Post Game Live is the Eagles post game show on Comcast SportsNet. You would think this is something I would enjoy. You would be very wrong.
The four assholes that are on this show absolutely ruin it. They are horrible as individuals, but as a group they are the worst thing on TV since Rosie O'Donnell's variety show.
I have never met anyone who likes Michael Barkann. He is absolutely useless. He is a douchebag of the highest order. He thinks its impressive that he talked to Jimmy Rollins the night before the Eagles played the Giants. I think its impressive that his assface has been on TV for ten fucking years without and original thought.
Ray Didinger apparently is in some sort of Hall of Fame. R Diddy, as Barkann calls him (have I mentioned how much I despise Barkann), is the most negative negadelphian that ever did negate. After the 44-6 win over Dallas, he complained that they didn't run enough. THEY JUST WON BY 38 POINTS YOU GERIATRIC FUCKTARD. After yesterday's win over the Giants, "R Diddy" finally confessed that maybe Andy has figured his team out. Thanks, douche.
Next on the panel is the Governor of Pennsylvania. That isn't a nickname for Ed Rendell, he actually is the Governor of Pennsylvania. He also ran the DNC a few years ago. No wonder the Republicans were in power for so damned long. Rendell is the epitome of the reactionary Philadelphia fan. I think he checks 610 before going on TV to give his "analysis". He is most famous for taking credit for starting the snowball fight during the Eagles/Dallas game in '89.
Rounding out this god awful group is two time Super Bowl champion Vaughn Hebron. Vaughn brings an ex-player's view. I guess he is also supposed to bring street cred with his shoutouts to the tailor of his fucking eyesores of suits and flashy fucking jewelry. Its like CSN couldn't afford Deion Sanders so they got his much, much less talented contemporary. He also refers to the Eagles as "we" while wearing his Broncos Super Bowl ring. Vaughn Hebron should die in a grease fire.
PGL also send Derrick Gunn (D Gunn as Barkann, the Guv, and R Diddy call him. Fucking christ I hate this show) to do interviews with players as they leave the locker room. Gunn is a professed Packer fan, and at times in the past has clearly rooted against the Eagles. Derrick Gunn, in a word, blows. He asks dumb questions and tried to act like he is the player's friend. Hey Derrick: I am pretty sure they hate you.
In all, I feel about PGL like the Mets feel like winning divisions. I try to avoid it at all costs.
1/12/09
The Meadowlands
The 2008/2009 Magical Playoff Mystery Tour led us to the Meadowlands led in North Jersey. Lovely trash pile you see on the Turnpike a few miles short of the stadium, by the way.
At around 11:30, we were 2 miles from exit 16W. Despite having a parking pass, we missed the opening kickoff. What a fucking shitshow. It took nearly two hours to move two miles, park, and get through security.
After the expected "Fuck you"s and "Fuck the Eagles" walking up to section 309, we were more or left alone despite wearing Eagles jerseys. It wasn't that cold. It was rather damn enjoyable for the most part.
The best exchange of the afternoon came after the game was, for the most part, decided. A Giants fan was passively aggressively complaining about the situation the row behind us, saying things like "Weren't these the people booing McNabb a few weeks ago?" (Apparently he forgot how he felt about Eli and Coughlin midway through last year). As the SuperFan was leaving with 4 minutes left, he kept saying "Go Cardinals". Ignoring my own advice, I retaliated with "Go home". At which point he breaks out...
"I hope you get in an accident on the turnpike and die. I want to read about it in the paper tomorrow."
The whole section was overtaken with an awkward silence. It was fantastic.
Leaving was jubilant, as it was probably 50/50 in terms of fans remaining. We chilled in the parking lot awhile waiting for the crowd to thin out before discovering the car battery died. After asking a few people for a jump, a Giants fan finally helped. We offered him cash for his services, but he declined saying "We're all Americans". Quite the heartwarming story.
