Inside the NBA Moves Indoors; Charles Barkley: Inspirational Retard

The following blog is enhanced with Charles Barkley Quotes.

TNT's Inside the NBA has always been an opinionated show that made no efforts to be otherwise; their show is one of few that basketball stars actually watch and generally enjoy, and such a policy has allowed its fog horn Charles Barkley plenty of opportunities to piss people off and/or make a fool of himself and therefore make the show entertaining to those who don't even really understand basketball.  For this very reason, never before have they been concerned with Chuck and his sometimes controversial statements, but now after comments made by Charles Barkley, they are planning on moving its pregame show indoors as opposed to outside the stadium in lieu of rising tensions between Barkley and Miami Heat fans.

The tensions began when Chuck had the 'audacity' to pick the Chicago Bulls over the Miami Heat in the Eastern Conference Finals.  It pissed of Dwayne Wade and Heat fans alike, and when they complained and started 'Barkley Sucks' chants, he called them all a bunch of 'whiners,' and implied that many of them were just employees at 'McDonalds' and that his life was much better than theirs.  The following Sunday, at Game 3 of the Conference Finals, Barkley's limo arrived at the arena, and the window rolled down and Barkley flipped of a crowd of hecklers waiting outside the arena.

Yet with his rather spotty history, and reputation, why the sudden concern for Barkley?

Well apparently his comments envoked the wrath of King James and Nike.  Nike of course is so concerned with its new cash cow, that they once confiscated a clip that went viral of Jordan Crawford dunking on LeBron James IN HIS OWN CAMP.  Charles Barkley was told confidentially to 'ease off of LeBron.'  The pressure on him by Nike didn't shut him up however instead, he claimed 'atheletes today are wussified,' and that 'these groups today (Nike), if you don't say 100 percent positive about their guy, or their team, they overract.'  NBA players today are wussified?  Yes, but everyone is a wuss compared to you Chuck:

Look an example of Chuck's nonwussyness and the utter retardation of some youtube users!

So TNT has taken Charles indoors, but he still hasn't stopped, and why should he?  He's made a career of being controversial, and has more than once put his foot in his mouth.  He's shown he has the ability to do it, and has often said things that would have gotten much smaller men fired, but he wasn't.  The retardation of Chuck cannot be touched.  Its expected, and entirely inspirational.  He's called his producers pussies on the air, he's suggested the irritating fans should be taken down to center court and beaten during half-time, he's claimed he hates white people, he's criticized GMS, David Stern, coaches, fans, and referees--its like he said, "He's no role model."  He's no role model, and he's certainly not going to take shit from Nike or Miami Heat fans. 

Most recently he's picked the Dallas Mavericks over the Miami Heat in the NBA Finals, and action which has led some Heat fans to claim he's a Heat Hater, and why not? everyone else hates the Heat, why not Barkley too?  Never mind the fact that he's been praising LeBron as one of the best players in the league for the past three years. . . Of course, he's just hating. . . Your thoughts Sir Charles?

And thats why we love you Chuck, you always handle each situation with such class.  Fuck fuck fuck. . . its bullshit.  And what bullshit indeed. Heat fans have been taking shit all season, from other NBA fans and the press, and now that the prize and ever illusive ring is now in their sights, they're unleashing pent up venom brought on by the ever arrogant "I Told You So" disease.  Are fans not to be bitter and envious of the situation that literally fell in your lap Miami?  Are Cleveland Cavalier fans (if there are any left) not to be bitter about the sudden impoverished state they have found themselves in after their golden child ditched their bleak grey city for the sun and sand of Miami?  And is Charles Barkley, a NBA Analyst, paid to spout his retardation for the sake of interest and ratings, not allowed to pick the Chicago Bulls over the Miami Heat, or the Dallas Mavericks over the Heat because its his honest opinion?  Well no, apparently not.  Apparently this is all just the work of some dubious smear campaign designed to tarnish your beloved team.

