this country very much. To her credit though, this Marine, stationed in Afghanistan, sent Mila a message through Youtube. As it turns out and lucky for him, it went viral. So viral in fact, Justin Timberlake saw this video and called Mila, whom I'm certain is his new conquest, and encouraged her to accept this invitation. I've has a secret mancrush bromance with JT and this furthers my point. He's just cool. Well now, so is this Marine because without a doubt, he's going to have the hottest chick at the Marine Corps Ball. Enjoy this video and if you're a dude reading this, imagine how bad ass this would be to take Mila Kunis to a Ball with all your boys green with envy. If you're a girl, try to look more like Mila Kunis.

Enough is enough...good grief.

I'm growing very tired of this whole Casey Anthony debacle. First, I truly believe if she were an African-American mother, with the same history and background as Casey, it wouldn't even be news. Second, this is a trial that only rivals, in regard to media attention, the other most famous media thirsty murder trial in our nation's history, Oranthal James Simpson. Ironically, in both cases, blame the prosecution. In this case, blame the arrogance and wanton thirst for a capital murder conviction. Make no mistake, this is undoubtedly a tragedy. Regardless of her gruesome murder, that poor little girl had no chance of a future. Based on what America learned about her mother and that family, we should feel some relief that she's finally resting peacefully. Whether Casey Anthony committed the most abhorrent and heinous crime is moot; because irrespective of her guilt or innocence, it's what you can prove beyond beyond a reasonable doubt. The prosecution couldn't do that. The prosecution knew the evidence and still chose to pursue capital murder. A lesser conviction would've been far easier to reach and would've kept her jail for a long long time. I'm just so sick of hearing how disgusted people are and how much they hate Casey Anthony. Of course back then, with OJ, it was racial. What do those people say now, or do they just hate her because "They know" she's guilty. You're allowed to hate her. You just can't convict her because the people that had all the evidence couldn't do it. Only a despicable human being could tattoo "The Good Life" on their back while their child is missing for a month. Only a monster could continue partying while her child was lying in its shallow grave in some swamp behind their home. It's not about public opinion though. It's about the court of law. It's about a decision from a jury of peers coming to an informed decision based on circumstantial evidence. Circumstance is difficult to prove. It's that simple. If nothing else, I have faith in our Justice system. It's verdicts like this that solidify my faith. I try to be rational. I have a feeling she's guilty, but based on how shady her whole family was throughout the trial, they're probably all guilty to some degree. I can say without equivocation that if I were on trial and my life were on the line, I want the presented evidence to lead the jury to my fate, not media scrutiny, or personal vendettas. It's impossible to rationalize the murder of anyone, much less a two year old child. I tried to picture myself on that jury. If evidence led me to believe she was guilty beyond any reasonable doubt, I could pull the trigger myself, but being an American, and believing in this great nation, won't allow me to reach a verdict that could possibly send someone to death if I couldn't, beyond any reasonable doubt, know that I was making the right decision. Just like OJ, if it doesn't fit, you must acquit. I couldn't name three people, including OJ himself, that doesn't know he did it, but it doesn't matter. He's not guilty. Our system isn't without flaw, but when you see a trial like this, where fireballs of hatred are directed toward an alleged murderer, and yet still, a jury defies everyone by saying something as simple as, "We weren't satisfied with the evidence provided" makes me feel like America has it pretty darn close to perfect.

Bill Pullman = Worst actor/Best comedian ever.

Looking back, 1996 must have been a very empty year when it comes to general happiness and entertainment. Independence Day was a HUGE hit. Now I realize it's just one of the most reliable comedies ever produced. When I need a laugh, anything with the Bills will do it...be it Paxton or Pullman. Honestly, they're basically interchangable anyway.

I'm sad to admit I want one.

Now that Charlie Sheen has been fired from his gravy train of a show and the world realizes what they should've already known, that he's a toothless meth head with a famous father, I hate to post anything about him. That said, this mask is nothing short of awesome. If the ridiculous catch phrase "Winning" was still relevant, this would make a great Halloween.

Even after all these years...

