Posts Tagged ‘it’s satire people’

Always Be Covering, Especially In This Financial Climate

Friday, October 10th, 2008


Drew’s plan for economic revival has inspired by to go back to the classics. I don’t know you mystery woman, but I’d like to hang out and tax that bikini of yours.

I consider myself to be a young man of moderate intelligence, but I’m willing to admit that my knowledge in the field of economics is lacking. In fact, I’m pretty sure I got a 76 in econ at Pitt. But to be fair, I barely even went to class after midterms. I’m sorry, but the Cathedral of Learning is fuckin’ spooky when you’re high. One time I was sitting outside the building when I was approached by a guy who recognized me because he worked at the one thing bordering on a headshop in the area. He was on his way to a class taught by the professor on whom Michael Chabon based his iconic character, Grady Tripp. Oh I’m sorry, was I rambling?

“I could be wrong, but it sort of reads in places like you didn’t make any choices. At all. And I was just wondering if it might not be different if… if when you wrote you weren’t always… under the influence.”

Well… thank you for the thought, but shocking as it may sound, I am not the first writer to sip a little weed. Furthermore, it might surprise you to know that one post I wrote, as you say, “under the influence,” just happened to win a little something called the Pen Award. Which, by the way, I accepted under the influence.

My fault, I’m a little high. And I really want to fuck Hannah.

ON TO THE PICKS!
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A Situation Like This Calls For Some Serious Hyperbole!

Monday, September 29th, 2008

I’m not one of those reactionary Redskins fans, or one to go over the top in my reaction to a big win, but I think it’s about time we gas up the bandwagon and plan the trip to Tampa Bay. Continue after the jump for a clinical and reserved analysis of what we learned in yesterday’s win of the millennium at Dallas Stadium.

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EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY — The Bounty on Tony Kornheiser’s Car is Set at $75

Tuesday, September 16th, 2008

It has nothing to do with his unfunny and not particularly offensive remark about Hispanics last night. What it does have to do with is the fact that Tony Kornheiser has reached near-Theismann levels of putrescence in the MNF booth. Whereas his colleague Mike Tirico has developed into a pretty good commentator in the last two years, Kornheiser has gotten, if anything, more schmaltzy and adulatory of superstar players. And, worst of all, less funny.

Readers may wonder why we’re offering the bounty on his car and not he himself, especially after a “stalker” already made off with a car recently from his garage in D.C. (Only a stalker could find the keys he left lying next to the vehicle, of course). Well, Tony’s an old guy and any harm we would visit on his person may soon be inflicted by the ravages of age anyway. Besides, there’s a much easier way to keep him out of the booth: exploit his well-known fear of flying! That’s right. All you need to do is make off with Tony’s car and MNF will see a significant reduction of self-serious opening soliloquies and Favre references.

That said, I have no personal animus toward Tony. I’ve never met him despite the fact that we worked for the same massive blogger-terminating paper for three years. He did mispronounce my name on his radio show once though (rest assured, sending that fussy letter to him wasn’t my idea).

So if there are any more Bernard Pollards out there (though I suppose for this mission Niko Bellic may be more suitable) you stand to reap the reward of $75, no inconsiderable amount in these lean economic times. With it, you could buy:

- Three hardcover John Feinstein books!
- American Idol: The Best and Worst of Seasons 1-4 on DVD!
- An actual old radio for Old Guy Radio!
- A guy who can poorly mimic a British accent!
- Something Jewy!
- Three crab-filled entrees at Rehoboth Beach restaurant of your choice!

Your options are only limited by your imagination. That and obvious economic factors. We realize that with his considerable wealth, he could always get another car should this mission succeed. Then again, we never said this was a one-time offer. So get on it!

pic courtesy Midwesterner’s Guide to Living in New York

Matt Cassel Meets the Boss

Monday, September 8th, 2008

[Int. Coach Belichick's office]

Matt: Hey coach, thanks for calling me in for this chat, I figure there’s some things we need to talk about.

Bill: [mumbles incoherently]

Matt: Sir?

Bill: Have a seat.

Matt: Yes, sir. So what is it you wanted to discuss?

Bill: Enough dickin’ around. I gotta know right here and right now, are you ready to lead this team to the Super Bowl?