How shameful.  Did you not shun LeBron James last year?  Did you not give two shits about Chris Bosh like the rest of us last year?  And now that they're donning your colors you're all up in arms defending them against a legendary retard with plenty of contributions to the game.  Oh how fickle is fandom.  But there is one man, ladies and germs, who is not fickle, and that's Mr. Charles Barkley.  From his Gillette commercials to his commentating game, the man has not changed, and has been constantly retarded his entire career.

In fact Barkley loves Miami, if you ever need to find him, he'll be the guy driving around with the smug look on his face after successfully predicting the Miami Heat's demise in the NBA Finals. 

:)

Charles Barkley is untouchable.  When he played basketball he was a rough and physical, and his history of NBA fights account for that, and now as a commentator he speaks his mind and fights just as often verbally.  This of course causes some controversy, but it is what he has done his entire career.  When he spit in that girls face as a player, everyone eventually got over it, and the two then became friends.  When he elbowed that player in the Olympics for 'fear that he was carrying a spear,' the man came up to Barkley and took a photo with him afterward. . .  He's just that lovable, despite being at times disagreeable.  He certainly rubs people the wrong way, but most of the time its people taking him out of context.

This current debacle is ridiculous.  Sure, maybe Sir Charles shouldn't have acted so crass towards the fans, but now that I think of it, for him to act any other way would be very unCharles of him.  Charles is Charles, and people have got to let him be that.  And besides, fuck the Heat.

It is for Charles' ability to say whatever he wants without ever really facing reprocussions for them that iR declares Charles Barkley inspirationally retarded.

Arrested for DUI.  Upon the arrest Charles admitted he was on his way to get some oral sex.  He then offered tattooing the arresting officers name on his butt if he would let him go.

Charles Barkley once hired a famous heckler to try and urk Michael Jordan.  He flew him up to Phoenix and got him a seat behind the Bulls bench.

Announced he would run for Governor of Alabama in 2012, but then quickly changed his mind in 2010.

Charles has written several books about himself.

Charles' Notoriously Horrible Golf Swing

Charles Barkley Calls Himself a Dumb Ass

love, 

iR

Gary Busey is Bat Shit Crazy

It is just writing.  You should try it sometime.  Its really nice sometimes. Just let it go.  No, I never met Gary Busey, or his ex-wife, don't be silly. No, none of this ever happened.  But its really nice sometimes.  You should try it.

Look:

A weekend with Gary Busey is a harrowing experience.

For instance when I first met him he asked me if I wanted a mixed drink: I assumed he meant alcohol so naturally I accepted his offer.  Imagine my surprise when he came into the room kicking a jug of milk with one foot and kicking a can of chocolate syrup with the other.

"What the hell are you doing Gary?"  Yes, even I was surprised by how crass I was being.

"Mixing chocolate milk."

"What the hell do you mean?  They're in two separate containers. . . how is such a thing--"

"What?"  He then came real close to me, close enough to allow me to peer into his Godless crazy eyes.  He smiled like a demon, with those Goddamn choppers of his, making me fear he'd bite my nose off like some ornery parrot, but he just stared at me.  "Just because they are separate, doesn't mean that they're not together!"

"No Gary, actually thats exactly what that means."

"What?!  What?!"

"Fine no drinks Gary, no drinks."

"Fine, no fucking drinks."

He then produced a groan similar to one made by a dieing animal, or a man about to succumb to a seizure; the mind screams and the voice tries to say so many things at once it simply groans, before the eyes flicker and the body twitches.  Quite frankly, its one of the most sickening sounds a person can hear, and anyone who has ever heard it before knows what it does to you, and what rotten waves of sickness come up your spine in tingles of pure electricity. . . Yet with Gary its different, he does it so often that the sickness eventually subsides and no longer makes you want to wretch, but instead makes one want to punch him.

Which is why Gary has those fake horse teeth of his.

He told me, he pulled me in real close and told me, the bastard.

"See these?"  Chomp, chomp.  His left eye squinted, he looked as if perhaps he was shitting his pants.  He then told me.