This is unreputable evidence that Heidi Klum is in love with me the rocket of all rockets. She pops out kids during lunch breaks and goes back to being the dorkiest hot chick you've ever fallen for. It's been so intense for so long, between the two of us, I can't even recall where or when this love affair began. I'm pretty sure the south of France was invloved, but the details are fuzzy. Regardless, Germany seems like such a small country to produce such a flawless example of the human genome. I look at that huge country, Brazil, on the map and I get it. There's like 4 billion people there or something. It's no wonder they can produce models at such an alarming rate, but Germany? There are more people on the interstates of Atlanta everyday than the whole country of Germany, yet this is what they offer the world. Well, all I can say is God bless you Germany. Thank you. Thank you so much.

Atlanta Ranks Number One?

The normally clueless, out-of-touch with men's thoughts and desires, Maxim Magazine, released a list that breaks down the top 50 cities for men. Atlanta, GA was numero uno.

From Maxim.com:

That’s right: Atlanta is the ultimate man city. Why? Well, mostly because of their girls score, which was through the freakin’ roof. And there are good job prospects, fun night­- life and... Well, have a look to your left as we take a ride through the dark side of Atlanta with native rockers the Black Lips. It’s going to get weird!

Well played Mr Stewart

The Daily Show
Tags: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

I'll be the first to say I don't like Sarah Palin, nor do I think she's capable of being President. Although when you look at the competence of our last two, Big Bird from Sesame Street could prove to be a formidable candidate. Nonetheless, I gotta give it to Stewart here. He, albeit wildly liberal, will call a spade a spade when it comes to the insanity and furious contempt for Sarah Palin. The liberal media doesn't even know why they hate her, they just do. This video is funny because even a liberal can make a mockery of the biased media.

and I complain about traffic.

If this doesn't make you cry, you simply aren't capable of that emotion. This poor young man's life is so tragic, you couldn't make a movie out of this that would seem believable.


Korea's Got Talent - Watch more Funny Videos

The Greatest Generation: 67 years ago

On June 6, as our service men and women are scattered throughout the world defending the freedoms of the greatest nation civilization has ever known, we should be reminded what an unforgiving hell our soldiers faced as they stared evil in the eyes and stormed those beaches in northern France 67 years ago. Not unlike today, we forget the ultimate sacrifices so many have paid so we can burn a flag in protest or scream to the top of our lungs in defiance of our Government. Those aren't actions of courage. Courage is standing shoulder to shoulder with brothers whom you've never met, and as the doors to your boat open to a barrage of gunfire and deafening explosions, you run side-by-side up the sandy blood stained beaches stepping over your fallen brethren. That level of courage is unimaginable. When you're walking through the aiport, standing in line at Subway, walking down the sidealk on the way to your office, tell a soldier thank you. Buy a soldier's lunch. Tell an elderly veteran you haven't forgotten the sacrifices he/she made. Remember just how special America is, and most importantly, never forget the price of freedom.

God Bless America.

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish.

I found this today as I was perusing the internet. I can't remember when I've read something more profoundly inspiring than this commencement address delivered several years ago by Apple founder and CEO Steve Jobs. I hope you enjoy it half as much as I did.

This is a prepared text of the Commencement address delivered by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, on June 12, 2005.



I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That’s it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: “We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?” They said: “Of course.” My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.


And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents’ savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn’t see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn’t all romantic. I didn’t have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends’ rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn’t have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can’t capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it’s likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn’t know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down – that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple’s current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I’m pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don’t settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn’t even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor’s code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you’d have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I’m fine now.

This was the closest I’ve been to facing death, and I hope it’s the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960′s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: “Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.” It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

I'm not sure I believe this, I just don't see the similarities.

Arnold is undoubtedly having a rough week, but we shouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions. Maybe this kid isn't his. When this alleged affair started, he was still one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. Granted, she's a radiant beauty, but he could've had anyone he wanted. I just don't buy this story. What proof do we have here? All we essentially have is a picture of a little boy that looks 100% undeniably exactly like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Oh, also this kid is like 10 years old and already has 17 inch biceps. Coincidence?...most likely.

Angelina Jolie > Jennifer Anniston in every way...yes, that way too.

