THE PROFESSOR'S CORNER FEATURING PROFESSOR OSWALD TINKLEBERRY

1/11/05 THE PROFESSOR'S CORNER


Special to Wagercom.com , Professor Oswald Tinkleberry will be providing us with his perspective ramblings and answering reader e-mail every week or two, so keep e-mailing him with questions, ideas, and/or comments. Questions can be about the NBA, Major League Baseball, Fantasy sports, or the great Taylor Rain-Janine Lindemuller debate. Just send your questions to info@wagercom.com

The Professor’s Corner #3

Dear readers,

I apologize for my absence. As a result of it, I suspect many of you have been left to swim in the morass of life without guidance. I suspect many of you have come to view life as a roadside inn where you have to wait until the wagon from the abyss arrives. And you don’t know what that wagon will bring, because you don’t know anything.

But my disappearance was not in vain. I have been testing for myself, and for you, dear readers, a new diet. Well, that’s not entirely true. It’s actually an old diet. Very old. Ancient in origin.

Just beyond the borders of the old Roman Empire, just East of what we now refer to as the Holy Land, there was a rebellious province named Parthia. In 53 B.C. Crassus and over 40,000 Roman troops were annihilated by the Parthian forces of Orodes†II. By 40 B.C. Parthian forces had struck directly into the heart of the Roman East and captured the provinces of Asia, Pamphylia, Cilicia, and Syria; even as far south as Petra. The western border between Rome's dominions and Parthia gradually stabilized on the banks of the Euphrates (a river still in the news today), but war was always a threat and though major campaigns by the Romans were seen in A.D. 116, 161, 195, 217 and 232, Parthia was never conquered.

Many have wondered, then and now, how this rogue province could defeat the mighty Romans. Well, wonder no more. Your courageous Oswald Tinkleberry went on an excursion to this region not long ago. I intended to find the perfect “peri.” For those of you who don’t know:

peri (PEER-ee) noun

1. A fairy in Persian mythology.

2. A beautiful, graceful girl or woman.

[From Persian peri, variant of pari (fairy), from Avestan pairika

(witch or female demon.]

Unfortunately, given the rise of Islam in this area, many of the women now dress in ninja costumes that makes it difficult to discern their features. Granted, there are some “Gentlemen’s Clubs” that feature FULL FACIAL NUDITY. But even that is not enough.

So I had to go undercover. Both under the cover of the burkas and disguise myself, not unlike the hero of Team America, to find my peri. What many unfamiliar with Islam do not know is that these peris-to-be are thirsty nymphs. And under their otherwise protective coverings, many of them wear the naughtiest lingerie imaginable: delectable crotch-less panties, yummy silk garters, filthy leather and not-so-virginal lace. Sadly, given the fear of photographs in this culture, this is the best picture I could get. Lingerie sold separately.

But all of this is beside the point. Along the way, I met a man. A very wise man.

I asked him the obvious question: hey man, what’s with the diaper? He responded with a question of his own. “Do you feel lethargic, depressed, unmotivated?”

I answered that yes, I hadn’t been feeling my usual self lately. †But I really wanted to know why a grown man was wearing a diaper. He was evasive. Cagey even. “Have you questioned all the new trend diets that have flooded the health industry over the recent years?” he asked. Again, I confessed I had. But I wanted to know if he could put his legs behind his head with the diaper on without showing his wobbly bits.

“Are you sick?” he asked.† Again I answered in the affirmative. I assumed he had some bug that was going around, hence the diaper. But he just glided over that question. Instead, he said something jarring. “Well,” he sighed through a haze of incense. “This is the end to your sickness.” †

And then he introduced me to the phenomenon of ISOMETRIC CARDIO. The basic idea of this diet is to stress your heart almost to the point of bursting. “If you survive,” the holy man said, “you will never fear death again.” I was intrigued, to say the least, and asked him for details.

“The process is this,” he replied with his mouth on the hookah. “Eat fatty foods. High cholesterol foods. Fatburger or White Castle are good places to start. Smoke like Sean Penn. Drink firewater like Winston Churchill. Sleep only as much as Salvador DalÌ.” I was entranced.

“Add 40 lbs of fat within 60 days. †Your arteries will constrict like a 9 year old’s anus the first time he is buggered. And they will harden like gay children’s wieners at shower time. Then you are ready.” Ready for what, oh Master of Huggies?

“The unnatural build up and pressure in your cardiovascular system will put extreme pressure on the functioning of your heart. †Then, force yourself into stressful and awkward situations. †Slap old people on the street, perform extreme sexual feats with 3 or more participants, bet on the 49ers to win straight up.” But, I countered, betting the 9ers straight up is suicide! Sheer suicide.

“Precisely. Your heart will grow. Larger than a lion. Larger than a bad boob job on an 818 actress. Larger than the tent in your pants when Britney finally appears in Playboy.” That’s large, I thought. They call this Ventricle Expanciousis.

