Wright Brothers vs Tia and Tamera Mowry

Two invented flight. The other two look alike.

RYAN: Kitty Hawk. 1903. In an act of unprecedented defiance for their time or ours, Orville and Wilbur Wright instantly became household names by extending a giant middle finger to gravity and flying with the birds. Until that day, gravity had been a cruel dictator that ruled that entire world with an iron fist, forcing people back down to the ground no matter how high they jumped or how many balloons they held. While lesser men cowered and obeyed gravity’s every demand, the Wright Brothers dared to dream. To dream of differential drag and the coefficient of air pressure. And with their historical 59-second flight that surely felt like at least two or three minutes, they broke free from the shackles of physics and weight distribution and said “Hey gravity, how ’bout you sit this next one out?”

SHAWN: If you think The Wright Brothers were ahead of their time, just take a look at a progressive (and hilarious) WB comedy from the mid-90s. Tia, Tamera, Roger and the whole Sister, Sister gang taught us about extending a middle finger to the gravity of sadness by laughing our asses off. Twins have always been funny (see Olsens or Apollo/Artemis), but the Mowrys made twins cute, sassy, and fashionable. Not since Blossom have overalls and fishermen caps been so mischievous and fun. Hell, even their crappier jokes provided laughs that lasted longer than 59 seconds, Wright Brothers. And those brothers were one-hit wonders, whereas the Mowrys’ career extended to hit films like Twitches. The Mowrys are the real heroes. The Wright Brothers are America’s Roger.

They'll always have their Doublemint gum.

RYAN: How exactly was Tia and Tamera’s “comedy” ahead of its time? I like mistaken identity jokes and twins pretending to be one another as much as the next guy, but I liked them more the first time around with “The Parent Trap”. The 1961 version with Hayley Mills, not the career-launching Lohan-ized version. I guess the suits at ABC realized the same thing when they cancelled Sister, Sister almost immediately. Good thing the WB is around to pick up other networks’ scraps. But don’t sell their careers short. There was also Twitches, Too, and, here comes the big one, The Hot Chick starring one Rob Schneider. At least the Wright Brothers had enough class to know when to stop and never sunk down to Rob Schneider territory. For shame, Tia and Tamera. For shame.

SHAWN: How was Sister, Sister ahead of its time, you ask? Fine, if I have to spell it out for you: it’s a black show that only white people talk about fondly. There you go—a thrilling precursor to That’s So Raven, My Brother and Me, The Boondocks, and The OC. Sister, Sister may have been ABC’s scraps, but The WB baked those scraps into a five-season mincemeat pie juggernaut. I mean, why would the same network that cancelled Pushing Daisies and My So-Called Life cancel something people like? Granted, The Hot Chick was a mistake, but that didn’t stop these perseverant sisters from launching singing careers that breached Billboard Top 100. That’s a true champion. Not flash-in-the-pan “inventors” who lucked into creating something that was pretty much already invented. Yeah, they weren’t the first to build and fly an experimental aircraft; they just added controls. I can Wiki your side, too.

Real men only need 59 seconds to get it done.

RYAN: Just added controls? Just added controls?!? That’s like saying Michelangelo just painted the Sistine Chapel or Einstein just discovered the theory of relativity. Downplaying something so monumental is just plain insulting. Sure, not everyone can better the world by paving the way for shows like That’s So Raven. But the Wright Brothers laid the groundwork for all the things we take for granted today: Blue Angels, airports, Top Gun, the Mile High Club, the Travelocity Gnome, and oh so much more. How about this: When you fly to Hawaii in your lavish coach seat, you take a second to thank the Wright Brothers for making your trip possible. And next time I’m ordering a Happy Meal at McDonald’s, I’ll be sure to thank Tia and Tamara for remembering to make my cheeseburger ketchup only.

SHAWN: I suppose controls are important to an airplane but, think about it, how long do you think the airplane would’ve lasted without them? Hours? Years? Well, some are clearly running for United, so I guess it’s still a problem. But here’s the thing: SOMEONE would’ve invented those controls. There’s nothing special about the Wright Brothers besides being born years after the bubonic plague when brothers would’ve been considered disease-ridden evil and left to die in a farm cart. Tia and Tamera, on the other hand, were irreplaceable, as we’ve seen from every twin-related sitcom that’s come since, including Apartment 2F and the recently googled Twins—a poor attempt by the WB to recreate something beautiful and sacred (mostly beautiful). And I’m not sure what McDonald’s you go to, fatty, but the only thing the Mowrys will be doing there is discussing Tia’s 2008 NAACP Image Award nomination over coffee before she gets back to work on the CW’s hit series The Game. Meanwhile, Mr. Wright, my bicycle tire is flat. You better get on that.

Crime vs Punishment

Dostoevsky's going to feel so stupid after reading this.

Ever since the two were joined together in holy literature (Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret?), there’s been a consistent battle over who claims the more badass territory. Finally, Dostoevsky can truly rest in peace.

SHAWN: There are two things in this world that you can really count on: taxes and vehicular manslaughter. Crime is the ultimate in interesting. Sure, sometimes it results in injury or your pants suddenly disappearing, but it’s more interesting than Rosie Live and only half as violent. What would Law & Order be without the first half of the episode? Order? Lame. It’s the destruction of order that keeps us interested. We wouldn’t even have cereal, as mascots teach us the only way to get it is by stealing it. As unfortunate an evil as it is, we need crime or we’d be bored to death—which also should be a crime.

RYAN: If you weren’t so busy trying to track down your missing pants, you’d have realized crime’s nothing without the punishment. What makes crime so much more interesting than Rosie Live (which is saying a lot) is the risk of jail time, court-mandated community service, or at the very least a hefty fine. Take away the punishment and every law turns into an empty threat, like when parents say they’re going to turn the car around or when my wife says she’s going to leave me. Neither of those carry any weight. If you want people to follow the rules, they need to know there will be repercussions for their actions. Otherwise it’d be anarchy. Anarchy, Shawn. Anarchy.

Sometimes empty threats do work.