I'm not sure what Jennfier Anniston has been doing, besides sticking pins in the voo-doo dolls of the Pitt-Jolie family, or Sharpie(ing) the teeth black of Angelina Jolie on the latest issue of People Magazine. I kid, maybe, but regardless, I guarantee it hasn't had anything to do with flying to Ramstein Airforce Base in Germany to visit our country's troops. Jolie may be weird, but if you still reference a vile of blood around her neck, or her kissing her brother at the Oscars, 100% you're a girl and 100% you loved Friends and think Jolie "stole" Pitt away from Rachel Green. It's been like a million years and all you hear is Anniston still wallowing in the sorrow of Brad Pitt. Get over it. Sad? Try something constructive with your millions of dollars. Instead of spending the weekends in Cabo at your resort with private security and a thousand bikinis, try building schools and feeding starving children in Africa with your millions. Instead of spending weekends with Oprah at her house (how sad), try going over for the day and spending your "celebrity" with our troops who fight terrorism for sometimes less than 30,000 a year. I couldn't despise Jennifer Anniston more if she were the serpent of death mixed with the souls of the Taliban and syphilis blisters.

Leo, you S.O.B.

A couple of weeks ago, when average Americans, and Seal Team Six, were busy relishing in the death of the world's most evil man, Leonardo DiCaprio was breaking up with his Israeli supermodel girlfriend of many years. Many thought this would be the girl to tame his unquenchable thirst for beautiful woman. For the record, I am not one of those people. Number one, she just doesn't do it for me. Number two, he is pretty much a bad ass and knows almost all of Victoria's Secrets. I'm not sure if it was the chicken or the egg, meaning was it Blake that caused the break up, but based on her reputation among the circles of Hollywood, you damn right she's the cause. She has loose morals and loves the crap out of being famous and will do just about anything or anybody to stay there. And also, Jesus, she's beautiful. Regardless, it appears Leo agrees cause this week he's in Cannes France, on some yacht, with Blake Freaking Lively. If that doesn't make you want to hate your life nothing will. I would live for two years with the Taliban and OJ Simpson for ten minutes of naked wrestling with Blake Lively.

Such an emotional dichotomy for me here...

Osama Bin laden is dead. Ironically, I type those words with mixed emotions. Don't get me wrong, he deserved to die, but who am I to make that choice. You see, Bin Laden did just that, he played God twice on US soil (93' 01'), once on the USS Cole, and countless other times around the world. For 20 years or more he's used his fortune to fund global terrorism that although was focused on non Muslims, was not specific to them. For 10 years Bin Laden has been running like a rat, scurrying from cave to cave, country to country, trying to evade the fury of a scorned and battered Lady Liberty. But three days ago, his days of running ended with a single bullet to the head. One single bullet makes the ending to this murderer's saga almost anti-climactic. Like many others around the country, around the world, I'll remember for the rest of my life where I was when I first heard that his days of reigning terror were over. I immediately thought of those whose loved ones didn't get a choice. I thought of that horrific video of those terrified people climbing out of hell and onto the narrow and unforgiving ledge of the Twin Towers billowing smoke on that gorgeous Tuesday morning. I thought of those people on those doomed planes, knowing intuitively that their time on Earth was ending, having the presence of mind to use their phones to leave one last short and simple message of "I Love You" to their spouses answering machine. I thought of those heroic firefighters climbing the stairway to certain death after one building had already collasped in hopes of rescuing just one more innocent victim. I thought of all those mothers and fathers, husbands and wives, that had military personnel show up at their doorstep as they explained that their loved ones wouldn't return. Sunday night, I was proud of our President. I was so proud of the courageous efforts of our entire military, showing resilience and heroism for the last ten years as they fought in a storm of unforgiving terrain and uncertainty. I felt as proud to be an American as I did on September 12, when we stood, unified, on smoking rubble, determined to rise from the ashes. Unfortunately, the elation I felt from ridding the world of it's most prolific and accomplished cancer was short lived. I remember sitting at work on September 11, 2001, watching, as the world was, events unfolding that were beyond comprehension. I watched the streets of New York, D.C., and everywhere else around the country, blend as one. That day, enemies cast their differences aside. Muslims and Jews stood hand in hand with Christians, linking a chain of unified diversity that the world had never seen. I remember the feeling of being proud to be an American. As news of Towers crumbling circled around the world, countries cheered, burning American flags and singing praises of death and destruction. People danced in the streets while we hung up pictures of missing loved ones and wiped away tears from our blackened ashen faces. That was a hatred I couldn't conceptualize. I could only feel sorry for them. I felt sorry that they were so ingrained to be misguided, so ingrained to hate, that they would never have a clear line of sight to reality or real freedom. Freedom. The one word that made our country so special, yet ironically, the one word that caused unprecedented contempt. I felt so lucky to be a part of a nation that after enduring such hellish tragedy and murder, we stood proud, faithful, and focused, regardless of our religions, our skin colors, or our backgrounds. Sunday night, after crowds gathered outside the White House and began to cheer the death of Osama Bin Laden, we began to resemble those countries that left me scratching my head on September 11, 2001. You see, no matter what kind of animal Bin Laden was, as we cheer and chant in celebration, the death and destruction of another human being, we become instantaneously, no better than our enemies. If you closed your eyes, it would be hard to distinguish the difference between the streets of Afghanistan on Sept 11 2001 and Pennsylvania Ave June 2 2011 I know we're better than celebrating death in our streets. We've spent 10 years managing the holes of emptiness left by the callous hands of Bin Laden and his disciples. We've slowly become numb to war, to destruction, and slowly, we've forgotten how badly our souls were wounded that morning in September; however, more important than anything, we can't forget our resolve and our honor. We can't forget what makes us special. We can't allow ourselves to relinquish the hope and freedom that comes with being American, only to replace it with the hatred and contempt of our enemies. Our country deserves better. Its people are better.