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KSK’s Fake Interview With Javon Walker

Wednesday, June 18th, 2008

Where the fuck did everybody go?

None of us at KSK are close personal friends with NFL players like the guys over at The Dirty, so we haven’t had the opportunity to speak directly to Javon Walker regarding his rather dubious story.

Until now!

Javon is out of the hospital and we’ve managed to secure the definitive interview.

KSK: Hey Javon, thanks for taking the time to answer some of our lingering questions.

JW: No problem, I just want to clear the air and get back to football.

KSK: So first off, where were you on at 5:30 Monday morning, and exactly what was it you were doing.

JW: See, I wasn’t out at the club like that pirate dude been sayin’, I was in my hotel room at Bellagio. I was sittin’ there doin’ my thing. You know, sippin’ some Earl Grey and goin’ over my new playbook with Squawk Box on in the background. I can’t start my day without a lil’ Becky Quick.

KSK: So what happened next.

JW: Well I hear this knock at my door, and I hear some voice sayin’ they got my room service. Now I know that’s some bullshit, because Consuela brought up my tea and a fresh melon a half hour before.

KSK: Honeydew or cantaloupe?

JW: Oh it’s gotta be honeydew. That’s the money melon.

KSK: Excellent, please continue.

JW: So I figure I’m dealin’ with some jokesters or some such nonsense and I tell ‘em I didn’t order shit. Then a couple minutes later there’s another knock and some guy out in the hall is sayin’ how he’s locked out of his room and he needs to call his girl to come meet up with him, cause she’s got the other key. I get up to take a look out the peephole and see these three shady lookin’ fools outside the door.

KSK: And you opened it?

JW: Not right away. First off I told him to take his ass down to the reception desk to get a new key, or at least call his woman from the lobby phone. But he says they ain’t helpin’ him out down there cause them’s some racist assholes. Well that’s some shit I can understand, so I tell this guy that he can come on in to use the phone, but his boys gotta stay out in the hall ’cause they was strapped.

KSK: But those armed men didn’t stay in the hallway as you insisted?

JW: No, they did not. I mean, what kind of world are we living in where people can just lie like that, flat out. I can’t stand these fuckin’ liars, man.

KSK: Yeah, lying is pretty weak. So what happened after you opened the door?

JW: Those lyin’ fuckers came through and cracked me in the head with one of them guns. Next thing I know I’m on the ground takin’ a beatin’ and I’m just tryin’ to protect my playbook. You know, I’m thinkin’ maybe these guys were sent by the Broncos or some shit.

KSK: So you weren’t involved in any sort of altercation with these men at the club the previous night?

JW: Nah man, we were just enjoying a slam poetry performance when a candle tipped over and started a fire. I happened to be celebrating Tiger’s eagle on 18 with some friends, so I took our champagne and doused the blaze before anyone could get hurt. I was like, a hero and shit.

KSK: Wow, what an incredible story!

JW: Right?

KSK: So getting back to the assault, what happened after you were knocked to the floor?

JW: Well I started swallowing pages of the playbook so that Mike Shanahan and his goons could never get their hands on it.

KSK: And what made you think that these men were sent by your former coach?

JW: I’ll answer your question with another question: Who else could possibly want to harm Javon Walker?

KSK: …

JW: Exactly! So I’m chewin’ up some hot routes and these guys are pawin’ at my wristwatch, but I figured they were after the book, so I resisted. Just then I feel a crack on the back of my head, and everything goes black.

KSK: That’s incredible.

JW: Yup. So I’m layin’ there unconscious and they hoist me up and start walkin’ me out into the hallway.

KSK: Hang on a second. How did you know they were carrying you down the hallway if you were unconscious?

JW: Because when I’m unconscious all my other senses go into, like, overdrive. You know what I’m sayin?

KSK: Not really, but please go on.

JW: So they’re draggin’ my ass into the elevator and down to the main level, but security doesn’t notice, because they got this string tied around my wrist to make it look like I’m wavin’ to all my fans. It was just like that movie.

KSK: Weekend At Bernies?

JW: Exactly! It was like some Weekend At Bernie’s type shit! But the first one, not that gay ass sequel.

KSK: Where did you go from there?

