The NBA's Most Retarded Tattoos

I make lots of money entertaining people by running around on a hardwood court throwing an orange ball around and putting it in the hoop. If I don't have the ball, I get the ball.  When someone throws up a clanker, I'm all over the boards and ready to swallow up the orange and look for the outlet pass. When I play, everyone makes money.  Nike. Gatorade.   Even your average gambler or two.  Its the way it works.  I'm on television, and I'm seen by bajillions of people around the world, bajillion is a word right?  I'm not sure you see, because I've spent that much time on the court.  And there aint no books 'round there.  So anyway, I'm seen by a lot of people, so I'm gonna wanna represent myself well. . .  I know!  I'll get a Fred Flintstone tattoo!

Or so Greg Ostertag, thought right before he hit the court in beautiful, lovely UTAH. . .

Look:

Good placement by the way.

But Greg Ostertag isn't the only one.  D-bags all over the NBA are permanently securing their retardation until death with sick tats of cartoon characters and all sorts of other retarded shit.  Come.  Join me.

Marquis Daniels:

Less is more buddy, less is more.

When not sucking on the court, Marquis Daniels likes to get tatted up -- I mean, just look at all of em.  You would think with so much experience getting tattooed that somehow he would have some sort of taste, but alas this is not the case, as his right forearm features a cartoon of a dude blowing his own head off with a shotgun.  The title above it reads:  Only the Strong Survive.  I don't care how strong you think you are Marquis, a shotgun to the face would kill anybody, even you.

Chris "Birdman" Anderson:

We all know and love Birdman, and by that, I mean we all love to hate on him.  With all of his ridiculous tats and fondness for the Mohawk, he is one of the NBA's most ridiculous players, ever.  He's kinda like Rodman, only without the toughness and skill.  Chris use to be a normal guy, in fact he almost looked like a hippie, but then he discovered heroin or some crap and had hallucinations about birds. . . For awhile the guy thought he was a bird, so he got wings tattooed on his arms, bright and red, like a robin's wings.  Aside from that he's also got a chain running up one arm, a bulldog on his chest, and honky tonk written on his belly. Classy... Fucking' classy.

Chris Anderson is kinda like a walking billboard for retardation.  He's what happens when an addictive personality can no longer partake in drugs and alcohol, so instead of destroying his insides, he decides its best to destroy his outside, and turn himself into a total fucking joke while doing so. Way to go!  But Chris, if you were a bird, I would say you'd be a rooster, because you're a total fuckin' COCK.

You suck and you know it.

Loser.

Mike Bibby:

Sick perspective work there, those block letters look like they're melting... but I suppose you'd say that was intentional, right?

Sometimes people get a tattoo to remember an important event in their life, like a wedding or one's first orgy.  Sometimes people get a tattoo to remember a person who changed and helped shape their lives, I know, I've seen that shit on LA Ink all the time.  In Mike Bibby's case, his tattoos serve to remind him of his name:  Mike Bibby, and of his employer and his occupation:  The NBA and basketball.  He also further proves that just because you have lots of money, doesn't necessarily mean you have taste, or know tattoos, because these are by far some of the shittiest looking tattoos in the entire league.

He's also got Team Dime on his back in equally horrible block lettering (see above), with portraits of family members all around it like floating cadavers, and he also has all the names of his children written on various locations on his body, which I assume is in case he forgets them. . . and for the record, he's running out of room.

Shawn Marion:

Sometimes people get tattoos in foreign languages because they think it looks cool, or pretty.  But mostly people get em because they're pretentious assholes. Getting a foreign language on your body usually requires trusting your translator, as if it is wrong, you could end up with Douche Bag tatted or your body in Japanese, instead of Warrior, like you intended. . . Well thats exactly what happened to Shawn Marion, as his tattoo, according to him means "The Matrix," in Chinese, but guess what Shawn?  It doesn't. The Matrix of course is his nickname (Why?  No idea.)  But unfortunately for him, his leg doesn't say The Matrix, it says, literally: "Demon Bird Mothball."  

*cue lulz.

Hey at least this way your jump shot isn't the only ugly thing about you Shawn, you also have an ugly retarded tattoo. . . We can fix your jump shot, but the tattoo?  Uhhh, not so much. (Don't know what Shawn Marion's jump shot looks like?  Well just YouTube search Shawn Marion Jump Shot, it'll be the first video.)

Reggie Miller:

Looks like peach fuzz about the bellybutton. . . and Reggie whats with the limp wrists?

Sometimes people get tattoos because they see someone else with the tattoo, and think it looks fucking awesome.  The problem is people are usually wrong in this assumption, and just end up another d-bag with another d-bag tat.  Cue Reggie Miller.  I suppose after seeing Rodman's tattoo, which is what I assume is a sun about the belly button, Reggie got one too. . . And yes, he looks retarded.

LeBron James:

Sometimes people get tattoos with self proclaimed nicknames and attributes that they think apply to them.  Usually, they don't, and the idea of having 'American Bad Ass' tattooed across your chest may seem cool at the time, but think if you will, what its going to look like when you're eighty.  Sure it already looks ridiculous now, but by the time gravity's done with it and age has turned your hair white (that is if you still have any) you'll look like anything but a bad ass. . . I'm just saying.  Well, this is where LeBron James comes in, who's so egomanical that he's gotten CHOSEN 1 tattooed on his back, because you know, "He's the chosen one."  For what?  Who knows, but its certainly not winning Championship Rings.  ZING!  I'm gonna pat myself on the back for that one.

Nice job J. Wood.

Thanks.

He's also got Loyalty tattooed one his ribs. . . After leaving Cleveland, we can only assume that this 'loyalty' his is speaking of is not to the team nor the city of Cleveland, but rather, himself.  And Chosen 1?  Really LeBron?  After you actions THE ONLY ONE seems more accurate, because that's the only thing you care about: yourself.  And for record, I think you're overrated anyway.

Stephen Jackson:

Sometimes people wanna get some 'gangsta shit' tatted up on their bodies, sometimes people wanna get something religious.  Well in the case of Stephen Jackson, he's some how managed to combine both of these contrasting ideas into one tattoo.  I present to you, 'The Stephen Jackson':

Yes, that's a pair of hands praying, with a gun nestled in between them. Because when Stephen Jackson prays, he shoots up prayer bullets bitch.  And don't you forget it.  Actually, he doesn't pray, he just really really likes guns.

