I always knew this guy was a loser. Exhibit A: he went to Ohio State. Since being proclaimed as the “Buckeye Jesus” (I made that up) after “leading” them to a “possibly-tainted” national title, he’s done nothing but run the “good” name of Ohio State into the ground. He also got busted for lying on a police report, to the tune of $10,000 in stolen goods that didn’t exist.

However, nothing made me happier this weekend than the fact that this guy (after two years of suing, whining, and being partially responsible for Mike Williams losing a year of NCAA eligibility) totally peed his pants at the NFL combine.

Clarett ran 40 times of 4.72 and 4.82. To put that in perspective, I just ate a gallon of chocolate ice cream in 4.5 seconds. In other words, Mo’ C is a waste of life and I really like ice cream. To top it all off, he QUIT right after that. “No more drills. My work here is done. I think I’ve proved my point.”

“I’m frustrated. I’ve been working a long time, waking up at 5:30 and going back at 12:30 and then at 7 o’clock, and I totally busted.”

He failed to mention that his three-a-days were actually watching Fresh Prince reruns and eating Krispy Kremes. For the record, there’s nothing wrong with watching Fresh Prince and eating Krispy Kremes (which I do almost daily), unless you’re trying to get drafted by an NFL team.

Now all we can pray for is that come April, Mr. Paul Tagliabue will have these words to say: “With the 975^th pick in the 2005 NFL Draft, the CLEVELAND BROWNS select Maurice Clarett, running back, THE Ohio State University (kindof).” Serves him right.

In honor of Presidents’ Day, I thought I’d dish out the Tool of the Week to a guy named Nixon. Trot Nixon.

He called out Alex Rodriguez last week – saying he wasn’t a true “Yankee” – which wasn’t that big a deal, but it led the way for a week-long dissfest where six of the Red Sox decided to take their shots at A-Rod.

The Sox are the defending champs, so they can say whatever they want. But calling people out individually is retarded. Especially when they guy you’re calling out has almost 400 career home runs and a career .305 batting average. Especially when the guy doing to calling out batted .207 against the Yankees in the ALCS last year.

That’s like C.C. Deville telling Keith Richards that he wasn’t a real Stone. Kindof. I don’t know.

What was A-Rod’s response?

"As far as earning your stripes, I really couldn't agree [more] with Trot Nixon and the guys that have said that because hopefully in due time, when I pay the price like Paul O'Neill and Roger Clemens did, then the fans of New York would realize that, hopefully, I'm a Yankee."

There’s one thing that A-Rod does have right about being a Yankee so far. It’s called class. I don’t know what he’s like off the field, but he knows how to handle himself in public and isn’t going to get involved with talking smack, especially with a guy that has one of the top five ugliest moustaches in sports history.

Cupid. The God of love or something like that. How this guy became the symbol of sexual desire baffles me. A non-attractive, usually fat BABY is the face of gettin’ it on. Who are the ad-wizards who came up with THAT one?

First off, he’s a baby. His testicles haven’t even descended yet and no amount of Levitra or Viagra or Cialis or Carmen Electra’s nude boobs will ever induce an erection from him. Also, being a baby, if he WERE able to manage any kind of sexual act, I’m pretty sure the girl or guy he was messing around with would be looking at a lengthy jail sentence for statutory rape.

Secondly, he shoots people in the ass with an arrow and that’s supposed to make them fall in love? I’ll tell you what it would make me do: beat the guy’s ass that just shot mine with an arrow. What a little prick… and I mean that literally.

Nextly, the guy probably has never even had a conversation with a real woman, therefore he would have no idea what to do with one. I guarantee that he’s got NOTHING on Hitch. Will Smith – why did you take a break from saving the world every summer and come out with a romantic comedy? If terrorists get us this year, don’t say I didn’t warn you…

Lastly, I submit that we change the symbol of Valentine’s Day from Cupid to - I don’t know - say… Natural Light. The Natty, although inanimate, is responsible for WAY more random hookups than lil’ Cupid will ever be a part of. But if the symbol has to be a human, I’d give it to Doctor Ruth.

Ahhhh Mini Me. Famous for his breathtaking performance of being really small and not talking in the second Austin Powers movie. Quite an impressive resume. Later, we found out why he didn’t talk: his voice sounds like Kerri Strug on helium. For those of you who didn’t get that gymnastics reference, here’s another more current one: his voice sounds like Paul Hamm on helium. If you didn’t get that reference either, just substitute the name with any gymnast that you’ve ever heard of. Strippers don’t count.

Anyway, now Mr. Troyer is making a name for himself on The Surreal Life, where I hear he’s stealing the show by being naked & drunk and peeing in random places. I do that all the time (and so does my dog) but you don’t see us parading it around on TV for all to see, do you?

Apparently his reality TV career (that sounds so sad) has caused the end of his marriage. I love the title of this article - "Troyer's ex still sore after breakup." I bet she is... Word has it that he called it off because “he felt he wouldn't be taken seriously as a reality TV star if he was married.” I’m thinking he wouldn’t be taken seriously because he’s about eight inches tall, alcoholic, and has a voice that you can replicate by rubbing two balloons together.

Even so, he claims to have had sex with three women at Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Mansion. I’m not buying it. I bet there are Playboy models that have aborted fetuses bigger than our boy Mini Me. Wow that was really wrong, I should delete that last sentence, but I’m too lazy.

Finally, here’s an article that breaks some groundbreaking news: “Verne Troyer is short.” I wonder what sleuthmaster uncovered that nugget of information. Good work, gumshoe!