At the suggestion of their agents, LeBron James and Mel Gibson met in downtown Miami to have coffee and discuss their recent struggles with public opinion. The following is a transcript of that meeting.

Mel Gibson enters wearing a cap and sunglasses. He sees LeBron standing by the coffee bar and walks over.

Mel: Oh, hey, LeBron James, right? I’m…(quietly, under his breath) Mel Gibson.

LeBron: Hey, Mel! What’s up! You were in Lethal Weapon! That’s awesome.

Mel: Yeah, just keep your voice down, would you? People tend to get really angry when they see me. Or hear me. Or even just hear my name…

LeBron: I gotcha man, no problem. People burned my jersey, I know where you’re coming from.

Mel: Great, thanks. I gotta say, I’m really surprised you agreed to meet me. Can I ask why you don’t, you know, hate my guts?

LeBron: What do you mean?

Mel: Well, what I did. The things I said. It’s in all the newspapers.

LeBron: Oh, man, if the articles aren’t about me I don’t even read ‘em. I don’t have any idea what you- unless, wait. You’re not in The Last Airbender, are you? I hear that thing’s real bad.

Mel: No.

LeBron: Oh, then we’re cool, man.

A Barista approaches.

Barista: What can I get you guys?

LeBron: I’ll have a venti caramel vanilla frappuccino with extra whip cream, sprinkles, and double mocha sauce.

Mel: Wow, LeBron, that’s a hell of an order. Isn’t that a little much?

LeBron: A little much is how I roll, Mel.

Barista: And what’s your name?

LeBron: King James.

Barista: …I’ll just write James, should be fine-

LeBron: No, it’s King James.

Barista: OK…and for you, sir?

Mel: I’ll just take a regular coffee.

Barista: Should I leave room for milk or do you want it black?

Mel: Oh God no, not black. Definitely not black. Plenty of milk.

Barista: Alright…and your name?

Mel: I’d rather not say.

Barista: Sir, we need a name so we can call you when your drink is ready.

Mel: Murdoch. My name is Murdoch.

Barista: Great. Murdoch it is. (To himself, as he writes down the order…) I’m getting too old for this shit.

Minutes later. They’ve taken their seats and Mel returns with the coffees.

Mel: So, rough weekend, huh? I saw that letter the Cavs owner wrote about you.

LeBron: That was nothing. He sent me the unedited version. There was some dark stuff in there, man. He called me a Nazi.

Mel: Well, Nazis get a bad rap sometimes…

LeBron: And I’m pretty sure the letter was written in poop. Like actual human poop. Or dog at least…

Mel: I’ve gotten those. It really hurts inside. It’s been tough for me too, LeBron…

LeBron: King James.

Mel: …King James. I haven’t had a weekend this bad since Bird On a Wire. I mean, who knew one little tape recorder could cause so much trouble?

LeBron: Well, two, actually.

Mel: What?

LeBron: Two recorders. The one that was taping when you called that cop lady “Sugar Tits” and said all the stuff about the Jews? Then the other when you threatened to beat your wife and said she’d get raped by the, well…you know…

Mel: Wait, I thought you said you don’t read the papers?!

LeBron: I don’t. But I saw your face on the cover of this one on the table, with these devil horns and whatnot drawn on it, so I figured I’d page through. You a fucked up mothafucker, Mel Gibson.

Mel: I know. Believe me, I know. Sorry about the whole ‘N’ word thing…

LeBron: Hey, man, it’s OK. We all make mistakes. We’re allowed to have a little lapse in judgment here and there. Destroy a fanbase on national TV, get every basketball fan in the world to hate you. Happens to all of us.

Mel: Did you really not call the Cavs before you announced it on TV?

LeBron: Come on, everybody’s ripping me on that! No, I didn’t call. It’s like this, do you call your girlfriend to tell her you’re breaking up with her before you start dating someone else? No way-

Mel: Yes, you do.

LeBron: You do?!

Mel: Believe me, King James, I’m awful to my girlfriends, like, unfathomably awful, and I still call them to break it off.

LeBron: Wow. That really makes me think, Mel.

Mel: But, hey, don’t be hard on yourself. I will say that what you’ve chosen to wear to today is completely tasteful and not at all whoreish. That’s more than most people can manage.

LeBron: Ah, thanks man. It’s a pretty weird compliment, but I’ll take it. So what are we gonna do with ourselves? I can’t ever go home to Akron…

Mel: I can’t go pretty much anywhere…

LeBron: My fans don’t love me anymore…

Mel: The only fans I have are in jail…

LeBron: I don’t even like Chris Bosh or Dwayne Wade all that much. I mean, they totally refuse to call me “King.”