Best Story of the Year Part Deux .

LODI, Calif. -- Lodi police arrested Shawn Batie, 42, at 9:41 p.m. on Friday night after they said he was found under the influence of methamphetamines.

Officers responded to a call in the area of Beckman Road just north of Harney Lane where a man later identified as Batie was found standing in the dirt next to the cemetery with a flashlight, yelling in the dark.

Police said that Batie was wearing an Oakland Raiders jacket, a g-string and a hair scrunchie around his genitals. He was also wearing socks.

Officers said that he was very jittery and his pupils were dilated. They took him into custody on suspicion of being under the influence, which was later confirmed at the jail where it was discovered that he was also a parolee at-large, police said.

Police said once at the jail, Batie proceeded to smear his feces on the walls.

Of course he's on meth. He's wearing a scrunchie on his junk. First of all, it's 2011...where the hell do you find a scrunchie? Second, he thought to put it around his junk. There's like two hundred questions I still have after that. What would cause this you ask. One simple explanation: M.E.T.H.

If you're clueless to the ways of the underworld and still not sold on the substance that causes you to act like this, watch Batie back at the station...cause he's wiping his fecal matter on the walls. So let's recap: 1). Scrunchies around junk. 2). Wiping your feces on walls.

Case closed: M.E.T.H.

Baseball is America's Game...

Thirty-five years ago today, on April 25, 1976, the Chicago Cubs took the field to play the Los Angeles Dodgers at Dodger Stadium. During the fourth inning with the Dodgers at bat, a 30-year-old Cubs outfielder named Rick Monday made the greatest play in baseball history, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the game of baseball.

Two idiot protesters, William Thomas and his 11-year-old son, stormed the field with an American flag. They threw it on the ground in shallow left-center field, kneeling over it with matches and lighter fluid, preparing to interrupt the game by burning Old Glory. Later, Monday recalled, "I figured having gone to college, two and two is sometimes four. They were dousing it with lighter fluid." During the game's radio broadcast, Dodgers announcer Vin Scully said, "Wait a minute, there's an animal loose. Two of them! I'm not sure what he's doing out there. It looks like he's going to burn a flag..."

Angry and reacting on pure patriotic instinct, the center fielder, who served six years in the Marine Reserves, sprinted towards them and snatched away the flag before they could drop a second match to set it ablaze. The crowd went wild, the protesters were escorted off the field, the crowd spontaneously broke out in "God Bless America," and, from that moment on, Rick Monday went down in American history books as an American folk hero. Afterward, he told the press, “If you’re going to burn the flag, don’t do it around me. I’ve been to too many veterans’ hospitals and seen too many broken bodies of guys who tried to protect it.”

