Facebook has become the ultimate interrogator. By simply asking the question, “What’s on your mind?” to its users, criminals feel compelled to confess their crimes to Facebook.

Take this latest example for instance:

LONDON, CANADA – A city known not only for its post-secondary schools (The University of Western Ontario, and Fanshawe College), but also famous for its party-going culture. A riot broke out St. Patrick’s Day on Saturday. A news van was flipped, miscellaneous items set on fire, and bottles thrown at cops.

The rioting part of this is dumb enough, but intoxicated college students are known to do idiotic things. If you think peer pressure is bad, imagine mob pressure.

An estimated 1000 people participated in the riot, and it’s clear the rioters came down with a temporary case of DUHHHHH brought on by a combination of St. Paddy’s Day + Saturday + above average temperatures. Each of those three factors lead to excessive drinking on their own in college, but you add a holiday centered around drinking all day and things are bound to get out of hand.

Out of those 1000 who participated in the riot, how many confessed to their crimes with a promise of video evidence? The level of stupidity here is through the roof, clouds and into the great beyond. Brenden, what were you thinking?

I do feel for the kid, because while many of us have participated in acts of dumbness when we were in our teens or early twenties, with stories we wanted to share with all of our friends at once, we were lucky enough to not have the ability to do it. Facebook is great, but it’s also dangerous. I guarantee Brenden learned or will learn his lesson from this, which is why I blacked out his name and blurred his picture. It’s not for me to put his name out there, I’m sure he’s already infamous in London and the surrounding area.

Simple rule of thumb: When Facebook asks you, “What’s on your mind?” don’t post anything that can get you arrested.

Did you enjoy laughing at this guy’s misfortune? I know I did. If so, please use the below buttons to share this post.

In what might be attributed to trying to keep their upper lip warm in the cold Canadian winter, Canadians have raised far more than any other country in Movember 2011 by pulling in over $33 million in the fight against prostate cancer. In second place, the Movember inventing Aussies clocked in at over $22.5 million while the U.S. managed to raise $12 million, which reportedly was raised solely by the mighty Tom Selleck. Tom’s hoping to team up with Wilford Brimley next year to double that amount.

Here, we list the Movember winners and losers.

Movember Winners

14. November, because Movember makes November THAT much better.

13. Those tiny scissors with the wonky curve in your bathroom drawer, who finally got some use.

12. That mole on your upper lip that Movember showed you how to cover up.

11. Your fingertips, who enjoyed stroking that beautiful ‘stache constantly.

10. DVD sales for Magnum PI.

9. You, for having great times growing a mustache.

8. Male bonding, as Movember allowed strangers everywhere to bond over their mutual mustache.

7. Your razor, who got a well needed rest before the holiday season.

6. Small talk, because Movember gave everyone something to talk about.

5. Your friends, who got to laugh at your face on a daily basis.

4. Real men, who got to demonstrate their manliness by growing a majestic broom under their nose.

3. Perverts, who had a whole month of blending in with the crowd.

2. The fight against the very cruel and evil prostate cancer.

1. Ladies everywhere.

Movember Losers

12. Remembrance Day, that became more about remembering it’s time to grow a mustache than remember the mustaches soldiers who fought so bravely for our freedom.

11. Creamy soups, that got lost in your face-sponge.

10. Every man who didn’t participate in Movember, and got hassled for it and will live with regret for a whole year.

9. Your razor, who dreaded the day he would have to tear down the mighty forest north of your lips.

8. Your friends, who had to look at disgusting close-up pictures of your molester-like ‘stache on Facebook.

7. Women who received pledges for their mustache.

6. Wives and Girlfriends, who have been kissing sandpaper for the last month.

5. You, for having to look at yourself in the mirror for thirty days and see the patchy, ugly, itchy caterpillar nuzzling on your upper lip.

4. Married Movember men, who have seen a steady decline in their sex life.

3. Your mother, who hated the ‘stache since day one.

2. Full-time mustache growers, who were laughed at mistakenly by people thinking their duster was for Movember only.

1. Ladies everywhere.

Have you Doubled Downed yet? It was a question I was asked a million times since the October 18th Canadian release date of the infamous Double Down sandwich.  When I responded each time with a whimpering, “No, not yet,” I felt more than just an inkling of regret. I could feel my life passing me by. My stomach screamed for it. I couldn’t sleep at night. I’d wasted so much of my life eating sandwiches where the buns were bread, and not meat. Stupid. Why have bread when you can have more meat? When wandering around the mall, I saw not one, but two KFCs and I said, today is the day I right some wrongs. Today is the day I Double Down.

