College basketball brackets aren’t the only thing people are slicing and dicing this week—how about…testicles???
Yes, today was the culmination of the second annual VASECTOMY MADNESS Challenge from Washington DC radio jocks (ha, yeah I said it) The Sports Junkies of station 106.7 The Fan.
(Want to enter next year? Remember the URL 1067TheFan.com/BALLS. I can’t make this stuff up.)
Desperate area men submitted their stories in hopes listeners would vote for them to win a free vasectomy from Doctors Paul Shin and Jason Engel, of Urologic Surgeons of Washington. The three finalists included:
Mike, whose wife underwent successful in vitro fertilization, resulting in their three kids. Annnnd, that’s enough he says. Plus having more kids would put his wife at serious risk because of a fallopian tube disorder.
Eric, whose wife’s third pregnancy resulted from a party hosted by the Junkies themselves. Now she is on bedrest with an I.V., and he’s taking off work to care for the kids—so less money for growing costs. And then there’s our winner…
Cowboy Mike, who sort of defies explanation beyond, as one Junkie put it, “dirty.” For one, Mike lives in an actual “yurt,” sort of like one of those “Game of Thrones” tents, minus the wine and wenches.
Recently, my phone’s message light blinked green-green-green above an impossibility: a message from my 20-year-old nephew, Hunter. And not his usual grunt response to some sports story I texted him:
—“Tom Brady just threw a touchdown so hard the CHEERLEADERS CAUGHT FIRE!!!”
No, this was, like, full sentences. He was going on a Kenyan mission trip, with a stopover in London. He knew I had studied there during my Centre days and wanted to know what sites to squeeze in.
So I advised him on key landmarks: Big Ben, Parliament, Piccadilly Circus’ neon thrum. But I realized that my happiest London memories weren’t those famous places, but the tiny moments, the ones you don’t scratch into a travel journal. You’re not having tea with the queen; you’re sitting in the dorm room window with your roommate Lynn, swinging your feet and feeding the geese below with crust from the all-you-can-eat buffet pizza you pilfered under your jackets because you’re so Pound-poor.
Yet that window is where you become best friends, even today.
The “Raiderettes”—the Oakland Raiders Cheerleaders—are suing the organization.
(Go ahead and giggle, guys. And may you someday have cheerleader daughters.)
And the suit actually, for once, has nothing to do with sexual harassment. So that’s a step in the right direction. Instead, current and former cheerleaders are suing for wage theft and other unfair employment practices, including not paying the women for time worked, and not compensating them for their business expenses.
(And if you DO have a cheerleader, or dance, or pom, or pageant daughter, you know just how much that top shelf hairspray can be.)
This is a huge step back for the squad, which includes a lawyer, several business owners, a software sales executive, and a Ph.D. candidate in biochemical engineering. The suit alleges that the women’s pay is withheld until the end of the season, if they are paid at all, and if they are, it is $1,250—TOTAL—an average of $5 an hour if you count rehearsals, hair and makeup time, travel, photo shoots and performing—and that’s not counting appearing at events for which they are not compensated.
Re-hiring a Man Rihanna Wouldn’t Take Back, Why Ski-Jumping Hurts Your Lady Parts, and Why Won’t Alex Rodriguez JUST GO AWAY ALREADY????
The latest post from my sports blog, The Ladies Room…