Later in the year the Dodgers presented Monday with the flag that he saved. The '76 season ended up being Monday's career best with 32 home runs and 77 RBIs. He now works on the Dodger's broadcast team. Here's what he told Chicago Now's Bob Vorwald over the weekend while commemorating the 35th anniversary:

When I think back to that moment, I was in center field in the middle of the fourth inning and I saw out of the corner of my eye two people coming on the field. When that happens, you really don't know. Are they there on a bet? Are they coming out because they don't like you? I saw that one of them had something under his arm. They ran past Jose Cardenal, who was in left field, and went to shallow left-center. I saw one guy take out what looked to be an American flag and almost spread it out as if it was going to be a picnic blanket. I saw the reflection on the sun off the can and it looked like lighter fluid that they were dousing it with. It was windy at Dodger Stadium and the wind blew their first match out. The second match was lit and that's when I arrived. To this day, I don't know what was going through my mind, except that what they were doing was wrong. I scooped the flag up, and fortunately it was not on fire. The guy threw the can of lighter fluid at me, but he wasn't a prospect and he missed.

I gave the flag to Doug Rau, a pitcher came out of the Dodger dugout. Tommy Lasorda was coaching third base and ran by me and was livid as well. For an instant, I was thinking if I should bowl those guys over, but I just scooped the flag up. I'm very happy there was no violence involved and no one was hurt. I'm proud of the fact that I was able to stop them, but you don't think about the possible consequences at the time.

It stays fresh in my memory because of the number of pieces of mail I receive and the anniversary rolls around each April. That flag is in my home. I still look at the flag and the pictures and what has not changed is that I felt then as I do now that what those two people were trying to do was wrong.

I feel honored and proud when I am asked about the flag, not because I stopped two people from burning the flag that afternoon in Los Angeles, but because it represents a lot of rights and freedoms. A lot of years have gone by, but it's still important enough that people still discuss. That flag is still a part of my life and my wife and I have been blessed to be able to take it around the country and raise a lot of money for charities. It's meant a lot to me. I spent six years in the Marine Corps Reserve and I met a lot of people who gave a whole lot more than just the time that I spent. That flag represents a lot to be proud of. This is a wonderful country and it can be better if we want to try.

I think of myself having a high sports IQ, more specifically, a baseball aficionado, yet I've never heard of this story in my life. I'm so glad I know it though. How bad ass is this dude. Nothing gets me going like American patriotism. If you can watch this video and not feel a sense of pride and honor for this amazing country, do me a favor and move. Is burning a flag representative of our freedoms...absolutely. Conversely though, that same freedom gives me the right to hate you for burning it. If you're a parent and you take your 11 year old son out onto a major league field to burn your country's flag, you're a shitty parent. You simply don't force a child to be an instrument of your political discontent. That's what cowards do.

America is doomed.

When Los Angeles County Sheriff's homicide investigator Kevin Lloyd was routinely looking through snapshots of tattooed gang members, he saw something that caught his eye - a crime scene he was familiar with.

Anthony Garcia, a member of the Rivera-13 gang, had a tattoo that resembled the scene of the liquor store killing of 23-year-old John Juarez in Pico Rivera on Jan. 23, 2004, reports the Los Angeles Times.

There were numerous details the murder inked on the gang member. The paper reports that the tattoo included the Christmas lights that lined the roof of the liquor store where Juarez was shot and killed, the direction his body fell, the bowed street lamp across the way and the street sign. Above everything read the title, "RIVERA KILLS", a reference to the gang. A helicopter was also placed above the scene raining down bullets, a nod to Garcia's alias "Chopper."

When police discovered the evidence on Garcia's chest in 2008, they launched an investigation, which was followed by the arrest of Garcia, reports the paper.

This week, an undercover policeman placed in Garcia's cell got a confession from the suspect. That yielded a first-degree murder conviction in a killing investigators had initially given up hope on, the paper reports.

"Think about it. He tattooed his confession on his chest. You have a degree of fate with this," Capt. Mike Parker told the Times.

Garcia faces 65 years to life when he is sentenced on May 19 in a Norwalk court.

