The Most Depressing Day of the Year

Today is the most depressing day of the year. Live it up, breathe it in and enjoy the moment. And we'll be here tomorrow, in case you were getting a little down. :-)

Did that emoticon cheer you up? Let us know in the comment section.

FCN Classic: Free Sierra Mist

That's right. All of those cans, boxes and bottles read as "Free" Sierra Mist. Yet Sierra Mist "Free" (made by PepsiCo) costs 40 cents a can. Even if you twist the definition, the soda is not without cost. That's why some people say that the "free" slogan is a bunch of bull. When we first saw Sierra Mist, we got the sudden urge to give you all a slice of our thoughts. The three of us over here at FCN don't feel we have the time to be tricked, and while we don't want to bark up a storm, this is blatant false advertising. In fact, we consider the folks at PepsiCo almost as deceptive as the witch who tricked Snow White. Their mothers must be ashamed.

Some people say this isn't deceptive; we think that's just gay! Yoo Hoo! Any smart person can see that Sierra Mist "Free" isn't free! A cow could win the argument against this one. Not only is Sierra Mist "Free" expensive, but you have to pay for gas to go to a store on top of Pepsi's list price. With fuel over three dollars a gallon, the visit to the supermarket alone is expensive.

The people at Sierra Mist's advertising department may think this is all very fine and pretty, but we don't. Mr. Pibb and Dr. Pepper noted in their scholarly paper, "Big, Bossy, Beverage Companies", that the new Sierra Mist is anything but free. Fitz, the truck driver said, "It ain't free, if it ain't free". Martha Stewart, the maid, told us she thinks it is unfair. My dad's take on all this is that if free doesn't mean free, frogs might as well be dogs. Hank the janitor doesn't like it either.

The guy who started string of lies deserves a fat lip. This deception is a spot on PepsiCo's record. We need to keep a tab on these kinds of practices, otherwise there might be a big surge in false advertising. We must have an iron fist and stop this.

Businesses that have a lot of pep, see a lot profits. But companies export their ideas to others and spread the word. We all know that companies feel obligated to "keep up with the Jones", and that once one business starts cheating, others will follow the lead. This is because most businesses don't want other companies to get ahead in sales. If this happens, they will have lost. But we will not let these monsters (wink) win.

So here's our plan to get at the core of the problem. We think the deceptive cans of Sierra Mist "Free" should all be hung by wires and packed into a vault. Next, we will shoot the cans with M5 machine guns. Then we will reload the guns, change the batteries, and shoot the cans again. After that, we will crush, hit, kick and beat the shards. Then we will put whatever is left in an incinerator and light it on fire. We will take the remains and throw them to the fish in the sea. Then everything will be ok.

We don't want to give them a bad rep, but if the soda companies are booed, so be it. Businesses like PepsiCo do not have the right to do this. They are just tangoing with trouble. If we don't stop these companies, it will just be another trouble mountain. Do you want that to happen? Our plan is no hype. We need a boost in supporters and lots of aid for our full plan to work. Fans of FCN, please join our club and our relentless fight against false advertising.

FCN Classic: 4th of July "Tribute"

We have all heard, I am sure, some enthusiastic mantras of praise for the United States of America; expressions of affection that are normally reserved for lovers or little children are extended with unwavering confidence to a nation of 300 million and no time of year is more prone to these tributes than the 4^th of July, the day set aside to celebrate the signing of the Declaration of Independence, an act that took place a couple centuries and one day earlier.

Do you realize that was all one sentence? Yay for me.

Anyway, FCN hates to be left out of the fun, but we feel that single-minded praise of the USA is nation centric, selfish and egotistical and we therefore craft our 4^th of July Tribute with a focus on other countries. America might be the greatest nation on earth, but that doesn't mean we do everything the best. In fact, if you take apart many of the things that make America “great” we find that other nations may have a better claim to “best.” Take a look at the following examples...

Free Speech

America's founding documents say that the dark beauty of the mind of every man, woman and monkey should be pasted for all to see on every newspaper, wall and museum. The result is personal ads, graffiti and the taxpayer funded “artwork” like the unclothed mannequin squatting on the raw chicken. How much more American can you get?

Perhaps the biggest flaw in our speech laws is that websites like Funny Class Notes are allowed to continue sans sanction or punishment. Regular citizens who make fun of elected leaders and deride the policies of our government are not shut down or even punished. Complete fabrications are allowed unaltered and dry comedy that isn't funny or even inspiring is published anyway. In fact, the White House has been known to give press passes to bloggers and encourage independent journalism by issuing press releases to the pajama media.

A better approach to speech regulation is embodied in China's “One-Word” policy. If one word is out of line, there is no limit to the excruciating pain the government has license to level against you. The flag of China is as red as the blood that runs in the citizens' veins and an acknowledgment of that and subsequent regulation to preserve the serenity and tranquility of Chinese life justifies speech controls.

Quite frankly, we need to be protected from ourselves. When we talk, we use the weapon of James, a terrible tool that can cut down friends, families, and even governments, the most sacred institution of all. A standard that no law can restrict speech is wholly at odds with the realities of today.

Wake up, America; China's got it figured out!

Marriage Laws

For some biological reason, America has it in its thick scull that the only people who can marry are men and women and they can only marry people of opposite genders in units of one. While this policy isn't codified nationally, almost every state has a marriage standard that destroys any chance of turning the love of man and monkey into a legally recognized spousal relationship. Tragic.

In the Netherlands, anyone can get a “Geregistreerd Partnerschap.” Well, more specifically, any quantity of anything and/or anyone can go before the altar (or bookshelf for all the law cares) and lynch the knot. These Partnerschaps can include two or even three partners of any gender background or identity. (Due to a lobbying effort on the part of the canine community, the law currently prohibits unions of four, but the Dutch parliament is working to resolve that and full freedom of spousal interaction is on the horizon).

For a nation that promotes freedom at every turn and prides itself in being the land of opportunity, America sure does limit its citizens' ability to hook up creatively. We allow free speech to run rampant but restrict marriage to the most narrow minded definition. Maybe we can learn something from our Dutch brothers and sisters (and barnyard animals).

The Netherlands are, indeed, the land of the three, home of the brave. America needs to leave behind the antiquated views of marriage and adopt a more progressive view that includes, well, everything.

Wake up, America; the Dutch have it figured out!

Currency

Turning our attention briefly to the somewhat dry – but always crispy – topic of finances, our monetary policy is hoisted (that means it's bad). Our inflation rate is so low and uninteresting, most of you probably couldn't even cite it. In fact, the last time anyone in your family worried about inflation was when your daddy was in diapers. The dollar is just too stable.

In Zimbabwe, a country that wins the award for the best name, inflation hovers around 5,000%. That means that in Zimbabwe money is like a car: It loses most of its value the moment it leaves the mint. But there are some awesome things about having an super high inflation rate. For instance, the currency is printed with an expiration date like milk or yogurt and businesses are not legally obligated to accept old bills as legal tender. This means that immediately before money is about to expire, the economy is boosted with a huge injection of activity, helping keep one of the poorest nations in the world afloat.

If America printed bills with an expiration date, greenbacks would find their way out of mattresses and into the hands of Wal-Mart cash registers, thus helping both the American and Chinese economies. An expiration date is a brilliant way to stimulate economic growth, throw the American consumer for a loop and give Ben Bernanke something to talk about.

Wake up, America; Zimbabwe has got it figured out!