SHAWN: Are we heading to chicken/egg territory now? Because nobody would’ve even invented punishment without a little crime thrown in. It wasn’t until somebody realized, “Hey, my shit got stolen and I’m not happy,” that we decided to lock people in a cell where they could become angrier and angrier until they kill the other guy in that cell. Which would you rather watch: a half-hour of a guy paying a judge, or a half-hour of The Joker breaking into a bank using every trick in the exciting book of crime? Criminals are the delicious butter in our white bread world. Plus, with crime, you have the added bonus of fighting back. Watching someone get tied down to be electrocuted to death doesn’t have the thrill of the hunt, the fear of getting caught, the ability to lay the smack down before it’s first laid down upon you.

RYAN: Well, thank you very much crime for forcing our hand and making us create punishment to deter people from stealing, killing, and littering. If it weren’t for you…well, frankly, I don’t want to imagine a world without crime. What a horrible place that would be. People walking the streets at night without knowing the thrill and excitement of thinking they could be raped at any minute. Old people living without fear of being snuffed out by their greedy, money-grubbing children. If you can even call that living. Which I don’t. Really, what’s the point of living when you’re not even worried about being held hostage in your own home by a gun-wielding madman who’s down on his luck? Thank God crime is as prevalent as it is so we don’t even have to consider such wild hypotheticals.

Is there a note? Did they leave a note??

SHAWN: Well, thank goodness punishment came along to solve all crime and create utopia. Nobody ever shatters car windows anymore: how could they possibly live with themselves after a “good talking to” and a slap on the wrist? If there’s one thing that deters and solves crime, it’s punishment—just ask O.J. And, admit it, your world without crime would be as eventful as Season 3 of Boohbah. Plus, I don’t think you have to worry about being raped, and don’t even bring up that time you were strutting around in those assless chaps. You were asking for it and that guy at the gas station just wanted a taste. These crimes you refer to don’t happen often and surely don’t destroy the fabric of this great country. Forcing every movie and newspaper to only talk about lilies and skipping in your little crimeless world, however; that’s just cruel and unusual.

RYAN: I’m going to give all the readers a minute to google “Boohbah” so they’ll pick up on your joke. Maybe next time don’t go with an obscure reference to a crappy children’s television show. Just remember, kids aren’t reading this unless they think it has something to do with the Jonas Brothers. Even then, they’re probably only looking at the pictures and then commenting on how sexy they all are. But I digress. Your argument against punishment is as flawed as your “he was asking for it” rape defense. Just because there’s still crime doesn’t mean punishment isn’t working as a deterrent. Sure, there are still a few bad apples and O.J.’s out there, but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve ignored my strongest desires to get my stab on (most notably right now) because of the surefire murder charges. Punishment may not stop all crime and create your “Boohbah” utopia, but at least it’s doing something. Crime’s not doing anything to stop crime. If anything, crime’s helping crime.

Next on Danger Queue: The Wright Brothers vs. Tia and Tamera Mowry—Brother Brother or Sister, Sister?

Happy Trees vs Happy Meals

The key to happiness: cheap food or amateur painting?

RYAN: Fact: Happy Meals are illogically awesome. For the bargain price of whatever they currently cost, you literally have unlimited options on what you can order. Cheeseburger, hamburger, chicken nuggets, cheeseburger. Anything. Throw in a side of fries (Don’t you dare get the Apple Dipper!) and a drink, and you can see why they’re called “Happy” meals. Oh, and also a toy. A FUCKING TOY!!! What’s that you say? What could possibly be better than that? Oh, I don’t know, how about a sweet cardboard box for said Happy Meal covered with games, puzzles, and pictures of all your favorite McDonald’s characters? Hungry yet? I know I am. And that’s the best part: Ronald is such a freakin’ smart clown he doesn’t bother putting an age limit on who can order off the kids’ menu (take a hint, Steak & Shake!). I ordered Happy Meals ’til I was 18. I only stopped after one cashier asked if I wanted the boy or the girl toy. I took the girl toy, but only out of spite.

SHAWN: Fiction: Trees have no feelings. As living creatures, God’s favorite creations (besides Fraggles) grow and live like you and I. And it took one brilliant man to identify how they feel about this state of being, and that was Bob Ross. Trees are happy, and walking by a happy tree, seeing its beauty and breathing in its fresh oxygen (thanks again, God)—well, there’s just no better feeling—unless, of course, you’re painting it in four seconds flat. Not even the feeling children get having their arteries clogged by a $2 meal that single-handedly injects 700 calories (sans apple dippers, as you suggest) straight into them can compete. And I believe there’s approximately 20 combinations of Happy Meals, not the unlimited options as you suggest. And, sure, some days you can choose to go home with your favorite Bratz toy, but in most cases you don’t even get an option with your toys: whatever big movie dishes out the most cash is what you get, so you may be spending the night with your new Misery Pez dispenser. You can hear the ankles shatter with every bite!

Another satisfied customer.

RYAN: Question: Why should I believe these trees are so happy? They don’t look very happy to me. They look like they’re all just standing there, bored out of their minds listening to that hippie Bob Ross drone on and on about the joy of whatever it was he did for a living. Happy Meals, though, there’s no doubting how happy they are. The smile on the box (and the smile in my stomach) tells me so. So what if McDonald’s likes to incorporate whatever hit film or fad is sweeping the nation into its Happy Meals? It’s called corporate synergy, and I don’t remember you complaining during the Teenie Beanie Baby promotion (I’m still looking for a McNuggets the Bear). Whatever the toy may be, it’s just part of the overall experience of the Happy Meal. Twenty options. Unlimited options. Let’s not get bogged down in numbers that prove me wrong. The point is, there’s a Happy Meal for everyone, no matter their tastes. And no, Shawn, vegetarians don’t count, so don’t even go there.