JW: Well they got me out of the building and into the parking garage. I was still unconscious, but my subconscious knew what was up. Then they toss me in the trunk of this Town Car and start driving off. At some point I woke up and thought to myself “Man, I need to get the fuck outta here before they deliver me to Shanahan.” So I pry open the trunk with some MacGyver type shit I found back there. I wasn’t sure if they noticed, so I didn’t even bother waiting for them to stop, I just jumped out of that bitch goin’ about 50 down the boulevard. When I landed I cracked my orbital shit on the curb, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital.

KSK: Holy shit, man!

JW: Right?

KSK: You’re a hero!

Brett Is Striving For a Cushier Career

Wednesday, March 5th, 2008

Yesterday ESPN’s Chris Mortensen reported (via voicemail) that Brett Favre is retiring due to his increasing mental fatigue.

“I know I can still play, but it’s like I told my wife, I’m just tired mentally. I’m just tired,”

What Mort didn’t go on to report is the subsequent conversation that took place when Mort got off of the shitter and checked his voicemail…

Hey Brett! Sorry I missed your call, I was knuckle deep in some serious mud butt.


Don’t you have journalists to do that for you?

Sadly, no. But hey, you mentioned something about retiring because you’re tired. What’s up with that?

You know, I’m just tired. I’m tired of reading the playbook, I’m tired of scouting opponents, and I’m tired of not getting to play with Moss.

I hear ya, Brett. Like I’ve always said, football is a thinking man’s game like chess. The pawns are the linemen, the rooks are the wideouts, the bishops are the tight ends, and the knights are the running backs. But the quarterback is like the king and the queen in one! The queen is your athletic side while the king is your brainy side. It must really have taken a toll over all these years.



Brett?


What the fuck is chess?


It’s like fancy checkers.

Chinese or domestic?

It doesn’t matter, your brain has had enough strain.

Hey, that rhymes!

It certainly does, Brett. So what are you going to do now that you’re retired?

I need a job that doesn’t require so much thinking and preparation.


Heck, you could come work in Bristol any time!


Nah, Berman creeps me out.


He’ll do that.


Hey, I know! Do you have Sean’s phone number?


Nope, I deleted it a while back. There was some…unpleasantness.

Damn. I sure would like to hitch my wagon to that Salisbury Brand he’s been talkin’ about. It’s like that guy gets paid to not think. What a great fuckin’ country.


God bless it.


Hell yeah! And fuck the French!


Yeah, and the blacks too!


What?!

[click]

Introducing Washington’s New Coach

Wednesday, January 16th, 2008

KSK has learned that the Washington Redskins have found their next head coach. We now go live to Ashburn, Virginia where a representative of Dan Snyder is preparing to reveal the identity of the new coach to the assembled media.


Tom: [visibly shaking] Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored and humbled to introduce you to the greatest being that I’ve ever had the pleasure of worshiping. The new Head Coach, Vice President of Football Operations, General Manager, and Spiritual Leader of the Washington Redskins, L. RON HUBBARD! [faints]


L-Ron: [swallows a bottle of pills with a swig of rum] That’s right, it’s me, L. Ron Hubbard, the greatest mind of this, the last, or any future century. After conquering the world through religion and mastering dozens of lesser pursuits I’ve decided to return to public life by conquering the NFC East. There are going to be a lot of changes around here. For starters, I’ve eliminated the threat of squirreling by sending Vinny Cerrato off for some RPF. Additionally, I have replaced Gregg Williams with my associate David Miscavige while I will personally take over the offense from Al Saunders. Both coaches have been sent to an undisclosed location for purifs. I assure you that as leader of the offensive pursuit I will keep Xenu contained within his electric mountain trap.

Tom: Mr. Hubbard will now honor the local media by listening to their questions.

Maske: What was all that about containing Xenu?

L-Ron: Did I say Xenu? I meant the Dallas pass rush.

Arch: What is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Cruise?

L-Ron: He’s a favorite pet of mine. He’s like the Jean Grey to my Christmas Ape, right down to the bite marks.


George: Mr. Hubbard, aren’t you dead?


L-Ron: Aren’t you?


George: Touché. [vanishes]


Steinz: Do you have a favorite gouda?


L-Ron: It’s all gouda with me, my man.


Steinz: That’s it, I love this guy.


