" ... And I have to live with him," is the sassy follow-up that we like to imagine. We also like to imagine how "asking for water to clean yourself" would go over in the restroom of your average American sports bar (Hint: not so much).

Why we're on board:
Say you walk into the bathroom of said sports bar. The place is empty, so you pick out a stall at the far end, next to the wall so as to minimize any potential man-on-man adjacency. Just as you unfurl General Kong, some douchebag that you vaguely recognize from high school walks in. He sees you, smiles, and starts up a conversation.

Son of a bitch. This is YOUR time to commune (i.e. compare existential wangs) with the big man upstairs. The last thing you want to do is make awkward small talk with your junk exposed. Under the current rules, you look like an uptight asshole if you ignore the guy.

Under the new rule, you can, nay must, remain stone-faced and silent. Further, Captain Chatterbox would have to have balls of steel to even try it in the first place. If you think there is some sort of tedious and sober procedure for vetting impulse death sentences, allow us to burst your bubble: one call to 1-800-FATWA is all it would take to request that a hit be put out on his ass.

Why we're on board:
Granted, Zidane head-butting that punk was deliciously retarded, and that 'Goooaaaal!' guy of indeterminate ethnicity is entertaining. Too bad the sport that he is so passionate about isn't. Low scores, tie games, and dudes ripping off their shirts are the norm (that last one is only acceptable for Hulk Hogan, and to a lesser extent, the Ultimate Warrior).

The only thing that's mildly entertaining about soccer is tangentially related to the game: drunken hooliganism. We have that in North America too, except that we call it rioting and instead of beating the soccer-induced boredom out of each other with our fists, we steal television sets.

It isn't just the game's intrinsic lack of appeal either. We can tolerate a lot of peripheral distractions in our sports: rampant use of steroids, human growth hormone and cliches. However, we cannot in good conscience condone a sport where teams practice faking injuries at practice. If we want our kids to learn such pansy-ish ways, we'll send them to a boarding school in France.

That said, we wanted to issue this fatwa simply as a preemptive measure against David Beckham's impending popularity.

The ruling did not specifically address the case of men who "have shit that hangs down to here" (i.e. to the knee), presumably because there is a separate rule for transparent attempts at overcompensation.

Why we're on board:
Judeo-Christian tradition doesn't cover this aspect of clothing choice, which is unfortunate because many men are in need of guidance. We could spend a lot of words telling you why the man-thong should be punishable by death. But instead, we'll just show you...

According to Sheikh Salman al-Oadah, "These stories take people from the real world and place them in a world of fantasy. In doing so, they give people an unrealistic concept of life as well as unrealistic expectations." Testify!

He goes on to say, "It is only advisable for certain academics and concerned people to read such stories so they can be aware of what is out there." Amen! Uh ... wait a minute. Don't flake out on us, buddy. That last comment makes it sound like you want to have your girly sex-lit cake and eat it too.

Why we're on board:
We freely admit that the unfairest sex has had it relatively easy for most of Western history. There was a time when the only appropriate response to a woman saying "I didn't finish" was snoring, of the blissfully ignorant variety. Thankfully, we now know that women are multi-orgasmic. Genetically programmed to chase after high-scores in all endeavors, men are more than willing to take up the challenge presented to them by sexual science. The gauntlet thrown down by the popular "romance" novel, however, is a motherfucker.

It's not enough to satisfy your gal every single time out with a 15 to 120 minute routine, and an orgasm or two. No, according to her books with shirtless pirates on the cover, one thrust into her eager scabbard from your purple-headed warrior should be sufficient to induce several life-splattering orgasm within three seconds of penetration. Failure to do this means, of course, that you're not "the one" foretold by the romance novel; the one who would entice the feminine secretions from their velvety lair with unfailing intensity and volume.

Thus, millions of women feel like they are 'settling.' For their happiness and ours, let's end the madness by adopting this general boycott of romance novels, lest men everywhere wither in their fathomless impotence.

In 2001, Saudi Arabia's Higher Committee for Scientific Research and Islamic Law released a fatwa forbidding Pokemon video games and cards, opining that such activities promote gambling and possess the minds of young people. Basically, they think Pokemon is crack, pornography and a devil-horned Jewish conspiracy all rolled into one.

Why we're on board:
For those who don't know, Pokemon is a contraction of the Japanese term "pocket monster." You might suspect that this is another nonsensical by-product of their cock-centric culture, but you would be wrong in that suspicion. The gameplay is akin to cockfighting, except with adolescent gamers playing "trainers," and cutesy anime creatures hurling poorly animated lightning bolts instead of cocks.

We agree with the fatwa, and not just because we think Pokemon is lame. It is second only to the Mario franchise in sales, which is saying something because Pokemon n accomplished this in a market saturated with alternatives. If memory serves, all Mario had to compete with was that stick-and-hoop thing. In other words, Pokemon is addictive as hell and marketed to kids, and as Joe Camel tells us, that's a bad thing. Lets ban this shit now and get these kids playing other addictive games. You know, ones that teach invaluable life skills, like Halo for example.

That's what she said.

Why we're on board:
Do we seriously have to explain?

Though there may be a trap here, the clergy actually blessing a sex act has the tendency to take the fun out of it. Let's face it, if the Christian churches got together tomorrow and released a list of acceptable porn genres, two months later every seller of that porn would be bankrupt.

So, who knows, maybe the pro-oral proclamation would do nothing but cause a sudden increase in backdoor shenanigans. You can decide for yourself whether that's a good thing. We're moving on.