SHAWN: Answer: Because the trees don’t get winded walking from the kitchen to the dining room. Which isn’t the case with Fatty McDonald and his Happy Meals of disgust. And that Beanie Baby promotion (yeah, there’s a reason McNuggets wasn’t a chicken) doesn’t show corporate synergy, but sell-out-yness. McDonald’s knows its gross-ass food can’t stand on its own, but, hey, maybe if we slap a smile on the box and toss in a decoder ring, mildly retarded children and Ryan will still find them endlessly entertaining. It takes an intelligent, cool-as-a-cucumber hippie like Bob Ross to appreciate the subtle joy of trees. Sure, him and Ronald share the same hair-cut, but it works on a delightful hippie. Ronald just looks like that creepy guy who lives next door to you and keeps offering up candy if you “rub his feet”. And, fun fact, on one episode of The Joy of Painting, someone asked Ross why everything was so happy and he said, “If you want bad stuff, watch the news.” He couldn’t due to copyright law, but he totally meant to add “or eat a Happy Meal”.

RYAN: Theory: You grew up in a traveling circus since apparently you lived next door to a clown. A sexual predator clown, at that (Show me on McNuggets the Bear where he touched you!). And I’m guessing since you grew up as a carnie, your mom couldn’t afford the deliciousness that is a McDonald’s Happy Meal. Maybe you were stuck with the ill-fated Burger King Kids Club; I don’t know. But I do know that you’ve watched Super Size Me way too many times if you truly believe McDonald’s is “gross-ass food” that induces death. Surely we can’t be talking about the same place. McChickens? Double cheeseburgers? Not the McRib. Don’t you dare say that about the McRib! Maybe you should stop letting a bunch of small time never-will-bes like Bob Ross and Morgan Spurlock tell you what to think. And instead of looking for happiness in the bottom of the bottle, head to the nearest set of Golden Arches and give McDonald’s a chance. You’ll find a world of wonder and joy unlike anything you ever experienced growing up in that traveling circus of yours.

Those trees look more content than happy.

SHAWN: Truth: Take your fast food and shove it up your gelatinous ass. Wasn’t your whole argument founded on the idea that you get a lot in a Happy Meal for a “bargain price” (scroll up, it was) and now all of a sudden it’s too ritzy for a carnie? If Happy Meals aren’t for carnies, who are they for? Whether or not Happy Meals are having an identity crisis, I’m pretty sure the Burger King Kids Club meals were more expensive. Just because McDonald’s spends two billion dollars a year to make itself look good, doesn’t mean you need to fall for it and forget that the McRib is neither a rib nor Irish. Have you considered that perhaps the huge multinational conglomerate is the one telling you how to think? You know, rather than placing the blame on a guy whose TV ratings were a two. And not a Nielsen two: just me and whichever wife Mr. Ross was currently married to. Sure, you may think no one can beat McDonald’s, with its money and influence, but Bob Ross and his happy trees spread joy and calmness across the globe. Feel free to waste your life away, hopping off walls in the PlayPlace, even though parents keep giving you that face, stuffing fat and sugars into your body. The rest of us are gonna get baked and personify this here cupcake.

Next On Danger Queue: Crime vs Punishment—We’ll Take It From Here, Dostoevsky

Unicorns vs Fisting

Unicorns are swell, but fisting, well... need we say more?

SHAWN: Who doesn’t love a fine unicorn? Gorgeous white hair, all the rage and speed of a horse, cloven hooves, magic powers, pride, and of course a fucking horn that NEUTRALIZES POISON. Amazing. People have sought this mythical beast for years, equally encouraged by its beauty and mystery. Some of the world’s greatest art features its majesty—the tapestries, The Unicorn in Captivity, David. In many cases, it also flies, which as we recently discussed, is just a plain awesome as heck ability to have. Plus, it’s not a minotaur or a Bill O’Reilly or any of those other mythical beasts constructed to instill fear. The unicorn is one of the few creatures in existence built on love. What has fisting ever given us? Surely not a cure for poison. Surely.

RYAN: The real question is who doesn’t love having a fist up their vagina?

SHAWN: I concede the point.

Next On Danger Queue: Happy Trees vs Happy Meals—Smiles Are On Us

Fight vs Flight

Fight like a man or fly away like some kind of super man?

RYAN: I’ve seen my fair share of fights, and every time I think to myself “you’re doing it wrong”. See, despite no formal training or experience whatsoever, I’m kind of a self-proclaimed expert in fighting. Every now and again I’ll tune into UFC and well, let’s just say I’ve picked up a few moves. Now, combine that with all my natural, God-given talent and oh, man, you don’t want any of this. Now all you tough guys out there are probably asking how much I can bench and all that other garbage you like to brag about. Well guess what, suckers, I don’t waste my time and money on some gym when I’ve got everything I need right in my home. My workout routine consists of lifting chairs over my head, opening and closing doors really fast, and curling cans of soup before I eat them for dinner. And not those dainty Campbell’s condensed soup. I’m talking the real deal. The Campbell’s Fully Loaded. Those things probably weigh like 20 pounds each. Minimum. It sounds tough, and you’re right, it is. But it’s all worth it to keep my body in peak fighting condition. And just so I won’t even be tempted to run when things start going down, I don’t even bother doing any cardio workouts.

SHAWN: Maybe if you threw a couple minutes of cardio in there every day or two, you wouldn’t be a beer-bellied big-armed freak who can still wear his skinny pants. But I digress from an argument I haven’t started yet. Fighting may be all well and good, as my personal foray into the WWE has taught me, but you know what’s better? Flying. Fucking flying. Humans took years, even months, to develop a flying machine, after millennia of staring into the sky, wishing, praying they could be like the birds. And you know what? We still do that. With airline prices these days, who hasn’t stood on the top of their office building, arms outstretched, wishing, hoping they’ll take off into the clouds rather than getting tangled in the awning again? Although there is one human who mastered flight and we call him Superman. Yeah. Super. Without flight, he’d just be Batman, which is a bit of a misnomer it itself, as the man can only fight on the ground. Hell, when you run out of Campbell’s, don’t you just wish you could fly to the store? Yeah. You do.

Someone wants to fly, but he's scared of heights.

