It is a kids' game, after all.

Every now and then some sort of argument will arise regarding athletes, salaries, and privilege. It's inevitable with every round of new high-power contract negotiations, or whenever some kid announces he's either leaving college after his freshman year to "pursue his dream" or worse, declaring as professional after graduating high-school.

In the US, this phenomenon of kids becoming pros tends to be restricted to the NBA. However, abroad, particularly in Merry Olde England, it's the realm of football. Oh, it's had it's appearance in soccer here in the US, with underage phenom Freddy Adu signing with the DC United at 14. But England is showing us that we, when it comes to speculating in kiddie-athletic prowess, are mere pikers.

Manchester United, the Montreal Canadiens of the Premier League, have signed 9-year old Rhain Davis, to a contract.

Yep. 9. A kid that still cries if he skins his knee, and who believes that crawling completely under his bed covers will protect him from monsters at night.

Oh sure, the kid's got skills. Check out the YouTube video below to see him shred defenses and leave other 9 and 10 year old boys scattered on the pitch, embarrassed, ashamed, and at the mercy of heaps of humiliation at the hands of their over-competetive fathers.



The thing is, while this kid is obviously ahead of the curve, it seems that he merely looks amazing in comparison to kids who are obviously still kind of new to this whole idea of kicking a round ball.

And it makes sense. See, this kid is a Pom living in Oz. Now, soccer is not the big thing in Oz. As my mate from Melbourne tells me, Cricket, Rugby, and Aussie Football are the kings down there. In fact, soccer has only started to gain any real traction as a result of the surprising showing the Socceroos had in Germany last year. So, the chances are most of these kids are in their first or second year playing, while Rhain hails from footy-mad England, and has a father who would run him through dribbling, passing, and shooting drills for hours since the boy could balance on his two feet, and who would withhold both food and clothing, while threatening to force the boy to eat Kidney Pie and other British "cuisine" as punishment for mistakes.*

The punch-line is, this isn't a rare occurrence. According to a Man U spokesman, "[Man U] signs about 40 players of Davis's age every year [to it's developmental academy] and, as is standard, will decide annually whether to renew his contract or release him."

Reports that Davis is better behaved and less prone to tantrums than Wayne Rooney are as yet unconfirmed. Though nobody doubts it.

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* That's just a guess on my part, but having met a few Englishmen, I would venture to say it's probably accurate.

I Love Little Girls

Q: What's the best thing about taking a shower with a 15 year-old girl?
A: Get her hair wet, slick it back, and she looks 11.

Yeah, I know, kind of creepy. And disconcertingly, there are guys who are even creepier, and who would substitute 10 and 7 for the ages in that joke. In fact, one of them is causing quite a stir in our normally tranquil Ellay.

The guy is Jack McClellan, and for those of you who don't know, he's a proud, self-proclaimed pedophile whose preference is for pre-pubescent girls, and he's been spotted sliming around the greater LA area for a couple of weeks now - everywhere from Santa Monica to Santa Clarita.

Hey little girl, wanna piece of candy?

The thing is, he's not even trying to hide it. He's actively courted publicity by appearing on national news programs; he's started a website in which he rates parks, amusement parks, etc according to the amount and quality of little girls present and posts pictures of those that have given him a chubb; and he has openly defied public sentiment and wrath by not apologizing for himself. The police and courts can't do anything because, well, aside from being almost thoroughly repulsive Ole Jack hasn't actually done anything illegal. His website does not feature pornographic images or fantasy tales of children, and he has not been caught or accused of molestation.

It's a bit of a dilemma for the good people of LA, because they know this guy is a scumbag, but they can't do anything about or to him.

Surprisingly, politicians (who normally shy away from these easy, unequivocal, hot-button publicity-heavy issues) have been very vocal in their condemnation of Jackie-boy, and local community groups have taken to demanding that something be done to stop this guy. Unfortunately, seeing as how there's been no crime, posturing, shouting, and grandstanding are about all that can be done.

Unless some new laws get passed. Which is what some of the more aggressive folks are advocating in order to be sure that guys like Jack are stopped before they start. Now, I'm not convinced it would be double-plus good to start making what a guy thinks or any perversions he holds deep in his bosom a reason to make them an un-person. While the MiniTruth may assure us that only icky guys with icky thoughts would be busted this way, I just get uneasy having to trust O'Brien with the choice of who gets sent to Room 101 and who doesn't.