Listen:

"Boy, you do know, that when you look an animal in the eye as you eat it, you can take its soul and let it nourish you forever. . ."  Before I had time to ask just what the hell he was talking about, he continued, but not before jutting out his right arm and shaking me by the shoulder violently. "It'll nourish you forever. . .  I was at some bar and some bastard thought perhaps he could impose himself upon me."  MAD MAN SCREAMS. "Yeah, thought he knew a thing or two about me.  But listen, what you don't know is almost exactly what you know, only more dangerous. . . " Again, before I had time to ask what he meant he continued.  "Now you're a star in the galaxy.  There are many stars around, but there are no stars like you.  You haven't died out yet, you still burn pure.  And thats a good thing. . . And if you take the energy from these stars, gather em up, you can really make fire.  And thats what this bastard did, right on my teeth. The universe is eternal, unlike all things in it."

He smiled.

"Wait, so how did you lose your teeth?"

He frowned, disgusted.

"Why, I just told you Goddammit!  Are those ears of yours clogged with ignorance?"

The thing is, Gary was right.  You'll see.

"I guess so Gary, I guess so."

Other people will give you a decipherable story, you know one with an actual linear plot line, like the one his ex-wife, Judy Helkenberg told me days later:

"Gary, as you probably have noticed, has a bad cough.  Or we called it a cough anyway.  If anything, its more like a mind cough.  Or a hiccup.  A wildman whoop."

"A goose dieing."

"So you've heard it.  Yes, well back in the eighties, Gary had himself a bad motorcycle accident.  You know its funny, I miss that noise. He wasn't wearing a helmet or anything, and it severely injured him.  The doctors feared it gave him brain damage, and rightfully so.  I think it did.  I really do.  Everyone thought it did too.  Everyone except Gary.  He thought it just brought down the barriers, the guards, but we know better. He said it just made him impulsive.  Made him say things and do things most people think, but never do.  Well, he was at this bar, and he just starting his outbursts.  He was yelling all over the bar, dropping stuff on people like he was saying something real revolutionary and important.  Well after awhile, this guy got sick of it, and the two got into it, and well he just about knocked all of Gary's teeth out."

"Wow."

"Yeah."  She seemed very sad.  "Yeah, but it was all the accident you see. . . I don't know why you're here, I assume to write some article about Gary, but would you please do your best not to defame him?  I mean, he's really got some brain damage going on up there.  After the crash, he never was quite the same.  At least now the doctor has him on some medication, but sometimes he forgets, and he goes off. . . Be kind to him, won't you?  Won't you?"

Gary was right, I was ignorant.  Lots of times thats the case.  Media just isn't fair.  They spin things a certain way and people take it for the truth. People just don't like investigating further, it isn't in their interest.  Its easy to assume certain things.  Its easy to assume.

"I won't."  I said.

She was very grateful.  She tried to offer me coffee, but I don't drink that stuff.  So she tried to offer me some sponge cake, but I told her I don't like sweets either.  I left her with a thanks and a promise to do right by her ex-husband.  When I got back to Gary he was launching golf balls into a nearby lake.

HIIIIYAH!  The white ball took off and disappeared into the clouds, and as gravity had its way it came down and plopped into the water like a dead fish.

HIIIIYAAAH!  Another and another. . .

"So I Gary I spoke with your ex-wife. . ."  I said.

HIIIIYAAAAH, another.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, Gary."

HIIIIIIYAAAAAH!  Another.

"So how bout that motorcycle accident?"  I asked, I knew it was kind of a douchey move.  But work is work.  Yah dig?

"What about it?"

"You tell me?"

He stopped whacking balls.  Instead he took his nine iron and chucked it into the lake HIIIIYAAAAH.

"She tell you how it changed me?"

"Yes."  I said.  "You think it changed you."

"Hardly.  It takes years to make mountains you know.  It takes years to make sand.  And there's no one anywhere who can say that the sand is any less than the mountain."

"Oh yeah?"  I had no idea what he was getting at.

"Yeah, you ignorant boy?  Sand, although finite can be stretch across the stars and measure Godliness."

"Yeah Gary..."  This was all pointless.  "I gotta get going."

"Then go, boy."

"Bye Gary."

"Hello is no different from goodbye."

"Sure Gary, sure."