Mel: I don’t like them either. But for…a different reason.

LeBron: You and me gotta team up. Start our own thing together.

Mel: Doing what?

LeBron: I don’t know…shooting hoops, making movies, solving crimes? I’ll be your new Danny Glover.

Mel: This sounds good! I could do that. I mean, it’s not like I gotta a lot of other offers. What do we call ourselves?

LeBron: I don’t know. King James hanging out with someone over the hill who can’t shoot and constantly has head up his own ass? Why don’t we call ourselves…the Cleveland Cavaliers?

Mel: Wow. That’s cold, man. That’s cold.

Judge Marsha N. Revel has been a revered Superior Court Judge in Los Angeles for many years. She has presided over several of Ms. Lohan’s appeals and hearings and has been known throughout her career as a stern but fair adjudicator . Revel is a regular guest columnist at True/Slant, but we’ve never printed her writing before because frankly, it’s usually pretty dull.

You know what? Lindsay Lohan can suck it. Wow that’s freeing. I’ve never said that before. In fact, I never even really knew what it meant before. But now, after dealing with Lindsay for what must be the 700th time (hey Lindsay, ever heard of “calling a cab”?! Try it. Then I won’t have to see you again), I definitely know what ’suck it’ means. You know when I figured it out? Right about…now:

So let me get this straight. You didn’t just skip our last hearing because you “lost your passport at Cannes”, but then you show up to the following one with “F— You” written on your finger? Well you know what, Lindsay? F YOU. And you can suck it! (Really feeling it now!) I’m a judge. I went to school for a long-ass time. Then I was a lawyer for a longer-ass time. The only things you’ve done for a long time are drink rum and make crappy movies. And you’re gonna curse me out in fingernail polish? Uh uh. Guess what? I got a manicure done today too. The right middle finger says “90 Days in Prison” and the left one says “90 Days in Rehab.” Add them up and you get 180 days of me kicking your ass through the California penal system. Ahhhhh yeah! My God I feel good! I bet Judge Judy feels like this all the time.

Here’s the thing LL, initially I was on your side. You’ve had a rough life, your family’s a mess, and you’ve obviously got a serious addiction problem. That hurts me to see, and I wanted to cut you a break. I even liked Mean Girls. But you skipped 10 rehab sessions. And you lied about it. And then you fake cried a whole bunch. Basically, you became a Mean Girl. Lying, manipulative, and too skinny. Ideally there’s a third act twist coming up where you realize the error of your ways, learn from your mistakes, and become a new and better person, but I kinda doubt it. Even your Herbie the Lovebug remake wasn’t that unbelievable.

I like to call this picture "Clearly Committed to Rehab"

So I was trying to be nice. I even considered recommending early parole. But then today you tweeted this:

It is clearly stated in Article 5 of the U.N. Universal Declaration of Human Rights that “No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.”

Hey, Freaky Friday. How about you leave the legal stuff to me, and I’ll leave the Pineapple and Malibus to you, OK? It’s not cruel and unusual to go to jail, especially where you’re going. They’ll be pillows and internet and probably even toilet seats. You’ll be fine. Meanwhile I gotta sit in an uncomfortable chair and listen to wackadoos like you trying to explain why they jimmied off their ankle monitoring device with a crowbar all day. You wanna see inhuman, sit in my chair for an hour without putting your fist through a wall. THAT’S inhuman. Or sit through all of Georgia Rule. One of the two.

In closing, Lindsay, I’d like to genuinely wish you the best of luck on your recovery. I truly hope you get better soon, mostly because it’ll keep me from ever seeing you in my court again. And again, F You. And suck it.

Shhh…somebody said they saw LeBron getting on airplane in Chicago, pass it on…oh really, well I heard he and Chris Bosh were getting milkshakes on Miami Beach, but don’t tell anyone…well that can’t be because Dwayne Wade was having dinner with Amare Stoudemire and the Knicks in New York, and he wouldn’t go without bringing LeBron, would he?…I said SHHHH!…I don’t know, but I’ll tell you one thing for sure, he wouldn’t play without Carlos Boozer, they made an agreement on the Olympic team in 2008. They’re best friends!…Wait, you’re not repeating any of this, are you?! It’s top secret!!!…

With more high-priced free agents on the market this summer than anytime in basketball history, it’s somehow become less like a sport and more like The Real Housewives of the National Basketball Association. In the last week, the locations of Dwayne Wade, Chris Bosh, Dirk Nowitzki, Amare Stoudemire, Joe Johnson and Carlos Boozer have been on constant report as the tour prospective teams, as if ESPN has an APB out on them. Honestly, Barack Obama has a better chance of slipping away than these guys. And of course none more so than King James. It’s funny, LeBron initially got his “King” nickname because of how great a player he was, but now it fits for a totally different reason. He loves to be #1, the focus of everyone’s fascination, the guy you can’t help but look at. And it’s turned an intriguing summer into complete nonsense.