Bram: I’m Bram Weinstein!



L-Ron: And we’re all very happy for you.


La Canfora: I’d like to go on record as saying that this is a terrible hire by a pathetic franchise with an incompetent owner.


L-Ron: When’s the last time you had your thetans checked?


La Canfora: What qualifies you for this job?

L-Ron: Hell, I’ve been circling Africa in my boat for nearly twenty-two years surviving on nothing but rum, uppers, downers, moldy wild mushrooms, and the occasional injection in my ass, so I’ve had a lot of time to prepare for this new turn in my life.


La Canfora: That’s all well and good, but how does that make you any more competent than Joe Gibbs?

L-Ron: I can assure you of my success because I have already discovered it within myself. If that doesn’t satisfy your readers than I’m not sure what kind of simpletons are reading Redskins Insider.


La Canfora: You have no idea.


Thom: Thom Loverro, Washington Ti … [inaudible squeaking] … [dogs howling in the distance]


Howard: Why does everybody at ESPN think I’m gay?


Andy: Why aren’t I more popular?


Maske: Ex-


L-Ron: HEY! Let’s get the focus back up on me where it belongs.

Tony: [exasperated] What am I doing here? I haven’t been to a press conference since the first Bush/Gibbs administration! Can somebody push back my reservation at the Palm? Ask for Tommy!


Maske: Excuse me Mr. Hubbard I have an important ques-


Wilbon: Is this being televised? [into cellphone] Wanda, I don’t see any cameras here!


Wise: You guys all need to mellow out. Back in Hawaii things were so much more chill.


Czabe (via text): Do you think it would be better for the team if you were to step aside?


Les: WHO WANTS A PIECE OF THE CARP?!


L-Ron: [whispering to Tom Cruise] These guys are fuckin’ daffy!

Tom: [shouting to L-Ron] How many more levels do I have to buy my way through before I get to touch you?!


Jim Vance: Ain’t this some shit?

It Would Be Funny If He Didn’t Really Mean It

Tuesday, December 11th, 2007

Oh Roddy, you are very very stupid. Mike Vick lied about slaughtering a bunch of dogs. Then he sort of admitted it. Then he lied about it again…on a polygraph. The guy plead to jail and that’s where he belongs for now. Everybody knows this, even Mike fucking Vick knows this! All of this escaped Roddy, but this is nothing new. You should see the rest of Roddy’s opinionated T-shirt collection!

Repeal Free Speech

End Suffrage Now!

George Wallace Was Right

More Land Mines

Give Eugenics a Chance

Cats Rule

Stalin Was Misunderstood

My Other T-Shirt Is Covered In Dog Blood

This Shirt Was Tested On Animals

Fur Is Murder…On My Bankroll

Vote For Pedro Lopez

Nixon ‘72

Andrea Yates Is My Homegirl

I Donate Dogs to Kill Shelters

Finishing What Barker Started

Imprison Tibet

Roddy, you must realize that Vick is not Nelson Mandela or Rubin Carter. His imprisonment is, you know, justified.

Check out our friend Chris Mottram’s take over at his new digs, The Sporting Blogs.

ESPN’s Director of NFL Programming Addresses the On-Screen Talent

Monday, April 2nd, 2007

Hey guys, thanks for making it out. I know you’re all busy, and — what the fuck are you doing here, Ley? Don’t you have an Outside the Lines or the 4:00 a.m. SportsCenter to tape? This meeting is for NFL personnel ONLY. Beat it!

[waits]

[under breath] Douchebag!

Okay, sorry about that. Anyway, as we’re ramping up for our non-stop draft coverage, I wanted to go over some changes in network policy that have been made to correct some stuff we’ve had problems with in the past.

To be specific, I’m talking about Sean’s little incident. No, not the photo of the “Salisbury Steak.” The Jew thing. Listen, everyone knows it was just a slip of the tongue, but we’re going to try to eliminate the possibility for that to happen again. That’s why I’m going over the revised list of banned words. We don’t want to piss off the Jews again — they control the media, right? I kid, I kid. I really shouldn’t make that joke, even if that Jew bastard Eisner is gone.

What are you looking at me that way for? I said chew bastard,” ha ha.