"2 pieces of deliciously seasoned Original recipe boneless chicken with crisp bacon, processed pepper jack cheese and KFC's very special Colonel's sauce."

Upon ordering, I inquired about the popularity of the Double Down in Canada. The cashier proudly spoke of its accomplishments, like the Double Down was her only child. While continuing to prattle on about her baby, she rang up my order and it was then I noticed the first knock on the Double Down: it’s price. At $6.99 just for the sandwich, and $8.99 for a combo, it was clear an addiction to the Double Down would simultaneously clog my arteries and empty my pockets, but there was nothing that could have kept me from Doubling Down that day. Nothing could have stopped me from eating the cashier’s overachieving child.

My first impression of the Double Down was that it was smaller than I expected (that’s what she said! bahahah). The patties were smaller than that of the Big Crunch, and without a side of fries, I worried I’d still be hungry. It’s quality that matters though, not quantity and when I bit into the Double Down, I was in a sense, doing a reverse dive into an orgasmic pool of deliciousness. Every bite was better than the last and the Original Recipe seasoning, as usual, was delightful. The bacon, pepper jack cheese and Colonel’s secret sauce made for the perfect filling for the chicken buns. I’d be nitpicking to say it was a little too salty, because the saltiness just gave me an excuse to suck down more and more tasty Dr. Pepper.

In the end, the Double Down was filling enough and DID NOT DISAPPOINT. If you were smart, you’d go get one right now. In Canada, there’s a chance it will only be available until November 14, 2010. Don’t you even dare miss out.

As my beard grew, so too did Team Canada's chemistry.

After team Canada beat the bratwurst out of Germany in the qualification round, I knew the Canadian Olympic hockey team had a tough road ahead.  The mighty Russians, who we were supposed to meet in the finals, were instead met in the quarters. One of the two titans would be going home without a medal. This was supposed to be a game for the ages. I knew hockey of this caliber only comes around every 4 years and if the NHL doesn’t commit to the next Olympics, it might never be back again.  So I started sending some text messages and spreading the word prior to each game that regardless of who joins me, I’m hitting up bars for the remaining 3 games.  Not surprisingly, a large contingent of fans wearing (and bleeding) red and white jumped on board.

After the Canadians sent the Russians back home to cry over a few bottles of delicious premium vodka, a correlation became clear: this was the first time my beard and I had supported the team in public. I didn’t have a beard in Canada’s gold medal winning 2002, or the disappointing 2006 Olympics. The 2002 team had Mario Lemieux, the 2006 team didn’t. A reasonable conclusion was that my beard was replacing the leadership not present in the absence of Mario Lemieux. It only makes sense. There was too much evidence supporting the beard theory. I knew Team Canada and my beard’s fate were entwined.

Canadian heroes: Yzerman, Iginla ... my beard.

So Russia was done, but I knew the Russian team had been overrated, it was the fast Americans with stellar goaltending, who were the real challenge and I wasn’t sure my beard and I were ready for them. So from that point forward I pleaded with my face, “Please beard, grow…Before it’s too late. Canada needs this. The Olympics needs this. The planet needs this.”

When Team USA beat Team Canada a week prior to the gold medal game, Team Canada’s defense, like my beard, had holes in it. From that day forward I committed to growing my beard 24 hours a day. Even in my sleep I urged the hairs to be thicker and stronger. A couple days after beating the Russians, we took out Slovakia. The stage was set for a rematch between the USA and my beard and Team Canada.

As my beard grew, so too did Team Canada’s chemistry. The weak spots in my beard disappeared, just as the weak spots in Canada’s game disappeared. Coincidence?  On the day of the gold medal game, my beard claimed there’s no such thing. Did team Canada’s grit wear down the opposing team’s defenses or was it my grizzly beard? Did Sidney Crosby score the OT goal or did my beard? You won’t read about this on ESPN.com or TSN.ca, because the media wants to tell you a different, fabricated story. Shhhh…We know the truth, but my beard will let Sid take the credit, because it’s better for Canadian hockey.

With the Olympics over, the Canadian hockey team adorned in gold, my beard’s work was done, and thus, was retired. My baby face restored. But underneath that baby face a new beard lies, hibernating, waiting to carry the hopes of Canadians on its hairy shoulders for the 2014 Olympics. Thanks be to beard. Amen.

Canada may never know how it came to be, but what's important is that we won.