“Then you are ready for the final stage. Detoxification. Intravenous infusion of pure diesel fuel. †The plaque and buildup in the arteries vanishes faster than a peri’s hymen. But your heart remains John Holmsian in size. After that day, all your dreams will come true.”

Oddly, once he uttered this final phrase, he vanished. I looked around. But all I found was a small note written in the sky as if by the finger of some mystic creature. It read this: “Gotta run. Jenna is on Howard and my Tivo is broken.”

Well, fortunately, my Tivo is working so I was in no rush to get home. My only fear was that, given all the cable channels I have and given that I had told my Tivo to download all pornography, it might be full. So I did rush home.

But upon my return, I began the diet. This is the reason for my absence. I put on the 40 pounds in less than a week and moved to the phase of stressing myself out. I bet the 9ers straight up and so had to go into hiding from my bookie. Hiding from my bookie doesn’t keep me from writing for Wagercom. But moving my fat body from 3some to 3some has proved, well, dicey. And sometimes the nymphs will want to “talk” afterwards too. For instance the little one who said, “too much cock,” after one particularly riveting row. I assured her, though, that it was in the interests of medical revolution and the health of my readers.

And so, only midway through, I report to you that this is the diet for you. This is how the Parthians gained their strength and this is how the writers of Wagercom do as well. On to your questions.

HI, I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD ANSWER A PITTSBURGH STEELER QUESTION FOR ME?

I WANTED TO KNOW WHAT IS THE RECORD FOR THE MOST STEELER 'TEAM' SACKS IN ONE GAME (NOT INDIVIDUAL BUT AS A TEAM)? AND ALSO WHAT YEAR THIS OCCURED?

THANKS FOR YOUR HELP

DARREN

Frankly, Darren, I think the most team sacks ever recorded was not recorded by the Steelers. I think I have recorded the most team sacks over the course of the last several weeks. And this even with my extra poundage.

But what you may be referring to is this: one little nymphet asked if she could bring her sister along for the fun. Naturally, I asked what she looked like. “Well,” she replied. “She’s 22. Has long hair down to here. And has way bigger boobs than me. C or D cups.” Is she tight and firm? “Oh yeah.” But then the obvious question remains, will you two bump eagles? The bible does strictly prohibit this, as you know. Thou shalt not lie with thy sister, blah blah blah. Anyway, she agreed they would.

But more importantly, this term “bump eagles” was coined by a pair of high school girls I met at Baja Fresh. They were visiting from Vegas. I asked them to join us over burritos and guacamole. They agreed. I asked how old they were. They were 17 and 18. “But we’re 21 on paper,” they giggled as they munched. One had long blond hair and a neckline that plunged out of my zip code. They immediately began regaling my friends and me with tales of how they love sex and how attracted to their teachers they are. I smirked and told them I am a Professor of Chronology. This got them going into riffs about making teachers masturbate between classes in the faculty bathrooms.

Are you attracted to each other? “She’s attracted to me all the time. I’m only attracted to her when we’re drunk.” Then the drunken nymph reached out and grabbed a handful of shirt to show us the other one’s boob. The conversation proceeded. “When we’re drunk we like to bump fuzzies.” But then they caught themselves. They had uttered an untruth. “Well, actually, we really aren’t fuzzy at all.” “Yeah, hair down there is gross,” the other chimed in. “I guess what we actually do is bump eagles.”

They were just in town to visit colleges. UCLA among them. I thought of Carnell Lake, the great Bruin DB who went on to play for the Steelers. How many of these had he sacked while in school? How many did he sack as a team once he went pro? I wondered as we drove back to my place.

Furthermore, John Kerry is a Masshole and claims to root for the Patriots. But the Steeler’s play in Heinz Field, named for his wife’s inherited fortune. So if the Pats play the Steelers, whom does he root for, I wondered as the two little girls began stripping each other on my zebra skin love seat.

And, beyond that, what’s with these names? #67 Kimo von Oelhoffen? Yes, yes, I told them. Put that there. Again. Or #43 Troy Polamalu. What kind of names are these? And how could these guys ever record team sacks with names like that? Yes, yes, good. Now scissor-kiss. Scissor-kiss again. Good.

I hope that answers your question.

Have you ever hunted for little Mexican girls?Ü If so, where is the best place to look?Ü Would you take Karl Malone with you since he seems to know where they reside? – Laker Lover

For those of you who don’t know, the Laker Lover is referring to an incident between Kobe and Karl Malone. The details are the following:

At the Lakers’ November 23rd game against the Milwaukee Bucks, Vanessa Bryant invited Karl Malone Jr. to come sit with her. Karl Malone Sr. (AKA The Mailman) came over to join them at halftime wearing cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. Vanessa, coy little thing that she is, asked Karl what he was hunting. When he did not respond, the little minx who has had to suffer a shitstorm over her husband’s affection for 19 year old 5-hole, asked him again. The Mailman gave a big smile and said, "I'm hunting for little Mexican girls.” For the record, Vanessa Bryant is 22 years old and Latina.

