I’ve been saving the gay draft for a rainy day. And, since it’s rained for 3,490 consecutive days now, it seems like it’s about time. I’m assuming many of you will elect to not participate in this draft, and that’s okay. Because the reason I’m posting the gay draft today is to tell you this story:

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In this week’s draft, you’re choosing the funniest still images on the Internet.  Photographs, LOL images, and Photoshops (like this one — hee hee!) are all fair game; the only restrictions are no animated .gifs and nothing NSFW.

In your comment, please leave a brief description of the picture and a link; we hope that will minimize careless repeats.  After the jump comes my #1 pick; after your choice, please wait ten picks before selecting again.

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I attended two colleges: University of Michigan (for a single semester) and Colby College (for the rest). I had a decent time at school, but I wouldn’t say college was the mass baby oil orgy I had been promised in the brochure. We can’t all attend HOLY FACKIN’ CRAWSS, you know.

To that end, let’s have a do-over. You’re picking your dream college this week. Maybe it’s one you wish you had gone to. Maybe it’s one you hope to go to in the near future. Regardless, I suggest you follow Bill Simmons’ advice and forsake academic pedigree for favorable climate and above average female talent. My pick? U. Florida.

/looks at above picture

Yep, I made a terrible, terrible mistake in real life. Yours in the comments. Pick a school. REAL COLLEGES ONLY. Please wait 10 picks before picking again.

Inspiration on occasion strikes, lightning in a bottle-like, those utterly devoid of talent and/or shame. Even repugnant hacks who spew hackneyed product designed for mass consumption strike gold once in a while on something that is both an artistic and commercial success. These works are as frustrating as they are rewarding, coming as they do from people who stumbled upon greatness, almost despite what they set out to do. Or maybe they just generally suck and got lucky. It’s a reminder of the capricious nature of inspiration in art. And it’s these fluky works of greatness that spring from the seed of fuckwittery that you are identifying in this draft. You’re looking for a memorably good movie, song, album, performance, book, painting, etc. from an otherwise lackluster or forgettable body of work.

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For this weeks’ commenter draft we’re delving back into the world of film. Your job is to draft bad scenes that you would excise from otherwise awesome movies. We’ll start things off for you with Drew’s suggested pick, Butch and Fabienne’s bedroom scene from Pulp Fiction.

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This week’s commenter draft is expensive items that should cost only $5.  The only caveat: your picks must be ACTUAL items that people buy.  No picking abstract things, such as stocks or companies or football teams.  As always, pick once, then wait ten picks before selecting again.

I’ll kick things off with this:

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Being out in L.A. covering the 20th anniversary Madden release stuff drummed up some gamer nostalgia, and not just for league-license-monopolistic sports titles. I still buy anywhere from five to 10 games a year but a busy schedule of dick joke writing keeps my playing time limited to three to five hours or so a week. There’s a certain wistfulness for the days in middle school when I could devote 40 hours over a couple of days to beating Final Fantasy III or Chrono Trigger. I’ve put that much time over the last four months into Grand Theft Auto 4 and am only about 54 percent completed with the main storyline. It’s great and all, but fuck me in the pants that’s a long game.

The one negative offshoot of the refinement of console games is that there’s no impetus to make decent arcade games anymore. That’s a shame, because arcades are shitloads of fun. Where else can you get your ass kicked for beating someone at Police Trainer?

You’re open to pick any game for any system. Or an arcade game. Fuck, pick a pinball game. I don’t care. Just don’t pick any goddamn PC games, you Warcraft-playing mutants. And picking Guitar Hero is just gonna get you called a fag.

My pick: Maniac Mansion (NES)

Kind of an obscure one, but I never get tired of playing through it. The overarching plot isn’t all that involved – a girl gets kidnapped and a group of friends try to rescue her. But it has something very few games of the era have – humor, characters and character development. Moreover, it’s a pretty funny and complex game with multiple endings that doesn’t gives its clues away easily (as opposed to, say, Zelda games where you got a little fucking sprite yelling at you if you pass something of interest). Back when this came out, this was all pretty novel for a console game and it still holds up well now.