RYAN:The only people standing on top of their office buildings with arms outstretched are bankers and stock brokers, and I don’t think they’re trying to fly when they jump. See, even though it hasn’t been around that long, flying is already overrated. Security checks. Layovers. Aisle seats. Turbulence. Little tiny cans of Coke and Sprite. It’s just plain ridiculous. Thankfully, fighting is as timeless as it is awesome. Monkey knife fights. Pillow fights. Cripple fights. It doesn’t matter. They’re all cool as hell and amazingly fun to watch. That’s why the Romans built the Colosseum, and that’s why UFC, boxing, and even wrestling (for the record, trying out to be a WWE diva doesn’t count as a “foray”) are so popular. In high school, we’d randomly start chanting “Fight!” in the hallways to see all the people who would come running. The best part wasn’t laughing as they walked away; it was seeing the disappointment in their eyes as they realized there really wasn’t a fight. Even the mere hint of a fight gets people all riled up. When was the last time you got pumped up for flying? When you realized the in-flight movie was Last Holiday?

SHAWN: Thanks for not actually reading my argument, by the way; I really appreciate that. I agree that airplane flying is pricey and overrated, which is why Superman and I support ACTUAL FLIGHT—soaring through the sky like a strong eagle, swooping down to snatch up fish or babies, and then suddenly landing squarely in Hawaii fourteen minutes later. There’s a reason we invented skydiving; we crave flight and understand that, yeah, it’s pretty much the most awesome thing ever. And if you thought kids came running in high school when you chanted “fight”, imagine who would come running if suddenly a kid started flying? Like the mute kid in that movie you probably aren’t familiar with because it doesn’t involve people slapping the hell out of each other. Plus, flight would take fight to a new level. Imagine punching and cutting…in mid-air! How cool would that be? Yeah, flight is so superior a concept that those Romans long ago couldn’t even fathom how to make it happen. That’s why they built an arena and sat back and watched people kill each other. Even we realized that’s a little sick and rejigged the rules, calling it football.

Yes, we are entertained.

RYAN: Just to summarize, your argument for flight centers around skydiving, where people jump out of a plane and plummet straight to the ground—never actually flying—and how cool it’d be if people could actually fly? Unless you think we all live in the Matrix, I don’t think people flying will be happening anytime soon. And even if we did, I highly doubt you’re The One (Keanu’s way more man than you). But yeah, it would be cool if we could all fly. Oh, you know what else would be sweet? If we all had the ability to teleport anywhere we wanted. Or, what if we could all crap out gold bars? That’s be kickass. Oh, and know what else rocks? Unicorns and leprechauns and a mutant turkey-duck-chicken (what would we call it???). Flight may be a cool concept, but damn, here we are stuck in stupid reality, where none of those things exist. You go ahead and keep dreaming. I prefer to keep myself grounded in reality. A reality where I don’t have to imagine what’d it be like if people could fight. All I have to do is watch TV, see a movie, search online, or go to any public place and start shoving people (preferrably children) to the ground.

SHAWN: Fine. You know what? DON’T read my argument; I don’t even want you to. It’s easier this way. I’m not pro-skydiving; I’m just saying it’s one of the many ways us poor humans attempt to simulate, even for a second, the one hope and dream we all share: flight. And funny that the one man who once cherished his entire childhood because he was enamored with a Looney Tunes-ridden dream world would so openly reject fantasy. OHHHH, DID I JUST REFERENCE A PREVIOUS DANGER? Well, readers, I bet you thought that would never happen, but there you go. Besides, every time you get in one of those fights with children you either (a) lose, or (b) end up in prison again. Fantasizing about flying certainly doesn’t hurt other people and, when humans eventually evolve wings, your petty fighting will be deemed useless as escape would be simple for those poor, poor kids (even you, Little Tommy, whether or not Ryan apologizes). Besides, some of us have been out of high school for more than two months and don’t see fighting as a viable solution for all of life’s problems. Oh, but flight. No one’s too old for flight.

Next On Danger Queue: Unicorns vs. Fisting—What Do Women Really Want?

Full House vs Straight

Does a Full House beat a Straight if there's Three of a Kind?

SHAWN: Some people, when they look around, see a hopeless world of poverty and war. Others see a hand to hold on to. Everywhere they look. And that’s why the zany, lovable, utopian dilemmas of the Tanner family make Full House quite possibly the greatest invention since the four-slot toaster. What silly miswording will Michelle come up with today? How insecure will Stephanie feel? What will Danny clean? What STD will Uncle Jesse come down with? GIBBLER!!! We loved and knew these characters for eight seasons of joy. Some may call the Tanners’ resolve impossible, but I think they gave us hope and laughter like none other. Remember when Danny proposed to Vicky at DisneyWorld or when the girls illegally won on the Vegas slots? They may not be a “typical” family, but they’re part of all of ours. I like a world where any problem can be solved with a Bullwinkle impression. Carry me home, light; carry me home

RYAN: I think enough time has passed that we can throw back the curtain on Full House and expose it for what it really is: a gay rights vehicle to push the homosexual agenda down our throats along with who knows what else. Come on, a house full of three grown men? One who is an obsessive compulsive neat freak, another who’s alter-ego puppet loves “wood”, and the other with that fabulous head of hair. And, to top it off, they live in freakin’ San Fransisco. I don’t care how many children happened to live there or whose wife “died”, Danny, Joey, and Jesse were the Will & Grace of the late 80s/early 90s only without all the Emmy nominations. I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now. I prefer my leading men unambiguously straight. Thankfully, the good, God-fearing people of California got their act together and passed Proposition 8. Now, Danny, Joey, and Jesse and the rest of those scofflaws will have to take their sinful ways inland.

Damn that's one fine mane.

SHAWN: Clearly when all of us were watching Full House during the ’90s, you were watching The Full Monty. Rebecca Donaldson much? Ever heard of her? The token hottie? The one the guys all wanted to bone? How dare you use Full House to relay your discrimination and hate! There were three happy heterosexual men (two were step-brothers, for God’s sake) caring for three future lesbians in the city by the bay and there’s nothing wrong with that. Lest we forget San Fran also gave us Bruce Lee and Clint Eastwood. And I’m on the phone with Clint right now, telling him how you called him gay and, don’t worry, he has your address. You straight people are all the same: projecting your homophobia onto a perfectly family friendly show. But you know what? What if it WAS pro-gay rights? Maybe we all enjoyed eight years of the smartest, most progressive show ever to air on network television without even realizing it. Of course, that wasn’t the case; you’ve seen how Joey dresses.