Carmelo Anthony:

Sometimes people get tattoos of famous people, or personalities on television and radio.  Sometimes people put movie company logos on them?  I guess, maybe.  Well Carmelo Anthony did, because he loves all the Batman movies.  Wait, did Warner Brothers do Batman?  I dunno.  Whats best is that Carmelo has another similar tat, the always popular 'tramp stamp,' and its the Oxygen Channel logo.

Kenyon Martin:

Sometimes people get motto's to put on their body, to serve as reminders as a certain way to live life.  Little diddies to live by, short quips to motivate the soul and revitalize the body and mind.  The only problem comes when you fuck up a saying, or are retarded to begin with.  Which is the case with Mr. Kenyon Martin, who got 'I Shall Fear No Man But God' tatted on his back.  Its nice an all, and a pretty good saying to live by.  Only one thing.  God isn't a man.  Just a thought buddy.

Honorable Mentions:

Jason "White Chocolate" Williams:  WHIT EBOY written on his knuckles, so when put together it says WHITE BOY.

DeShawn Stevenson: who got his last name and the number 2 tattooed on his back, just like a jersey, which I'm sure he got so everyone would know who he was when playing basketball shirtless out in the prison yard.

Michael Beasley:  his back reads "SUPER COOL BEAS" which is eloquently sitting atop of a pair of angel wings. . . Because getting super cool tatted on you is super cool. . .  

Marcin Gortat:  Gortat still thinks Michael Jordan shoes will make you a better basketball player, just like he did when he was a kid.  So, he figured if he tattooed Michael Jordan's infamous logo onto his body, it would forever make him a better basketball player.  He was wrong.

Jordan Farmar:  'Just the two of us, framed around a picture of a dude in a basketball jersey holding a basketball, with his arm around the shoulder of presumably his younger sister.  Touching really... Only the artwork blows, the shading sucks, and the text is off-center.  Sorry bro.

Brad Miller:  for his utterly retarded tattoo of Scrappy Doo, in scrap mode:  let me at 'em let me at 'em.

Richard Jefferson:  apparently he and Mike Bibby know the same shitty tattoo artist.  OFF Center Fail

J.R. Smith:  swish neck tat

Robert Swift:  GINGER ANGRY.  GINGER GET TAT.

Most people put a lot of thought into getting a tattoo.  Sure there are always those morons who get tattoos on a whim or when they're drunk, or even for bet, but the average person puts much consideration into it.  Which is understandable, when considering the price of tattoo (or good one at least, and I hope that if you were to get one, you would try and go for some top notch shit,) its permanence, and the pain involved.

Sure you can always get it removed, although I hear thats more painful than getting the damn thing, or you can cover it up, but if you got shitty tattoo in the first place, chances are you don't have taste, or the tattoo sucks, and therefore covering it up will do little more than making it look even more retarded.

I suppose the problem with basketball stars is that they don't have to worry about the money issue.  Yeah they can get any ole tat, any ole time they want. . . But you would think this means they would be willing to put down some dough for a real nice tattoo. . . Yet often this isn't the case, further proving that even basketball stars are fucking retarded.

It is due to their inability to notice that they're permanently degrading themselves for all the world to see, that iR declares this whole damn tattoo fad to be blindly retarded.

HAI GUYZ!

STREET CRED, GINGER STYLE.

love, 

iR

Queen of the D-Listers, in All of BRAVOland: Kathy Griffin

The following blog has been enhanced with photos of dudes who look like Kathy Griffin.

Kathy Griffin has a joke that goes like this:

"Here is my perspective on the Taylor Swift/Kanye West incident.  Which has become a global incident, that even the President has weighed in on. Which is so genius because the President actually called Kanye a 'jackass', which is kind of funny. . . Alright now (talking to the audience) tonight is going to be a multi-media event, so I actually brought a picture of myself with Taylor Swift, because you should know that I know her (apparently shaking hands with someone on the Red Carpet means you 'know' them.)  So she's a gorgeous girl, and blonde, and on the cover of magazines and stuff.  Alright, lemme just say this, I think that that Kanye West thing was the greatest thing that could ever happen to her.  She owes him such a muffin basket, are you kidding? I would kill to have somebody do that to me.  I would give 50 Cent a million dollars to do that to me. . ."

The funny part is Kathy, is that you kinda have to win an award before such a thing can ever happen, and furthermore you kinda need the million dollars.  Also, you forget that, unlike you, Taylor Swift actually has talent, and therefore doesn't need an incident like that to catapult her into stardom (but apparently you do.)  Seeing as how you can't help but totally suck, perhaps you should keep your mind on more pressing matters. Like: where's the next pay check gonna come from?  Because you are entirely unfunny, and actually quite annoying.  In fact, your act has become such a shitfest, that the only way you can muster out laughs from anyone is by making fun of your mother for being an alcoholic. Yeah, that mother of yours, who, by the way, you whored off to the Bravo Network, and they took her in and actually turned her into another D-list 'star,' such as yourself.

To your own mother. . . how could you?

But then again, you know what they say:

Misery loves company.

Kathy Look-A-Like #1:  Which one is the man, which one is Kathy?

The fact of the matter is that Kathy pisses off a lot of celebrities.  Mainly because they feel this talented hack has no real right saying anything about them, even in jest.  But the celebrities aren't alone here, lots of television shows actually feel the same way.  She's banned from appearing on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, Late Night with Conan O'Brien, Live with Regis and Kathy Lee, The Late Show with David Letterman, The Ellen DeGeneres Show, and The View (twice.)  Namely, Kathy Griffin equals bad ratings, unless apparently, its on a lame network targeted towards only a small audience.  She's so horrible, she can't even promote how horrible she is on late night talk shows, and thats all late night talk shows do: promote celebrities.  She was also banned from the Apollo Theatre for making some off hand remark about Kate Gosslin, and was fired from an appearance on Hannah Montana after Griffin made some joke that involved Miley Cyrus running around flashing people her green bra and posing topless.  It is also rumored that she is banned from ever being on CNN because for two years straight she has managed to slip profanity into a live broadcast.

She's kinda running out of networks. . .  So she's taken a little break from it banging on celebrities.  Like I mentioned before, now she spends a lot of time degrading her mother in front of complete strangers:

"My mom drinks like a rapper."  Kathy on her Mom liking Hennessey.

"Around Christmas I usually just give my Mom money in an envelope, like a drug deal."  Kathy on her inability to find the right gift for her mother. (Here's an idea Kathy, kill yourself, it'll stop her embarrassment.)

And by break I mean, a little one.

