Man Waiting by Mailbox for Check from Esurance

Halloran, conveniently photographed as he was checking his mailbox from the inside of his mailbox.

Northville, MI – Local man Brian Halloran, 34, as of 8:37 AM today, has been anxiously waiting by the mailbox in front of his apartment complex, expecting to receive an immediately-cashable check from insurance company Esurance.

“They said on ad I get money,” Halloran remarked. “I like money.  I want money.  If I wait here, I get money.  Want money now.”

Esurance, a company that sells car insurance, made national waves when they ran an ad immediately following yesterday’s Super Bowl, promising to give away $1.5 million to a random twitter user, provided the user tweeted the hashtag “#EsuranceSave30.”

Halloran was one of the 25 million twitter accounts to do so, each of which tweeted the hashtag an average of two times, making the total number of #EsuranceSave30 tweets total 50,000,000.

“I win money,” he said to himself at 9:29, 10:16, 11:53, 1:44, 3:20, and 5:02 today. “Win money get happy.  Esurance and Jim Halpert give me money.  I like money now.”

Halloran’s odds to win the $1.5 million, which would most likely be less than half that amount when adjusted for taxes, are 0.00000002%.

Team-by-team Predictions for the NFL in 2014

We all know how this season’s Super Bowl will go down. Bill Belichick, after using his rarely-confirmed-but-widely-assumed necromancy powers to revive Rob Gronkowski’s knee (and also hiring Nancy Kerrigan’s boyfriend to demolish Peyton Manning’s knee), will lead his team of diabolic henchmen to yet another Super Bowl appearance. Combining his black magic prowess with a well-used and peculiar gravitational phenomenon that occurs around Giselle Bundchen’s breasttaking breaths — did I get that right? — the Patriots will win the Super Bowl by 30 or 40 points over the opposing team, who could be basically anyone but the Eagles.

In the off-season and beyond, however, the picture is less clear. To help guide you through what should be a fascinating year in the NFL, here are our predictions for 2014.

Prince Emerges From Duchess Kate’s Womb

Womb Raider

At approximately 4:30pm this afternoon, renowned musical artist Prince emerged from the womb of Duchess Kate Middleton at St. Mary’s Hospital in London, sources report.

While there has been considerable hype leading to the birth of Middleton’s child, few were expecting Prince, a 55-year-old racially ambiguous man from Minnesota, to slide out of her uterus this afternoon.

“I must admit I’m a bit surprised,” said Kate Middleton.  “I knew that my son would be someone great, and, er, I know some people think he is great at some things sometimes.”  

Budweiser Ads Inspire Drunk Men to Buy Clydesdale, Nation’s Daughters Thrilled

CHICAGO, IL — The day after Super Bowl Sunday has come to mark a national holiday for little girls across the country as tens of thousands of drunk fathers rush to buy the Clydesdale horses that appear annually in national Budweiser commercials.

A group of seven men who viewed Super Bowl XLVII at Callaway’s Pub in Chicago’s Lakeview neighborhood echoed the voices of many drunken men across the United States who happened to be well into their eighth beers as this year’s iconic Clydesdale Budweiser ad played.

“That man gave his horse everything he got, and it broke his damn heart when the fella didn’t recognize him after all those years,” claimed Lou Romano with tears welling in his eyes,  “Hell, nearly broke our damn hearts, too.”

An Open Letter to my Unborn Grandson Explaining the Sport of Football

Dear Unborn Grandson,

Still waiting for the Houston Texans’ upcoming “Divisional Round Dubstep.”

If you are reading this now, two things must have happened. Apparently, a) I have lived like I died, drunkenly paddling a canoe in the buff down the Chicago River, and b) President Malia Ann Obama has outlawed the sport of football in our once-proud United States of America. Luckily for you, I predicted that such travesties would happen — mostly because canuding through the poisonous sludge that is the Chicago River while belligerently intoxicated can have adverse effects on your health — but also because the sport of football was pretty damn dangerous. What follows is all the important knowledge you will ever need to know in order to preserve the memory and history of the sport of football and ensure that you never ever fall prey to the allure of its metrosexual European cousin.

You see, Unborn Grandson, football was the greatest sport ever invented. The perfect combination of brawn and strategy and cheerleaders. Good God, don’t ever let us forget the cheerleaders.

Speaking of God, Yahweh fucking loved football. Just fucking loved it. Loved the sport so much that members of both teams would pray to God, asking for strength, fortitude, a sturdy offensive line, and a guaranteed contract plus incentives. God rewarded good Christians who couldn’t throw a spiral with an impregnable defense, while punishing other franchises with the likes of Cade McNown and Rex Grossman.

