During the awards show this past weekend, there was a special category for “Worst Performance by Bruce Willis in a 2021 Movie.” He appeared in eight low-budget films last year and he was nominated for all of them, ultimately “winning” for Cosmic Sin.

“After much thought and consideration, the Razzies have made the decision to rescind the Razzie Award given to Bruce Willis, due to his recently disclosed diagnosis. If someone’s medical condition is a factor in their decision making and/or their performance, we acknowledge that it is not appropriate to give them a Razzie.”

In other words, “Yes, we noticed that his acting sucked, and was therefore Razzie-worthy, but we now realized he cheated to win that award. Using a brain disorder to suck at acting is the equivalent of using steroids to hit home runs.”

I can’t really agree with their decision. It’s seems to me that all really bad actors have a brain disorder, the symptom of which … is bad acting. Consider Nic Cage, Tom Green, Steven Segal, OJ Simpson – even the greatest bad actor of them all, our own muse, the great Bill Shatner. All of those guys have a few splinters in the windmills of their minds.

OK, you caught me. Roger Moore is an exception.

“Mexico to rent out presidential jet for weddings, parties.”

It sounds weirdly “third world” on the surface, but it’s pretty much the same thing Clinton used to do with the Lincoln Bedroom.

Oh, now that I think about it, my initial impression was right. Both situations sound weirdly third world, but the Clinton thing never really bothered me because I can still remember when JFK installed the mirrored ceiling and the red velvet drapes in the Oval Office, and my dad always talked about when Warren Harding jump-started the roaring twenties by installing an opium den in the library, which was a frequent stop made by visitors after they selected a hooker in the entrance hall.

And don’t even ask about James Buchanan.

“After Frances committed her horrible crimes, she cackled, shot several bullets into the ceiling, and then calmly walked up to the stage covered in blood to accept her award. We at the Academy swore we would never let a day like that ever happen again, but now that Will Smith has slapped Chris Rock, we fear those dark days have returned.”

At press time, the Academy refused to answer questions about why Frances McDormand’s Oscar had not been revoked despite the fact that she then used it to fatally bludgeon several security officers.

Per The Onion: The testers say that the questions on wine-tasting and yacht ownership simply test common knowledge and predict success in life.

“We’ve repeatedly seen that the ability to sip a grenache and detect notes of black cherries or star anise strongly correlates to success in university settings and beyond.”

“Anyone looking to enter higher education should be prepared to show basic reading and mathematical skills, as well as identify the difference between a 1990 and 1993 Vernaccia di San Gimignano.””

Rich Eisen knows more about football than I will ever know, but he may have forgotten Bud Wilkinson, who took over the Cardinals when Don Coryell split for San Diego. Wilkinson was so disappointing that he was dumped in the middle of season two of a guaranteed four-year contract. They were happy to pay him NOT to coach.

The Bleacher Report considered this matter and only considered Wilkinson the 9th-worst. Their choice: Marty Mornhinweg

I think we will be fine celebrating Giant Pink Japanese Penis Day quietly by ourselves.

Hemingway once wrote, “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.” The same is true of Giant Pink Japanese Penis Day. Oh, sure, this year we will miss the Giant Pink Japanese Penis Carols, and the crazy students will miss their chance to participate in the traditional Running of the Dicks, but the real Giant Pink Japanese Penis is inside all of us.

So to speak.

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Welcome to the year 91.

Different people reckon the start of the new year with different methods, and have varying ways to calculate how many there have been. At the end of September in our calendar, the Jewish community will welcome the year 5783. The Chinese just celebrated the beginning of 4719. In a site dedicated to crap, we have no choice but to count the birth of William Shatner as the beginning of time (or at least any time worth living in), so today is the beginning of the year 91 A.S. (Anno Shatner).

Referencing the great day to the common calendar, the day known to most of the world as March 22, 1931 was the greatest day in history, for it marked the birth of the promised one … the golden child … the chosen one. Know him. Embrace him. For as surely as crapped is the past tense of crap, Shat is the past tense of shit.

So happy birthday to the greatest Canadian in history. Oh, why limit it to Canadians? He is probably the single greatest human being in the history of our species, possibly excepting the anonymous inventor of the wheel, and of course Bobby Troup.

On this most sacred of holidays, let us recall a Shatmas past, and the joy of celebrating it with our family and our loved ones. (May they never meet.)

Stay crappy, Bill. You have already lived long and prospered, so just keep up the … er … good work.

This week’s edition posts tomorrow (Wednesday) at 5:00 Eastern.

One of this week’s, the best one really, was created by a reader. If you would like to add some of your own, you can’t post them directly, since people would miss them in the comments section, but I think you know how to find me. If you have an idea but no photo editing skills, you can submit that as well. I can probably finish the job.

Or not.