FIRE JOE MORGAN: A Very Special Holiday Message


Where Bad Sports Journalism Came To Die

FJM has gone dark for the foreseeable future. Sorry folks. We may post once in a while, but it's pretty much over. You can still e-mail dak, Ken Tremendous, Junior, Matthew Murbles, or Coach.

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Tuesday, December 19, 2006


A Very Special Holiday Message

Hey everyone. Ol' Kenny T. is heading back to the East Coast for some family time. My Department Head here at Fremulon Insurance (Rick Basket -- good guy, die-hard Cards fan) was kind enough to give me and Mrs. Tremendous a full 2 weeks off for the holidays. I will, as always, be on the lookout for terrible sports journalism, but in case I don't post again for a while, I wanted to wish you and yours a Happy Holiday Season!


Ken T.
Senior Pension Plan Monitor
Fremulon Insurance,
Partridge, KS


posted by Anonymous  # 3:30 AM
I just wanted to chime in here and wish everyone a calculated, objectively pre-determined holiday season.

I recommend that everyone design a metric to calculate which family members he or she loves the most; and purchase gifts, spend time and emotional energy accordingly.

Also, Ken -- I never asked.

How are things down in Fremulon's Argentina division?
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
We are taking a bath in Argentina. I don't even want to talk about it.

Also, I did a VORR (Value Over Replacement Relative) analysis, and the results shocked me:

Older Sister: 23.3
Mom: 19.8
Dad: 12.6 (!!!)
Younger Sister: 8.8
Cousin: 3.1 (makes sense -- he was injured most of the year)
Uncle: -1.1

I was going to get my dad a pair of fancy sunglasses, but after crunching the numbers I scaled back to a 3-month NetFlix subscription. Yet another way statistics have saved people money.
Hey KT -- sorry to hear about FI-ARG. I know how much that means to you.

Anyway, funny story. December 1988. Little ten-year-old dak is crunching his first ever set of VORR's. Crude calculations, sure, but enough to get the job done.

First number: Mom. Comes out to 0.0. "That can't be right," dak says to himself.

Next up: Dad. 0.1. "Huh?" Sis: 0.0. "What the?" Uncle Larry: -0.1. "Really?"

I go back over the numbers. Everything looks right to me. Somehow, the numbers I was getting suggested that my relatives were a lot more like replacement relatives than real relatives.

And believe it or not, that's when I realized I was adopted.
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