At around 11:30, we were 2 miles from exit 16W. Despite having a parking pass, we missed the opening kickoff. What a fucking shitshow. It took nearly two hours to move two miles, park, and get through security.
After the expected "Fuck you"s and "Fuck the Eagles" walking up to section 309, we were more or left alone despite wearing Eagles jerseys. It wasn't that cold. It was rather damn enjoyable for the most part.
The best exchange of the afternoon came after the game was, for the most part, decided. A Giants fan was passively aggressively complaining about the situation the row behind us, saying things like "Weren't these the people booing McNabb a few weeks ago?" (Apparently he forgot how he felt about Eli and Coughlin midway through last year). As the SuperFan was leaving with 4 minutes left, he kept saying "Go Cardinals". Ignoring my own advice, I retaliated with "Go home". At which point he breaks out...
"I hope you get in an accident on the turnpike and die. I want to read about it in the paper tomorrow."
The whole section was overtaken with an awkward silence. It was fantastic.
Leaving was jubilant, as it was probably 50/50 in terms of fans remaining. We chilled in the parking lot awhile waiting for the crowd to thin out before discovering the car battery died. After asking a few people for a jump, a Giants fan finally helped. We offered him cash for his services, but he declined saying "We're all Americans". Quite the heartwarming story.
1/6/09
Minnysotah
Ed. Note: This entry is less angry than usual. If you have an issue with that, go fuck yourself.
When the Eagles qualified for the playoffs last Sunday, Grebe, Hewitt and myself decided to go to Minnesota for the game. What else are three unemployed people going to do? Save money? HA. Our friend of color was also supposed to come, but he pussied out. Asshole.
After originally deciding while drunk that driving out to the great north was the way to go, we realized while sober that was not the case. Unfortunately, flying from Philly to Minneapolis is appallingly expensive. This led to the fantastic itinerary of flying to Philly to Cincy to Madison, then driving to Minneapolis.
I woke up Saturday at 430 AM, which is about when I usually go to sleep. At the Philly airport, the security people examined Grebe's metal knee like he had a turban over it. That was funny to me. We were taking "Delta Connection" flights, meaning no Boeings for us. Shockingly, there was only about 10 people trying to fly to Cincinnati at 730 in the morning.
All you need to know about the Cincinnati airport is that it is in Northern Kentucky, and dangerously close to Southeastern Indiana. Excitement abounded, obviously, during our layover there. I drank, Grebe was excited about the "smoking lounge" and we went to Madison, WI. Home of the Badgers!
The Madison airport was particularly charming with all its 1977ish decor. And the five other people who were there. On an aside, Madison is about as unimpressive as a town can be. We left promptly.
About an hour into the drive through Wisconsin, a few things became abundantly clear. People in Wisconsin love cheese. It is also the indoor waterpark capital of the world. They are fucking everywhere. The whole way up 94 There was farms and water slides as far as the eye can see. This is also when the ice storm began.
Here on the East Coast, ice and snow means plowing and salting of major roadway. Not so in Wisconsin/Minnesota. Apparently a few inches of ice and snow isn't worth salting the road. Or driving below 60, despite the graveyard of cars off to the side of the road. This made a four hour drive a seven hour drive.
When arriving in Minneapolis, we ate at Applebee's because it was connected to the hotel. Here, we learned our first lesson of Minneapolis. They all talk like they do in Fargo. Minneysotah is the best way I can it in type. These people are also absurdly friendly. More on that later. Further, there is an abundance of skinny blondes running around. It was disorienting.
Later we went to the bar where the bartender asked "What can I get ya boys?" in as thick of a South Canada accent as possible. Beer was cheap, and these people were jacked up because the Gopher hockey team won. And Sidney Crosby got into a fight. They love hockey.
When Tim and I went to get breakfast Sunday morning, the temperature was -1 and the wind chill was -19. It got COLDER throughout the day. What the fuck kind of weather is this?