She has her own television company named Inappropriate Laughter, named after the retarded guffaws of audience members who actually laugh at her jokes.  In reality, its just an offshoot of the Bravo Network, seemingly the only syndication that will even broadcast her face.  With this company she's produced unfunny special after unfunny special, and namely her reality t.v. show My Life on the D-List.

The show actually won her an Emmy, which was more like a consolation prize for years of mediocrity and being treated like a complete loser.  Don't get me wrong, she still is, she just has an Emmy now.  And yes, for being the biggest loser in Hollywood.  Which I guess, is something to be proud of.  It gets better too, because when Kathy did win, she had to taint the whole thing, as usually when you win, you're required to say something.  So Kathy said this:

"Now a lot of people come up here and thank Jesus for this award.  I want you to know that no one had less to do with this award than Jesus.  He didn't help me a bit.  If it was up to him, Cesar Millan would be up here with that damn dog.  So all I can say is suck it, Jesus, this award is my God now."

Kathy Griffin Look-A-Like #2:  Which one is Carrot Top, Which one is Kathy Griffin?

Naturally she was kidding, but she really pissed of the Catholic League. Generally, people don't like it when you tell their god to 'suck it.'  Some called it straight up hate speech, and even was big enough to pick up the loaded sights of Bill O'Reily, who called her a "pinhead."  It was later edited from subsequent showings on E!, as pissing off an entire demographic of potential viewers is not anything any television syndication wants to happen, so Kathy was swept under the rug.

Swept under the rug, but she still has Bravo.

Aside from being the Queen of Bravoland, Kathy Griffin has actually appeared in nearly 50 television shows, including X-Files, The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Hollywood Squares, The Simpsons, and Ugly Betty.  She has also appeared in an Eminem music video, and has been in over 30 movies (all parts under a minute or less.)  Kathy has also done 11 comedy specials, and two comedy cds (the second of which being a holiday comedy cd, though the only mention of any holidays is in its title: Suckin' It For The Holidays), all of them using the term 'comedy' rather loosely.  

These days, she's having an on and off again relationship with Steve Wozniack, one of the co-founders of Apple computers.  Yeah, its weird.

Apparently she's even written a book.

That's even weirder.

Kathy Griffin wouldn't be around if it wasn't for that bastards over at the Bravo Network.  Her career outside of Bravo has consisted of small parts in television shows and movies, usually casted as The Woman Walking Outside, or the Gas Station Attendant.  Rarely does she ever have speaking lines, because having to look at her is bad enough, if she were to open her mouth, you'd change the channel real quick.

But its different on Bravo.

For some reason the gays just love her.  And as such, like Lady Gaga, she probably won't ever die, no matter how annoying she gets.  Look, everyone knows its okay to be a dick sometimes and make fun of celebrities, but you kind of have to be funny, otherwise it just comes out as jealous hate speech. . . Which is exactly your problem Kathy.  You've said some things that have just come off as stupid and moronic, and furthermore failed attempts at humor.  There's a reason you're stuck on the D-List, because you suck and have practically burned every bridge available, with your 'humor.'  You've even been kicked off of The View.

You've also turned your mother into a Bravo phenomenon, ass you've paraded her around not only on your lame as reality television show, but also during your stand-up performances.  You've packaged her as a box-wine guzzling alcoholic, and apparently you don't have any problems with that, and neither does she.  In fact, mommy dearest put out a book with you, entitled "Tip it!:  The World According to Maggie Griffin."  Oh I'm sure its full of great drinking anecdotes, like the time 60 year old mommy got shitfaced and shit her pants.  Oh box wine is so funny, isn't it?

Kathy Griffin Look-A-Like #3:  Which one is Kathy Griffin, and which one is Harland Williams in drag?

Oh and Kathy, I totally love your website by the way, and yes, I totally entered the contest for the chance to meet you in person.  Cross your fingers, everybody!

It is for your inability to recognize how horrible you really are, that iR declares Kathy Griffin, blindly retarded.

Kathy Griffin states as her influence: Joan Rivers, Don Rickles, and Johnny Carson.

Kathy Griffin has actually been a New York Times Best Seller. . . I give up.  Really I do.

Kathy Griffin is a staunch supporter of Best in Drag, a competition in Los Angeles, and has hosted it for 5 years.

Kathy Griffin supports gay marriage: because 65% of her audience is gay. I said it.

Kathy Griffin placed 17th on Oxygen's 50 Funniest Women Alive.

Kathy Griffin has a penis, and its bigger than mine.  Not much of a feat, but anyway. . .

Kathy Griffin is partially blind in one eye, LASIK fucked her up.

love, iR.

Furries: Blind Retardation

Wearing a fur suit use to be something pimple faced nerds and thirty something pedophiles did to entertain snot nosed kids and make a little bit of money, but these days it has taken on a perversion far worse than clown fucking, or pedophilia.  It involves fur suits, something called 'yiffing' and the people who love them both.  These retards, know as furries (or simply furrytards) are individuals who enjoy and often want to be anthropomorphic creatures, which are beings with animalistic qualities, but are still very much human; they can talk and walk around on two feet and even wear human clothes.  To become these animals, many develop 'fursonas' or alternate personalities in which they act and look (with the help of fur costumes called 'fursuits') like the animal they wish to be.

Essentially there are two types of furries.  Furry Type A and Furry Type B.

Fury Type A is predominately made up of people who feel that furrydom is a chance to let out that inner beast trapped inside of them.  These sad sorry souls feel that they were perhaps a bear in a past life, or should have been born one, and the only way - they feel- to express this inner urge is to dress up in a retarded bear costume and start scratching, clawing, and roaring like one.  Others live whole lives through these fur suits, establishing their own characters and storyline, whether alone in their rooms or online with an entire community of other furrytards on forums or in chat rooms.  For most of them, its a chance to escape the harsh reality of being a pathetic nobody that no one really likes. . .

Like Wendy Brooks, age thirty-six, of Minneapolis Minnesota, a single woman who has not yet married and never really had a boyfriend.  She spends her days drawing pictures of her wolf character with a dull number two pencil.  She wants nothing more than a bunch of children, "a pack' all of her own, but in the real world she can't seem to get any man to look at her.  Her fox character, Kefi Wolf Kittens is attractive and a creature of high nobility, a strong, loving creature in tune with nature.

A creature very much unlike Wendy Brooks.

Why must Kefi Wolf Kittens roam this world alone?  WHY?!

She knows Kefi Wolf Kittens can earn her any upright walking half-man-half-wolf she wants, only there aren't many around her area - only simple Minnesotans.  She blames it on the harsh terrain.  She knows however, that one day, 'he' will come, trotting in, his tail wagging, and he will come and lick her face and they'll go and live happily ever after.