Chris Bosh, for some reason.

This was an actual tweet from an actually coveted basketball player that was retweeted and reported like actual news:

Having a blast with the fam for long weekend. Going to see my grandmother. 92 yrs young! I’m sure she’s gonna treat me like a little kid.

“Chris Bosh is going to visit his grandmother, everybody! She’s 92, and she has a tendency to baby him! So…I think he’s signing in New Jersey! I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense, we’re reporting that he’s signing in New Jersey!!!” I mean come on, I tweeted more newsworthy information this weekend, and I spent 2/3rds of it drunk. With more than 5 NBA teams shedding massive payroll specifically so they can sign one of this summer’s behemoths, a bit of hysteria is understandable from the fanbase. But LeBron is the only player who’s in it solely for the pleasure of those hysterics. Most NBA insiders admit that it’s unlikely James will ever leave the Cleveland Cavaliers. That means so all this hoopla, all the hyped visits to every city, all the tweets typed out with trembling fingers, it’s all just for kicks. Theatrics designed for LeBron’s shits and giggles. Which is pretty sick when you think about it. And I’m not sure the guy is even worth the trouble.

Because I’m a fan of the Boston Celtics (eat it, Lakers), I got to watch every playoff minute of the three best one-on-one players in the NBA this season: LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, and Dwayne Wade. And let me tell you something, LeBron James came in third. And it wasn’t really even close. The best pure scorer is Wade. He went for a postseason high of 46 in Game 4 against Boston’s excellent defense, and was the only player to truly take over the game against them this playoffs. The best overall player was Kobe Bryant, who combined great defense with All-Star level scoring and the ability to hit the hardest shots on the face of the earth. Then there was LeBron. Good scorer – sure, but not much of an outside shot and disappeared in crunch time. Strong defender – absolutely, but more because of his size and agility than any shut-down ability. But most of all, LeBron just doesn’t seem to give that much of a crap about winning. What he DOES give a crap about though is the Summer of LeBron. For that he went on Larry King, for crying out loud. Not to talk about the games, not to talk about hoops – Larry King doesn’t know anything about hoops. He went on to talk about free agency. About bringing his bright shining star to another city. Which, as many have said, he doesn’t really have any intention of doing. As Jackie Mason would say, “What a yutz.”

And the worst part is, we’ve only just passed the 4th of  July. Which means the Summer of LeBron is just beginning.

You see this shot of actor Alexander Skarsgard?

They’d use it on his show True Blood, but frankly, he’s wearing too much clothing. True Blood likes to keep skimpy. Skimpy…like naked, if at all possible. And how can you blame them? If you got actors who look like Skarsgard, why not keep ‘em nude for as long as possible? I mean, he looks almost as good with his shirt off as I do. But here’s the thing, True Blood is a very popular program. Big with the dudes, big with the ladies, it’s a hit. Sometimes even it gets nominated for awards. But, let’s be honest, True Blood is humping with the occasional dash of dialogue thrown in.  You take “doing it” out of the show’s breakdown every week and you got a 20 minute program. Again, I’m not complaining necessarily. I like sex. I’ve heard sex is a very enjoyable thing. But the line between True Blood and pornography can sometimes get a little blurry, and I’m not sure that’s an indication of quality television.

For instance, in the season premiere the lovely Sookie Stackhouse, as played by Anna Paquin, wanted to have a conversation with Skarsgard’s vampire, so she showed at one his haunts (pun intended). She met him down in the basement where she found him totally naked having sex with a tied-up, wonderfully fit lady from the country of Estonia. They weren’t just having sex though, it was super fast vampire sex, and it was clear that the Pride of Estonia was in some discomfort. The subsequent conversation is shot with as much nudity and suggestiveness as possible, including a full frontal shot of the naked woman still tied up, writhing, with legs spread to camera. Woulda done Hustler proud. Again, I’m not trying to be puritanical about it, I’m just saying, these are not things that serious shows do. I don’t remember the scene on Breaking Bad where we walk in on Bryan Cranston aggressively throwing it in his despondent wife.

