Congratulations to Keith C Hickman-Perfetti, the winner of our first pitch contest with the Tucson Padres. I'm not entirely sure what to make of this video, but Keith was the only person with enough ambition to enter, so he wins. Thanks for entering, Keith! Best of luck getting the ball in the strike zone.

• Jake Bacon/Arizona Daily Sun

It's probably morally wrong to mess with the message displayed on highway signs, and maybe drivers were confused
briefly, but just typing "rogue panda" made me chuckle:

Fort Valley Road is no panda express.

Local drivers making their morning commute Monday were greeted by an electronic sign along the busy stretch of road warning of a "rogue panda on rampage."

But rest easy, panda-phobes: It was a prank.

The Arizona Department of Transportation-controlled sign near the intersection of Fort Valley Road and Forest Avenue has been warning drivers about no left turns at the intersection. But at some point hackers took control to tell residents to be on the lookout for an ailuropoda melanoleuca, also known as a giant panda.

Authorities said there is no cause for concern.

"We want to assure all citizens of Flagstaff that there is no problem with rogue pandas," said Lt. Ken Koch with the Flagstaff Police Department.

He does, however, encourage anybody who spots a member of the endangered species roaming Flagstaff streets to call the police department.

The Upright Citizens Brigade left out the part about Lisa Frank's company being regularly called one of the worst places to work in Tucson, but I guess that doesn't fit the narrative arc.

[HT: Jezebel]

How do you sleep on a plane? Do you recline back, way back, doin' the rockaway? Do you deck yourself out in neck donuts and sleeping masks? Or do you tend toward the oh-so-charming open-mouthed, snoring thing (like me)? Do you ever wonder what's the best way to sleep on a plane?

The New York Times' Virginia Heffernan has pondered these exact questions to great success in her Op-Ed, "How to Sleep on a Plane."

Seriously, it does. Check out this little number outside Café Passe on Fourth Avenue. Hipster belt buckle and all.

I fall into the camp of really admiring artist/provocateur Banksy, especially after watching Exit Through the Gift Shop, so I'm obviously in the target audience for The Antics Roadshow, a documentary about pranksters varying from the political motivated to the simply bored which aired on England's Channel 4 this weekend, but I would imagine someone else would be amused by watching at least the first segment when someone attempts to re-create Mario Kart in the real world.

In typical Banksy form, he's somewhat dismissive of his own creation:

Explaining his reasoning behind the show, Banksy said: ‘Basically I just thought it was a good name for a TV programme and I’ve been working back from there’.

The first segment of four is above, the following three are below the cut (as long as they last on YouTube, at least).

Intern Celia Ampel will be leaving us to head back to Missouri soon, but before she does, she went to last week's Nerd Party at Lollipop Culture Shop just off Fourth Avenue.

I suspect that none of the stories on the new-ish Tumblr site Chuck Woolery Took Me From Behind are factual, and they're a little disconcerting to read, but gosh, I applaud the ingenuity of the bold soul who conceptualized this brilliant site.

My agent sent me on a general meeting with the casting department at the CBS-Radford Studio. This is in 1991, I think. When I got there, the receptionist told me to wait in the lobby and gave me a water. I was just leafing through one of the trade magazines when all of a sudden this kid who introduced himself as Ron and couldn’t have been older than 17 approached me and asked me to follow him. I went in to a big conference room with a bunch of executive types who all just nodded and smiled politely but didn’t get up or say anything, then followed Ron through another door into a pretty dark office. He told me it was the Studio Commissary, then left me alone. About 5 minutes later, the door opened, and in walks Chuck Woolery, who I recognized from watching The Love Connection. He looked very put together. After sizing me up for a moment, but without saying a word, Chuck handed me a single autographed headshot (except the weird thing is he’d autographed my own headshot), then brusquely took me from behind.

• Photo Ryn Gargulinski
• Internet scams are getting sneakier by the minute.

Now that people have become wise to Nigerian money scam e-mails and “click here” buttons that infect computers with the latest virus, deceptive online practices are getting sneakier.

One sucked me in the other day, promising I could win $1,000 if I submitted a cute photo of my pet. Since I obsess over my dog Sawyer to the point of probably needing psychological help, I chomped on that offer with a few clicks of the mouse, a submission form, and uploading one of the 5,428 endearing photos I have of the pooch.

One thousand dollars could buy a heck of a lot of dog treats.

The junk e-mail began immediately. I was first encouraged to tell all my friends, family members and people I might have passed on the street 12 years ago to vote for my dog’s endearing photo. After all, I was told, the only way I could win that $1,000 was to amass the most votes from fellow Internet suckers.

Anyone who wanted to vote, of course, had to fill out their own submission form that disclosed their name, e-mail, phone number, blood type, shoe size and date of birth. They would then be immediately slammed with their own set of junk e-mail.

In honor of Wi-Fi Day on Tuesday, Mashable asked its readers to submit the funniest network names they've seen. Some of these are a little lacking, but how can you not smile at "Pretty Fly for a Wi-Fi"?