RYAN: Danny, Joey, and Jesse may have been happy, but that’s most certainly because they were having so much fun being gay together. I can’t say I blame them. Their gay group dynamic is unparalleled. Between the three of them—Rebecca’s favorite spot—you’ve got all your bases covered. Looks (Jesse), laughs (Joey), length (Danny). But don’t you dare call that show family friendly. Family friendly shows don’t corrupt the morals of our youth by teaching them it’s okay to wear pants as tight as Uncle Jesse’s. Family friendly shows repsect the institution of marriage. If I want to watch a bunch of grown men hugging and touching each other, I’ll watch football. At least then I won’t have to explain anything to my non-existent kids. Oh, and I’m going to go ahead and take your “you straight people” comment out of context and lump you together with the rest of those San Franscisco treats. That includes you, Eastwood. What’s he going to do about it? Make Paint Your Wagon 2?

SHAWN: I’m not shocked that you obviously never made it to the end of Paint Your Wagon, what with you only needing about three minutes with it before you finished. But it ends with a bull and bear fight and a town collapsing (thanks, Wiki)—not nearly as homoerotic as your ass-smacking Monday Night Football. And which one of us was the first to mention Jesse’s tight pants and an “unparalleled gay group dymanic”? Uh… last I checked, you can’t call a potato an unparalleled vegetable unless you were pretty damn familiar with vegetables. And don’t dismiss your latent homosexuality because you’re married, as two of the men in what you consider a pornographic triumvirate were also married by the end of the show. Some of us watched Full House without staring at Jesse’s hair and ass, and understood the actual plot and laughed at the Tanner family’s antics. So have fun keeping your non-existent kids (someone seems to be having trouble procreating) away from every TV show imaginable because daddy can’t stop harboring feelings for John Stamos.

Football. A sport for the manliest of men.

RYAN: Sorry, I got a little confused with your last paragraph. There’s a lot of insults and innuendos that inaccurately paint me as a masturbating, sterile gay man—at least more than usual—but you never dispute that Full House is a show about three gay men. Looks like the last ditch attempt of someone who knows he’s about to lose. Attacking character instead addressing the issue at hand. Are you going to make an appearance on SNL too? It’s a nice try, but it won’t work. Americans are (finally) too smart for that. But if you’re one of the people who can watch Full House and enjoy the humor and plot, I applaud you for your ability to ignore the facts no matter how obvious they may be. The rest of us can’t just sit and watch Danny, Joey, and Jesse and their sinful ways. But hey, when the three of them go to hell for all eternity, maybe Jesse can convince the devil to “have mercy”.

Next On Danger Queue: Fight vs Flight—There’s A Reason They Invented Cock Fighting

Looney Tunes vs Surfak

Both Are Known For Fast-Paced Action.

RYAN: Growing up as an bright-eyed, undersized boy on the mean streets of suburban Chicago, I could always count on two things: myself and my Saturday morning Looney Tunes. Each and every week, you’d find me hunkered down in front of the television in my Candyland onesies, watching the hilarious antics of some of the most memorable cartoon characters the world will ever know. But in life, things change. I’m now a bright-eyed, undersized man. My television is high definition. And my onesies have duckies on them. But God bless them, those Looney Tunes are exactly the same. If only for 30 minutes, they provide an escape from the harsh realities of adulthood, where even the most remedial task of pooping can’t be taken for granted. I hope Surfak blesses you with the regularity you so desperately need. I’ll take the nonstop laughing and smiling courtesy of Bugs Bunny and friends.

SHAWN: Growing up as an anger-filled giant on the rough curbs of downtown Cleveland, I had a similar experience. Each and every week, I would get hunkered down on the toilet, ready for a mean poop. Some weeks, I’d do that every day. But the worst feeling in the world? Being all hunkered down with nothing to show. It’s like in 1993, when you sat down for Looney Tunes to find it cancelled and replaced with My Little Pony. Granted, a year later, you owned every edition of Glitter pony including Pinkie Pie, but the disappointment was there. Now imagine if there were a cure for pain like that? Sure as fact there is, and it’s called Surfak. Softening stool everywhere, Surfak turns the worst feeling in the world into the best. Farewell, blockage; hello, the rest of your life. For you, Looney Tunes may have been the cure for your crippling depression after a long week of being teased at school, you stupidhead; but for the rest of the world, there’s Surfak.

Shawn's toilet was mad at him for a long, long time.

RYAN: I’m not going to argue with Surfak’s results, mostly because I don’t want you going into that kind of detail. It’s the fact that Surfak even exists that gets me all worked up. Pooping is a sacred act that unites us all, from the highest thrones all the way down to the Clevelands of the world. Everybody poops. The satisfaction and relief that comes from a poop should never be compromised with performance enhancers of any sort. I don’t care what excuse you come up with. Just go eat some Taco Bell or Pizza Hut. Problem solved. You’re welcome. Maybe I’m a purist, but I know when Looney Tunes was off the air, I didn’t go huffing glue to get some cheap, drug-fueled laughs. No, I did what any other 9-year-old boy would do. I immersed myself in the dream world of My Little Pony. When Bugs, Daffy, Porky, Elmer, and the rest of the gang came back, I welcomed them with arms wide open. You know why? Because the laughs didn’t come from a box bought at the pharmacy. They came from good, clean, wholesome fun. Except, of course, for all those racist cartoons they made during WWII.

SHAWN: I do agree that everybody poops, as long as you don’t include Angelina Jolie, whose feces osmote through her skin in the form of flowers. But that’s exactly why we don’t want the whole population stuck (literally) with a crippling poop-related problem. Scenario: the whole Cabinet gets stopped up, stuck on the toilet, pounding tacos as you suggest, and TERRORIST ATTACK! Why? Because you didn’t want to solve their pesky predicament and they missed the intelligence that came in. You’re welcome, America; signed, Ryan. It’s not “performance enhancer” when it CREATES the performance. That’s like calling an appendectomy a performance-enhancing surgery. Sure there are other solutions—like death—but we have the technology to solve what ails you without consuming a 1200-calorie burrito or letting your appendix burst. Your solution of dream world immersion to deal with loss is the same problem that desensitizes children to the world, keeps us from making eye contact with strangers, and causing teens to drop bowling balls on passing highway cars because they saw Beavis & Butthead do it.