Until then, she'll just have to keep drawing. . . 

Furry Type B is far more demented.  These furries have psychological hangups after horrible sexual encounters with men/women in fur suits when they were children at carnivals, theme parks, Chuck-E-Cheese, etc.  They too have furry characters for many of the same reasons as Furry Type A - but they differ in that they prefer to don animal costumes and act like that animal, so that they may fuck other people in animal costumes, as that animal would do if it were out in the wild.  For some, their sexual perversions extend far beyond that, and for the sake of my own sanity, and yours, I'll forgo mentioning them here.  These people, however, are more like Linda Madson, age twenty-six, of Kansas.  Her inner furry isn't even a real animal, its a unicorn.  Linda likes to pose provocatively for the camera, and post them on the internet.  She gets a real kick out of it, and often finds many furry partners this way, including her current boyfriend: a squirrel.  When she's not looking for other furries to hook up with, she's checking out furry porn, refreshing up on some furry erotic literature, or gazing fondly at x-rated renditions of all of her favorite childhood cartoon characters.

Linda's boyfriend, Chip, a squirrel says that when he first saw this photo he just knew he had to have her, and quite frankly, we here at iR understand completely. . . How can you not have a massive boner looking at this?

When asked why her inner furry was a unicorn, Linda calmly paused and blinked dumbly as if it wasn't already obvious.  "I've always loved unicorns.  They're so pretty. . . I've always believed in unicorns."  She said.  "Like I think they are really real, just that no one ever sees them because they don't believe in them.  You gotta believe to see, and I think there's a whole world out there, that like, nobody can see because like, they just don't believe."  Yes, Linda Madson is a real special gal/unicorn, and her boyfriend is one lucky guy/squirrel.

Avatar

The fact that Avatar is about a crippled guy in a wheelchair who is able to enter into (by some bit of Hollywood mumbo-jumbo) a twelve foot tall blue fish person with both animal and human characteristics (even a tail) made Avatar a fucking furry's wet dream.  The entire idea of becoming something you're not, something better than you are, and better than you means some type of animal creature, is right up a furry's alley.  It dramatizes the experience, one glorious furry nut shot after another, and in glorious IMAX 3D!

Which leads one to wonder. . .

Is James Cameron a fucking furry?

City of Champions/Superheroes

Furrytards like to claim that many superheroes are furrys in spandex, as seen with characters like Catwoman and Batman, for instance.  This unfortunate connection between superheroes and furries has developed an entire spawn of superhero furries, developed by furries, for furries.  This means talking animals who walk upright and love to have sex with one another in between dangerous missions with dramatic repercussions, and they have superpowers like fire balls they can shoot out of their eyes, and x-ray vision and other silly shit like that.  These moody bastards will most often sit online playing roleplaying games, where they will just roleplay with them and their "pack" - a collection of other similar minded furry tards - and attack anyone who interrupts them with fire balls and mind powers.

Go away, mere. . . human.

Balazar barked - his tailed whipping about him like a black tail that whips with a blackness like that of a dark black night.  His pack gathered around him as gatherers do, around something, the women purring like kittens safe behind their furred protector.

Balazar growled - "once again, go away mere. . . human!"

Entourage and Television
Furries on television are not received well and rightfully so.  Entourage, The Drew Carrey Show, ER, and others have all made fun of furries with hilarious results.  It is these shows that lead furries to believe that much of their exposure has been skewed.  To them, they feel that they aren't as obsessed with sex as television has made them out to be, even though much of the furry experience is sexual, and can include such perversions as:

• vorarephilia - a sexual fetish where arousal occurs from the idea of being eaten or by the process of eating
• macrophelia - a sexual fetish involving giants
• paraphilic infatilism - a sexual fetish where arousal comes from the desire to, or act of wearing diapers (baby furs)
• pregnancy fetishism - a sexual fetish where arousal occurs from the image or idea of woman in their pregnancy (pregnant furs)
• plushophilia - sexual arousal towards stuffed animals
• infantophilia - sexual arousal toward inflated objects
• toonopphilia - sexual arousal toward anime or cartoon characters
• bestiality - sex with animals
• etc. etc. furries have many kinks

Aside from these anti-fur, furry haters, several production companies do exist, that are run and maintained by furries.  These film companies serve as a visual hub for the entire furry community.  Their films run anywhere from furry service announcements, news shows, convention specials, all the way up to straight up furry porn.  Most of their work is hardly if ever seen by normal human eyes, but if you were to see their work, you would probably find its friendlier versions on Youtube.  SEE?

Mascot folk... lawl

When they aren't making their fursuits, pretending to have claws, and/or drawing photos of their 'fursona's, furries somehow find a way to get together in such large masses that they necessitate an entire convention center.  Their conventions bring furrytards from all over the world (furrydom is apparently a world wide epidemic) to chat about the wonderful world that is furrydom.

Cities that do offer to host these conventions often report a rise in pet sodomy cases when the 'furry folk' come to town. . .

The largest furry incarnation is Anthrocon, held annualy in the shithole that is Pittsburgh.  Anthrocon is held every July and averages a little over three-thousand members each year.  The convention features many furry artists and writers, as well as furry lovers of all shapes and sizes.  It has honored such important furrytards as Dan Decario, creator of Josie and the Pussy Cats, Peter Lairo, co-creator of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and the like.  The Anthrocon is popular because of its groundbreaking concepts, one of which is called The Zoo.  The Zoo is a sectioned of plot of the convention center, where furry attendees can just simply "lounge freely, eat and drink, rest, draw, and chat" in a sort of animal corral for all to enjoy.  Another concept is the Furry Run, where all furry contests compete in a relay race around the convention center.

Over conventions include FurCon, held in San Jose each January, and CaliFur, found right here in Southern California.  Other events include the Rocky Mountain Parade, a full length parade for furries to show their strength in the rigid Colorado Rockies.

Other less known conventions occur yearly, and are known about only by people in the community, as many of the acts that take place during these conventions are not only completely disgusting but also highly illegal.  In 2008, thirty-nine furry conventions took place around the world, exceeding sixteen-thousand attendees and more than two-hundred-and-fifty highly illegal acts.