Equality

Somewhere along history's timeline, America picked up a perspective on gender relations that promises equal treatment and the same rights for men and women. That's all fine and dandy in a political sense, but in the real world, where only the strong survive and the weak must wear headscarves for protection, a different perspective is appropriate.

Iran, the land of the great Imams, which gave the world camels and burritos, takes a more Darwinian approach to gender equity. Women are given all their rights by men. As three teenage guys living in America, we think that's pretty cool. Not everything about Iran is that awesome. We can do without the noontime wailing and the bed spreads that pass as casual wear, but the idea of subservient women is attractive. Guys, imagine being able to silence any female with a snap of the fingers. Heck yeah.

Instead of enslaving our female population, America has granted the fairer sex suffrage, land ownership rights and drivers licenses. Women are put as equals to men in government and business and are given the choice to work wherever they want, as corporate executives, small business owners or even mothers.

The day of the liberated woman is over. Iran has recognized this and recaptured the women that were never set free. What a picture!

Wake up America; Iran has got it figured out!

That's our tribute. Hopefully we've provided more evidence in favor of free speech restrictions. We've looked at four countries from five continents to find just a few examples of where the greatest nation on ever is behind the curve. Sorry to rain on the “America is awesome" party. Maybe next year we can celebrate reforms that bring us closer to having an unbeatably great country. Until then, we can continue to suffer - as is FCN's habit - under mediocrity.

FCN Classic: Todd's Paper

Todd has a five hundred word assignment due in his online History class at 11:00 on Wednesday morning. He rises at 8:00 and completes his shower, shave and shine routine in just under 15 minutes (Todd is very much a guy in this regard). He swallows a quick five minute breakfast and presses the power button on his computer to begin work on the paper.

8:22: The computer takes several minutes to load the Vista operating system because of the stock ticker, weather information and quote of the day docked on the desktop. Todd never uses these, but he thinks they're cool.

8:26: The computer has loaded, but the Internet connection is a little choppy because Todd's file sharing application is competing with his browser for access. Todd sighs and disables Limewire; that new Kelly Clarkson song will have to wait.

8:30: Todd's hompage, ESPN news loads quickly on Mozilla Firefox and Todd inhales sharply when he reads the bold headline. Alex Rodriguez, the Yankee's superstar slugger and Todd's favorite player, is considering negotiating a contract extension mid-season. The Yankees never do that; they didn't even talk with Babe Ruth until after the playoffs. Todd reads the Sports Guy's analysis and then navigates to the basketball tab.

8:48: Todd checks the clock on his computer and is satisfied he has plenty of time to finish his paper. He loads his Facebook and smiles when he sees the list of people who have poked him. Todd pokes back.

8:51: Todd adjusts his profile picture to the goofy one he took last weekend at the carnival, removes Rascal Flatts from his list of favorite musicians, accepts four friend invitations, writes a note about how pathetic and clichéd Rascal Flatts have become, writes on three friends' walls, gives a cyber gift, comments on a friend's photo, asks a public question and adjusts his status.

8:58: Todd is "smothered in work."

8:59: Todd glances again at the computer clock and decides to get to work on his paper. He opens his email to retrieve his earlier draft.

9:00: Todd is shocked when he sees a message in his inbox from an old friend. He and LaTasha haven't talked since, well it's been at least four weeks. The message is long, detailing a summer of fun, relaxation and little work. It includes a couple of current photos and a vague invitation to come visit.

9:12: Todd writes his reply.

9:31: His curiosity about LaTasha aroused, Todd navigates to her Xanga and reads the latest entries. She has some real wit and Todd finds himself poring through several pages of old archives.

9:45: A Firefox email notification informs Todd that he has new mail. LaTasha has responded already and her sharp conversational repartee demands an immediate answer. Todd begins crafting a reply when his buddy Craig instant messages.

9:49: Craig wants to know about Todd's plans for next weekend and has a bucketload of teasing for him about Donna, the girl Todd took with his family to the carnival last week. The new Facebook picture has aroused Craig's suspicion and he is convinced that Todd and Donna are more than just friends. Todd tries hard to defend himself, but even he doubts the real nature of his feelings.

10:05: Todd puts the email to LaTasha aside and tells Craig he needs to run. He downloads the draft and opens it in Microsoft Word, letting the three paragraphs of already written text poor over his monitor.

10:06: The phone rings. The ring tone is Rascal Flatts' Me and My Gang and Todd makes a mental note to change that ASAP. The caller is a chatty Donna who is making plans for next weekend and wants to include Todd.

10:10: Donna tells Todd about a new YouTube video and Todd loads the hilarious clip and watches while Donna provides running commentary.

10:14: Todd follows the YouTube related links to watch several more videos.

10:33: Todd hangs up with Donna but feels bad that he had to end the conversation so abruptly. He turns his attention to his computer screen, only to discover that his terminal has gone into standby. Todd pushes the power key.

10:34: A Fox News urgent news alert pops up on Todd's Firefox browser. Todd reads the headline carefully. Barack Obama has fallen to number two in several key states and the Hillary Clinton campaign is celebrating the advance. Todd reads the article.

10:38: Todd turns his attention to his word processor and rereads the content of the earlier draft.

10:40: Todd opens his browser again and conducts a Google search for articles on the British slave trade, the topic of his assignment. A couple of early hits catch Todd's attention and he opens those pages in new tabs. One of the articles is hosted on a blog.

10:43: Todd is intrigued by blog author's writing style and, after browsing a few other articles, decides to send the author an email praising him for his work.

10:57: Todd glances at his computer's clock and closes his eyes in disappointment. He was just too busy to finish the project. He sighs and remembers something his teacher said about late work being downgraded by 10%. Todd feels he is doing well in the class; he doesn't have to get an A on this paper.

11:00: Overwhelmed by the morning's workload, Todd exits his word processor and goes into the kitchen to find something to eat.

FCN Classic: North Korea problem solved.

Yesterday, diplomats of North Korea and the civilized world approved a first draft of a plan to disarm the country's nuclear weapons program. FCN was all over that one. We called up the North Korean embassy and managed to book an appointment with KimJongIl early this morning. A transcript of the interview follows.

FCN: Thanks so much for agreeing to talk to us.

KimJongIl: Been a long day.

FCN: I'm sure it has been. Let's talk about that. What was the tone of yesterday's negotiations?

KimJongIl: Desperate. I say desperate. We drop nuke from high place onto tiny village. Glow very big, but my sunglasses bigger. Now America say: we don't want to get spanked like tiny village. We want to keep San Fransisco, because it have tasty clam chowder!

FCN: So, you have the upper hand in these negotiations?

KimJongIl: Of course. Otherwise why talk at all? Build more nukes. Build, build, build! Boom!

FCN: Why did you start building nukes in the first place?

KimJongIl: American army ready to invade from south. So we build nukes. Now America too scared to attack.

FCN: So, nukes are just one part of the defenses?

KimJongIl: Oh, yes, many defenses all over Korea. I visionary leader. I work hard to save my starving people.

FCN: We're told that conscription and taxation are so heavy, they've caused economic collapse.

KimJongIl: Yes, yes! That how visionary I am. I do anything for my country - even starvation.

FCN: That's inspiring.

KimJongIl: You think? So do my concubines.

FCN: There have been diplomatic talks for decades about your nuke program. What makes you think this one will work?

KimJongIl: I never say it work. It up to America to make it work. Not my fault if it not work. My country do everything we say we do. We never lie to America. Not once. But America lie every day.

FCN: How effective are the sanctions being put on your country?

KimJongIl: They cause much starving, many poor people. But they not work. I visionary leader. My resolve not break!