RYAN: Maybe the Cabinet should have been eating those delicious tacos at the first sign of blockage, like I suggested. Then, maybe they wouldn’t have been caught with their pants down when the terrorists came knocking on the door. Believe me, I want to solve that problem as much as the next guy, but that doesn’t mean we can flush our morals down the drain and do whatever we want to. Just because the technology exists doesn’t mean we should use it (that applies to you and your fake holograms too, Wolf). If you want to bulk up, do you go to the gym or do you go straight to the steroids and HGH? If you want to lose weight, do you diet or do you go straight for the liposuction? I know I for one prefer doing things the natural way. The way God intended it. That’s why I’ll always prefer Looney Tunes. They did things the right way. They didn’t need any fancy computers or technology to get the laughs. All they needed was a bunch of cartoon characters with various speech impediments and a cross-dressing bunny willing to do anything for a carrot. Any. Thing.

Sounds like he's got a lateral lisp.

SHAWN: I wish you had an opportunity to respond to this tight-knit argument, because I’m curious what you consider to be the first sign of blockage. Blockage perhaps? You’re either blocked or you’re not, and there’s a sure way to fix it and it’s not prayer. So feel free to sit there while your Million Dollar Baby remains a vegetable, but some of us believe in medical science and solving problems that we can. Sure, the same science gave us steroids and liposuction, but one of those is illegal and the other makes you look damn fine. Maybe I’m an optimistic shmuck but, for the most part, medical science has given us relief and life and hope and firm, perky breasts. And God gave us the know-how to do it. Besides, maybe if Chuck Jones would’ve been a stauncher proponent of stem cell research, he would’ve been able to cure those speech impediments. Looney Tunes was fun and cute at the time, but we’ve moved on. It’s time for change and, when we live in the age of Simpsons and Wall.e and intravenous catheter shields, Looney Tunes just doesn’t cut it. Especially with the price of anvils nowadays.

Next On Danger Queue: Full House vs Straight—When A Hug Just Won’t Cut It

Shawn’s Costume vs Ryan’s Costume

A horrible reality vs a far-fetched fantasy.

Brilliant. The one word that best describes everything Shawn and/or Ryan devises. So what happens when they go head-to-head on Halloween costumes? Well, it looks a bit like fisticuffs between Todd Palin and a 2008 Cubs World Series winner.

SHAWN: There are really only a few components that make for a phenomenal Halloween costume: (a) original, (2) topical, (d) funny, and (f) doesn’t win Worst Costume at your own Halloween party. That’s why my Todd Palin is far superior than Ryan’s Cubs World Series winner. My costume did not win Worst Costume at Ryan’s Halloween party, whereas Ryan’s did. At his own Halloween party. Surrounded by friends, some of whom are known Republicans and would therefore surely be stuffing the ballot box. Even they had to admit its crappiness. In fact, I was going to bring this point up at the end, my diamond in the rough, my hidden gem, but rather than going all William Ayers on Ryan, I’ll let him address this right up front. Summary: Todd Palin, didn’t win Worst Costume; Cubs victor, won Worst Costume.

RYAN: Here’s the thing about my friends: they’re idiots and I hate them all. My costume was pure genius and a big hit with everyone who was smart enough to read my shirt and realize I wasn’t just a baseball player. Maybe I underestimated the spite vote. Maybe I underestimated the number of people who didn’t know baseball (to quote a certain someone’s fiancé dressed as Sarah Palin: “Oh, did they win this year?”). But I do think you’re giving yourself a little too much credit for your Todd Palin. I’ll give you topical, but original? Like there weren’t really a million Todd Palins out there on Halloween? Really, you were just riding the coattails of your fiancé who is a dead ringer for Sarah Palin, winking and all, who came up with her costume idea months ago. What happened? Couldn’t think of a good idea on your own? Was the costume shop all sold out of Jonas Brothers wigs?

Shawn's first three costume ideas.

SHAWN: You, sir, clearly have good taste, what with your obvious endearing nature toward your friends. I wouldn’t necessarily assume a level of smarts was needed to understand your costume (“OHHHHH, it’s because they DIDN’T win the World Series!”); I think the disdain was more because of the level of boredom inherent in the costume. I mean, it was all t-shirt. Yeah, the t-shirt was funny and inaccurate, but you obviously finished off the rest of your costume with clothing you had lying around. The t-shirt would’ve been just as funny any other day of the year. Back to the keys of Halloween awesomeness: it has to be a real embodiment. Gone are the days of plastic masks of Lion-O with a smock that says “Thundercats” on it. Todd Palin was an embodiment. I haven’t shaved in 16 years and I went for the goatee. I unintentionally supported the NRA and McCain/Palin campaign by buying their goods. I wore flannel. Sure, it was a costume that worked better with a sexy lady at my side and an upside-down baby doll, but, hey, when it works, it works. And don’t play the “everybody’s doing it” card. There were plenty of Sarahs to go around, but it takes someone special to pull off the Todd.

RYAN: Clothing I had lying around? Last I checked I wasn’t wearing a pair of jeans and Skechers. Maybe if you weren’t so busy staring at my glorious chest (my eyes are up here), you would have noticed the subtleties of my costume—striped blue baseball pants, stirrups, cleats, and ski goggles for the ensuing locker room celebration—the subtleties that made my costume the full embodiment you like to brag so much about. At least when I went out and bought my stuff I wasn’t supporting a bunch of bitter people clinging to their guns or religion, which for the record I don’t know how you can call “unintentional”. I’m pretty sure you didn’t buy that NRA patch by accident. But shaving and flannel—wow, good for you. If that’s all it takes for a good costume, I would have gone as Rosie O’Donnell. Apparently it does take someone special to think of going as Todd Palin. Someone special like Lindsay Lohan’s lover/friend/muse/whatever you want to call her who had the EXACT SAME IDEA!!! So are you still going to say your costume was original and creative, or are you going with the whole “don’t play the “everybody’s doing it” card angle now? Just let me know which one you decide on.