I stopped.  I left and took the notebook I had been writing in and took it home with me.  I placed it under my bed, and after a few hours and a couple of drinks, I returned to it and tore every damn page out.  It was some asshole story about how Gary likes to eat paint, and how Gary likes to paint with chocolate pudding.  About how Gary doesn't like horses, he prefers bulls.  About how Gary's got his own line of clothing, modeled after shopping bags.

It was a real rotten piece.

Just tore it up and burned it.

Sorry.





Gary Busey has gotten a real bad rap in the media.  Yeah, he's fucking crazy, and at times fucking retarded, but unlike most celebrities, this isn't because he's stupid.

His brain is damaged.

That motorcycle really did him in, kind of like Bob Dylan, but even more so.   Even still, Gary Busey has amassed himself quite the career.  He's done more than a hundred movies, and has done at least one every year since 1971.  All these movies, and all anyone can say about him is that he's bat shit crazy, and thats not entirely his fault.

If you ask me, that makes Mr. Gary Busey pretty damn bad ass.

He's also been in television, most recently Entourage, which has depicted Gary as bat shit crazy.  And guess what, Entourage is kind of right about that.  Although recently, his doctors have found that his accident did indeed cause brain damage (before that they were just fearful of it,) and Gary never really wanted to acknowledge it (who the fuck would?) but these days he's taking medication to keep all the chemicals in his head right.

If anything, Gary's a really nice guy.  He's fucking cool too.  Being friends with Hunter S. Thompson just further proves that.  Sure he looks like he fell asleep next to a giant set light, but he's all in all, a good guy.  I say it, so it is so.  Despite being crazy, he's done far more better work than any other actor who's been labeled "sane," and that fuckin' says something.

It is for these reasons, that iR declares Gary Busey, inspirationally retarded.

love, iR

Rob Schneider the Deep Sea Pilotfish

The Early Years; or The Cookie Cutter Kingdom

Some celebrities are so big and frivolous with money that they, like sharks attract parasites that gladly feed off of their leftovers; pilotfish and human chancre sores who without the benefit of such a lovely relationship would be down the drain and off to sea - bye-bye. Adam Sandler is one such shark in the douchey waters of Hollywood, and his pilotfish live fat off of his weak heart made far too papery to turn away even the scummiest of friends.

Friends like Rob Schneider.

But don't let Rob fool yah, he's a slippery one, a chameleon of the silver screen with the ability to cover up his inabilities with prosthetics and fake mustaches. For Rob Schneider, the ability to make himself unrecognizable isn't just a part of his job, its an integral part in forgetting that he's mediocre, and always will be - and only got to where he is today because he's a half Jew who happens to know Adam Sandler.

Observe:

Shitty blurry quality because blogger.com sucks bawlz. better version here.
If you had to look at that Jew Fro and pair of Steve Buscemi bug eyes in the mirror everyday, you'd consider prosthetics too.

Rob Schneider was born in San Francisco, California, in 1963. His parents, having looked around and found nothing but beatniks, spades, and soon-to-be-hippies, decided to leave the dangers of the city for the Formica safety of suburban life. A good decision when considering that the boy would have spent his more vulnerable years in the very heart of the ballooning ideas and social change that was Frisco during the 60's. An even better decision when considering the fallout of that social change, when the balloon finally burst and there was very little to do other than pick up all the pieces scattered about like confetti. Ultimately, it was a decision which made him the weird bastard he is today. There's just something about squared off normal living that isn't normal.

It is in this suburb called Pacifica that Schneider witnessed a life that was plain and monotonous. He use to sit on the porch and watch all the fathers come in like clockwork after work, in cars like big boats, coming home expecting a hot meal to be ready and already on the table. He watched days drift on by with a fluidity that only changed when someone died, or when the old became annoying and were shipped off randomly to live in special suburbs made up of nothing but people like them, of nothing but old people. He watched it all, and he was terribly bored.

Terribly bored and it was all his parents fault for playing it safe. For sticking him in a doll house on a street full of other doll houses occupied by dolls that were all insane.

So, like many suburban kids, he took to doing his best at constantly pissing them off.

