Roman Turek Profile In Courage Award

It's Friday, and that means just one thing: sailors do it wetter, soldiers do it better, and cowboys stay in the saddle just a little bit longer.

Huh? What? Oh yeah, yeah, you're right. It is also that time of the week when we present the Roman Turek Profile In Courage Award (the RTPIC)!

As you locals know, this was a pretty busy week. Elections and civic spirit for all it would seem. About half the city voted, which means you can start packing your snowballs and scheduling your vacations to hell; it seems to us that it may have gotten quite a bit cooler.

Congratulations to Barb Higgins for running a campaign, congratulations to Ric Mciver for not killing himself as the results rolled in, but the largest and heaviest dap is reserved for the winner, Naheed Nenshi. We poked fun at him a wee bit about him still living at home, but that just proves we are douchebags. His father is apparently very sick, and Nenshi is just being a good son. Of course, some of the Domebeer-aholics were eager to point out that the effeminate, 38 year old mayor is a bachelor. We got no comment.

So with the local loco out of the way, let's get to the nominees for this week.

Our first nominee is Google. For being evil, obviously. Actually, we applaud Google in it's efforts to pay as little tax as possible, as evidenced by their head office in the Cayman Islands, via Irish tax law, via negotiations with the IRS. Those negotiations must have been great theatre: Now, IRS guy, we are much, much smarter and wealthier than you. If we want, we won't pay Uncle Sam a dime. But because we are nice, here's a shekel. Now go run along, you have mom and pop shop owners to harass.

Honestly, Domebeer-aholics, you know we love the flat tax concept here, and now you know a little more why. Under flat tax, you eliminate all those pesky little loopholes rich people get their lawyers to lobby for in the tax code. Which means a company like Google would have to pay whatever the proscribed rate is, not a made up 2.5% rate they are only paying for PR anyways.

But hey, if you still think byzantine tax codes, political influence, and Jacobin progressive tax rates are good things, power too you. You're only slightly less stubborn than Darryl Sutter is with his Olli Jokinen fetish.

Our second nominee is Richard Branson. Oh, we're sorry, that's Sir Richard Branson. Sir Branson's Virgin is close to offering space tourism. In case you are jaded, that means he is taking people up from Earth into Space-space. Not space-one mile above the earth where you can see black, but space-space, where your head explodes if you poke it out the window. Space-space, where Buzz Aldrin lost his mind-mind. You crazy capitalist, Branson, what will you think up next? A way to pay only 2.5% income tax, he replies.

Our third nominee comes from California, which we point out only because if we didn't, you may assume it had taken place in Egypt. Why would we say that? Because this California women has been driving around town with a dead woman in her passenger seat, mummifying it. Is being insane a requirement to live in that bankrupt state? It's not required, but it sure seems to help. This woman, let's call her Patty in reference to her being of a property owning class, befriended this homeless woman, let's call her Pleby in reference to her non property owning status. Anyways, Patty the patrician and Pleby the plebian became fast friends, and would often hang out at Pleby's place, the city park. Anyways, one day Pleby asked Patty if she could sleep in Patty's car during the night. Patty agreed to this decision, and the arrangements were made. All was going swimmingly until Patty opened her car one day and discovered Pleby had decided that Patty's car was a perfect place to expire. Poor Patty, she has clients to get to. What to do? Throw clothes over the dead body, and buy a box of baking soda to deal with the smell, obviously. And that is just what Patty did, and continued to do so for about 10 months. Turns out if you treat a body in this manner, it turns into a mummy, which a curious passerby had the unfortunate fate to discover. Patty hadn't done anything with Pleby's body because she thought she would get blamed. Only in America.

This week's winner of the Roman Turek Profile In Courage Award is: Garbage Baby!

Or Dumpster Baby, if you prefer. The story should be familiar to most of you by now. That old tale about boy meets fat girl, boy's fat girl is so fat boy fails to realize she is pregnant, fat girl goes Sparta on boys baby, boy discovers his baby in dumpster. Who hasn't been in that situation, right?

The best quote ever: "When I first met her, you would almost assume that she would have been pregnant and she wasn't."

While the father and mother of the baby were busy dealing with the police, Dome Beers managed to get an exclusive interview with Garbage Baby.

DB is Dome Beers, GB is Garbage Baby.

DB: So, Garbage Baby, can we call you Garbage Baby?

GB: Ha ha ha. Let's all point and laugh at the guy who was taking a nap in some garbage. Very mature. Listen DB, I'm like 5 hours old. I didn't know it wasn't socially acceptable to sleep in a pile of used ketchup bottles and empty Frito-Lay bags, ok? So just back the hell off.

DB: So...

GB: Yeah, you can call me Garbage Baby.

DB: Good. So Garbage Baby, your mom claims she didn't know she was pregnant...

GB: Yeah, I've heard that, DB, and I have to say, I'm not to happy about it. I mean, how stupid could you possibly be, right? And this woman is my mother, so I may have her stupid genes in my blood. It's really scary to think that I may grow up to be a fat idiot like my mom. It's chilling, it really is. I have this whole life ahead of me, and I can't just go out and live it because I may be a fat stupid slob.

DB: Garbage Baby with some harsh words for his mother.

GB: I should apologize. It's all the cigarette butts I was smoking, you know, when I was abandoned in a garbage. I never believed those advertisements, but those things really are addictive.

DB: What?

GB: Yeah, someone had thrown out a pack. There was this gross picture of a baby that had been born too early because his mom smoked on the pack. How soft is that? I saw that picture and smoked two right away. I've been through it, man, what with being thrown naked into a garbage bin , and that stuff don't get to me.

DB: How did you get them lit?

GB: Hey, you know what's actually pretty tasty? Banana peels. Banana peels are pretty tasty.

DB: You mean bananas, not the peels.

GB: No, I was left in a garbage. I mean the peels.

DB: That's disgusting.

GB: I also ate cardboard. Anyways, you have some questions you wanted to ask me?

DB: Directing the interview and you're not a week old. Pretty slick, Garbage Baby.

GB: Was that another garbage joke?

DB: It sure was, Garbage Baby. Listen, the season has started, actually it started pretty much the same way your life did: in garbage. What are your observations on the team so far?

GB: Well, I know a lot of people have concerns right now. Iggy isn't scoring, Jokinen seems to be a bust, Ivanans can't even serve as a punching bag, let alone an enforcer. Kipper is letting some softies in, Bourque is already getting injured. I know people are down in the dumps rights now. But I think fans should just keep their heads up. You never know when your dad is going to rip open the garbage bag.

DB: Isn't that insane? That your own father was the guy who saved you? Garbage Baby, we were going to make him the RTPIC winner we think he's so cool.

GB: I think that guy is really cool, too. Nothing bad to say about that guy. Well, perhaps his choice of mate.

DB: What do you think about the Stamps chances this year?

GB: They are a good team with a lot of potential. I would hate for them to waste this opportunity to win a Grey Cup.

DB: Subtle Garbage Baby, very subtle. What do you think the future holds, Garbage Baby?

GB: DB, seriously, I still have my umbilical tube attached. I'm covered in uterus juice and filth. You're trying to ask faux-deep questions like what does my future hold? I don't have time for this shit. The future holds a bath. Garbage Baby out.
...

Who wants to start the trust fund?

Furthermore, I think Peter Loubardias should be fired.