FCN: I notice you keep talking about America. What about the other countries in the talks?

KimJongIl: Other countries?

FCN: Like China, South Korea ...

KimJongIl: That ridiculous. You Americans so funny! [laughs]

FCN: Assistant Secretary of State Chris Hill said: “Three yards, three yards, three yards — and then it’s always fourth and one.” Do you consider that an accurate evaluation of negotiations at this point?

K imJongIl: No! That American propaganda. America not make three yards. Korea blitz American quarterback! They lose three yards every time. Now it fourth and nineteen. They try make field goal, but it no good. Then it our ball. We build, build, build! Boom!

FCN: So, you're not optimistic about an agreement?

KimJongIl: I say I have message for San Fransisco clams.

[Awkward silence]

FCN: What is it?

KimJongIl: Boom!

FCN: Thanks so much for your time. We know you're busy.

KimJongIl: Yes, very busy. Build, build, build! I go now.

FCN Classic: Q&A with curious guys

FCN is always open to answering your questions. We'll put our team of highly trained delinquents on any problem, query or concern that crosses your mind, and even a few that don’t. Below, we have a series of questions from curious guys who never quite got a satisfactory answer from other humor blogs.

Question: Why is it that middle age people often joke about their age but generally old folks never touch the subject?
~Joseph, Omaha, KS.

Answer: The same reason any joke gets old (pun intended). When a person starts getting on in his years and realizes the grave isn’t in the too distant future, he tries to hide his fear by making jokes. The jokes don’t make them any younger; they just help relieve the pressure of their coming demise. Then, as that eternal phone call in the horizontal telephone booth becomes as eminent as a Democrat’s tax increase, the joke stops being funny. It’s probably still funny to you, Joseph, because you are a young guy with many good years ahead of you. Realize these old codgers have intense pressure to stop making age jokes; whenever they are at the country club and let rip with a “boy, these legs just don’t want to walk anymore” line, they are greeted with horrified stares. Sometimes those jokes can cause the management to suspend the membership of a truly egregious joker. So generally really old people stay quiet about their age.

Question: Why do most married couples engage in all sorts of really intimate behaviors including mouth to mouth kissing but insist on using their own toothbrush?
~ Ike, Carbondale, Ill.

Answer: Cooties. It really is a shame, too, since using the same toothbrush can be a great way to get closer as a married couple. Can you imagine the romance in gathering around the bathroom sink and removing each other’s plaque with the same utensil? Mutual brushing, as this practice is called by people in the therapy industry, is a great way to help couples who are on the rocks get realigned.

Question: Why is it that the more expensive a piece of clothing is, the more quickly it wears out?
~ Blythe, San Francisco, CA.

Answer: You know Blythe, that really hasn’t been our experience. A 2-3 dollar shirt (the bottom end of our price range) usually tends to be pretty flimsy, while a really expensive 10-15 dollar garment tends to last a lot longer. You can also wear the more expensive shirt for greater intervals between washing. At all the stores we shop, you get your money’s worth.

Question: Why is it that people stare at me when I wear white socks with dark clothes and shoes?
~ Trevor, Colorado Springs, CO.

Answer: That’s a question that has bugged us a lot, too. We honestly don’t have an answer, but we picked your question to highlight a major injustice in today’s fashion. We’re white, we wear white undershirts, have white bellies, etc. But for some reason, society says we have to wear dark socks. This stipulation totally destroys any individualism we might otherwise be able to express and turns us into dark clothed, zero imagination zombies. This much we do know: people stare because they have been ingrained with the lie that white socks are taboo. The average person is scolded by his mother when only a prepubertal babe and scared into believing that white is somehow morally wrong. When they see free spirits like us choosing not to be tied down by color distinctions, that whole episode of their lives is reopened and they are forced to relive their painful maternal rejection. Sympathy for others is about the only reason we can think of to avoid white socks.

Question: With all the craze over paternity tests, why don’t curious kids insist on maternity examinations as well?
~ Richard, Anaheim, CA.

Answer: All it takes is one look at the Maury or Jerry Springer shows to notice that no one questions maternity these days. They should though. Anyone who doubts their paternal lineage should reserve similar suspicion for their mother. Think about it: any woman with a paunch could claim to be the mom. It wouldn’t be that hard either; the devious woman would sneak the biological mom a significant cash amount and then jump into the delivery bed and pretend to be in pain. The substitution wouldn’t even have to be devious; all babies look alike at birth and with the myriad of mistakes hospitals make, parents really don’t know that the kids they take home are really theirs. Few are willing to admit this fear and most try to cover it by cooing “oh, s/he looks so much like you” to their spouse. Instead of these common-place “you are not the father!” routines, shows like Maury and Springer’s should bring in kids who don’t think their mom really is. That’d mix things up a bit.

As always, if you have a question for our FCN staff, feel free to email it us. That’s funnyclassnotes – at – gmail – dot – com.

FCN Clasic: Don't Eat Plants!

Warning: The following post contains content that may not be appropriate for all ages. It deals with a subject that is disturbing, frightening and disgusting. It also contains images (click to enlarge) that are shocking and perturbing. We show them to you only to highlight the nature of our opponents. Parental guidance is strongly advised. Proceed at your own risk.

A terrible travesty of justice, an iniquity that pervades this great land from right to left coast, just came to FCN's attention. It’s something of grand magnitude, terrible significance and horrid shock value. No, I am not talking about my new plan to grow my toenails out, but it is something that hits us similarly close to the heart (the stomach, to be exact).

The depressing and, if you haven't read the appropriate literature, surprising fact is that the vast majority of American kitchens (restaurant and home) subsidize rampant cruelty. I know that's a lot of big words and the faithful FCN few who attend college are already reaching for their PDs (as pocket dictionaries are affectionately titled), but let me see if I can spell it out more plainly:

In the past half century, most U.S. vegetable production has moved away from small family farms to factory farms -- huge warehouses where plants are confined in raised beds or greenhouses or a hydroponics bucket. The competition to lower costs has led agri-business to treat vegetables as mere objects rather than as individuals who can suffer. Large farming operations, that focus more on the bottom line more than ethical plant treatment, are systematically destroying all respect for the members of Kingdom Vegetabilia and desensitizing us to the trauma in the process.

From the time a vegetable is first planted, cruelty is on the mind of the farmer. Seeds are spaced so closely together that overcrowding is rampant and many plants are unable to get enough light to survive. Smaller plants are yanked out by their roots and left to die of exposure. Paid agents of the farmer exercise the explicit mandates of their boss, often never thinking through the consequences of their actions.

As the plants grow, the farmer applies stressing chemicals that, while inducing greater crop yields, often stunt the plant’s long term growth and give it a bleak future. Sometimes these chemicals are tested in labs on live plants (think Josef Mengele but scarier) and chemical companies show little or no regard to the life they regularly destroy.

Devastating poisons are sprayed on helpless plants via crop duster.

When a plant finally produces some fruit, it is brutally and violently “picked” and sent to be processed at a far away facility. Most plants never see their offspring.

Many plants are euthanized soon after “harvest.”

At the processing facility, vegetables undergo even more trauma. A sharp knife peals away a vegetables skin and it is often wrapped in airtight plastic wrapping for many weeks before being released. Those that survive this brutality must submit to freezing, storage and other associated indignities before being allowed to breathe.

Terrified veggies wait helplessly in a supermarket.

Even after being rescued by a shopper like you and I, many vegetables are further brutalized. A recent survey found that most veggies used in everyday snacks and meals are diced, chopped, cut, ground or pureed beforehand.