SHAWN: Fine, they weren’t exactly “clothing you had lying around”, as you weren’t wearing your favorite leggings, sports bra, and Milex Wide Seal, but don’t pretend you didn’t have baseball pants and cleats from your days in the minors. And a $2 commitment to McCain/Palin for a hilariously awful button that garnered as many photos and laughs as Trig is totally worth it. Your shirt just opened up a can of sadness for Cubs fans. This season was a TRAGEDY and you dared to mock it. That’s like wearing a “9/11 didn’t happen” t-shirt on September 12, 2001. And, yes, shaving and flannel made my costume as I received compliments galore, none of which were “Hey, that’s the WORST COSTUME at this party”. Maybe you should’ve went with O’Donnell, even if it would’ve brought up those memories of you weeping nonstop for six months when she announced Caroline Rhea would take over her show. And, oh, I’m sorry that my costume made the news. Last I checked, CNN wasn’t running in-depth coverage on how Paris Hilton’s boyfriend Photoshopped the word “Cubs” on a “World Series Champions” logo. And, hell, Todd Palin is totally unique in that it is now irrelevant. Your Cubs shirt will be ironic and boring for years to come.

Ryan only wishes he could pull this look off. But that won't stop him from trying.

RYAN: Sadly, my baseball career ended in the 4th grade when I realized I sucked and couldn’t do anything except sit on the bench, which I did a lot. And poorly at that (I liked to stand). You’re way off base if you think my costume mocked Cubs fans. Seeing me, decked out in my Cubs getup with a World Series Champion shirt, inspired them to believe that it will soon become a reality. Sure, this year didn’t work out as planned, just like the other 99 before that. Luckily, there’s always next year. And the year after that. But, if only for one night, the Cubs were champions of baseball. Maybe if you weren’t so busy trying to breastfeed Trig, you would have heard all the people compliment me on my costume and say they wanted to buy my shirt. How many people wanted to buy your flannel shirt? Unless Richard Karn was there (he didn’t respond to the evite), then I suspect none. And don’t kid yourself, please. Your costume did not make the news. Some uncreative C-list celebrity who came up with the same idea weeks before you made the news. Out of spite, I voted to keep Todd Palin a big part of our lives for the next four years just to prove a point. I don’t know what point that was, but you better believe it was a good one.

Next on Danger Queue: Looney Tunes vs Surfak—The Better Choice for Fast-Paced Action

The Jolly Green Giant vs Brad Garrett

Our hearts are only big enough for one giant half-man.

RYAN: The Jolly Green Giant is one of the most recognizable figures in the world, and even I’m not convinced his appeal is limited to just this planet. With a delightful smile and a cheery “ho ho ho”, this friendly giant has encouraged generations of children to be healthy and eat their vegetables, whether it be peas, carrots, corn, or a flavorful orgy of all of them mixed together. He’s become a cultural icon. In blatant defiance to the first commandment, the town of Blue Earth, Minnesota erected a 55-foot-tall statue of the Jolly Green Giant that can be seen from I-90, causing countless car accidents and deaths as gawking motorists try to get a glimpse of the lovable character. How many car accidents has Brad Garrett caused? Only one. And that’s because he failed to check his blind spot while changing lanes.

Admittedly not the best angle.

SHAWN: You want a 55-foot tall friendly giant with a delightful smile? Then look no further than one Brad Garrett. Blessed with a voice deeper than the Marianas, Brad Garrett is a living example of what happens when children eat their vegetables (stuffed with growth hormones, of course). Who needs a very fake character to tell kids how to grow up when they have a mentor who can physically tell them and then have the words “The More You Know” pop up behind him (I’m not talking about the commercials here—he really has that power)? Plus, Garrett has the added bonus of hilarious self-deprication. When was the last time the Jolly Green Giant sighed and said, “Everybody loves Little Green Sprout”? That’s comedy gold as only Garrett, the Surly White Giant, can provide.

RYAN: The Jolly Green Giant never said “Everybody loves Little Green Sprout” because it’s obviously not true. The Jolly Green Giant is the lovable main character of Green Giant products. He’s got name recognition and people absolutely adore him. The Little Green Sprout is the unknown, annoying loser sidekick, much as Brad Garrett was to Ray Romano in Everybody Loves Raymond. That’s the problem with Brad Garrett, he’s great as a number two but he’ll never make it as a number one. Just look at his show on Fox. Actually, you don’t even need to (not that you even would have). Just look at the fact he has a show on Fox. Fox! I hope at least he’s got the prime time slot right after Hole in the Wall.

SHAWN: Fox may have Hole in the Wall, but it’s also the host of long-running shows like The Simpsons and, well, Brad Garrett’s Til Death, which—oh, look at that—has millions of viewers every week. How many people watch the Jolly Green Giant’s program? Oh, wait, he doesn’t have his own show, just a can of peas. Kudos? Besides, the Emmy-winning Everybody Loves Raymond ran nine seasons and dominated the ratings. Better number two in one of the “most critically acclaimed TV shows in history” than number one in “tunic-wearing giants who love shitty vegetables”. And, speaking of Emmys…well, lookie here, Garrett’s won not a-one, not a-two, not a-three, but a-THREE. And, as we discussed in our Oscar debate regarding The Godfather and TSOTTP, awards like that don’t just go to anyone.

Garrett was supposed to play 'Wilson' on Home Improvement until they realized he was too tall for the fence.