So it all started with Josie and the Pussycats, but it wasn't all that bad, right?  I mean they are humans, they just happen to wear costumes with animal ears and tails, and that's still mostly human right?  And they are in fact girls, so you couldn't be that fucked up in the head, could you?  But then you remembered when you were a kid and how much you liked Loony Toons, how you liked it more than most kids, and in a different way.  It made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, and safe, and happy, so much so that you still watch it today.  Watching it always helps you remember those good times you had, like that time when you were seventeen and you went with the family to Disneyland, because of the younger kids of course, and how you all took that family photo with Mickey and Minnie, and you remember how Mickey put his arm around you, and how it felt so good. . . felt so good. . . And you looked into his eyes, and you wanted to look forever.

And then there was that time with that inflatable pool raft shaped like a cow. . .

And that time when you watched Disney's Robin Hood and hoped that that fox version of Robin Hood would come and take you away. . . 

And then you started drawing fox figures, and chatting with other fox lovers, and soon this turned into roleplaying and weird sexual acts pretending to be a half human half fox named Dark Wolfe, and soon the whole thing just got weirder and weirder. . . Soon you met a friend online who knew how to make full body fur suits, and you saved up all your money so that you could buy one. . .

Do you remember that first night you put it on?  That night you really became Dark Wolfe, for the first time?  Do you remember how you just howled and howled at the moon, and found solace in being a wolf. . 

So you think you're a furry?

Well unless you've entirely embarrassed your parents and gone through years of therapy, only to still be completely fucked up in the head, and your only friends are furries too, and in the second grade you had a giant crush on Marvin the Martian, and you write poetry or short stories about you and your pack, and then rekindled in the tenth grade that cruh you had on Marvin the Martian you had in second grade, then NO, you're not a furry.

You're just some douche bag asshole.

So you're a furry, I get it.  You like anthropomorphic creatures, but why must it all become so damn perverted?  You look for acceptance, and claim that you've become misrepresented by the media, but all anyone ever sees of you is demented in every degree.  Furries are involved in strange and unusual fetishes, many of which are frowned upon because furry love could easily be considered bestality. . . and what is to stop a person who thinks they are a dog to start going around fucking real dogs?  Beyond the bestiality aspect, furries also engage in many other different sexual fetishes that should remain just that - fetishes to be kept private and concealed from the every day world.  Nobody really cares to hear about how you love just the feeling of fur, about how it excites you, nor do they even want to know that it would be possible for any person to be turned on by the idea of dressing up like an animal and rubbing up on some furrrrr....

Your lifestyle is strange, and in a world where gay men can't even get married, you want to introduce a lifestyle that includes elements from childhood and elements from the deepest and most deranged of sex dungeons.  What creativity you do have is wasted on creepy fur suits that only a complete freak would find attractive and boring long winded furry fiction complete with utterly retarded hand drawn pictures of two fox people fucking.  Not only that but you've found a way to ruin it for us all, by finding a way to make Tony the Tiger attractive, or The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, or any childhood mascot for that matter.

Wanting to be a tiger is cool, when you're like 7. . . And wanting to be someone that you aren't is fine, lots of everyday average people do it too, just most people keep it to themselves.  You guys however put all your shit out on the internet for all the world to see, and its not exactly something without any shock value  You put out video of you fucking and whining like dogs in giant dog suits, and you expect the average normal person to just accept that?  To not ponder what it takes for a person to become that diluted in life?  To worry about their children, and the possibility of furries spreading?

And it is for that reason alone, that iR declares furries to be blindly retarded.

Many furries are artsy people.  They like to draw and write stuff.  Many of them plague a website called DeviantArt.  It is a place for aspiring artists to show their artwork and maybe even make a little money off of it.  Unfortunately however, furries out number normal people on Deviant Art three to one, and are entirely responsible for most of the shit on the site. . . Shit like this:

More furry fan art can be found on Deviant Art, here.

Nazi Furs are furries who enjoy dressing up in fur suits and wearing WW2 Nazi regalia.  Although many of them do wear the Nazi arm bands, complete with SS uniforms, they claim not to be anti-Semitic.  

Babyfurs are furries who enjoy dressing up in fur suits and wearing baby bonnets/diapers.

Burned Furs are furries who have been shunned by their own community.  I shit you not, they have a term for it.

Furry fandom began became in 1980, at a science fiction convention, when a drawing of a character from a science fiction novel started a forum on anthropomorophic characters in science fiction novels.  

The beginning of the 80's is regarded as a popular time for furries, as it was during this time that a lot of anthropomorphic characters appeared in television shows and movies. . . These characters were of course targeted towards children, and not freaks with a passion for plush dolls. . . 

The furry community exists mostly online, with members only going fully into their fursona at conventions and parades.

Furry haters are called 'anti-furs'

Furries even have their own wikipedia, called wikifur. . . Because apparently even furries have no idea what they're are all about.

Some furries "may view animals with a kind of religious reverence, reminiscent of Buddhism, Shamanism, or Otherkin. . . funny I don't remember anything about having sex with animals in those religions, but then again I'm not what you would call a 'religious person.'

thats about it.

love,

iR

Parkour, Because Skateboarding Wasn't Painful Enough

In the concrete jungle, grown men like monkeys swing from lamp poles, releasing into mid-air twists over benches; leapfrog from building to building, sometimes bridging 20 foot gaps; gallop down rooftops on all fours and run up walls.  They are members of an elite pedigree of human savagery, they are freerunners, or tracuers (male) traceuse (female.) Their game is parkour, a sort of poor man's version of skateboarding--without the skateboard-- fused with grace, retardation, and a willingness to possibly hurt one's self for absolutely no reason. It is explained as "the physical discipline of training to overcome any obstacle within one's path by adapting one's movements to the environment," but it is more like gymnastics without all the padding, just concrete.

In other words, if you were to run down the sidewalk and things came your way--perhaps an old lady--in parkour you wouldn't do the normal thing and run around her (wait, why the fuck are you running anyway?) no, you'd jump over her, or maybe kick her in the gut and use her as a launching pad for an awesome front flip which you'd cushion the impact of by going into a roll and then upon completion you'd keep on running, toward the next obstacle. . . Like this:

Weeding out retards one death at a time.

After that video is hard to disagree: parkour is fucking awesome.  Not only can it severely hurt you but its also technically illegal.  That building you're climbing like Spiderman belongs to someone else cheese head, and it looks really bad when-a-God-damn-motherfuckin'-upstart-family-run-business-just-trying-to-get-ahead-of-the-competition has a history of retards killing themselves there, all because the gaps there "look really cool."  People aren't really gonna wanna be shopping there, yah dig?  The act is called buildering, and businesses and law enforcement don't like it very much because it is dangerous and therefore retarded to engage in, and when you complete your act (that is if you don't injure yourself, or die) your prize is your own personal parade with you in the back of a squad car, and when the parade is over, you get your own personal party, in a 10 by 10 cell room with concrete floors, iron bars, and a couple of big mean party guests.