A veggie burial ground.

Kids learn destructive eating patterns that they keep with them their whole lives.

A well-supplied cook takes great pride in his or her weapons.

Perhaps the most shocking fact of all is that these vegetables are still perceived as appetizing despite the nature of their abuse.

A chef boils veggies alive in cooking oil.

Hidden from public view, the cruelty that occurs on factory farms is easy to ignore. But more and more people are taking a look at how farmed vegetables are treated and deciding that it's too cruel to support.

Secret meeting of a sadist veggie-abusing cult.

What we choose to eat makes a powerful statement about our ethics and our view of the world – about our very humanity. By not buying legumes, fruit, and vegetable products, we withdraw our support from cruelty to plants, undertake an economic boycott of factory farms, and support the production of cruelty-free foods. From children and grandparents to celebrities and athletes, compassionate living is spreading – and easier than ever! Today, even small-town grocery stores can feature a variety of burgers, dogs, and deli slices, milks, and dairy desserts – a bounty unimaginable only a decade ago!

Even if you like vegetables (and who wouldn't mind giving up a few veggies?) you can help end this cruelty. If everyone just cut their veggie consumption in half, billions of vegetables would be spared from suffering every year.

When you first discover the reality of modern vegetable agriculture, avoiding all products from factory farms might seem too big a change. But don’t be overwhelmed – just take small steps. For example, you could eliminate veggies from certain meals or on certain days. As you get used to eating fewer vegetables and find alternatives you enjoy, it may become easier to eliminate vegetables altogether.

When you share your new discoveries and ideas, some people may not only show resistance, but might even react with mockery or anger. In order to prevent suffering, however, we must let the compassion we feel for vegetables shine through the pain and anger we feel about the atrocities of factory farming. Unless others can respect us—as opposed to finding us cold and judgmental— they will have little interest in taking steps to end cruelty to vegetables.

Instead of expecting others to change immediately, we need to be understanding, giving everyone time to consider the realities of factory farms at their own pace and within their unique situations. Burning bridges with anger only serves to create enemies and to feed the stereotype that carnivores are self-righteous.

Although it may be tempting to argue over related topics (such as what our prehistoric ancestors ate), the simplest statement can be the most powerful: “I know that I don’t want to suffer. Therefore, I don’t want to cause others to suffer.” As long as we remain respectful, our positive example and the information we provide will ultimately be the best voice for the vegetables.

Tell your friends: DON'T EAT PLANTS!

FCN Classic: The ... thumb ... knows.

My old laptop crashed a few weeks ago, taking with it a lot of precious files. School was in full swing, so I hastily went shopping for a new computer. My choice: IBM's new Thinkpad T42, which has a load of cool features, including a little red ball between the G and the H that moves the mouse, and the latest in biometric security: a fingerprint reader. That's right, there was no longer any need for me to be memorizing and changing passwords, because all I had to do was push my thumb on a little pad next to the keyboard to verify that the user was me. Without that thumbprint, no imposter could log on and steal my files. This was the major selling point for me. I paid a little extra, but I figured the peace of mind was worth it.

The new computer worked great. I always got a grim satisfaction from pushing my thumb onto the reader every morning. "Take that, hackers!" I thought.

Then, four days before my midterm paper was due, calamity struck. I was working in the kitchen putting away dishes, my mind distracted by visions of a frustrated criminal trying to discover my non-existent password. Then I looked down and saw blood all over the towel. I had absently swiped my thumb across a paring knife, causing a minor flesh wound which was more irritating than painful. I dutifully bandaged up the cut and finished putting away the dishes, then sat down to finish writing my term paper. It was only then that the true magnitude of the situation hit me. I pressed my thumb on the reader, and it gave an error beep. I removed the bandage and tried again. Error beep. I tried the other thumb. Error beep. I tried all my other fingers and toes, and those of nearby friends and family members. The infernal reader wouldn't let me in. I had weeks of research on that hard drive. I frantically raced to the nearest computer lab and started my research anew, pushing the space bar with my left thumb. It was too late. My paper got a D.

When I saw that grade come back, I vowed never to let that happen to me again. So I did the only thing any reasonable person would do: I went down to the nearby arts and crafts store and bought myself a fake thumb. You know, the kinds magicians use for stupid parlor tricks. I went home and reprogrammed my Thinkpad to accept the fake thumb as mine. I then kept the thumb in a jewelry case in my laptop bag under lock and key (the key was in my wallet). Satisfied, I went back to daily life.



A week later, I went into Starbucks and ordered a Frap. Then I sat down in the corner. I removed the laptop from the bag, removed the key from my wallet, removed the thumb from the case, and booted up. I then promptly got engrossed in my work, and the next thing I knew, I was a half hour late for class. I frantically packed up and dashed out.

While sitting in class drawing pictures of burning houses, I suddenly realized with a start that I had forgotten to pack my fake thumb. It might be sitting on a table in Starbucks right now, waiting for some dastardly coffee-drinking hacker to find it! I nearly jumped up and ran out of class right then. But I am not that bad a student. I waited for it to finish, feverishly counting each passing second (as always). The moment class was dismissed, I grabbed my bag, hurled myself out the door, slipped and slid down the stairs, vaulted over a little old lady with a walker, and fired up my car. Minutes later, I was back at Starbucks. I burst open the door and cried:

"Has anyone seen my thumb?"

FCN Classic: Please Pass the Salt

My dear lady,

You are between me and the thing I want most at this very moment. Yes, you - the woman sitting across from me at this square three-by-three table - lie betwixt the condiment containers and my plate of steaming vegetables that demands their attention. Your chair blocks my arm and decency blocks my body from reaching over to claim them, but you are in an ideal position for such a reach. Hence my request:

I deem that the time it would take me to remove myself from my chair, walk around the table and capture the seasonings is much greater than it would be for you to lean over yourself and grab them. I also value my time more than I value yours making such a request doubly advisable. Your effort would be so much more insignificant compared to mine and your exertion would bring a healthy flush to your cheeks and maybe even have calorie burning advantages.

As much as it pains me to put you in such an awkward position and ask that you interrupt your train of thought and motor movements in order to satisfy my wishes, I feel that the request and commensurate reaction are an appropriate course of action.

To put my solicitation in a less garrulous form, I sincerely desire your attention and obedience as you deviate from your preplanned course of action and abide by my wishes. Please pass the salt.

FCN Classic: Top 10 Fairy Tales You Were Never Told As A Child

Yeah, yeah. I know. You graduated from Fairy Tales and don't plan on returning until you have children. But these Fairy Tales aren't the ones you were told as “bedtime stories” or picked up when you first learned to read. Those had the distinct disadvantage of being false; these have the advantage of being funny.

Here they are; the Top 10 Fairy Tales You Were Never Told As A Child:

10. Three Kind Mice. The charming story of three friendly rodents who learn the importance of being gracious and generous.

9. Alice in Blunderland. A collection of exciting children's stories that follow the life and times of a young girl (Alice) who falls down a Rabbit Hole and starts tripping over things.

8. Hassel and Gretel. An endearing story about a brother and sister who cause a lot of problems for their parents.

7. Rapulzive. The oddly poetic tale of a disgusting young critter with hair like Davy Jones who is locked up in a castle.

6. Cindersella. Story of a beautiful princess who forces her sisters to cut off their toes and peck out their eyes so she can marry the handsome prince.

