Ask Doctor Differ

(We at The Differ would like to introduce our new contributor, Dr. Differ, PhD. He received a Doctorate in Expertise from South Princeton University in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. He prides himself in knowing more than everyone else, so we've asked him to counsel some troubled readers of The Differ.)

Dear Esteemed Doctor Differ,

We are worried. We have worked hard for decades to build a club of power and tradition, and now that is threatened. More and more, "the powers that be" are forcing us to let new money into our precious club. We, in places like Ann Arbor, South Bend and Tuscaloosa have fought against the tyranny of parity. Yet, these Lilliputian losers are intent on ruining a good thing.

We have graciously allowed these less fortunate ones to park our cars, wash our dishes, check our coats, and look us in the eyes, only to be spit in the face. How can we be respected if we let these pip-squeek upstarts into our club? Many (we'll just call the worst offenders, the Mormons, the Red Mormons, the Blue Turfs, the Horny Frogs, the Castro Street Warriors and Fresno State) knock our doors at all hours of the day, expecting us to answer.

To further display our graceful nature, we have recently gone against tradition and allowed some of them into our soirees, if they met some reasonable demands. This only led to calls for our club to be torn down. Never! This just goes to show you that if you give a dog a bone, he will hump our leg until you give him another. What can we do to get them away from our club? Build and electric fence? Ignore them? Please Dr. Differ, help us.

Traditionally yours,
The Bastions of College Football
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Dear Bastards,

This reminds the Dr. of the time his beloved English Bulldog, Sir Thomas More, peed on his Ottoman. (This was not a footstool but a life-size statue of a medieval Turkish conqueror.) To punish this urination, the Dr. used the only civilized form of canine punishment, humiliation. The doc dressed Sir Tom in a tutu and a Clippers jersey and paraded him up and down the aisles of the local Pets-R-Smart store. Tail between his legs, he learned his lesson.

The only way to stop these upstarts from peeing all over your tradition is through humiliation. However, you have a conundrum. You can't simply grab the intruders by their hind legs and slide a frilly tutu over their hips; you must convince them to do it themselves. You will have to allow a few of them into your club for a few hours, but trust the Dr., it will be worth it. And best of all, they will think that is was worth it for them also.

These upstarts need to think ridiculous acts must be performed for entrance into exclusivity. Even though the most ridiculous thing any of you did to get into the club was being born to parents named Thurston and Kitty, it is crucial the outsiders believe that the ridiculousness is necessary.

Invite a handful of wanna-be members to the "presentation ceremony" on your front lawn (that way they feel good about getting through the front gates, but they can't actually stink up the clubhouse). Let them know that only one membership is available, so they must compete for it. Concoct with your cronies a few "events," making sure that there will be a lot of spectators for the outsiders' humiliation. These events could include naked freeway unicycle races, trekkie fashion shows at a renaissance faire, being seen at a Raiders game; really whatever your twisted minds can invent. Just remember to have fun.

You will have to choose a winner and allow him to come to a party at the clubhouse, but if you look at the big picture, that one night will be worth it. Besides, he'll probably get smashed and end up head first in the courtyard fountain anyway.

Advisingly,


Doctor Differ

(Questions for Doctor Differ can be sent to doctordiffer@gmail.com. If it is good enough, he may respond on this blog.)

Beg the New Fast Automatic F-REEK (or, how to waste two hours at work)

(Like most of the Beg the Differs, this does not approach a debate. In fact, we are not really sure what to call it. This is only barely sports-related. Still, you'll be happy to know that we avoided all of our Frequently Despised Sports Terms. The deep question invoked in this tome is "What is my Wu-Tang name?")

me: My Wu Tang name is Bilious Bad Janitah.

Yours is 100-Watt Warlock.

Corban: How do you find these out?

me: A Wu Name Generator.

Coulter's is Ol` Mucky Terrahawk.

Zach's is Spunky Misunderstood Genius.

Shad's is Half-Cut Skeleton.

me:

My boss's is Flailing Fanatical Killer.
I think I'll keep that one to myself.

me:

Grandma Gibson is Big Wicker Ventriloquist.

me:

Your wife's is Homicidal Terrahawk.

I would keep that one between us also.

Your youngest daughter's is Temporary Spastic.

Corban: Very appropriate.

me: Nino's is Superintendent God-Botherer.

If I put my middle name as my second name instead of my last name mine is actually Gorky`s Zygotic Glove Puppet.

If I do the same for Zach, he's Ol` Filthy, Sweaty Bastard.

The same for you, Bastard, BASTARD HarbourMastah.

The same for Shad is, I'm not making any of this up, Big Gay Mule.

Eli is Womanly Panther.

Corban: I'm in tears.

We could make an article of this by putting in athlete's names.

Put in Obama, Biden, McCain and Palin.

me: Palin is Erratic Assassin.

Oddly enough McCain is the same.

Obama is Ultra-Chronic Monstah.

Joe Biden is Ungrateful Ninja.

Corban: Moe Szylak.

me: Cybernetic Tiger.

Perhaps I should keep this one from you, but John Elway's is Asthmatic Enemy of God.

Corban: You're a lying bastard.

me: No, that's Bill Romanowski.

Dick Cheney is
Top-Heavy Hookjaw.

me: You have the same WuName as Fuquan Abduljahari.

Corban: Who's that?

me: I don't know, I just made it up.

If I only put in your first name you are Tha Roly-Poly.

Corban: That could be my gladiator name.

me: If I only put in Zach's first name he is Bigoted.

But as Zachariah he is suddenly Drug-Addled.

Josh alone is Machiavellian.

The Differ is New Fast Automatic F-REEK.

Corban: You should put that on the banner.

me: Absotively.

This will go on as a completely unnecessary Beg the Differ Short to introduce the new (and likely very temporary) subtitle for the Blog.

A.J. Pace's is Chocolatey Shatner.

My fantasy team's is Action-Packed Mentallist.

Corban: You must not have much work to do today.

What's Ron Artest?

me: Tell that to all of the people calling.

Lazy-Assed Destroyer.

Sorry, that was Ol' Dirty Bastard's.

Ron Artest's is Tha 23rd Buchan

Corban: lame. TO?

me: Dubious Masturbatah-X

Corban: That's awesome.

Pacman Jones?

me: Chad Johnson's is Cheeky Delinquent.
But, change Johnson to Ocho Cinco and he's Alarmingly-Named Wolfman.

Pacman Jones- Dizzy Cow.

Wow, John Stockton's is Tha Visible Choirboy.

While, oddly, Jeff Hornacek is Gratuitous F-REEK.

Jay Cutler is My Cousin the Wife-Beatah.

Deion Sanders is Inscrutable Drama Queen.

Michael Irvin is Greasy Choirboy (I guess that's the Bizarro-Stockton).

Michael Jordan is Pre-Raphaelite Shaolin.

So, extremely effeminate ninja.

Corban: Karl Malone?

me: Excitable Misunderstood Genius.

Somehow Andrei Kirilenko is Illegitimate Muslim Fundamentalist.

Matt Harpring wins, his is Officer Stinkah.

Correction, Ronnie Brewer wins, his is Violent Toilet Thing.