Miep! Miep!

Miep Gies, one of the people who shielded Anne Frank and her family from the Nazis, and who was immortalized in Anne's diary and the play and movies based upon it, died today at age 100.

Not a whole lot of jokes to make here, so I'll just say a quick: Fuck the Nazis!

No DW2K9 players had Miep. Because why would they?

Sports Machine Shut Down Amid Radiation Fears

Veteran sports journalist George Michael passed away today from cancer that many suspect was the product of more than a quarter century of labor with dangerously radioactive sports machinery.

In the late 1970s, the U.S. government developed a hazardous new top-secret technology. This technology culminated in the 1980 construction of a room-sized supercomputer that could snatch global sports highlights seemingly out of thin air. Built in a concrete bunker beneath the cornfields of central Iowa, this project was called, appropriately, "The Sports Machine." Reliable middle-aged sportscaster George Michael was chosen to lead the project, a decision which would irradiate Michael and his crew for the 27 years that followed.

When the Sports Machine was first broadcast into homes, some conspiracy theorists said that the machinery wasn't real. Clearly, they weren't looking closely at all the giant dials, mammoth buttons, and working reel-to-reel tape machines! Other critics said that George Michael's broadcasting voice was so overly affected that it had to be computer generated. None of the critics understood the reality: The Sports Machine was REAL, and it was biometrically tuned to respond only to George Michael's touch.

In the decades that followed, entire 24-hour sports television networks were launched, amassing legions of videographers and armies of statisticians to try to duplicate the success of The Sports Machine. All attempts to unseat Michael failed to be as powerful or relevant as the 30-minute once-weekly Sports Machine.

ESPN, CNN/SI, FoxSports, et al., however, used inferior technology that was not based on colossal machinery fueled by radioactive isotopes. Fortunately, the staffs of these failed copycat sports ventures will not need to buried in lead-lined coffins.

God Receives Oral

Is there anyone in the history of Christianity who has ever played up the "I'm talking directly to a man in the sky, and he wants specifically X amount of dollars" bit more than Oral Roberts? He once claimed that if he couldn't raise more money, that he would be "called home" by some divine force. Seriously? As if televangelists weren't intelligence-insulting enough already!

Oral also started a "university" (it would create the mold for another fine learning institution, Liberty "University") and named it after...(drum roll, please)...HIMSELF!

Most men say that there's no such thing as bad oral. In this case, I beg to differ.
This pathetic charlatan lived way longer than he deserved to, and Thanatos Therapeuticus got perhaps his most-deserved 9 points of all time.

Dirt Dancing

Yes, I know that Patrick Swayze was in the movie Ghost. But really, the headline, "Swayze is Ghost" is a bit hackish, don't you think?

Patrick Swayze, the star of amazing films such as Point Break and Road House had the time of his death today at the age of 57. Swayze was Hollywood's most effeminate tough guy of all time, with the crossed arms of Paul Lynde and the right cross of Clint Eastwood.

Swayze soiled the underwear of millions of teenage girls when he not only acted as Johnny Castle in Dirty Dancing, but did all his own dancing, and wrote and sang his own heartfelt ballad, "She's Like the Wind."

Pretty much everyone chose the doomed smoker to miss the next 50-year storm: the Oracle, Deady Money, Le Chowd, Thanatos, Miss of Death, Death Knell Belle, The Crippler, Kerberos, Wednesday, and The Grim Reaper. Betcha these geniuses had Kennedy, too.

A post-mortem press conference that details what it's like to die and the other mysteries of the universe will be held by Whoopi Goldberg at Swayze's funeral. (See--I did throw in ONE Ghost reference for you!)

I'll see you in the next life, Bodhi. I guess you're getting all the sleep you need now, mijo.

Satan Planning Elaborate "Welcome Home" Party for Robert Novak

Conservative columnist/commentator/utter douche Robert Novak died today after a battle with cancer.

Sources in Hell report that Hell C.E.O. Satan is preparing a star-studded fete to welcome his son back to the inferno. A lieutenant in Satan's army who asked that it not be named told Deathwatch, "Oh my god. This is gonna be so tight. We got Diddy performing. Barry Manilow is going to do a medley. Miley Cyrus is going to do a set with the Jonas Brothers! This party is going to be kewl. (Make sure that you spell that the cool way, okay?)"

A company in Washington D.C. has been hired to cater the affair. According to the owner of the business, Satan is going with a luau theme, meaning Novak and the other minons of the Devil will be munching on delicious roast pig and authentic poi!

After a lifetime doing Satan's bidding on Earth, Novak certainly has earned this kind of reception. Most mortals say he will not be missed.

Thanos Therapeuticus and The Crippler both snag 22 points and the satisfaction of benefitting in some small way from Novak's passing.

Lazy, Uncaccomplished Kennedy Sibling Dies

Eunice Kennedy Shriver, sister of President John F. Kennedy and Senator Ted Kennedy died this morning at age 88.

Mrs. Shriver was just one more idle rich girl, suckling at the teat of her father's fortune, perched up high on her ivory tower and throwing water balloons filled with urine down on the rest of us.

There are those who may argue that she "founded the Special Olympics" or they'll whine about how her husband started the Peace Corps or some other such nonsense. Listen, people: Eunice Kennedy Shriver was a leech who fed on the lifeblood of real Americans like the Bush family. Now there's an admirable dynasty.

Anyway, The Oracle, Thanatos Therapeuticus and The Crippler all snag a tidy twelve points for putting the bullseye on this lady's back. So I guess she did somebody some good, finally.

John Hughes' Funeral Attended Mostly by Narrowly Defined Stereotypes

The funeral for director/screenwriter John Hughes was held in a suburb outside of Chicago this morning. Hughes died last Thursday of a heart attack while visiting New York City. A family spokesman said that the heart attack came as Hughes raced Kevin Bacon down the street in pursuit of an available cab.

At this morning's funeral service, witnesses say that most of the mourners fit a little too easily into generic funeral cliches. There was the "grieving widow", the "priest" and the "guy who's just there to try to see Molly Ringwald."

One attendee, Evan Siberling, said, "I sat there during the service and I was thinking, 'Wow. This really speaks to me and where I am in life right now.' But I'm betting that, twenty years from now, I'll watch a video of the funeral and wonder why the hell I liked it so much."

No DW2K9 players had been looking for Hughes' 16 candles to be snuffed out.