Big Brother loves you

The problem, however, is that in this age of ambiguous rainbow threat-levels, wild-eyed islamic boogeymen hiding in the shadows, nefarious illegal aliens coming to steal our jobs and destroy our language and cultural heritage, minorities daring to complain about things that offend them, homosexuals wanting to be allowed to marry thereby threatening to subvert our children and convert them to bestiality, and godless liberal traitors working to overthrow our Good and Pure country by not supporting our president during wartime, people are willing to allow laws passed which would criminalize thought. After all, it will help keep us safe, and besides, if you don't have these icky thoughts, you have nothing to fear.

Right?

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A Noble Spirit Embiggens the Smallest Man

I've been a Simpson's fan since their days as ugly line drawings in three-minute shorts on the Tracy Ullman show. I taped every episode since the very first one, bought the action figures, read the books (even the "real" ones like The Simpson and Philosophy, and Planet Simpson), and have devotedly obtained the DVDs.

Yeah, I'm a geek.

So naturally when the opportunity came to see what I would look like as a Springfieldianite, well, how could I refuse. Here is me, Simpsonized:

The Simpsonized Monkey

Now, when I saw this, I didn't think it was right. I always fancied myself as being a bit more ruggedly handsome than this. I mean, this guy looks like a dork. However, when the MonkeyWife saw it she burst out laughing and assured me this was almost frighteningly accurate. My friends agreed. Now, not being our Idiot Boy-King, I don't blindly cling to a belief when all those around me say the opposite, so I have come to embrace my cromlulent, Simpsonized self.

You can do yourself at Simpsonize Me.

Ook ook.

The difference between cats and dogs

I know, it's an eternal debate with no resolution.

I know, it's completely subjective.

I know, it's an invalid comparison, and only serves to start arguments.

I know, it uses absolutes to discuss nuance.

Still, there is a difference between cats and dogs. Setting aside the oft remarked personality traits of aloof versus social, cunning versus borderline brain-damaged, and regal versus sloppy, there is another difference between cats and dogs.

Evidently, dogs save lives -

Good dog!

While cats take lives.

I is the angel of death

Now, any dog person wouldn't be the least surprised to learn a 5lb speck of a dog would leap to the rescue of a piece of crotchfruit and take rattlesnake bites, but even the most rabid cat-haters would do a bit of a double-take at hearing about a cat moonlighting for the grim reaper. Personally, I never thought of cats as being bloodthirsty killers - I just thought they weren't as much fun as dogs. Now, it seems, they are also far more dangerous. I mean, a Pit Bull has to put in some effort and actually maul someone to kill them, but this cat just has to lay down in bed next to you to bring about the final curtain.

So what's the deal with this cat? Is he in tune with the supernatural realm, or is he the feline incarnation of Ted Bundy? If Oscar were a nurse in this institution he'd be up on mass murder charges and facing a crowd carrying pitchforks and torches screaming for his head. Whatever the case, if I were around him I would be sure to keep as far away as possible. Just having this kitty circle your ankles while purring could mean a broken hip, or a heart attack.

If only there were some way to ship Oscar to the White House and have him sleep with Georgie, Dickie, and Condie ...

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It really is the thought that counts

Evidently, Prince Charles of the ludicrous ears and eternal child's title, presented the love of his life with a rather special and unique birthday gift: two rare sheep, one male one female.

The bleaters were said to have cost 300 Euros each, which I guess is a bit high by sheep standards. And, evidently, Camilla was very happy to receive them. Or, as the British press remarked, "Camilla is in fact, absolutely chuffed to bits."

Camilla being chuffed.

Side note, I have to admit to an almost pathological affinity for these UK colloquialisms: Chuffed, Knackered, etc.

Back to the point, the press goes on to explain that "the royal family have so much already that they don't actually give wildly extravagant presents." In other words, the eternal question finally has an answer. What to you give the person that has everything? Rare sheep. I suppose you can give rare mutton or leg of lamb to the person who has almost everything.

In any event, this has helped me out in a big way. The MonkeyWife's birthday is coming soon, and I have no idea what to get her. However, now I'm thinking a couple of guinea pigs, packaged as "Filigree Hamsters" might do the trick. Maybe she'll be chuffed too.

Filligree Hamsters in the act of chuffing

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