So is True Blood porn, or real television? Let’s make a list!

The Differences Between True Blood and Pornography:

1. Pornos usually stick to one kind of sex. In most True Blood episodes you’ll get a smattering of sex acts: some lesbianism, a threesome or two, and perhaps a little guy on guy action. Oh, and tons and tons of S&M. Pornographic videos, from what I’ve heard, will usually focus on only one of these. So that’s a difference, I guess.

2. Pornography tries to avoid cliche. The days of the guy delivering a pizza or a plumber coming in to check on the pipes are long over in the world of porn. Again, so I’ve heard. The adult industry now relies heavily on parody, making “Not The Brady’s XXX” and “Quantum Deep.” For example…

Pretty clever, for pornography. Meanwhile, the big revelation on True Blood this season is werewolves. Fighting vampires. Where have I seen that before? Oh right, everywhere.

3. The actors in pornos aren’t very attractive. Should you need evidence, see Cheers video above. As we mentioned earlier, most everyone in True Blood is very very attractive. So, as the saying goes, they got that going for them.

4. Pornography has some scenes without sex in them. Still waiting on one from True Blood. Maybe if Sookie went to the DMV? Or did her taxes?

5. Porn is blissfully free of tiresome social commentary about the oppressed. We get it, True Blood. The vampires are a metaphor for black people/gay people/immigrant people/people with difficult sleep schedules. Isn’t it awful how marginalized the “other” is in society, when really they’re a lot like us? It’s a great point, and if I was watching a Whoopi Goldberg movie made in 1985, I’d be all over it. But vampire kidnappings being unjustly ignored by the police? Yawn. Porn keeps it nice and simple.

6. Porn actors never spin their lovers’ necks around backwards and have creepy hate sex with them.

(NSFW)

Yikes.

But other than that, porn and True Blood are pretty much the same deal? What do you think? Is True Blood porn or real TV?

Takeru Kobayashi, the man who held the world record for hot dog eating for six years, has announced that he may not compete in the annual July 4th hot dog eating contest on Coney Island. The only reasonable solution? Cancel the 4th of July.

I have had the opportunity to see Kobayashi eat in person, and it’s quite a sight. He’s known as “The Tsunami”, which despite being wildly insensitive to the people who regularly get killed by tsunamis, is a pretty fitting name. He’s fast, destructive, and terrifying to watch. When Kobayashi eats a hot dog, you’re never entirely certain that he won’t take a finger with it. He pairs up two dogs at once and then pushes them conveyor belt style into his mouth, chomping all the way. I’m sure he’s lost rings down there, countless fingernails, probably a wrist watch or two. And despite being Japanese, tiny, and an intruder into what is clearly our rightful domain of competitive eating – he’s as American as apple pie.

I ask you, what’s more American that shoving disgusting amounts of food down your face in as short as time as possible? Sure, the Star Spangled Banner is our national anthem, but it really only sounds right when sung with a ho-ho and half a box of goobers in your mouth. The United States was a country born on freedom and independence, but we were raised on melted cheese and deep-fried funnel cake. Takeru exemplifies this as well as anyone. He was not a born eater. He’s slender and surprisingly short. He had to learn to be a pig, slowly working his way up through long training and strenuous workouts. Kobayashi wasn’t given what you and I take for granted: a natural ability to stuff our faces to the brink of sickness. He saw what we had and said, “That is what I work for. That is my destiny.” If that’s not the American Dream, I don’t know what is. And we’re supposed to celebrate our Independence Day without him? I don’t think so.

Not impressed? Well, here’s a video of Kobayashi in a hot dog eating contest with…a bear.

I’d like to see George Washington do that. It’s unknown why Kobayashi would skip the Coney Island challenge this year, but rumors are it’s over his appearance fee. Which frankly is a little hard to believe – I mean, the guy eats hot dogs for a living, how lavish could his demands really be? In any case, I’ve got two words for Nathan’s, the hot dog institution that runs the contest: pay him. Pay whatever it takes because it will not be the 4th of July without The Tsunami doing his thing. The fireworks won’t have the same pop, the grill won’t have the same sizzle, and the beer won’t have the same blinding intoxication. Because I was wrong in what I said before. Kobayashi isn’t as American as apple pie – he’s as American as 50 apple pies eaten in under a minute.  That is America. Don’t let us down, Nathan’s…