dailyastorian.com (Carey L.) – Chunk seems to be doing well for himself as an attorney, but let's pretend for a second that he became a highly successful actor who could never escape his breakthrough character. The question is this: would you take fame and fortune if it meant being eternally known for the Truffle Shuffle? If ten-thousand college football fans still baited you into an impromptu performance a decade later? In the words of Lieutenant Commander Jester, "I don't know. I just don't know."

yahoo.com – Just because I don't get the whole metrosexual phenomenon doesn't mean that I'm intolerant of it. Some men look up to Clint Eastwood, others aspire to be Ryan Seacrest. To each their own. But when someone starts equating this trend to novel social progress, well then I have a problem. We're talking about gallons of hair gel, tight-fitting tee-shirts, and cologne that announces your arrival from a mile away, not civil rights or the creation of The Box cut. "We are watching the birth of the hybrid man ... "? Please.

kurtrambis.com (Doug H.) – I'm neither endorsing nor condemning the opinions of this site. For me, it's all about that picture, which helps illustrate the point that they just don't make rivalries like they used to. Can you imagine Rambis applauding while McHale and the Celtics received their championship rings? Me neither.

espn.com – Strangely funny interview with Mitch Green, a former Tyson opponent. If you morphed Rick James and Reverend Brown from "Coming to America," don't you think you'd come up with that picture?

amazon.com (Intern I) – Make sure to listen to the tracks (click on "See more product details"). What's weird is that, as I'm going through each one and gradually laughing more and more (starting from the bottom with Omar Vizquel and reaching the comedic apex of Jeff Conine's cover of "Plush"), I finally get to the first track, Ben Broussard's "With or Without You" cover, and maybe I'm nuts, but I was sort of feeling it. No idea where that came from.

slate.com – A dead-on piece about the hypocrisy and sensationalism of celebrity gossip. Can you imagine if, one day in college after a questionable escapade with a certain someone, you emerged from your apartment to a throng of reporters and cameramen? Then, after class, your school forced you to take part in a sit-down interview with some Barbara Walters type, where you had to dodge invasive questions along the lines of, "Mr. Cott, were you and Ms. X still together when things started heating up between you and Ms. Y?," and "So I have to ask ... how soon were you and Ms. Y sleeping together?," all without coming off as a total jerk? Although, on the flip side, I guess that instead of going to a local bar for five dollar pitchers later that night, I would be jetting to Milan for an exclusive fashion show. Okay, I actually have no idea where I stand on this.

WEDNESDAY
newyorker.com (Nolen G.) – I sat in the left field bleachers for one game during last year's Braves/Astros playoff series. Other than the Astros' bullpen guys right next to us, Biggio in left was the easiest target to heckle. So at a particularly quiet moment, my friend stands up and screams out, "Biggio? More like ... SMALL-gio!!!" I swear, you could hear crickets afterwards. It was easily the most awful display of heckling I've ever witnessed. Naturally, we were still cracking up four innings later.

Continued...