Population: Crazy.

A month ago I exercised my critical thinking and told you that there was way more to this Penn State scandal and gosh darn it, turns out I was right again!

By the way, I hate myself for referring to this as a scandal.  Can we stop it with the scandal talk?  This has been upgraded to a full-blown shit storm.

I also told you that there was nothing that could be done to give back those boys' lives.  However, just like with families of murder victims who can't get their loved ones back, there is some form of justice that can be carried out to give some sort of closure.

The NCAA swore that today.  They promised me that they were going to deliver 'unprecedented' punishments against Penn State.

Per usual, the NCAA let me down.  I guess it's really my fault.  How many times can I get my hopes dashed to pieces before I stop caring all together?

The punishments?  No bowl games for four years.  Which, really goes hand in hand with the stripping of scholarships because you aren't reaching bowl games with no talent anyways.  Penn State was also fined $60 million.  To me and you, that's a pretty big matzo ball.  To Penn State?  They wipe their asses with that kind of paper.

The thing that really irks me is that Penn State is being forced to vacate all wins since 1998--which was the first time that people covered up for Sandusky.  You know what happens when the NCAA vacates a school's wins?  The record books won't change to show that the other school won, they will just be blank.  They get ERASED.

How convenient it must be for the NCAA to just erase all their problems when the rest of us have to live with ourselves every waking moment of the day.  We all wish we had some magic machine to take us back to the moment when shit first happened and just have it all not happen in the first place but that shit doesn't exist.

I've already told you that there is nothing that can be done to take back what happened.  How do you try and fix what happened?  I'm not really sure.  I don't even know if you can.

But if you make an attempt to, you have to do it way better than this.  You just have to.

I didn't need the Freeh report to tell me that this place was evil.  I could see that for myself.  I sat here this morning and got really bummed out at the NCAA for not burning Penn State to the ground.

How do you start to make this better?

For starters, give them the 'death' penalty.  For five years.  No football program, whatsoever, for FIVE years.  If the new Penn State leaders want to come out and say that this isn't about football, it's about the victims and their well-being, prove it.  Put your money where your mouth is.  Don't play football for five years and reflect on what you've become.

What went on at Penn State was unprecedented.  It was unprecedented evil.  A total lack of human compassion of every single level.  Nobody chose to do the right thing from top to bottom.  The punishment could never fit the crime in this scenario but you could do a lot better than that, NCAA.

I can't think of any scenario where an institution of higher learning failed to serve their purpose than Penn State did.  This is it.  This is the mountain top of failure.  You can't let the worst of the worst off with a wrist slap.  You just can't do it.

This has just been a terrible month for the human race.  I'm embarrassed.

Going For The Gold

A week from now, ESPN the Magazine will unveil their new 'body' issue.  If you are unfamiliar with this, it's where athletes pose nude so we can marvel at their Zeus-crafted bodies.

It's also misleading advertising because they don't show any nip and they include dudes too.  A rather disgusting affair, if you ask me.

However, in this particular issue of ESPN the Magazine is a rather intriguing article by Sam Allpour about what goes on in the Olympic Village.

The 2012 Summer Olympics are slated to begin in London at the end of this month and it turns out what we really thought was a friendly, peace-keeping worldly tradition is really just a big excuse for an international sex orgy.

That's right, kids, it's plausible to believe that Michael Phelps will win the 200m butterfly and then head back to the Olympic Village to butterfly a Czech while a Russian watches.  Okay, maybe that's not as plausible since Phelps has quite a large amount of 'tard in him, but it definitely happens for the normal athletes.

From Allpour's article, Hope Solo, the extremely attractive American women's goalkeeper said herself, "There's a lot of sex going on."  And Ryan Lochte, Phelps' main competition this summer said, "I'd say it's 70 percent to 75 percent of Olympians."

Good lord.  How can we possibly cheer on the good natured competition between our countries when three-quarters of the time we're just going to go back to our bunks and bang each other?

Of course, once you sit back and think about it, it's all fairly obvious.  We've assembled together the world's fittest and toned bodies, who have just spent the majority of their life working on their routine, and crammed them all together in a room and told them to govern themselves.  That's like letting a fat camp have a sleep-over at a bakery/pizzeria.

You're just begging for all hell to break loose.  And now that the cat's out of the bag about the promiscuity going around the Olympic Village, hosting cities are ordering prophylactics in huge numbers.  The going rate right now is 100,000.  100,000 condoms are being sent to London right now, just for the Olympics.  Awesome.

I'll never make fun of a male gymnast again.  Hell, I won't even be able to watch them this summer without thinking, "You lucky bastard."  Sure, he's got to do a floor routine in an embarrassing sequined one-piece but he's going to bed at least three girls that don't even speak his language later.  It's a give and take thing.

And it really is too bad that Michael Phelps has the doo-doo brain.  Apparently the Olympic Villagers consider the swimmers and water polo-ers to have the best bodies.  Not to mention that Phelps is the most dominant force to hit the Olympics in this era.  With that deadly combination he could probably spread his seed enough to take over the world in the next decade.

Prospective fathers, I encourage you, push your son towards something stupid like badminton, or kayaking, or even that stupid horse shit.  Trust me, he'll thank you in the end.

It can't be that hard to make it in those events and that's all you need for him.  Just to get his foot in the door...

Holy Crap, I'm Three!

Hey kids, guess what?!  It's the three year anniversary of the Studly Pastures!!!

I know exactly what you're thinking too.  You're thinking, wow, for something that's been around for three years it's pretty antiquated and not very popular.

And you would be right.

I tried to sell out, I really did.  I put advertisements on here that have earned me almost fifty cents.

My most-read post was about Charlie Sheen during the height of his craziness.  In fact, being a blogger for three years has pretty much taught me the ropes.  Any time I mention someone like Sheen, or LeBron James, or Justin Bieber, or Katie Holmes, or Fidel Castro, or the Beatles, or Scooby Doo, or Santa Claus, or Steve Buschemi, or McDonalds, Google will pretty much put me at the top of the list for anybody that's searching for anything remotely close to any of those people.

It's pretty interesting to know that I can write entire posts without any sort of substance in it and all I have to do is name drop a few times and then BAM I'm front page.

That's the glory of today's communication process.  People haven't gotten smarter or more profound--or hell, even literate--they're just easier to hear.

I have a very simple answer for why I operate the SP.  I'm narcissistic and love to go back and read about what I thought about certain events in life.  True story.  I really could give two craps about what you think.  I don't even know you.  To me, you're just some faceless statistic that I check every now and again to see exactly how many faceless entities are actually reading my soap box declarations.

If I want to write about how Steve Nash going to the Lakers is what makes me hate the NBA and why just about every other major sport is run better than this one and I blather on and on just like I would sitting in a room by myself, I find it really bizarre that someone from Moldova would read that and be like, "Yeah, you tell them!" (Or however that would translate in Moldovian.  I'm not even really sure if they speak Moldovian, I'm not doing any research.)  (Sorry, Moldova.)

I'm huge in Eastern Europe by the way.  I'm their David Hasselhoff.

I guess what I'm getting at is that the system is wonderfully flawed.  There is absolutely no reason why a blog based on a fictional stud farm for unicorns, run by someone who boldly refers to himself as The Creator, should have ever pandered on for three years...let alone be actually read by people.

It's ludicrous.  Shame on you.

But I love you and I try my best for you, faceless entities.  I wish I could tell you I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this thing but I have air conditioning and a fear of blood.  Plus, men don't cry.

Thanks for three great years and here's to at least fifty million more!