And so like many suburban kids, he pledged to never be them, and therefore did his best to act as wreckless as possible.

Straight out of high school, he went into comedy, which he assumed his parents hated - for only a humorless bastard would choose to live in the cookie cutter kingdoms of 'pleasant living Pacifica.' Unlike his parents however, Rob was apparently funny. He worked nightclubs around the Bay Area for 5 years until he won a spot on the 13th Annual Young Comedians special. Although he didn't win any awards for his stand-up comedy, he does have the distinction of being one of the few douche bag comedians NOT to come out of Mitzi Shore's The Comedy Store. A year later he was picked up by Saturday Night Live as a comedy writer, and eventually became a regular on the show. Admittedly some of his best work, but more importantly Saturday Night Live is where Schneider met Sandler.

What followed were the Parasitic Years.


The Parasitic Years; or Sex Acts for Movie Parts

Since Schneider's first appearance in Waterboy, and the handjob he gave Sandler to get in it, Rob Schneider has appeared in 10 more Sandler flics, and performed countless sexual acts, each growing more and more perverse with each movie. He is also slated to appear in one more flick not yet released (Grown Ups June 2010). Tack on a music video, and 6 movies produced by Happy Madison, and you've got nearly 80 % of his movie career - all thanks to Mr. Sandler. Sweet.

In regards to the quality of these films, well that all depends on the specifics. Is it a Rob Schneider movie? Well then yes, the movie most probably sucks balls. If he's only making a cameo, than its either hit or miss. There is an exact theory in fact, that many Hollywood studios are well aware of (except Sony,) called The Rob Schneider Threshold. The threshold of course referring to the number of minutes Rob can appear in a movie without dragging it down and all hopes of turning a profit with it.

The theory states:

"Any move, film, or short, whether live action or animated featuring Rob Schneider for more than 15 minutes collectively, or more than 5 minutes in one scene is destined to be a flop and utter shitfest."

Critics don't like him much either. In fact they most often find him offensive. For instance, his part as the Japanese minister in I Now Pronounce You chuck and Larry, was considered a throw back to the prejudice representation of Asians dubbed "Yellow Face," all he was missing was the two large front teeth like Chicklets. His Hawaiian character Ula in the film 50 First Dates has been compared to Spicoli meets Cheech and Chong - a sort of stoner with an intense love for the ocean, so great in fact that he doesn't seem to mind shark bites; though it could easily be assumed that he's too retarded to find them dangerous. . . And I'm sure Armenians are upset his portrayal of an Armenian landlord in Grandma's Boy wasn't hairy enough, and besides he wasn't even very good at speaking Armenian. Yet Schneider has all the money regardless, and with it he often uses the power of the press to really stick it to any naysayers. He spends money on ad space to publicly call critics who have given his films bad reviews douchebags - in so many words. He's done it with Roger Ebert,and we can only hope that we're (I'm) worthy of such a distinction. . . that is, if he ever reads this.


Many of you may think that he's probably right, but worry not, for I won't go on much longer, as I am already grasping at straws. Nonetheless, lets see what my notebook has written next, shall we?

Aside from the movies, Schneider has also appeared on Inside the MMA, with none other than dangerous retard himself, Bas Rutten. It seems Schneider even had the balls to poke some shots at him citing "how sucky it must be to get beat up a person who enjoys it as much as you. . ." He grinned and then did a shameless impersonation of the man, perhaps not realizing fully what he was doing; waving a long dense red flag in front of a mean and tired bull, out of action but still running clean through with that aggression. . . Or maybe Schneider dared assume the man wouldn't kill him on live television - would he?

You bet your ass I would - grab you by the head. . . maybe a headbutt, a left straight and it would be over. . . who's laughing now funny man?

So what next? you may ask. (Or not. Mostly I've been asking myself this.) Well that all depends on how far rob is willing to go to appear in the next Sandler flic. I hear for the movie Grown Ups Rob had to hire a whole menagerie of wild animals and don a bondage suit before Sandler was excited enough to even consider Rob for the part.

iR

Further Retardation

Duece Bigalow made 95 million dollars.