RYAN: I didn’t realize a season and half was enough to dub Brad Garrett’s show “long running”. So what is it called when something has been around since 1928, like the Jolly Green Giant? Longer running? Culturally significant? Memorable? Everything Brad Garrett hopes to be? But congrats to him for winning all those Emmys. He must have faced some tough competition with all those other amazing sitcoms out there—According to Jim, The George Lopez Show, King of Queens, and all those other great ones that I can’t name cause at the end of the day they’re all still shitty sitcoms. Plus, it’s not like they hand those out each and every year, or anything like that. No, people will always remember those Emmy winners. And for the record, despite what you think, putting quotes around something doesn’t make it true or more convincing. It just makes you look like a jackass that still somehow thinks The Godfather is better than The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

SHAWN: I’m not sure what culture you live in where a puppet who frightens children is “significant”, but all I know is those quotes work just fine (source: Wikipedia). And you can’t say he speaks to you personally, since last I checked you were neither jolly, green, nor a giant. Either way, at least Brad Garrett doesn’t march through the hills screaming “Ho ho ho!” like he has no goddamn idea that it’s not Christmas. And ‘Til Death is in it’s THIRD season, attracting millions of viewers a week, compared to the Green Giant statue’s pathetic 10,000 per year. Plus, if you knew anything about the Emmys besides thinking George Lopez is consistently snubbed, you’d know Garrett was actually often placed against good actors like David Hyde Pierce and Jeffrey Tambor. Yeah, he outdeveloped Arrested Development, a year it pretty much dominated every other category. So, please, go around mooching off of Santa—I’ll be busy rooting for the voice of Wizard Whitebeard on Where’s Waldo? Yeah, you can concede now.

Next on Danger Queue: Shawn’s Halloween Costume vs Ryan’s Halloween Costume—Whose Sexy Sarah Palin Is Best?

GOP vs OPP

When either one comes, damn skippy we're with it.

SHAWN: You down with GOP? No? Yeah, that’s right, nobody is. You guys are at your lowest approval rating in history, your spokespeople are douche bags, and you’re threatening my homies in Ohio (big holla!) with things like, oh, DEATH because you’re scared they’re smarter than the peons you think they are. On the other hand, you down with OPP? Hells yeah, you know me. How can I explain it? Well, I’d frame-by-frame it but I’d rather keep it short. O is for the Other and P is for the People and, well, the other P—that’s up to you. Except that it means Property. Unless you a lady, then it mean something quite different (five letters). But who doesn’t love other people’s property? We all desire it, we all like it, we’ve all been at parties where we got a number and then got a little mellow and—bam—she’s got a man. But you persevere. What’s your man got to do with me? That’s true spirt. Bust it.

RYAN: Hey, do you like to party? Meeting people, having some fun, maybe a few drinks, that whole deal. You like that, right? Well then do I have the party for you. It’s not your typical crap where someone strings some Christmas lights up in their condo in the middle of July and calls it a party. No, I’m talking huge house, multiple kegs, and maybe an anti-abortion rally just for hell of it. That’s right. I’m talking about the craziest party you can imagine. I’m talking about the Grand Old Party, or the GOP for all you acronym addicts out there. To put it frankly, when those rich, old bastards get involved, anything goes. ANYTHING. Constitution or no Constitution, they’re going to do whatever they damn well please. No worrying about the big mess they’ll have to clean up later (someone else will get to it) or any of the consequences of their actions. No, they’re only worried about the here and the now. Really, isn’t that what a party should be?

Let's get this party STARTED!

SHAWN: Don’t think your GOP is better than my OPP just because your argument is comprehensible. And I hope you have yourself a “Grand Old Party”, what with all the hard-core country music and 90-year-old white men dancing it up (they just learned that “Charleston” all the kids are doing) and sipping their aged gin and metamucils. Sure, they remember how wild that drink used to be, during prohibition, but we live in a time where that kinda party ain’t the party we need. We need a party that’s not naughty because you can afford strippers to kill; we need one that’s naughty by nature. Pot and abortions everywhere, drugs as far as the eye can see, and, of course, sex with whoever whenever. With the institutional standard of OPP, it doesn’t matter—swing, don’t swing, anything goes. Have fun partying with John McCain, Mike Duncan, Bill O’Reilly, Clifford Hansen, and Catherine Hicks. Yeah, sounds like a good time.

RYAN: Actually, I bet it would be awesome to party with O’Reilly. The man acts like an angry drunk when he’s stone sober and on national television. I can’t imagine what will happen when he actually is drunk and off camera. Angrier? Louder? The exact opposite? Who knows! That’s the fun of the GOP. You don’t know what’s going to happen next. What? That ultra-conservative Senator who adamantly opposes gays actually is gay? Only at the GOP! Just send him to a three-day seminar to fix that problem and let’s keep the party going. Making OPP an institutional standard like you foolishly suggest would destroy everything that’s good and pure in our nation. Don’t you see that the open-minded attitude of OPP is really just a thinly veiled socialist ideal? Sharing? Spreading the love? Please. The GOP knows that what’s yours is yours and you shouldn’t be forced to share. Not unless you can write it off later.

You're damn straight he did it live.

SHAWN: Okay, fine—I’ll give you that O’Reilly could be a crazy mofo, but have you noticed that whenever the GOP is spontaneous, it backfires? Sarah Palin. O’Reilly’s off-camera freak out. Privatizing banks. Voting with Bush 92% of the time. The time John McCain’s chest finally swallowed his head. It never ends well. With your luck, the party will end with a house on fire and a pile of shit to put it out. Granted, you might get $80 billion to rebuild the house, but then you don’t realize the fire has already set every other house in the country on fire and all the shit in the world won’t put it out. Plus, OPP is the least socialist idea around. Spreading herpes isn’t exactly spreading the wealth. OPP is all about you—if it were socialist, the owner of the property would be able to join in. In the writ of OPP, there’s no time for relationships, just time to hit it. In and out, like Iraq. That’s America. And I’m not sure if you noticed, GOP, but with most of you being 412 years old, you may have reaped the benefits of a little program called Social Security. Yeah, that’s what Lenin would do.

RYAN: Okay, you really want to know the truth? Do you? Here it is: The GOP is ALL about OPP. Seriously. They can’t get enough of it. Messing with other people’s property is all they can think about nowadays. It’s how they get off. But while you lowly small timers, with all your herpes and STDs, focus on just the same sinful act of screwing, the GOP has moved onto bigger and better ways of screwing people. I’m talking retirement funds, life savings, homes, jobs. If you’ve got something, then the GOP has spent the past eight years trying to get it. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s safe for them to bust out that “Mission Accomplished” banner again. Hang it with pride, GOP. Hang it with pride.

Next on Danger Queue: The Jolly Green Giant vs Brad Garrett—Which Genetic Mishaps Brings The Most Joy?