Anyway, here are the words you can no longer use on air:

Section A: Jews


1. “Chew” — This one’s obvious, but we gotta make it official. Don’t say “chews up yardage,” say “eats up yardage.” Or “masticates.” If it helps, think back to the holiday party when Berman ate two yards of that super long-ass deli sandwich. Oh, just kidding, Chris. We all know you only ate four feet of it.

2. “Choose” — Same reason. Instead, say “select.”

3. “Shoe” and “shoes” — Since we’re talking about the NFL, say “cleats.” If you talk about a player’s shoes off the field, use “sneakers.” If you’re black and hosting SportsCenter, you may call them “kicks.”

4. “Juice” — We’re still working on this one. Stick with “sports drink” or “OJ” for now. If you get nervous, just call it “Gatorade.” Don’t worry about it being incorrect — worry about the backlash from the goddam Chosen People if that “S” sound comes out as a Z.

Other: Address Mel only as “Mel” or the full “Mel Kiper Jr.” I’ve heard some of you call him “Kipe” around the studio, and that could go REALLY wrong… when talking about our departed experts Joe Theismann and Michael Irvin, we prefer that you call them “asses.” Trying to tone it down by saying “heinie” could backfire… I’m SO glad we didn’t hire Shannon Sharpe — he always says “heeb” instead of “he’s”…

Section B: African-Americans


1. “Cone” — Thank God the NFL uses pylons.

2. “Niggling” — To my knowledge, this has never been used on air, but I’m pretty sure we’d get complaints. What’s that? Yes, go ahead, Mr. Schlereth…

No, that’s not a dumb question. Niggling means trivial or inconsequential… Yes, like John Clayton. But now that you know a new word, don’t go using it on-air.

3. “Niggardly” — This is another one we can’t — yes, Mark?… Another good question. A niggard is someone who’s reluctant to give or spend… ha, ha! Yes, like the Jews! Good one, Boomer. Wait, aren’t YOU Jewish? Stop being such an Uncle Shlomo.

Anyway, we’ve had some fun with this one, but don’t EVER call a Jew a niggard on the air. Holy hell that would be the worst situation imaginable.

Section C: Asians


1. “Chap” — The Japanese are a proud people with a heritage of dignity, and the term used throughout World War II is extremely derogatory. And it’s even worse when you call a non-Japanese Asian a — ahem — “chap.” I tell ya, those… “kooks” can be really thin-skinned.

2. Yeah, “kooks” is on the list too.

3. “Glucose”

4. “Slopes” — We got some complaints during last year’s draft when we discussed Jeremy Bloom’s skiing career.

Other: If you interview Scott Fujita, and he’s wearing a hat, do NOT make the mistake of calling it a “chapeau.”

Section D: Hispanics


1. “Spic and span” — If it’s clean, just say it’s “clean.” Don’t try to dress it up.

2. “Carabiner” — I’m pretty sure there aren’t any rock-climbing enthusiasts in the NFL, so we should be good here.

Other: If a steady rain has created a sodden end zone, do NOT say that it’s “really wet back there.”

Section E: Caucasians


1. “Honking” — This especially goes for any description of post-game traffic in Jacksonville.

2. “Firecracker” — People might think you want Bill Simmons to resign. If Page 2 loses him, the dot-com is royally fucked.

3. “Sauerkraut” — Don’t want people to think that’s two words, you know? Say that in the same sentence you’re talking about some Boxhead Fritz, and you’ll never hear the end of it.

Other: Do not refer to any team’s star player as “the Man”… Boomer, we love you, but no more yelling “WOP!” when a player makes a great juke… Italian-Americans get their greasy ire up when you say that a “day goes by”…

Section F: Other Ethnicities


1. Out of respect to our Arab fanbase, we ask that you not say that any defense looks “ragged” at the end of the game.

2. Likewise, for our Filipino fans, we can no longer use the term “coin flip.” Please, use “coin toss” instead.

3. Just to play it safe, the team from Washington, D.C. should be called the “Native Americans.”

…Phew. Okay, I hope that clears things up. I’ll have that foxy blonde Nancy from personnel circulate a copy of this. Be sure to squeeze her ass when she stops by your office. I swear that thing is made out of titanium.

Questions?