Impersonations include Adolf Hitler, K.D. Lang, and Elvis Presley. Hitler because its mandatory of any Jewish comedian, K.D. Lang because Rob is practically her, only with a penis, and Elvis Presley because well - anyone with hips and an upper lip can do a Presley impersonation.

Hosted the 1997 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit T.V. special - why? Still no one knows.

Realizing appearing as himself would be detrimental his career, Rob appeared on Leno (Boo - Leno - Aww I don't give a shit) in drag, as Lindsay Lohan, who apparently couldn't make it to the show because she was too busy getting wasted.

The Truth

Rob Schneider is actually a really nice guy - he donates money to kids and everything. He even has a certain keen eye which defines Hollywood as a collection of douche bags and assholes.

Rufio, Rufio, Ru-fi-Oooooooooooohhhh


Totally un related, but look, its Rufio!

William Shatner: Inspirational Retardation

Those ever graceful eyes, with the power to penetrate your soul, through the television screen, or even the internets. They sit like two bits of burning coal, in a face of elegance, that of the daring alpha male, Captain Kirk. They stare down at you, and you can feel your heart beat irregularly, your temples quicken their pulse, your hands clam up. . . It can only be described as the Shat Effect, an effective tool which can be used to turn even the holiest of women into a yerning jelly, aching for the touch of a man. It is William Shatners patented move, one which he has used to great success: he has been married four times, and has had more than his fair share of Star Trek extras, who sought to fuck their way to the top, failing to realize that fucking The Shatner gets you nowhere but pregnant, down, and out.

He is one of the few things to come out of Canada: its all beer, hockey, and William Shatner.

He was born William Alan Shatner, on March 22, 1931 on a typical boring cold night in Canada: kids skated out on iced over ponds, pretending to be their favorite hockey stars, men sat drinking beers, saying nothing but "aye." His parents were a pair of staunch Jews, who had escaped Poland and Hungry, and sought America as a place to start fresh. . . Yet they weren't allowed into America, on account of their lack of talent and general ugliness, so they went to the only next logical place, Canada, America's retarded little brother. His childhood there, proved to be enough for him, he loved to piss in the snow, skate on the ice, and whatever the Hell else Canadians do. He seemed to be an academic scholar, one of only a handful of Canadians who graduated from high school in 1949, out of a class of at least 700 students. From there he went to McGill University, where he earned a bachelor's degree in commerce. With a degree in hand, and a wide open future in Canada, Shatner aimed his eyes toward the sky, and never, ever, looked back.

Having been classically trained as a Shakespearean actor, Shatner headlined various plays in Canada, until he got his first movie deal, playing the main role in a movie titled "The Butler's Night Off," and at the age of only twenty years old. It has still never been seen by human eyes, outside of the editing room, and there are no known copies to be in existence, as the director reportedly burned the original copy in sake of his own reputation, and all tapes that were released, were immediately destroyed by any who had the misfortune of coming upon them. He then did "The Brothers Karamazov" and "The World of Suzie Wong," two similar movies that only a limited number of people have ever seen. One of his more memorable works, however, came years later, when he was offered a part in an episode of The Twilight Zone. The epsiode was entitled "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet," throughout which he used his Shakespearean methods to convey a increasing look of terror, after continuously seeing a wanton creature tearing up the internal components of the wing of the plane he happened to be flying on. The success of the episode, among the 100 or more other episodes The Twilight Zone has churned out, can surely only be attributed to the genius of Rod Sterling and his writing staff. Shatner had nothing to do with it, having only been in the right place at the right time.

Drinking heavily with the success of his Twilight Zone episode (money flowed much easier, and as a result so did the booze) Shatner got his next big defining moment, one which would haunt him as he grew older, and no doubt will define him in death. It came in the form of a pilot episode, written by Gene Roddenberry, one about a starship called the Enterprise in the 23rd century, and its impenetrable crew of douche donkeys.

" Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no man has gone before."

Basically every Star Trek episode. . .