God loved football because football fucking ruled. In America, pro football was more popular than if Justin Bieber and cholesterol teamed up with all other major sports combined. No other game combined savage violence with cunning tactics and celebration dances quite like it. The game induced grown men in Philadelphia to throw D-batteries at Santa Claus, wear slices of cheese on their heads as they froze their asses off in Wisconsin, and even every once in awhile travel willingly to Detroit (this, after all, was before the city was overtaken by the mole people).

The athletes who played the game were revered as gods among men. If, you know, the gods were really great at running hitch and go routes and sending pictures of their junk to women they weren’t married to. Even the kickers, whose sole purpose in life was to — you guessed it Unborn Grandson — kick a ball still got laid, an impressive feat for somebody like Sebastian Janikowski.

Back before Google installed screens in all of our heads, we used to watch this magical sport from early Fall until February on things called “televisions,” which showed us the game and expert analysis of the game and hot women drinking shitty beer during breaks in the game. Sidenote: One day, Unborn Grandson, you might think that drinking Busch Light is “hip,” and “retro,” and “ironically hilarious,” but let me tell you, it’s not. All of your little hipster friends in the year 2063 might think it’s really cool to ironically drink your old man’s beer while you listen to Skrillex mp3’s and wear skinny jeans or some shit like that, but those kids have no idea how painful these things were at the time. Just be advised that my will specifically strips you of all rights to my Pokemon card collection if you are ever found Tebowing.

But yeah, TV was pretty great for football, and at the very end of the season, America held a special sacred holiday called Super Bowl Sunday. For one day the entire nation turned its eyes on the two best football teams of the year, who tried very hard to win the championship game and the ensuing confetti and the pretty metal trophy and the rights to wear rings the size of diamond-crusted nuva rings and to cry into Chris Berman‘s microphone. Halftime entertainment featured the very best aging classic rock stars had to offer, and even the occasional rogue booby or floating Usher.

The only thing better than professional football was college football. The college game was as passionate as Sicilians, and its governing body was as corrupt as, well, Sicilians. The rivalries were intense, and the pregames before a noon kickoff were unseemly in the best possible way.

Now, I’m sure grandpop’s alma mater has made quite a name for itself in the future, thanks to alumni like Ross Packingham (Beer Pong Olympic goldmedalist, 2024, 2028) and Chet Haze (Bratz 3D, Forrest Gump 2: Gump n Grind), but we were once a pretty respectable football institution too. We’re talking, like, the 7th most feared Big Ten team.

College football had things called “bowl games” instead of the Super Bowl to commemorate the end of its season. It worked kind of like youth soccer, where almost everybody got a trophy. I can still remember the thrill of victory when Northwestern won its first bowl game since the Rose Bowl, defeating the South Dakota State Jackrabbits in one of the most thrilling Overstock.com Money Grab Bowl in years. Those were the days. Half of the school erupted into celebration while patiently explaining to the other half what a first down was.

But I can only assume that the goddamn liberals and the socialists and the gays and the concussed NFL retirees will collude together to pressure President Malia Obama to ban the sport from America altogether in the near future. I cannot express how tragic of a mistake this will be, on par with our future decision to defrost Walt Disney or replace football with children fighting to the death for our entertainment.

Alright, Unborn Grandson, I hope this letter has reached you well. Please understand how important the sport of football was to all Americans, and don’t judge us too harshly for our cultural transgressions during the YOLO era. Things like twitter and Four Loko seemed like pretty great ideas at the time.

Well, that’s about it. I hope things are well in the future for you and your Roomba overlords. Are they still making teenage fiction about vampires? Has Christopher Nolan won an Oscar yet? How does your generation feel about the Black Keys?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a river to canude down.

Sincerely,
Evander

Why I’m transferring to Arizona State

Okay, so don’t think of this as a break up. Just think of it as a “see ya later pal,” aight? Because honestly, this isn’t about you. It’s about me needing to do what I have to do.

So here it is: I think I’m transferring. Probably to Arizona State. Sorry. But as I do in all breakups, and to make this much easier on you, I’ve compiled a list of reasons why:

How come the student-to-hot-tub ratio isn’t factored into U.S. News & World Report Rankings?

1. Warmth
Literally what the fuck is with this snow? I thought it was like April or some ish like that. Didn’t we kill Punxatawnee Phil? Seriously, this is some bull. But in the warm sands of Tempe, we find an oasis of warmth and sunshine. ASU is the perfect mix of a hot, beach-like climate with no humidity to totally ruin your hair. This warm weather allows for a minimum of clothing, something that you’ll soon see is a key point. This balmy climate has long attracted retirees and schleppers, so why not me? I’ve had it up to HERE with the cold weather! I’m getting’ on up, movin’ on out and sittin’ back down in a lawn chair next to the private pool I assume each ASU student gets.