The Metrodome is very loud. Louder than the Linc or Giants Stadium. The meanest thing said me however was "You people booed Michael Irvin, eh? That isn't very friendly. Go back east, eh". The people sitting behind us welcomed us to Minnesota. They readily admitted that we were the better team. The people were uncomfortably nice. While leaving, some guy behind us complained that he came to the game instead of ice fishing for walleye. He was joking. I think.
Driving back to the Madison airport, we bought cheese and Cranberry wine, since these items seemed to be what you need to buy when in Central Wisconsin. That is if you aren't going to ride the waterslides, of course.
Madison is where I found about Pat Burrell. Go to hell Ruben Amaro.
When we landed in Philly around 10:30 PM Monday, the wind chill was more than sixty degrees higher than it was in Minneapolis on Sunday. Again, what the hell is the deal with that weather.
In closing:
1. We win!
2. I have attended a playoff victory by all four professional Philly sports teams since April
3. Minnesota is cold. And they talk funny.
When the Eagles qualified for the playoffs last Sunday, Grebe, Hewitt and myself decided to go to Minnesota for the game. What else are three unemployed people going to do? Save money? HA. Our friend of color was also supposed to come, but he pussied out. Asshole.
After originally deciding while drunk that driving out to the great north was the way to go, we realized while sober that was not the case. Unfortunately, flying from Philly to Minneapolis is appallingly expensive. This led to the fantastic itinerary of flying to Philly to Cincy to Madison, then driving to Minneapolis.
I woke up Saturday at 430 AM, which is about when I usually go to sleep. At the Philly airport, the security people examined Grebe's metal knee like he had a turban over it. That was funny to me. We were taking "Delta Connection" flights, meaning no Boeings for us. Shockingly, there was only about 10 people trying to fly to Cincinnati at 730 in the morning.
All you need to know about the Cincinnati airport is that it is in Northern Kentucky, and dangerously close to Southeastern Indiana. Excitement abounded, obviously, during our layover there. I drank, Grebe was excited about the "smoking lounge" and we went to Madison, WI. Home of the Badgers!
The Madison airport was particularly charming with all its 1977ish decor. And the five other people who were there. On an aside, Madison is about as unimpressive as a town can be. We left promptly.
About an hour into the drive through Wisconsin, a few things became abundantly clear. People in Wisconsin love cheese. It is also the indoor waterpark capital of the world. They are fucking everywhere. The whole way up 94 There was farms and water slides as far as the eye can see. This is also when the ice storm began.
Here on the East Coast, ice and snow means plowing and salting of major roadway. Not so in Wisconsin/Minnesota. Apparently a few inches of ice and snow isn't worth salting the road. Or driving below 60, despite the graveyard of cars off to the side of the road. This made a four hour drive a seven hour drive.
When arriving in Minneapolis, we ate at Applebee's because it was connected to the hotel. Here, we learned our first lesson of Minneapolis. They all talk like they do in Fargo. Minneysotah is the best way I can it in type. These people are also absurdly friendly. More on that later. Further, there is an abundance of skinny blondes running around. It was disorienting.
Later we went to the bar where the bartender asked "What can I get ya boys?" in as thick of a South Canada accent as possible. Beer was cheap, and these people were jacked up because the Gopher hockey team won. And Sidney Crosby got into a fight. They love hockey.
When Tim and I went to get breakfast Sunday morning, the temperature was -1 and the wind chill was -19. It got COLDER throughout the day. What the fuck kind of weather is this?
The Metrodome is very loud. Louder than the Linc or Giants Stadium. The meanest thing said me however was "You people booed Michael Irvin, eh? That isn't very friendly. Go back east, eh". The people sitting behind us welcomed us to Minnesota. They readily admitted that we were the better team. The people were uncomfortably nice. While leaving, some guy behind us complained that he came to the game instead of ice fishing for walleye. He was joking. I think.
Driving back to the Madison airport, we bought cheese and Cranberry wine, since these items seemed to be what you need to buy when in Central Wisconsin. That is if you aren't going to ride the waterslides, of course.
