Things didn’t work out too well for David Blaine last night. Live on national television — before millions of people across the globe — he failed to set the world record for holding his breath underwater.

Undoubtedly, his insatiable ego has taken a major hit. But, that’s not the only thing smarting right about now.

Liver damage, neuropathy, skin rashes and grizzly “prune hands,” to name just a few.

I can’t do my drawerings when I’ve got prune hands!

Couldn’t resist good ole’ Simon. Anywho, here’s a snip from a recent New York Times article:

Though Mr. Blaine had covered his hands with petroleum jelly and worn gloves to provide his hands with some small measure of protection, Dr. Gunel was concerned about swelling and dangerously chafed skin. This, Mr. Scott felt, required his own additional explication: “You know what it’s like to be in a bathtub for an hour?” he said, “Well try that 175 times.”

Blogging Boner would be a bit more concerned about something else after a week-long submersion in 2,000 gallons of saltwater: Shrinkage.

Try explaining that one to the missus over the next few weeks.

I was in the pool! I was in the pool!

Blogging Boner has a buddy. He met him about 18 years ago after school at a bowling alley.

He went to Dater Elementary School. Blogging Boner attended Tisdale. Both were getting ready to make the big leap to Eric S. Smith Middle School when their worlds collided. They soon learned they had a lot in common and became fast friends.

The rest … is an eclectic catalog of fuzzy memories.

Today, this buddy sent Blogging Boner a recent article that features his professional exploits.

It’s about damn time.

During your meteoric rise to fame and fortune, don’t forget all the little people along the way who made it possible.

Ahem.

The dust is finally starting to settle from the recent 2006 NFL Draft.

Most Texans fans have returned from the ledges, and are now daydreaming about how to inflict bodily harm on new head coach Gary Kubiak and the rest of his family for passing on sure-fire stud Reggie Bush.

Mario Williams? C’mon.

It was an entertaining event. The most interesting since the New York Football Giants mortgaged its future on the arm of socially inept quarterback Eli Manning in 2003.

This upcoming season will be Year Three of the Manning experiment in the Big Apple, and it’s boom or bust time for the shmuck. The honeymoon is over, Eli.

That’s neither here nor there. None of this is, really.

What’s really on the mind of Blogging Boner is ESPN Draft Analyst/Expert Mel Kiper. Who is Mel Kiper? Let’s ask former Indianapolis Colts General Manager Bill Tobin:

He’s never been a player, he’s never been a coach, he’s never been a scout, he’s never been an administrator and all of a sudden he’s an expert. He has no more credentials to do what he’s doing than my neighbor, and my neighbor’s a postman.

That’s good stuff. Especially when almost everyone at home was thinking the same thing. And, most people, including Blogging Boner, feel the same way today.

It’s nowhere near as good, though, than the time Jim Everett dared television host and loud mouth Jim Rome to call him “Chris” one more time during an interview. Naturally, smart-ass Rome obliged, and the Los Angeles Rams quarterback went ape shit on him on live television, flipping a table and nearly smashing his face in.

Back to Mel.

Here’s a guy, who for the better part of two decades, has made a living yapping about college football players for ESPN. He’s well-known, successful, and in all likelihood, filthy rich. Mel even stars in commercials.

Truly, a total ass.

Not because he is bad at what he does. He seems to know what he’s talking about. As he should, because he spends 364 days out of the year getting ready for just one.

On the surface, he appears to be numerical savant — like Rainman, only with terrible hair. He meticulously logs statistics and measurements for thousands of athletes across the nation, and spits them out with veritable ease without consulting any notes.

If he was wrong, it’s not like anyone could even call him on it because the information is sometimes so obscure.

Everything about him, however, is just annoying.

Anyway, the last player selected in the NFL Draft is historically dubbed “Mr. Irrelevant.”

A wide receiver from the University of Maine, Kevin McMahan, was selected this year by the Oakland Raiders with the last pick. Officially, the 2006 NFL Draft’s Mr. Irrelevant.

Unofficially, Mel Kiper should get this award. Not just this year, but for every year that he has been alive.

Because does anyone really listen to a “dog-gone” thing that he says?

In Somalia, a recent parent-teacher conference went terribly wrong.

Both participants are now dead as a result of it.

And the 16-year-old student — the son of the parent who was killed — is responsible for the court-ordered public execution of the teacher.

Twisted Islamic law on display once again.

It’s not surprising. In fact, it’s rather unimaginative when you think about all of the other sick shit going on in Iraq, Afghanistan and the rest of the Middle East.

Wonder if the boy whispered into the poor guy’s ear through the floral pillow case:

You hear me talkin’, hillbilly boy? I ain’t through with you by a damn sight. I’m gonna get Medieval on your ass.

Let’s momentarily forget about that and think about what it must be like to be that 16-year-old boy. Here is his post-execution reaction and analysis:

I am happy now because I killed the man who killed my father, Mohamed Moallim said.

Ohhh-Kay. Fair enough.

But, what happens next? Is this kid back at school today? And, if he is, what are all the other little boys and girls in class saying about Mohamed? Talk about instant street cred.

No teacher is ever again going to mess with him, either, because he or she might be the next one to get filleted.

Looks to Blogging Boner like we’ve got yet another budding terrorist on our hands.