What the f**k are the Miami Heat wearing?

A few things you should know before proceeding:

It actually makes you look like you can’t dress yourselves

1. This article is officially dedicated to the magnificent section of the blogosphere that is “What the F**k is Michael Jordan Wearing?,” which would probably be my favorite Tumblr of all time if Ryan Gosling had never been born.
2. The only person I hate more than Newt Gingrich is Dwyane Wade. One time last year after the headache-inducing Eastern Conference Finals, I was taking the train to downtown Chicago. A guy passed me wearing a black Wade jersey. I almost fought him.
3. The only thing that made me jizz my pants more than the Super Bowl trailer for Avengers (which if you don’t think I’m gonna write an entire article about said trailer then you my friend have got another thing coming) was the news that the 2011 NBA lockout was over, starting with five games on Christmas Day. Halfway through the Heat-Mavericks Christmas game, I realized something: I actually hate the Miami Heat even more than I love the Chicago Bulls. And I love the Bulls a lot (wooo Luol Deng’s an All-Star wooooooo).

UPDATED: How to Watch the Super Bowl

Act confused when informed that no team from New York is in the game.

The Game is here! After weeks of buildup and waiting, it’s finally time for the NFL Championship Super Bowl of Championshipness to Decide It All. You probably have some friends who are fans of either the New York Giants Baltimore Ravens or the New England Patriots San Francisco 49ers (those are the teams playing in it, ok?). And there’s a pretty good chance you’ll watch it with some people who are quite emotionally invested in this particular football pigskin gridiron matchup showdown game.

So, in our continuing series of helpful tips, we at The Ave want to offer a few suggestions on how to be as heinous as possible during any Super Bowl party:

• Wear the jersey of a team that isn’t playing and bring an #Occupy sign and rant about how unfair it is that 1% of the teams get 99% of the Super Bowl. Spout various anti-elite slogans, set up a tent, and grossly overstay your welcome.

• Ask loudly and repeatedly when the Puppy Bowl is on. Scoff loudly if anyone informs you that you’re at a Super Bowl party and proceed to attempt to take bets on which puppy will poop first.

• If the host asked everyone to bring a snack to share, make sure to bring plain pita chips with no hummus or dip. Proudly offer them up to replace the main meal and announce that you read on the Internet that pita chips are great for your colon. If anyone goes for normal, good-tasting chips you must glare at them and ask if they even care about their colon health.

• Declare repeatedly that you’re pretty sure the coin toss decides the whole game. Keep asking who won the coin toss and alternatively celebrate or start crying when you’re told.

Be sure to dress appropriately!

• Come absurdly prepared with stats, charts and play breakdowns. Repeatedly pause the game to show everyone what just happened and why it should have been anticipated by the defense. Act like this doesn’t make you the single worst human being ever.

• Complain that the halftime show isn’t gaudy enough. Demand more fireworks.

• At halftime, recoil in horror when Madonna start screaming and peeing with joy when Beyonce comes out. Ask if she’s a real human being or if this means “they have finally arrived.” this is the second coming. Weep openly.

• Attempt to start a debate about whether the two-minute warning should be introduced at the college level. Tell everyone what a difference it would make and unironically declare that Oklahoma would be national champs if there was a two minute warning. Use that as your sole piece of evidence.

• Tell everyone about every single bet you’ve made on the game a minimum of three times. Shout with disproportionate anger or joy every time you lose or win a bet. Try to get everyone else to cheer with you. Call it your DM fundraiser and accuse anyone not cheering of hating kids with cancer.

• If the game is close in the last two minutes, feverishly attempt to convince everyone to pause the game so you can watch the latest episode of Alcatraz Catfish. If they resist tell them they just don’t understand good television and laugh condescendingly.

• Get way drunker than everyone else and belt out every patriotic song you can think of for the entirety of the third quarter.*

• When the game is over, refuse to watch the trophy presentation because the trophy is named after Vince Lombardi and the Packers suck.

• Study for your Consumer Insight midterm for the entire game. In any quiet moment yell “social comparison involves seeing yourself through the prism of everyone else around you!” and then look around for confirmation. If others seem confused, inform them that your midterm is at 10 a.m. on Monday because your professor is a football terrorist.

Bring enough food for 12.

• Live tweet the entire thing. Tag a famous person in every tweet and act offended when they don’t promptly respond. Read every tweet aloud then ask everyone to check on their phones that the tweet sent. Giggle about every tweet you send.