5. Rumpeledstillskinny. A bedtime story (literally). An old man lays down to sleep in a last ditch attempt to gain weight (he figures he is burning too many calories by staying awake). When he rises from his bulimic slumber, years later, he is still thin. He lives happily ever after.

4. The Golden Gecko. Sponsored by Geico. The Gecko lays an egg which has various magical powers.

3. Snoring Beauty. In this enchanting story, a beautiful princess is discovered by a buff prince because of the noises she makes while sleeping.

2. The Big Mermaid. In this delectable tale, a mermaid discovers she doesn't need Curves to develop body confidence.

1. Ali Baba and the Forty Muslims. A delightful story about the Religion of Peace.

FCN Classic: Cowomander in Chief?

This post was written at a scary time when a Billary presidency looked plausible, if not imminent. We repost with a sigh of relief.

News travels slowly through the apathetic information sludge surrounding FCN headquarters, but we nonetheless discerned very quickly that Jillary Clinton is running for president. We are very, very excited about her candidacy for hopefully obvious reasons.

Evidently, Sillary is making the rounds with various news outlets, and we managed to get a piece of her as she prepped for a TV interview with an organization we would like to consider a competitor. Between layers of heavy makeup, she gave us the following conversation (gently edited for content):

FCN: Thanks for agreeing to talk to us.

Hillary: Who are you?

FCN: We're the students from Funny Class Notes. We were told we could talk to you for a few minutes.

Hillary: Who told you that?

FCN: That guy over there.

Hillary: Jack! Come here a second.

Jack: Yes, ma'am.

Hillary: You're fired.

Jack. Yes, ma'am.

Hillary: Oh, and Jack!

Jack: Yes, ma'am?

Hillary: Don't even think about going to work for that [guy running against me].

Jack: Yes, ma'am.

Hillary: And quit saying yes ma'am.

Jack: Yes, ma'am.

FCN: So, if we may ...

Hillary: Oh, you're still here. [sigh] Well, fire away.

FCN: Great! So, you may be the first female president in history! What does that mean to you?

Hillary: Well, I'm big on female empowerment. I think I got it from Bill. The presidency is just another step toward bringing true equality between the genders. I also think it'd be really great to have a president carrying a purse. And mark my words: with me in the white house, state dinners will be worth attending! [laughs]

FCN: What will you do to fight terrorism in office?

Hillary: Hey, if I can handle Ken Starr, I can handle Osama.

[Awkward silence]

FCN: Okay. Some people have accused you of being a carpetbagger. How do you respond to that?

Hillary: You're just saying "some people", but I know who you're talking about. You've been talking to that [guy running against me], haven't you?

FCN: I assure you that ...

Hillary: No matter. Well, there's a huge stream of defeats historically with carpetbaggers losing elections. I think I have a chance to change that and sort of redeem the whole thing. So I'm really going to be hoping for the carpetbagger vote.

FCN: There's a rumor going around that ...

Hillary: You leave my husband out of this.

FCN: Yes, of course ... but we were told that you may become the first president who doesn't drink beer.

Hillary: Ridiculous.

FCN: Can we ask you a sensitive question about your husband?

Hillary: Just be careful.

FCN: What does he think about your candidacy?

Hillary: He's very excited about the possibility of being the first First Man. I believe the words he used were: "All of the perks, none of the duty."

FCN: How well are you prepared to run the armed forces?

Hillary: I like the idea of all those hotshot generals having to answer to a woman. "Ma'am, yes Ma'am!" [laughs] Someone said "Cowomander in Chief." I like that. I like that a lot.

FCN: Some people say men make better leaders than women.

Hillary: I don't know who you've been taking your tips from, boy, but that's [hogwash]. For one thing, we women don't do stupid things in front of the opposite gender to prove ourselves. If [Bush] were a woman, think about all the problems we wouldn't have. It'd be a dream come true. Plus, he'd be a democrat.

FCN: What's your biggest priority for the first hundred days of your presidency?

Hillary: Well, it's a little early to be thinking about things like that, but mainly I just want to prove that Al Gore would have made a terrible vice president.

FCN: But wasn't he once vice president?

Hillary: That's pretty much my point, yes.

FCN: So, you opposed Al Gore's candidacy?

Hillary: Of course not. Don't be silly.

FCN: Some people are speculating about a Clinton-Obama ticket.

Hillary: That's outrageous. I would never let that [person with various properties it is insensitive to mention, particularly in a derogatory fashion] try to piggyback on my success. Do you realize we're courting pretty much the same votes? That [guy] is trying to steal my candidacy! I wouldn't come near him with a ten foot pole. In fact ...

[This portion of the conversation is off the record]

FCN: So, who would you consider for VP?

Hillary: Well, it's all speculation and equal opportunity and all that nonsense right now, but I think it'd be funny to run with Tipper.

FCN: Thank you so much for your time.

Hillary: Sure thing. Oh, and trim that mustache.

FCN Classic: It was so windy...

It was breezy today, wasn't it? Boy, the howling wind sure got my attention. How windy was it? It was so windy...

...the dog finally caught his tail.

...we turned off the indoor fans.

...birds flew backwards.

...Travis didn't have to blow dry his hair.

...Travis' hair actually looked good.

...Sam didn't have to tip the cows; he just watched them fall over.

...SUVs actually got good gas mileage.

...my little sister got pulled off to Oz.

...light waves were buffeted.

...I rode the umbrella into town.

...the National Weather Service asked Nancy Pelosi to shut up.

...all the cars at the drug store parking lot were on the south end.

...we had dinner on the wall.

...it was raining garbage.

...I walked outside and was undressed.

...the palm fronds became palm sticks.

...the garden was watered with the pool.

...the chickens were plucked before they were slaughtered.

FCN Classic: Noninvasive outpatient solutions to nerve pain due to prolonged wallet sitting

Web based doctors are the biggest medical advance since the invention of antibiotics, or so we are lead to believe by the exploding number of webpages touting experts on every ailment imaginable. Sites like WebMD are designed to answer online surfers' concerns, diagnose diseases and even give advice on what over-the-counter drugs to take, all without a face-to-face with a physician. Others like MetaFilter are just web answer sites that have discovered the huge market of self-helpers who can’t actually help themselves and need to turn to the internet for answers. The final class of internet doctors includes those who associate with a particular hospital (physical location, real doctors and IVs, etc) and give advice through a fancy organizational name like Mayo Clinic.

These online resources assume, often erroneously, that patients are providing all the facts. After all, a patient may easily taint a symptom's description by adding some details that may not be accurate but point to a patient preferred diagnosis. Without any visual or kinesthetic input and very little auditory participation, doctors make medical decisions that some people are gullible enough to follow.

So imagine my cynicism when a friend told me about an internet site that explained the dangers of sitting on a wallet for too long. Seriously, the Mayo Clinic’s website put up the following dire warning:

“To promote comfort and good posture while sitting…[r]emove bulky objects, such as a wallet, from your back pockets when you sit because they disrupt balance in your lower back.”

Meta Filter goes further to say that:

“[I]f you're like most guys and put your wallet in your back pocket and sit on it, that can cause pinching of the nerve causing pain with the removal of the wallet fixing the problem.”

The author of the Meta filter article was obviously a she-doctor or a very feminine guy. You don’t just ask a guy to remove his wallet. Most men are willing to endure “disruptions in balance” and even nerve “pinching” in order to keep their wallets close to their buttocks. I personally use a duct tape wallet with five compartments. When the duct tape leaves the vicinity of my derriere, it does funny things to me. Something about the security of knowing I’m sitting on my ID. For me, it’s duct tape; for some guys it’s leather, cloth or snakeskin.