For he's a jolly good fellow. . .

And then they fucking rape you.

For he's a jolly good fellow. . .

Can you parkour through those bars and get away?

For he's a jolly good fellloooowww. . . 

Didn't think so.

Which nobody can deny, which nobody can deny. . .

The whole parkour thing started with David belle, a man with military training, as well as an extensive knowledge of gymnastics.  That's right, this guy can tackle the pommel horse and kill ten terrorists at the same time.

Like this. . .

In 1997, after years of looking like a moron jumping over guard rails and climbing up walls, David Belle had amassed enough footage of his "work" to comprise it together into a highlight reel for the media.  This was the spark that lit the gas fumes of retardation perspired by an empty generation of bored ass people, and although boys and girls in Europe knew all about parkour, it wasn't known globally until David Belle and the news networks got together to showcase this strange yet somehow exciting? world of street gymnastics.  And even then, it wasn't really well known, and still isn't, not really.  Regardless, it is somehow popular enough that a very select few number of people in the parkour community can actually make a living doing parkour, but how much they actually make in regards to this endeavor is unknown.

Despite these few tracuers,  part of the parkour philosophy focuses greatly on community, and not sport competition and rivalry.  The philosophy finds these aspects to be harmful to the sport and its competitors.  Instead it works on the philosophy that one can peer pressure their friends into doing stupid, potentially dangerous things everyone knows they're incapable of doing: all you have to do is push hard enough.  Other theories include that parkour is an expression of freedom for troubled youths "bogged down" by the big city, one which breaks down physical barriers and creates a proficiency of energy and movement and life maaan.

Parkour still today remains hardly noticed.  MTV however recently made an attempt to bring parkour to a certain market, while at the same time utilizing the show to promote even more shitty music.  The show was called The Ultimate Parkour Challenge, and featured some of the best, most "well known" tracuers in the game, including on guy who did everything on his hands, an albino gorilla who could run on all fours, leap, climb walls, everything.  Despite being parkour a show, it completely disregarded the very foundations of parkour, in that it was a competition, in which the winner won an obscure amount of money.  *I believe 5k.

Nobody watched the show, and besides it wasn't all that impressive.  The competitors, though varied in style and skill, often hurt themselves.  One hit his head jumping a gap between to roofs, and had to be wheeled off in an ambulance.  Another hit the side of a train car as if he were flung out of a cannon - he attempted to jump from the top of one box car to a ladder fashioned to the side of another car 15 feet away.  He totally ate shit and iron bars of the ladder acted much like a cheese grater - his skin was the cheese, and he too, had to be wheeled off in ambulance.  Thirdly, another contestant tried to span a 12 foot fence, but didn't - just went straight into it, he was not wheeled off in an ambulance, but did need medical attention.

Damn this parkour stuff seems dangerous...

Besides, every essential component of parkour had been showcased in that one episode, with its winner taking the shows entire budget (bad call there on who ever decided the density of the purse) there was no reason to do another episode.  Good riddance.

Today parkour lives on in obscurity.  

You probably only know of it because of The Office anyway.

So You Think You're a Tracuer?

You've got a friend willing to film you, you've seen all the videos on youtube and have been practicing in your bedroom for weeks. . . But now its time to venture out and prove to the world that you are a real, true to life tracuer.  You don the official uniform of a tracuer, a t-shirt and shorts, for protection, in case you slip and fall on rocks or concrete.  You've mapped out your route, (sitting on the bench, dash off, jump catch the fence, off, hurdle, another hurdle, balance down the top of the daring 1 foot tall wall the thick one, off onto the pole, over the puddle. . .) you know the exact camera angles you want to use. . . Now its just time to do it.

Months of training have lead up to this moment. . .

Let the camera roll.

So close. . .

So you think you're a tracuer?  

You're not.  The only people who are tracuers are the ones who are good, there isn't anyone who's just mediocre at parkour, because if you're just mediocre it means that you're bound to break your ankles, that is, if you haven't already.

In Conclusion

Parkour promotes efficiency of movement, as if to save time, while at the same time stresses being "safe."  But if I really wanted to do that, wouldn't I use the stairs as they were intended to be used?  Wouldn't I just walk down them, instead of hurdling over them?  Certainly, using structures as they were intended to be used is the safest and most efficient way to use them, or ones own 'energy.'  Surely its awful hard to hurt owns self going down stairs, clumsiness and attempted murder aside, so what's all this efficiency and ease of movement bullshit?

Why not come clean?

Why not just say, parkour is a sport for retards who like to do crazy things that could possibly injure them or kill them. . . If you like to do it because you like to do it, then fine, more power to yah, but when you try and come up with some bullshit philosophy as to why you like climbing up buildings and jumping off them, then you're just being blind to you're own retardation.  Furthermore, you're sport is entirely dangerous, yet the preferred attire is similar to one one would wear when playing tennis, short shorts and a tee.

And it is for this main reason that iR declares parkour, blindly retarded.


Futher Retardation


Parkour requires no equipment, just a damaged brain.

The official uniform of a tracuer is a t-shirt and shorts, and comfortable running shoes. . . No other protection is given.

Professional tracuers make a living doing television advertisements and news reports.

Some tracuers actually perform their feats barefooted.

The moves of parkour are based mostly around animals, for instance the Equilibre de chat, translated to Cat balance, is literally the balance a traucer has when on all fours. . . Saut de chat  translates to cat pass/jump, or monkey vault.

Parkour rarely if ever, gets you laid.

Parkout.Net is the home of the parkour campaign to preserve parkour's philosophy against sport competition and rivalary.

An Interview with Carlos Mencia: Blind Retard

NOTE: All opinions expressed by Mr. Carlos Mencia are his own, and are not the opinions of Infinitely Retarded. If you wish to start up a posse to kill and maim Carlos Mencia, please do so, it has been long overdue.

On July 24th, Infinitely Retarded had the distinct pleasure of sitting down with one Carlos Mencia, for an exclusive interview. It was the first of its kind. The following is said interview.

IR: Hey Carlos, how you doin'?

CM: Heeeeeey.

IR: So Carlos, Infinitely Retarded is dying to know, how did you get your start?