Why Are All These Quarterbacks So Gay? A Definitive Guide

Friday, February 23rd, 2007

Man, why are all these quarterbacks so gay? I don’t understand how football can pretend it’s the manliest of sports with the most homophobic locker rooms when every team is led by a flaming homosexual.

Peyton Manning. Queer. Yeah, he’s married, but how many kids does he have? Zero, because he only has sex with dudes. Check this out: he once appeared onstage to sing with Kenny Chesney. And we all know singing is gay.

Don’t get me started on Jeff Garcia. This guy is so gay he had to get engaged to the 2004 Playmate of the Year, Carmella DeCesare. What a crock. Why would a coveted nude pinup deign to marry a wealthy professional athlete? It just doesn’t make sense. Everyone knows that a good beard is proportional in fame and hotness to the gay man she moonlights for. It’s why Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are such a joke, and why Tom Brady has most of America fooled.

Besides, Terrell Owens insinuated he was gay. If we can’t trust T.O., who can we trust?

Speaking of Tom Brady

Just look at him. Oh, sure, he’s “dating” Gisele. Wink, wink. Are we really supposed to believe that he impregnated Bridget Moynahan? Get real. She’s old and he’s gay. How do I know? Well, for starters, he’s good-looking and dresses well. That’s fucking queer. Plus he was photographed holding a goat. And anyone photographed with a farm animal automatically likes bestiality, which is the same thing as being gay.

The evidence is just overwhelming. I can’t believe more people don’t realize it.

Donovan McNabb. Disliked by Rush Limbaugh; in commercials with his mother. Gay.

Chris Simms. Too easy. Next.

Tony Romo. Dimpled, attractive, youthful face = obviously gay. His public announcements of crushes on blonde pop starlets Jessica Simpson and Carrie Underwood were painfully contrived. Why? Because his favorite blond is Chris Simms. Did I just make that up? Probably.

Trent Green, Mark Brunell and Kurt Warner are all devoutly Christian, and we all know devoutly Christian = closet case. Well, except for Warner. There’s nothing closeted about marrying a man.

Matt Leinart actually might not be gay, but now that he’s slept with Paris Hilton, he’s at least got the gay diseases.

People seem to think Rex Grossman has a way with the ladies, and they give him a lot of credit for being the Sex Cannon. More like the Butt Sex Cannon. Have you seen his eyebrows? That shit gets waxed twice a week, and tweezed daily. He’s a three-dollar bill, my friends. A three-dollar bill.

Alex Smith. Women find him atractive. Thus, he is gay. (See also: David Carr, Philip Rivers)

My favorite gay quarterback is Matt Hasselbeck. He did a pretty good job of pretending he was straight for a long time, having a wife who gave birth a couple times to babies that he allegedly donated his sperm to. But then he took this picture:

And it is obvious, conclusive evidence that Matt Hasselbeck likes sex with men. It was probably his idea for him and Trent Dilfer (also gay) to take their shirts off. Also: black and white photography is gay.

J.P. Losman. Long hair. Loses a lot. Gay and gay.

Eli Manning was clearly sexually abused by his older brother. Hence his closeted self-loathing is taken out on the football field (where he is timid and cowardly) and in karaoke bars (where he is fabulous).

Michael Vick. NOT gay. Also: not really a quarterback. QED.

Joey Harrington plays the piano. See also: Elton John; Liberace.

Brett Favre has a long-running secret affair with columnist Peter King; Chad Pennington feathers his hair; Vince Young is a top; Brad Johnson is a bottom; Aaron Brooks is a queen; Ben Roethlisberger is a bear; Marc Bulger likes hard cock so much, he changed his last name to Bulger; Jay Cutler’s mother cuts his hair [EDIT: see also Carson Palmer]; Byron Leftwich pretends to be injured just so his big, strong teammates will carry him downfield; Daunte Culpepper moved to Miami for the lifestyle opportunities in South Beach; Charlie Frye throws like a girl; Jake Delhomme is willing to try anything; Steve McNair actually uses Nair; and Drew Brees… hmm… I got nothin’ on him. I guess he’s the exception that proves the rule.

Gay, gay, gay, and gay. So there, John Amaechi. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it. You know, figuratively.

*Not included: Jon Kitna. I think he’s some kind of asexual alien.