Star Trek. Taking the starring role as Captain Kirk, the original series of Star Trek managed to grab less then stellar ratings all three seasons. In 72 episodes on NBC, Star Trek skirted along that dangerous edge of cancellation. It wasn't until after the series was finally ended that it developed a cult following in the 70's, after all the acid and drugs had turned a large percentage of American's brains into Swiss cheese. Their fans were mostly geeks, who tired of Dungeon's and Dragons, and total stoners who had nothing better to do on a Friday night at 10 pm. But before Star Trek ever took off, The Shat took to building himself a music career, perhaps realizing his acting wouldn't get him anywhere.

1968, the world is shocked by images of National Guard beating protesters with billy clubs, and the bayonet picket fences they fixed all around the country. . . Lyndon B. Johnson is on his way out, and an end to the bloody war in Vietnam is still miles away. . . Yet in these times of turmoil, Americans had an outlet through which they could escape the cruel realities of the world: Shatner's debut album The Transformed Man. It was a bastardization of all things holy, effectively destroying any love anyone had for Bob Dylan's Mr. Tambourine Man. The album included orchestral music, highlighted by Shatner's Shakespearean influenced monologues, which turned lyrics into a sort of retarded chant, void of any sensibility at all. Second on the album, was a Kirk like rendition of The Beatles' Lucy in The Sky With Diamonds. Lucy. . . . in the sky. . . with diamonds. . . with diamonds. . . The album was a giant flop, and is often cited comically, its songs only used to further bash The Shat.

With the album going nowhere, The Shat was stuck in the shit for two years, until Star Trek finally caught on, making him a pop icon and geek hero. . . From there he lived out an egotistical existence, flip flopping between his real self and Captain Kirk, until he couldn't tell the difference. His head filled to overflowing, he was an influential man at Star Trek conventions, explaining in detail how everything on the Enterprise worked, how he developed his fighting style, and even how often he got laid. He was a messiah to Trekkies everywhere, his visage on walls throughout the country, in rooms where total douches lived vicariously through him. Being associated with such retardation would bother most people, but not The Shat. . . He bathed in it, he breathed it in, it was his very life force: he echoed the famous line accredited to the Devil "I'd rather rule in Hell than serve in Heaven." It is through these years that he collected his many wives, and birthed three baby Shats: Leslie Carol, Lisabeth Mary, and Melanie. They would prove to be the only women who would stay with him throughout his life, Lisabeth with him still today, taking in questions from retards who still happen to be Shatner fans. They can be seen on Youtube, if you dare venture to hear the words of an aging egomaniac, still trying to suck up the fame he once had in his life.

Life after the Trek included mild appearances across the country, and the occasion rehash of Roddenberry's original work. In 1982, he took up the role of T.J. Hooker, a fifteen-year veteran on the force, still riding high on justice and enforcing the law. The show lasted two seasons, extending 4 years of retardation and horrible, forced acting.

Today, he has to his credit a rather extensive writing career, creating various sci-fi novels (although there has been rumored to be an underwriter) including several of his own Star Trek books. He has a star on the Canadian Walk of fame (a whole 30 people strong), as well as the Hollywood Walk of Fame (a whole 2,000+ people strong.) His music career started up again, after befriending Ben Folds Five, creating various albums, with newer songs, but all with the same Captain Kirk-isms. He is also well know for taking on any job: he has whored himself for Priceline.com, World of Warcraft, and Kellogs All-Bran Cereal (England, UK.) When not shitting on his image, The Shatner enjoys tending to his horses, as he owns a stable and several thoroughbred race horses. But Shatner never rides them, the only ride worthy of the Shat is the Enterprise.

Although Shatner is indeed retarded, he is actually quite inspiring. His list of movies is surprisingly long: he has done 53 movies, and not all of them (fortunately) are Star Trek. He has also appeared in almost twice as many television shows, and has accumulated 3 Emmys throughout his career. He has churned out nearly 20 books, and 5 albums.

Shatner: inspirational retardation.

inspirational retardation: Retardation which adheres to all the general abnormalities, but differs in that it may actually inspire others, whether they are retarded, or not. Said victims still live out a happy life, and in some cases, have actually made something of themselves.