The resulting media attention has been anything but pretty. Really the only good comment coming out of the whole event was from Shaq who said: “He's a legend. And if you don't like Karl Malone, there's something wrong with you. ”

Frankly, when I go hunting for little Mexican girls, I really don’t like to get a big bunch of media hype. So when I go, I try not to bring superstars. And I try not to bring aging losers. And I try not to approach women whose husbands have been accused of rape. It’s just poor form.

For me, the best place to hunt little Mexican girls, oddly enough, is on the internet. I recently hooked up with a young girl who goes by a Hispanic handle online. She’s 23 and finds herself in a relationship that is unfulfilling. To lash out at her man or to get some satisfaction, she turns on her webcam and places different objects inside herself upon request. Given that these are her favorite nights “out,” she puts on exciting outfits—the kind peris wear under their burkas—and dances all around. She also happens to look like a cross between Jessica Alba and Salma Hayek. So I think my interactions with her have done wonders for my Isometric Cardio.

So yeah, Laker Lover, go online. Give it a whirl. And lemme know whatcha find.

Perhaps you can answer this in the next professor’s corner. Who is gayyer Michael Vick or Michael Jackson? -- Homophobe

Great question, Homophobe. Really great.

In the ancient world, where homosexual relations were less frowned upon, a distinction was made between who was the pitcher and who was the catcher. Being a top was acceptable. Being a bottom means you were the queer one. I suppose that’s still true to this day. But either way, it will guide our inquiry.

First of all, MJ, the King of Pop, I believe to be a pitcher. The fact that he shacks up with prepubescent boys means that he is probably pitching. Also, the fact that the following item was found (I am told) in one of the police’s search and seizures is quite important.

The caption reads: “It ain’t gonna eat itself” and the size indicates it was worn by the King himself. Also, forensic analysis of the skidmarks is consistent with him. Now I am not in any way condoning the molestation of young boys. I find it reprehensible and tend to think that those who perpetrate the act should be castrated first and forced to wear large shirts that proclaim their insidious evil to everyone. But that isn’t the question. The question is who is gayer.

Now let’s look at Michael Vick. Michael Vick is a bad pro quarterback. And when I say bad, I mean that he gets negative fantasy points almost every week. That’s bad. And yet, at the same time, announcers and pundits cannot fall over themselves enough in saying how great he is. When he throws it out of bounds they say, “What poise! I mean that was a smart play. Did you say the way he had seven open receivers and a running lane the size of Jenna’s pooter but he still decided to throw it out. That’s smarts.”

Or, on one 4th and goal situation in the 4th quarter, he was sacked to lose the game. The talking heads couldn’t praise him enough. “Yeah, he was sacked, yeah he lost the game. But look at the quickness here. Look at the feet. Young quarterbacks if you’re watching, this is the way to play the game. He looks off one open guy in the endzone. He pumpfakes to another open guy, drawing the defense in. Then he decides to tuck it away and run even though seven guys are bearing down on him. He eludes one. Jukes another. And then he gets stopped for a loss. Man, what an exciting player.”

Michael Vick is a loser. He is the conductor of the L-Train. And yet, the announcers love him, he has shoe deals boasting the Michael Vick Experience, he has his face and name on the cover of Madden Football. How can we explain this? Really, there’s only one way.

He is taking it in the ass from all of them.

So let’s look at the facts. Either A.) you are behind an 11 year old boy who is hairless and neat and probably could be mistaken for a girl if you have a few drinks. Or B.) you’re up in the Horse Trailer after Monday Night Football and John Stupid Madden is behind you with one hand on a drumstick, the other on his magic marker and he’s saying things like “Bam, that’s the way you play,” or “Boom, that’s football.”

Decide for yourself, Homphobe.

Has a rookie QB ever played in the Super Bowl and if yes, has a rookie ever won the Super Bowl.

Eddie

Columbus

I don’t think Eddie Columbus is a real name. It sounds like something out of an old spy novel or a Horatio Alger book. Or maybe Eddie Columbus is the quarterback of some down-and-out bunch of losers who, through heart and determination, go on to beat their rival. In any case, it’s a stupid name. And I don’t answer questions from people with stupid names.

Reggie Miller -- How Long has he been in the NBA? -- BRANDON QUIDER

Great question, Brandon. You see, Reggie Miller joined the NBA shortly after it was formed. He’s older than magma. He used to wear those short shorts and converse one stars out to the court. He played point man on Bill Bradley’s squad. He fed, in several ways, Wilt the Stilt. And it was only later, after many years pro, that he returned to UCLA.

Why was he able to do this? Have you ever thought that Reggie Miller looks like an alien? I think he does. With those weird green eyes of his and that shaved pate. I managed to obtain the following photograph of him taken with an advanced spectroscope. As you can see, he has a light yellow force field around his whole body. This is the effect that earth’s yellow sun has on him. I have yet to discover what planet he is from. But I can assure you and our other readers, it ain’t this one.

So thank you all for reading. I look forward to more questions and to letting you know how my diet ends up.

Stay strong,

Professor Oswald Tinkleberry

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