While women carry purses, men sit on wallets. That’s the way nature made clothes and the crazy girl (who calls herself a physician) from Meta Filter is trying to mess up the natural cycle of things.

But she has a point: If nature is causing owies, let’s fix nature. But for goodness sakes, don’t do it by asking men to remove their wallets.

The medically minded folks here at Funny Class Notes sat down to think of some more reasonable ways to reduce back pain but not deprive men of the ever important wallet. Here’s what we came up with:

Implants. Hey, some women do it and some guys do it too (although that’s not a good topic for a family friendly website). Why not make special implants for pain sensitive men? 3 x 4 silicon plates could be inserted on the right or left side, depending on the user’s preference. The implants would be filled with a non-toxic fluid that would be invisible from medium to long distances. Men with implants would still be able to wear their Speedo at the public pool and not be self conscious at the country club. They would also support their back evenly while sitting on a full wallet.

Implants could be sized differently depending on the size of a user’s pocketbook. Keep all your coins in that pocketpouch? Have enough ID cards to make Frank Abagnale blush? Just get your implant sized a bit larger.

The only side effect of an implant is that it can create an imbalance whenever you don’t have a wallet. Because the safe removal of the silicon requires a surgical operation, it is advised that you wear a wallet at all times.

Implants are definitely a good, if expensive, way to get rid of wallet induced back pain.

Wallet Double. If one wallet causes pain, would two solve it? Guys who are afraid of pinched nerves could purchase a second dummy wallet to go along with their real one. This wallet double would be placed in the back pocket opposite the real pocketbook and apply pressure on the spine to equalize nerve pressure and reduce pain. The second wallet has numerous advantages, including the ability to keep many more credit cards and fool robbers.

A wallet double is an excellent way to reduce pain on a budget. Just don’t forget it in the morning.

Weight Gain. Since a lot of fat is stored in the Gluteus Maximal region, why not capitalize on nature’s padding to reduce back pain? When a nerve conscious man wants to mitigate the bone jarring impact of his wallet, all he needs to do is eat more pancakes in the morning. If his metabolism is slow enough, he will gain weight. If his body is smart enough, the excess fat will be placed in his rear and protect his spine from the wallet thus making a natural implant (see above).

Grin n’ bear it. If you have back pain from a wallet and aren’t rich (making implants an impossibility), are style conscious (obviating a wallet double) or have a girlfriend (making weight gain unadvisable), you may want to consider this last option. Men who are concerned about nerve health need only add a few pounds and let the resulting adipose do the protecting. When a man using the grin n’ bear it strategy feels nerve damage coming on, he tunes into the FCN hit “Ima Victim!” and continues sitting. It works every time.

Without meaning to, this post has turned an otherwise decent webpage into a disseminator of medical advice. For this we apologize profusely and ask that you follow none of it.

Unless, of course, you have wallet-induced back pain.

FCN Classics Fortnight

We tried this last summer and it was a smash hit. No, I'm not referencing an evening spent with the local country hicks cow tipping, although that was pretty fun. Neither am I referring to the time I decided to go 36 hours without sleep, because that wasn't a smash hit. Rather, FCN is going to return to the popular classics format for a couple of weeks to showcase all the awesome content that is relegated to the back pages of this site.

And we need your help. We have our ideas about what our "favorite" post is, but we have already established that our tastes look Amy Winehouse look normal. I still think our best post was that piece about whether George Washington really existed, but most of you can't even remember it because you have subconsciously blocked it out. The memory of the post caused too much pain and had to be expunged.

We are derelict college students, which naturally disqualifies us from any right to select good clothes and, by extension, good humor. But you, the faithful FCN few, are, at least in theory, perfectly normal people and perfectly normal fashion tastes. And, by extension, you have good taste in humor, your frequenting FCN notwithstanding.

This is FCN's 534th post. That's a lot of dereliction. It's also some hidden gems that you maybe haven't read or are good enough for a second look. In the comment section of this post or by emailing us at funnyclassnotes - at - gmail - dot- com, please identify any posts you would like to see honored in a Classics series over the next two weeks. Just a line or two of descriptive text or a hyperlink would be great. The posts don't have to be the "obvious" favorites (i.e. they can be posts that C has written), but they should reflect above average writing on the part of the boys here at FCN.

Speaking about the other guys for as second, we are dealing with some pretty hefty egos. People that need to kind of approval and affirmation offered only by the anonymous internet. I know, it's pretty bad, but it's the truth. If you can, please try to them the kind of encouragement that will keep them writing on into perpetuity. It doesn't take much, but a little nod can keep the heart of selfish egomaniac palpitating. For that matter, I wouldn't mind a nomination or two.

So get digging, folks. Our archives are open to your perusal (see the links on the sidebar). Pottery Barn rules do apply, so don't manhandle anything (what a sexist term!). But do browse to your heart's content. And then comment with which one of my posts you want reposted.

FCN Classic: Potty Humor

Disclaimer: The topic of the following essay is a restroom. This essay was not intended to be read by people with any sense of decency, sanitation, or propriety; that is, it was not written for the fairer sex. It contains descriptions of morbidly revolting (and sometimes friendly) creatures not originally intended for human company. This is the stuff nightmares are made of. My nightmares, anyway.

When we first moved into this house, the restroom was just short of brand new: it wasn't completely finished. The faux marble countertop needed to be caulked into the wall, and the one-piece shower/bathtub needed caulking into the floor. We assured ourselves that we would take care of these tasks as soon as we had time. There were so many other things to worry about at the time that we didn't bother ourselves.

My mother gifted us with a full set of matching restroom items with a sailboat theme, like toothbrush holder, soap dispenser, towels, shower mat, even a nifty picture to hang over the potty depicting a lighthouse on a cliff by the ocean. We had a full arsenal of towels, including a set of green ones with our names on them, and a stockpile of toilet paper and shaving cream. We considered ourselves moved in.

There's something funny about restrooms. You have to clean them. This is something it took us about two years to realize. Understand, for those of you who don't know us personally, that this restroom was used exclusively by a collection of males. Males do not notice filth until it asks them to scoot over. This is exactly what happened.

Two years had gone by, with five males cycling in and out as fast as they could, carrying out restroom tasks like showering, shaving, tooth brushing, and wrestling, day in and day out. The caulking was still unfinished. Multicolored scum started to build up around the potty. Then the shower. Then the walls and mirror. Then the sinks and toothbrushes. One day, while I was examining my ruggedly handsome visage in the mirror (this is after I had carved out a space in the layers of white stuff covering it), I heard a peculiar voice coming from the direction of the shower.

It was a cephalopod. It had come up from the crawl space and wriggled through the a rotted-away crack in the floor to talk to me. I was flattered that it would feel me to be worth the journey. I did not realize at the time how easy this journey was, nor how often it was completed.

"The boys and I have been talking," The cephalopod announced, "And we think the picture over the potty is unsightly." I glanced at the picture, which was of a glob of shaving cream on a cliff by the ocean.

"It is a bit strange," I conceded. "Want me to cover it up?"

"Actually," The cephalopod said, "We want it replaced."

"Well that's nice of you. Did you bring the replacement?" The cephalopod chortled, releasing a viscous yellow fluid that oozed off the potty into the waste basket.

"Don't you see?" It asked. "I'm your replacement." It moved into position just above the flush handle. "And this way, you don't have to flush anymore. I'll do it for you."

"What's a flush?" I asked.