CM: I started in the deep south, at some red neck bar full of inbred white people, you know, the kind that confuse half-Fijian/half-Indians with Beaners. Well anyway the bar was a real shitty place, but I was optimistic about my comedy, so I belted out my first line to all these dumb beer sucking backwoods country trash - and that’s what there really were, Josh - trash, and needless to say the joke wasn't very well received. The joke was something I came up with on my own, like "You know you're a redneck if your state's got a new law that says when a couple gets divorced, they're still legally brothers and sisters." And the joke bombed! I couldn't fucking believe it. I thought they were too dumb to understand or something.

IR: Isn't that a Jeff Foxworthy joke?

This halted Mencia. We sat there for several minutes of awkward silence, as I waited for him to answer, and he waited for me to bail him out with another question regarding a different topic. No bail out came, so he continued.

CM: No I do believe he got it from me. . . But anyway I thought maybe their heads were too full of wanting to sleep with their relatives and watch NASCAR, you know, as all rednecks like to do, so I told another joke, completely original and of my own. "You might be a redneck if your family tree has no forks." And I laughed, but I looked around and I was the only one laughing. It was simply unbelievable to me; I thought maybe these dumb hicks had cotton balls shoved in their ears. But then, a very important thing happened in my career. . . One of the dumb swine stood up with his Bible belt air of importance and said "GO HOME BEANER!" as they belted me with beer bottles and booed me off the stage. . . So I did. . . I went to East L.A.

IR: But your home is in Honduras. . . You're half-German half-Honduran.

More awkward silence. It was like he took the words in, and tried to process them but couldn't, like some synapse in his brain had been destroyed due to his own retardation. He was so blindly retarded he couldn't even register the truth when he heard it.

CM: No that was Ned Mencia, that was the old me, I'm a new man now. But anyway, back to the story, I became a Beaner, in Beanerville U.S.A. I became Carlos Mencia - I was with my people, my brothers, mi familia. I wore a Dodger cap and taught my friends, mis amigos, how to walk and talk like a real man, you know, like "Hey man was sappenning" and I taught em how to walk a certain way that made them look like real Chicanos, and it was so funny man, we were all just laughing at my hilariousness and. . .

IR: Wait, didn't that happen in Born in East L.A.? That movie with Cheech Marin? He got stuck behind the border so he taught some real Mexicans to walk like all the Chicanos in East Los Angeles at the time.

More of those brain sizzle synapses that helped prevent truth from registering, fizzing away in his head as he simply just stared at me.

CM: No I don't think so. . . I do believe it was he who stole it from me.

IR: Bullshit aside, how did this lead to Comedy Central?

CM: Word got around. You know, you never really have to struggle much when you've got talent. . . So yeah, Comedy Central picked me up, and said I reminded them of guys like Bill Cosby and George Lopez, in that we told similar jokes, you know, we had the same sort of comedy sort of thing. I was living the good life, I had it all.

IR: I hear you had quite the bike collection.

His eyes lit up.

CM: Had? Still have my friend. Oh yeah, I've got about eight of em, all custom and all original, just like me. No stolen parts, nothing hot - just smooth rides all of my own. . . And they're all American, just like me - they're all Harleys cause I support America and American made parts. . . You know Harleys got a lot of competition from those damn slanty-eyed rice burners, you know, those Kawasabis, or Kakamanies or whatever. They're all special to me, my Harleys I mean, especially the one bearing the Mexican flag on its tear drop gas tank. . . Its like having my native country between my legs at every turn, at every pop of the clutch.

IR: And these were all bought with Mind of Mencia money?

CM: Yeah, yeah, at one point we even had 1.5 million viewers. Mind of Mencia was one of the top rated shows on Comedy Central. But then all the haters came out, you know, like they always do when they see someone like me come up and become a star, and do so with hard work and blood, sweat and tears. . . I've paid my dues, I'll tell yah.

IR: Don't you think there is something a little off, about the similarities between your work and that of others. . . In all this questionable material?

CM: Well if I understand what you are hinting at, I haven't stolen any material, ever. I haven't stolen a single joke. They have however, all been taken from me. Taken from me because of jealousy.

IR: As Joe Rogan said: "Yes, you are a good performer (Carlos). . . of other people's shit.

The comment had struck a chord, mere mention of Joe Rogan orchestrated memories of past battles with him in his head. He was slowly becoming enraged, he could belt out hate but couldn't take it. He was soft, a typical coward so morose and pathetic he doesn't even have enough courage to actually create anything, to actually express himself on his own.

IR: Now that we're on the subject. . . The Comedy Store Carlos, the place where you got your start, lets talk about that.

CM: Ok. . .

He was furious.

IR: From personal research I have found The Comedy Store to be the womb of mediocrity from which comedians like Larry The Cable Guy, Tim Allen, Paul Shore, and YOU, Carlos, are shat out onto this Earth to spread the sadness that comes from failed joke after failed joke. Each comedian succeeding in being more and more unfunny. . . It is this place that I'm thinking I should maybe just bomb; just blow the shit out of, to do us all a favor and rid the world of you and your Comedy Store brethren.. . .

Carlos was beginning to turn red in the face - the German in him was finally coming out. He was finally beginning to hear, and he was gearing up for an explosion. It would be an outburst of vanity and mortified shock that only people who claim the title of celebrity seem to be able to get away with. Simply put Carlos was becoming a spoiled little brat.

IR: I mean you of all people should be all for it, seeing as how you have such a bad reputation there.

Luke-Warm.

IR: You know, how everyone there called you Menstealia.

Warm.

IR: How it got so bad comedians couldn't even perform when you were in the room.

Boiling, Mencia was about to blow his casket.

IR: How they'd be talking and you'd show up and they just walk away, without saying single thing to you.

Explosion - lift off.

CM: NEIN! NEIN! EST SCHIZEL!

The German was coming through again, the real Carlos, that 3rd Reich German stuck in the body of a fat ugly Honduran, but with a mind so racially retarded Honduran just didn't register, so it went with Mexican instead, and lived on trapped in silent misery. The stern German which existed beneath the surface of a jolly joke stealing Mexican, was now coming out right before my very eyes.

IR: And didn't George Lopez choke you and slam you against the wall after he counted 15 minutes of his material on your HBO special? A moment which, by the way, has done much for my respect of George Lopez personally, but does not in anyway forgive the massive turd that was Balls of Fury.

Carlos began his meltdown. He erupted with what I can only assume was 30 years of pent up Nazi rage, rage he was born with but was never allowed to let come out, until now. Hateful slurs in a savage tongue rolled out of his mouth in waterfalls of prejudice as Pandora's box finally pried itself open and spewed out all of her festering innards all about the room. He stomped the floor like Gestapo men in a great long hate march, he leered at us and made famous gestures - quite frankly we all feared for our lives. In the end however, the only victims were a wooden table and the frontal lobe of Carlos' brain - the table destroyed when we had to forcefully restrain him, and the lobe destroyed from the sudden explosion of pent up brain synapses that were finally fired off, only to sear the brain in tiny explosions of retardation.