I get legitimately angry when people enjoy something in pop culture that I myself cannot tolerate. The idea that there are people out there who like “Sex And The City,” and that they are quite legion in number, makes me want to abandon this planet for Rigel 7 posthaste. And the fact that some people find System of a Down’s music appealing makes me want to chug a bottle of Fantastik.

This is a very irrational reaction on my part. If everyone on Earth liked everything everyone else did, the world would be a pretty lousy place to live. And yet, I’m possessed with the ridiculous desire to persuade everyone to like the things I like (“Listen to this Sugar album. FUCKING LISTEN TO IT!”), and to hate the things I hate (“What do you mean, you liked Magnolia? What are you, a fucking asshole? Let me explain to you why your feelings are unnatural and wrong.”).

This is nothing more than insecurity. If you like something, you like it. If no one else does, big fucking deal, right? What does it matter? Well, it doesn’t. It really doesn’t. Unless you don’t like the movie “Tombstone”, in which case I have no fucking idea what’s wrong with you. You should be deported, you little shit. You know nothing about fine art.

With that in mind, this week’s draft is movies you hated that everyone else liked. The movie you pick has to have received an imdb rating higher than five stars. If you’re all like, “Boy, I really hated Catwoman. What’s wrong with people?” you’re a fucking moron. Pick one movie. Be sure to explain the depths of your hatred. The movie you pick will instantly be reviled by the rest of the population, conforming to your desires. YOU MUST WAIT 10 PICKS UNTIL YOU PICK ANOTHER MOVIE.

My pick? Fucking “Almost Famous”. What a fucking piece of shit this movie was. A fucking “Tiny Dancer” singalong? Groupies with hearts of gold? Fuck you and your overly earnest bullshit, Cameron Crowe. Oooh, music is so special! Hey, thanks for the tip.

Congrats, jackass. You made the least rocking rock movie of all time. And you helped start Kate Hudson’s career. I’ll never forgive you for either transgression.

Holy fuck, I am seriously hungover. Of course that’s what happens when you drag your lazy ass off the couch to attend a friend’s birthday party on a weeknight. So what could have possessed me to do such a thing? Was it my affection for the birthday girl or the two hours of open bar featuring all of my favorite top shelf liquor, beer, and champagne? Fuck no, it’s all about the possibility for those delicious little hors d’oeuvres.

So today, while I’m burping up a delightful combination of Hendricks, Macallan, and Veuve at my desk, I’m still regretting that one last fried risotto ball I missed out on. Dear god those fuckers were tasty.

Any party can, and should, be judged by the quality of the hors d’oeuvres. Hell, I can still rank every Bar Mitzvah I ever attended on the quality of their (kosher) pigs in a blanket.

Today your task as commenters is to select the best and the brightest of delectable shrunken foodstuffs. With the first selection, I’ll be helping myself to a tray of mini latkes topped with crème fraîche and caviar. I am not joking in the least when I tell you that I could eat those little fuckers by the hundred, and if I have to prove it, I will do so happily.

The rules are the same as always, you draft one hors d’oeuvres at a time (no napkin stacking here, fatty) and wait at least ten picks before you select again.

Take it away, I’m going to reload on some mate to keep me from passing out on my keyboard.

There have been times when I’ve wanted my own entrance music. Whether I was walking into a party, running to jump in a swimming pool, or barrelling into a teenager’s vagina, I would have appreciated a signature tune being played over the loudspeaker beforehand, just to let everyone know I was en route.

Your mission today is to choose your own entrance music. This music will be played everywhere you go. It will be your Hail To The Chief, if you will. Every good hero should have some theme music. So sayeth Keenan Ivory Wayans.

My music will be Redman’s Time For Some Action, as heard in this highlight reel:

I don’t care whether it’s 1990-muthafuckin-2 or not.

You know the rules. Get to it.