The introduction of the Cephalopod on the Potty marked a new era for the boy's restroom. We call this era the Paleogooey era. It is identified in the layers on the mirror by whitening toothpaste full of small rodents and razor handles.

During this era, we uncovered seven new species formerly unknown to science - all of them rotifers, all of them visible without the use of a microscope. One species in particular had undergone the evolutionary process known as cephalization, which, for those of you unversed in the ways of quack science, is what happened to Cody a few years back. This new species was politically active, and, after a brief power struggle with the boys downstairs, established themselves as the rulers of the restroom, which was okay with us, because, under their leadership, the pond scum unclogged the shower drain. Now that's results.

There are two sinks in our restroom. One of them releases milky water, the other releases clear brown water. We use the milky water for shaving and the brown water for brushing.

We were able to coexist with our flora and fauna friends for the duration of the Paleogooey era. With the emergence of predators, however, we were forced into the Mesogooey era, marked by fossilized rodents and mollusks with faces contorted into expressions of agony.

As with most things in the restroom, predators came in all sizes, shapes, and textures. Some hung from the ceiling and dropped down on passing prey. Some hid in the medicine cabinet and leaped out when the door opened in order to scare people. Some drank the shampoo. Some drank other things. Irritated by these pests, the rotifers declared war on the predators, and marshaled their subjugated life forms into an army.

The battle was fought on the only surface dry enough for organisms that couldn't swim: the countertop. The leaders of both armies stood on bars of soap facing each other and exchanged threats and boasting. Then a dreadful melee occurred, during which more progress was done toward sanitizing the restroom than had ever been achieved in its entire cumulative history.

This astounding record notwithstanding, the rotifers were badly defeated and had to beat a hasty retreat to the liquid soap dispenser, where they negotiated a surrender on very unfair terms. The subjugated organisms gave up their weapons and returned to their homes and families. The normal rotifers were allowed to leave, but had to respect strict lifestyle regulations including taxes on all commerce, curfew, and observance of a no-fly zone. The leading rotifers were sold into slavery to the boys downstairs. The president of the restroom was tortured to death by slow roasting. This was achieved by an ingenious device fabricated just for the purpose by a clever but very rude fungus who used Ryan's contact lenses to magnify the sun's rays (this was back when the window over the shower could still admit light).

The Mesogooey era brought about a number of changes. We had to remove the shower mat because it was a breeding ground for some of the larger, toothier predators. This required special diving and pulling equipment, and a paper barf bag. We also had to put padlocks on the shampoos and conditioners because various grubs were holding conventions in the bottles. We received a petition signed by several thousand shower scum demanding that we remove the sanitizer from under the sink, which we obeyed with great alacrity. There's nothing worse than angry shower scum.

One day we discovered some mushrooms growing behind the potty. These were of a species we styled Fungi Loganhercium, though obviously it is impossible to know exactly who the ancestor was without DNA testing. Though we had been through a lot, we were upset by these mushrooms and decided that something had to be done about them. But I digress.

About this time, we discovered that the white stuff we had been using actually wasn't toothpaste, and the Mesogooey era came to an end. This ushered in the Neogooey era, marked by small mammals and fungi in various embarrassing and scandalous positions. The Neogooey era established a sort of balance. The predators roam free about the restroom, but try to avoid making us so bothered that we actually notice. The rotifers lead an underground resistance, and we can sometimes hear them engaging in strategic sabotage of predator strongholds, or breaking into weapons caches, which left us without basic hygiene equipment for the next day. The creepy crawlers used an all-natural substance to caulk the counter and shower at no charge.

As for the males, we get by with improvisation. Sometimes this means drying off clipped fingernails from the floor to replace stolen hygienic tools. Sometimes this means engaging in eloquent diplomatic and mediatory negotiations while doing one's business. Sometimes this means air drying after a shower, and sometimes it means using the threadbare rags under the sink - the ones with letters smeared across them.

The Cephalopod on the Potty has become a household favorite. He is calm, patient, and wise, to say nothing of being an excellent confidante and advisor, particularly in woman matters. Every morning, as I shower off the night's growth, I tell the Cephalopod on the Potty my troubles, and he invariably comes up with a maxim that sums up just how badly I have been screwed.

If we really wanted it, we could clean our restroom. We could contract with war lords from distant, despotic governments and purchase illegal biological weapons in exchange for national secrets. We could sterilize the restroom and rebuild from the crawl space up. There are two reasons we do not.

First, if we were caught, we would go to jail, and when we got back, we'd be grounded for a month. Second, we have grown to know and love the organisms that make up the restroom community. Sure, it's less than sanitary. Sure, there are unfriendly creatures. Sure, it's the kind of thing bachelors do. But this restroom has something all those clean ones don't: character. Both to the young males of the family and to millions of others, this restroom is home.

FCN Classic: Bad Game Ideas

Game ideas that didn't make it out of the brainstorm room:

The Barney Hunter
Sim City - Atlantis
The Mammoth Hunter
Escape from Kansas
Halo 4 - The Teenage Years
Escape from Lone Palm Island
Pirates! 3 - Terror of the Oil Rig
Kansas: Total War
Night of the Living Dead Sims
Age of Plumbers
Ghost Recon 5 - Trouble in Kansas
Frankenstein - The Game
Half-Life 3 - Flowers for the G-Man
The Plumber Hunter
Huxley 2 - Apocalypse Kansas
Escape from Greenland
Command and Conquer - Kansas
Goldilocks - The Game
Splinter Cell 5 - Homeland Security
The Pedestrian Hunter
Red Sky at Night
Doom 4 - Teleport to Kansas
Unreal Tournament 2007 - Plumber Wars
Call of Duty 3 - Mushroom Kingdom
Plumber: Total War
Quake V - So Happy Together
Spanish Inquisition: The Game
Civilization V - Stone Age Kansas
Medal of Honor - Main Street Plumbers
Battlefield Kansas
Escape from the Oil Rig
Barney - The Game
Doom 4 - Lone Palm Island
Sim City - Kansas
Halo 4 - Feisty Little Porkers
Barney: Total War
Day of Defeat 2 - Nobody Wins
Pirates! 3 - Marooned in Kansas
Revenge of the Rubber Duckie
Resident Evil 5 - Barney's Revenge

And the worst game idea ever to be squelched in committee:

Counter-Strike 2 - All Steam, No Game

FCN Classic: Mike Winther Should Shave

This post was written as a plea to Mike Winther requesting that he remove his attractive but altogether inappropriate facial hair. It is republished here as a classic, only so that our plea might once again be noticed. I had the honor of seeing Mr. Winther a week ago, and his face was just as hidden. It was great to see him, but I couldn't help but be saddened by his facial hair stubbornness.

Mr. Winther: I'll go ahead and make you a deal. If you shave your beard and send me a picture of the finished product, I will remove my sideburns and send you a picture to show the results. That's how serious I am about this; C'mon Mr. Winther!

We all love Mr. Winther. He has lived competitive academic debate for the vast majority of his life and artfully leads students through the process of becoming better speakers. His debate prowess, intellectual integrity and good humor make him one of the most adored debate coaches in California, perhaps even the nation. Those who know him are not likely to forget his contribution; those who don’t are missing out. Despite his individualism as a coach, Mr. Winther has made one concession to popularity that is visible to even the most casual observer: Mr. Winther has a full beard. While there is nothing inherently wrong with wearing a beard -- Santa Claus wears a beard and nobody complains – there is something terribly clichéd about a debate coach hiding behind whiskers.