• UPDATED for 2013: Accuse anyone rooting for the Niners of hating gay people and anyone rooting for the Ravens of being a murderer. Say you only root for the London Sillynannies because you aren’t a xenophobe.

Now, if this doesn’t seem to work you can always just try being a fan of Tim Tebow. That usually annoys people enough and is quite easy, assuming you have no moral compass or sense of goodness in the world.

——————————————————————————————————————————
*This actually makes you the best person alive.

The Pros and Cons of the NBA Lockout

Dear God, please don't force us to follow the NHL instead

Tense labor relations have always held a special place in America, from the Pullman Strike of 1894 to the recent Writers Guild strike that cost the American entertainment industry $500 million and Jay Leno the remaining shreds of his humor. But this year’s NBA lockout ranks among the more important and entertaining labor wars in U.S. history, pitting millionaires against mega-millionaires in one of the most asinine power struggles since Congress appointed a joint committee to reduce the debt.

Now, with the NBPA rejecting David Stern’s ultimatum and sending negotiations into a “nuclear winter,” the 2011-2012 NBA season is in more danger than an intoxicated Freshman girl in the 3rd floor of SAE. Besides not having to pay $55 for nosebleed seats to watch the Bulls play the Timberwolves in one of the least inspired athletic performances since Shaq in Kazaam, here are the pros and cons of losing this year’s entire NBA season to the lockout.

PROS

Do you see a ring on this finger?

LeBron James Goes Another Season without a Ring
With a quarter of the season cancelled so far and the rest of the season in jeopardy, it seems likely that the Whore of Akron will be blue balled for yet another year. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of King James barnstorming with All-Stars in high school gymnasiums is an awesome idea. I just hope that the players spring for trained CPR professionals to be on hand for when LeBron chokes in the fourth quarter.

Increased Focus on College Basketball
Without pro basketball, we can all devote more attention to the real games. Not that watching the Toronto Raptors play the Oklahoma City Thunder isn’t fascinating, but I’d much rather watch student athletes give it their all night after night than watch Blake Griffin dunk on the Trail Blazers. And when it comes to the playoffs, Virginia Commonwealth beating Kansas offers far more suspense and drama than the Celtics beating the Knicks in four straight games.

The Fall of David Stern
Who knew that a miniscule white man could be so goddamn overbearing? The same commissioner who instituted a dress code to make players look less “urban” has managed to lose both control over the owners and the trust of the players with his negotiating tactics that make Stalin look like Neville Chamberlain on estrogen. The smugly arrogant man did great things for basketball, but his days seem numbered.

Wait, they ACTUALLY call travelling over here!?

Turkish Basketball
With the signing of All-Star Deron Williams, Beşiktaş Milangaz immediately became a Turkish Basketball League powerhouse. With the possible addition of Kevin Love, Carlos Boozer, and Luol Deng, the Fighting Black Eagles have a chance to be the 1995-1996 Chicago Bulls of the EuroChallenge. And nothing beats watching 8,000 screaming Turks watching a basketball game.

CONS

Increased Focus on Northwestern Basketball
More time to devote to college basketball means more time to devote to Northwestern basketball, which means more time to suffer from heartbreaking embarrassment. Seeing as the Wildcats have yet to reach the NCAA Tournament, and hasn’t even finished above fourth place in the Big Ten since the Tet Offensive, the odds seem a bit stacked against us. Although it certainly does feel good to dominate the Texas-Pan American Broncos, even an NIT win would feel pretty good.

Thank goodness we still have the Puppy Bowl

ESPN Programming Post-Super Bowl
ESPN’s programming after the Super Bowl and March Madness can get pretty dire before baseball season starts up again even in non-lockout years. But without basketball highlights, SportsCenter won’t have anything to discuss besides the top 100 greatest chessboxers of all time, while ESPN broadcasts nothing but Cheese Chasing and arena football at night.

No Derrick Rose
Probably one of the most tragic aspects of the lockout is that it prevents us from watching Derrick Rose lead the Bulls with his lightning-quick crossover and fearlessness in the key. The MVP is the pointguard of Thibodeau’s dreams, and has been key to the the Bulls’ recent success. If I miss out on the opportunity to watch Rose because a lot of rich men want to be richer, I might punch the nearest kitten.

A much simpler time in basketball history

Loss of Greed and Theatricality
The NBA has a stunning lack for both, and both the players and the managers have displayed their inordinate desire to get more than they need (or deserve), and to try and look good while they do it. No American sports league has ever had a higher average salary. It’s difficult to side with either party while they bicker over how much they should profit from Tomahawk jams and jersey sales, cancelling games and fucking over not just the fans, but every NBA arena employee trying to support their families by selling $9 bottles of Miller Genuine Draft to season ticket holders.