He didn't even remember a thing.

CM: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sometimes with all the haters it gets tough. It gets real tough, and then you try and go home, but even your own wife hates you. She just gives you that blank stare and rolls over to go back to sleep. And I just don't get it. Even my kids, my kids despise me and don't want to be seen with me. They don't want me to take them to school. I just don't get it. They won't even let me tuck them in at night. . . I just don't get it. Why all the haters!

IR: Isn't it strange that people who talk a lot about "haters" and are concered with "haters" are people who are easy to hate?

CM: Yeah. . . That is strange.

IR: You really are that ignorant. . .

CM: What?!

IR:You're so blindly retarded you are hated by everyone, and you don't even know why. You just don't see why its wrong to steal other peoples intellectual properties and take from their creative enterprises and call them your own. You're the type of retarded comedian that connects with other retards out in the world, on some strange frequency the rest of us normal people can't hear or comprehended. They all flock to you like flys to the warm glow of a bug zapper, and so you make millions, you make millions with other people's shit. You're as obnoxious as one of your custom bikes, as fake as the watered down "Horchata" in your fridge. . . You're not even a Mexican. You're a fake and a sham, and your whole life has been one of disillusionment, of lies, and you're the most conned of em all. No one believes your shit, and oh "I wrote that joke YEARS before" line more than you do. You can't even be hated for your own retardation, you're a copy-cat retard who just so happens to suffer from blind retardation as well. The only good things to come out of your career are A) Getting choked out by George Lopez and B) Getting killed by Kanye West.

Thank you, and good-night.

CM: Wait, good-night?

IR: Yes good-night.

He was bagged, taken out to the Los Angeles River, and was shot. He was left to bleed out into the river - his sort of way of rejoining his people.

Even in his own death, he was an asshole.

Co-Written by Patrick Barnes.

Chris Andersen: Blindly Retarded

The heroin coursed through his veins, his eyes rolled up into his head. He slipped into a haze, he saw great eagles, spreading their wings and gliding over the air, majestic, calm, empowering. He rose to his feet, his arms out, and mimicked their flapping wings, while running around his home in Denver, Colorado. He felt their call, he echoed them with a great cry of his own, crowing like a rooster at the break of dawn. He wanted only to join them, to fly in formation with them, and finally feel the freedom of the open air. . . He opened the doors to his balcony, and spread his arms to feel the wind. . . It was then that he leaned over the railing, as if in a trance, and fell thirty feet in an attempt to fly. His injuries were only minor, aside from a terrible head trauma, which would affect his brain for the rest of his life. It would cause him to commit terrible acts of retardation throughout his personal life and his basketball career. . .

His name is Chris "Birdman" Andersen. He is a total douche, slightly delusional, frighteningly weak-willed, and the center/power forward for the Denver Nuggets.

Chris Andersen, seen here clutching his heart: his rampant drug addiction resulting in a heart murmur, tattoos that can only be described as "faggotry," and a hair cut reeking of retardation.

He has evolved, or rather devolved in the public lime light, in only 6 years in the NBA. What was once a straight edge whiteboy, clean shaven with a shaved head like an Army recruit, soon became a free loving hippie, all anti War, with long flowing hair tucked back behind a sweaty head band. His final and current retardation is consisted of gangster tattoos, inked on his flesh by some idiot tattoo artist, and spiked mohawks. They are all Andersen's equivalent to war paint - donned in an attempt to frighten the enemy, yet Andersen's enemies usually just laugh in his face and take him to the basket, rather than run away in fear.

His career started in the Chinese Basketball League, where he sought to distinguish himself from the other players (being the only white guy wasn't enough) by giving himself the nickname "Birdman." He claimed he could fly around the court, much like a bird, with the wingspan to swat shots and serve up massive dunks. He was all talk though, until he got into the NBA and played through his fair share of seasons, where one night he got totally wasted and got red bird wings tipped in yellow tattooed on his inner arms, coming out of the arm pits. The Birdman was officially born, and etched on his flesh for eternity. His career in the NBA matched his unsavory carrer in the CBL, his best retarded moment coming in 2005 (pre-wings) his 4th year in the league, at the Slam Dunk Contest during All-Star Weekend. He was booked with fellow dunkers, Josh Smith, J.R. Smith, and Amare Stoudamire. At the event, the "Birdman" tries to fly, and comes up short. . . 15 times. . . We can all certainly question his talent, his intelligence and all around sanity, but you gotta admit, he does got heart. . .

Note Lebron and friends laughing at him.

In 2006 he slipped over the edge, was suspended from the league for a period of two years, for violation of the drug policy. His habit was so horrible, his drugs of choice were so menancing, the NBA and Andersen himself have never actually gone into naming names, tossing them all under the safety blanket of just "drugs." And that was that. His career was over, The Birdman would never fly again. . . But he was given the opportunity to come back the next year, after an article and much crying and pleading from Chris Andersen proved that he had been wronged by a wicked woman, who sent him into a deep depression of self loathing and drug abuse. They claimed that his path down the darkside was not because of retardation, but rather a broken heart. . . His suspension was lifted, and he was let back into the league to play for the Nuggets, where he can be seen now, hardly playing man to man defense, opting to stick close to the basket for an opportunity for a swat. Sometimes he comes up successful in such attempts, in which case he flaps his arms like a retarded bird or simply snarls and tries his best to make it appear that the block wasn't a mere accident, but rather a product of talent.

His best moments in the playoffs so far have been on the defensive end, getting dunked on and boxed out on the boards. Some players in the playoffs however, seem to forget that they suck, and suddenly start playing well, despite a bad season and overall lack of talent. Unfortunately, Chris Andersen is one such player, and often has little spurts of scoring or defensive prowess. His effort, however, along with that of Chauncy Billups, Kenyon Martin, and Carmello Anthony will not be enough to beat the Lakers. The Denver Nuggets simply aren't a good enough team, even on their best nights. Enjoy watchin' the Finals, from your plush couches, bitches.

With all of this evidence, Infinitely Retarded declares Chris "Birdman" Andersen blindly retarded.

blind retardation n. - Retardation which strikes a person of normal intelligence, where upon becoming retarded, said person is ignorant of their retardation, or chooses not to see their actions as being retarded. Or simply, a blind retard.