After some deliberation, the folks here at FCN sat down to state our objections to Mr. Winther’s beard in an organized manner. We don’t in any way intend to impugn this lovable debate guru, just promote a visit to the barber, a Fusion purchase or whatever method he likes to remove his facial hair. We also aren’t promoting a completely clean shaven visage. If Mr. Winther likes a mustache and goatee combination or wants to keep his sideburns, we’ll be happy.

Without further ado, here are 10 Reasons Mr. Winther should shave:

1) Abraham Lincoln wore a beard

The bastion of inconsistency, patriarch of situational ethics and wet noodle executive chose not to shave and sported some rather unruly clumps of facial hair. Lincoln’s beard wasn’t just on his face, it is on the penny; it's his trademark. His striking features were made even more impressive by the dark growth he refused to hold back. While Mr. Winther’s beard is nicely trimmed, the very fact that he wears a beard creates a mental link between a libertarian hero and pragmatist politics. Cut the link: cut the beard.

2) People you love want to see your face

Since Mr. Winther grew his beard he has started a debate club, had a child and changed careers. While we don’t know the exact period of time (he has covered his presumably beautiful face as long as any of us have known him), we can deduce from personal interviews with Mr. Winther and a family member that the period of facial disguise has been for longer than 10 years. That’s a long time to keep one’s face covered. No one wears a hat or a pair of socks for that long. Few keep the same hairstyle for ten straight years, much less a facial hair arrangement.

This isn’t a matter of style, but responsibility to loved ones. A child should be able to know his or her father’s face, friends should not have to read between the hairs when gaging someone’s sincerity and those Mr. Winther judges in debate rounds would really like a peak at his real face. Mr. Winther should cede to the understandable wishes of those around him and pick up a razor. Cut the frowns: cut the beard.

Please excuse the uncharacteristic sentimentality of the above paragraph; we wrote it while listening to Kelly Clarkson’s Because of You. Strange things happen when you listen to that song.

3) Mrs. Winther wants you to shave

We don’t know this for a fact. Mrs. Winther never said anything to us, but she didn’t have to. We here at FCN take non-verbal communication very seriously and it doesn’t take a degree to read the wistful remorse on Mrs. Winther’s face every time she glances at her husband’s visage. She would never mention it to anyone, but the feelings are there, burning deep inside her. As with all non-verbal messages, we can’t be absolutely positive as to meaning of these looks. But we’re pretty confident here. 90 percent.

4) To whom much is given, much is required

Let’s face it; God gave Mr. Winther a really nice face. From the limited information we were able to gather, he was once very handsome. That’s not to say that Mr. Winther is ugly now, just that he has made lifestyle decisions that limit other’s ability to enjoy his good looks. We feel that he has been given a responsibility to show off his face and that he is abandoning his duty when he covers his features. If someone were gifted in horticulture, he should try to use his skills to God’s glory. If someone has a penchant for mathematics, the rest of us can be benefited from the utilization of that ability. Mr. Winther has been gifted with excellent physical attributes to accompany his intellectual abilities. He doesn’t keep his mind covered; why shouldn’t he display his face?

5) You will look younger and healthier

The last time Mr. Winther had a clean shaven face, he probably looked at least ten years younger. If he wants to enjoy that feeling again, the razor is waiting. As far as looking healthier goes, it is an empirically verifiable fact that clean shaven men look more vigorous. Unless Mr. Winther has some kind of terrible skin disease or a persistent wart that needs camouflaging (an independently disproved question) he will look better without the extra hair. Look younger, look healthier: snip, snip.

6) The comfort of five blades, the precision of one

Razor technology has advanced to such an extent that shaving is no longer a hazardous experience. The new Gillette Fusion, for instance, allows a reasonably cautious man to get a really close shave without fear of nicks and abrasions. And, as the ad shows, it makes people like you more too. The fact is that the morning shave is no longer something to be feared. Experts and novices alike are perfectly able to navigate the razor over their face and remove even the thickest growths. If technology is holding Mr. Winther back, we advise a trip to the Modesto drug supplier to look at today’s shaving alternatives. And hey, if the whole razor scene is too scary, chemical hair removers and laser surgery are viable substitutes.

7) That’s gotta itch!

Some members of the FCN staff have tried to or are currently supporting facial hair. While none of us approach the complete coverage Mr. Winther has achieved, our experience is enough to teach us that goatees, sideburns and mustaches can itch! Due to our relative youth, many of our hair growth attempts have yielded pitiful fuzz instead of the manly bristles like Mr. Winther’s. But even our fuzz itches. We can only imagine the torment Mr. Winther must suffer every day as he must live through the ticklish spines on his face. The pain isn’t necessary!

8) You need to show Kyle how to shave

Mr. Winther’s youngest is becoming a man. Kyle is, indeed, attained the age of twelve and has consummated his years by debated at his first tournament. Facial hair will inevitably follow. It would seem very hypocritical of Mr. Winther to ask his son to shave while not doing so himself. Sure, Mr. Winther could set up a dummy or bring in a volunteer, but a shaving lesson is best accomplished with a mirror, a razor and two faces. Don’t leave your son in the five o'clock shadow: shave!

9) The biggest libertarian thinkers are all clean or mostly shaven

What do David Boaz, Edward H Crane, James A. Dorn, Chris Edwards, Thomas Firey and Daniel T. Griswold have in common? These libertarian thinkers are all clean shaven. Join the crowd: shave the beard.

10) Because you like multiple points

We threw this one in to satisfy Mr. Winther’s carnal desire to see a wealth of arguments for a position.

FCN Classic: I'm A Victim!

A song that predates FCN, helps define one of our authors and plays prominently in much of our material is the original I'm A Victim! If you haven't heard this pretty chanson, you are missing out. Put it on your iPod and play it on repeat until you too begin to feel victimized.

If you want, you can read a couple of additional verses to the I'm A Victim song as well.

FCN Classic: Some Things Just Don't Need...

This post was inspired by Ron Burgandy's gaffe "When in Rome!." We thought that was funny. Not that we know who Ron Burgandy is. Originally posted in October of 2006.

Please accept the chorus of apologies to all the FCN faithful for our infrequent posting habits. Our classes have been so interesting – and our mid-terms so strenuous – that we haven’t had the chance to be funny in class. That all changed for me in an exceedingly tedious Business lecture the other day that served as a catalyst for the following:

Some lines don’t need to be finished; just the first part of a famous quip allows the reader to connect the dots. This has a great conversational application. Whenever you want to utilize a cliché, just use the part listed below and those around you will think you are hip. If they don’t, reconsider your facial hair choices.

Disagree? Decide for yourself…

A bird in the hand...
A fool and his money...
A penny saved...
A picture is…
A rolling stone…
A stitch in time…
A taste of your own...
Actions speak louder...
All bark...
All foam…
All that glitters...
All work…
As long as you live under my roof…
Beauty is in…
Bite the…
Dead as a...
Dead men tell…
Do not ask…
Don’t cry over…
Don’t put all your eggs…
Don't count your chickens...
Don't look a gift horse...
Great minds...
Idle hands...
It is water under...
It takes two...
It’s all Greek...
Leave no stone…
Let bygones...
Let’s bury…
Neither a borrower...
Never bite the hand...
Not the sharpest…
Out of sight...
Out of the frying pan...
People who live in glass houses...
Rome was not built...
Six of one...
The bigger they are...
The early bird...
The straw that broke...
Three bricks shy…
Two wrongs...
What goes up...
What they don't know...
When in Rome...
You can’t teach…
You can't judge a...