Could Garcia be dumber? No seriously, who tattoos the crime scene, down to the specific details, that only the guilty party would know on their chest. This is where I struggle with the debate regarding rehabilitation in the prison system. When you're dealing with people with this level of intelligence, there's no way you can expect them to rehabilitate. These people have always and will always be the dregs of society. Tattoos of murder scenes, complete with helicopters and Christmas lights on the liquor store, reveals this guy is neck and neck with the dumbest person to ever walk the face of the earth. The only thing this guy could do to help society would be to take a long walk off a short pier.

You gotta be kidding me.

Reporter Looks Like Police Sketch Of Rapist - Watch more Funny Videos

The reporter looks only a little like the perp in question, but honestly, if there's any resemblence whatsoever, shouldn't you have someone else cover this story? If you've got a wide mouth and wide set eyes and the sketch artist has the skills of a 4th grader with epilepsy, ask Hunter from the weather department to be the on scene reporter for this one. I feel badly for this dude. I bet there was a thousand calls right after he reported on this story and they all went a little like this:

"Uh...yes...I'm pretty sure the man you're looking for was just on television. He's going by the alias, Larry Seward and of all places, he's working for the nightly news."

You know they said all the famous serial killers like Son of Sam and Hillside Strangler would hang around their crime scenes because it made them feel invincible. Based upon Larry reporting his own crime on the news, I think might he be a little too confident.

Greatest resume of all time.

I'll be honest, if I'm hiring a guy to work in a restaurant, I couldn't, in a million years expect a more qualified, more bad ass applicant. This guy will no doubt be a winner...it's just a matter of time.

I just wouldn't classify Nigeria as forward thinking.

Africa is such an enigma of cultural evolution and civilization. People have inhabited that continent, populating the fertile crescent since around 5300 BC. So, what is that, roughly 7000 years of continuous inhabitance. You would think that after that many years of evolutionary principles influencing generation after generation, they would have progressed beyond black magic and human to goat transformations. Imagine living in a country where the police witness a Mazda 323(Mazda 323 wtf) being stolen and while one of the perps get away, the other turns to a goat to avoid being caught. That would be so awesome except that these policeman are serious. Yes, we are actually discussing human beings, while in the act of grand theft auto, turning themselves into a goat to avoid capture. Take a moment and say that out loud. Humans. Goats. 2011. Nigeria. Humans-->Goats.

Tornados love Fast Food too?

Tornado Steals Guy's Hamburger - Watch more Funny Videos

Eric Hubbard is like a magician. Instead of the tornado taking him away tumbling through ghetto, he grips the earth like Bill Paxton in the Twister finale when he wraps himself around the pipe in the barn with the strongest leather belt in the history of man. Eric didn't walk away unscathed by this rabid twister, though. The tornado came through and stole Eric's Extra Value Meal. R U F K M? What are the odds a raging tornado comes through your neighborhood and decides to give you and your Atlanta hat a break, but not your #3 Super Sized. This is basically Antoine Dodson 2.0. Enjoy!

Greatest Professor Ever.

This email was submitted to BroBible.com. I now want to re-enroll in college and take this professors class right now. Hope you enjoy this as much as I did.

Dear Class: I have received over 100 e-mails about the due date for the country reports and what midnight means to people...Midnight on Saturday means midnight on Saturday and it has nothing to do with Friday-that's why I said Saturday...So on Saturday morning, you will wake up and then all day long it is Saturday (what a concept !)...As morning goes on it then becomes Noon (or for those of you who are confused about Noon-it's lunchtime !!!)...Then it becomes Saturday Afternoon,...Then it becomes Saturday evening (usually somewhere at this time here folks have dinner),....Then it becomes Saturday Night (that means the Sun is down and it is dark outside) and then right at the end of Saturday night, it turns Midnight ! (60 minutes after 11:00 pm). And that's when the paper is due ! Are they not teaching times of the day anymore in school ? This is certainly the last damn time I will ever have anything due on Midnight....From now on it 's going to be 2:30 pm in the afternoon when the Sun is out...(please no e-mails asking if the paper is now due at 2:30 pm please or else I will kill myself)....Take care::"

The Balk for Jerry's Kids.

Justin Verlander apparently had a sezuire while making one of the most unathletic moves in the history of sports. Pitching to the A's David DeJesus with a man on first, the Verlander did a little dismount on the mound and threw a line-drive (not a pitch) at the batter's feet, hitting him. The umpires took a few minutes to figure out just what the hell had just happened and ultimately awarded second base to the runner on first; since the balk happened first, DeJesus didn't get the HBP. Turns out Verlander had a quasi-reasonable explanation for the incident and was able to laugh at himself over the whole thing.

"I went to go pick one and I didn't get my body turned," Verlander said. "The way I thought — and this was all in milliseconds — if I just throw it home, they won't call anything."

It's not very often that something happens like this with professional athletes. I feel embarrassed for him. It's hard to be this bad at something.

Speaking of skinny chicks...oh wait nevermind.

Scarlett Johansson went jogging with her walking cadaver of a boyfriend, Sean Penn, and many of the blogs erupted with rumors she was preggers. Well, it turns out, she's just fat. According to her publicist (read: damage controller), she has been training for six months for her new movie and is in the best shape of her life. I truly don't even know how to respond to that except by saying, "either fire your trainer or fire your publicist." It's amazing how fast a girl can go downhill. One day you're married to the People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive, Ryan Reynolds, and starring in the Iron Man franchise, and the next minute you're disguising your stomach as a human growing inside you by being a competitive eating champion. Couple that with dating an unwrapped mummy from Ancient Egypt and that's probably evidence enough that things are coming off the rails for Scarlett. For the record, if I were a girl, I'd rather marry chlamydia than marry Sean Penn.

The highlight of swimsuit season.

Either Marisa Miller is the result of millions of years of flawless evolution, or she has spent her entire adult life hungry. Her loss is my gain. Skinny girls with big breasts, that's what Ponce De Leon should've spent his time looking for...not that stupid water fountain. What a dip shit.

Derek Jeter is the anti-Christ

Minka Kelly must have been kissed by Aphrodite. Is there another way a girl could be this beautiful. Actually, you know what, there is another way. Turns out this mocha-skinned beauty is the daughter of a former exotic dancer...so in a way, she could've been brought into this world by a dancer named Aphrodite. I don't know about you, but I've never seen an Angel, Fantasia, Cinnamon, Candy, Charisma, Allure, or of course, a Destiny that looks like this. I never got on the Friday Night Lights bandwagon, but man-o-man, this girl makes me want to date a stripper. You have to figure that the apple didn't fall far from the tree. If that's true, there's some cougar/former dancer with an uncanny resemblence to Minka Kelly. In fact, Minka just could've been her mom's stage name. I'm like Sherlock Holmes.

Effortless grace and beauty...oh, let's not forget "curvy"

If you're the star on a show critics like, on a network no one watches, surely you could get your bunion removed so your big toe doesn't drift over the other four. Then, while you're asleep for your bunionectomy, get your DD implants that you've successfully eaten into GG implants removed so maybe, by some miracle, it entices you to do some exercise. If this Quasimodo looking ginger can be famous, anyone can...literally...anyone.

"I'm shocked by this"-- most common statement heard by no one

A Florida man got in a shootout with a SWAT robot while wearing nothing but his birthday suit. The suspect’s dog was the only onlooker as the robot approached the door at the West Melbourne home. Authorities said a man with several guns was suicidal and threatening authorities.

“He said he’d shoot anyone he could,” said Lt. Bruce Barnett with the Brevard County Sheriff’s Office. Instead of risking any lives, deputies sent the $65,000 robot into the home. The robot has cameras, which record all of its actions.

As the robot slowly pushed the man’s bedroom door open, the man came out, stark naked, with an AK-47 in hand. The man then started shooting at the robot. The camera goes out at first, and then comes back on.

The robot came away with bullet holes, frayed wires and broken cables, but no one was hurt.

Let's recap. Naked man, AK-47, suicidal, homicidal...where else could this have happened. Florida. Of course. I bet this shit isn't even shocking to police anymore. This is like an average Tuesday for Florida police. I watched the documentary on Aileen Wuornos this weekend and I couldn't help but notice how crazy people/pedophiles/serial killers, no matter where they were born, always end of calling The Sunshine State their home. If you wake up one day and decide that you wanna be murdered by a prositute hitchiker, Florida is your place. If you decide that you want your neighborhood to show up on Watchdog.com like a Jackson Pollack painting, Florida is your place.