Madison is where I found about Pat Burrell. Go to hell Ruben Amaro.
When we landed in Philly around 10:30 PM Monday, the wind chill was more than sixty degrees higher than it was in Minneapolis on Sunday. Again, what the hell is the deal with that weather.
In closing:
1. We win!
2. I have attended a playoff victory by all four professional Philly sports teams since April
3. Minnesota is cold. And they talk funny.
12/21/08
Jewelry Store Commercials
I rarely watch commercials because they all suck. However, whenever I happen to catch commercials they seem to be for jewelry stores. I guess because I am watching sports and this is supposed to let me know that girls like jewelry. And gifts! Like I don't know this already. I guess they think I am fucking stupid.
The worst is the Jared commercials. First of all, "He went to Jared" is the dumbest fucking slogan I have ever heard. Second, I don't think it is possible for the women in these commercials to be more vapid. They seem like real whores. Third, if I am on a date with a chick and she is texting her friends details of everything I am giving her, she can go fuck herself. What a bitch. And the whores send a picture of themselves asking if the guy has brothers since he is so fucking great, and the guy thinks this is funny. No one deserves these jizz rags more than this guy.
The Kay commercial with the deaf girl is also awful. This guy is dating a deaf girl and his sign language sucks? That is horrible. Put some effort into it, jerkoff. You supposedly are in love with this girl and you can't spend a weekend learning sign language. I think my fucking 12 year old nephew learned sign language during 4th period last week. He finally learns something and learns Merry Christmas? What a useless sign to learn. You are going to marry this chick and can't communicate with her, but at least you can say Merry Christmas!
Just put my fucking football game back on, I'm not buying any goddamned jewelry. Especially not for whores or the deaf. But if I find a deaf whore, all bets are off.
The worst is the Jared commercials. First of all, "He went to Jared" is the dumbest fucking slogan I have ever heard. Second, I don't think it is possible for the women in these commercials to be more vapid. They seem like real whores. Third, if I am on a date with a chick and she is texting her friends details of everything I am giving her, she can go fuck herself. What a bitch. And the whores send a picture of themselves asking if the guy has brothers since he is so fucking great, and the guy thinks this is funny. No one deserves these jizz rags more than this guy.
The Kay commercial with the deaf girl is also awful. This guy is dating a deaf girl and his sign language sucks? That is horrible. Put some effort into it, jerkoff. You supposedly are in love with this girl and you can't spend a weekend learning sign language. I think my fucking 12 year old nephew learned sign language during 4th period last week. He finally learns something and learns Merry Christmas? What a useless sign to learn. You are going to marry this chick and can't communicate with her, but at least you can say Merry Christmas!
Just put my fucking football game back on, I'm not buying any goddamned jewelry. Especially not for whores or the deaf. But if I find a deaf whore, all bets are off.
12/18/08
People at Stores
Have you been to a public place lately? Its like a fucking leper colony out there. A week before the bastardly holiday that shall not be named, I headed out so a few local stores. I needed some shit and I would not be stopped by the insane people that crawl out of their holes this time of year. Below, I rank the attractiveness of people at each store, from best to worst.
Target
Ah, my old stomping grounds. Despite the awful job being done by the current cartboy (they could never adquately replace me), the clientele at Target is way above anywhere else I visited. Except for the frightening bitch who was blocking the candy canes from everyone else with pure sugar induced hatred in her eyes, people seemed sane, put together, and occasionally attractive.
Target also was the place most likely to have attractive cashiers (almost) in my age range. In hindsight, I really wasted opportunities when I worked there. The registers reek of teenage angst and repressed sexuality. Fuck I was a useless teenager. Of course I searched out the aisle of the best looking girl. And if you say you don't do that, you are a dirty fucking liar. It isn't like I am in some sort of hurry. Plus, I really hate the smell of Polident. And other dudes.
Modell's
The Modell's crowd was mostly mothers/grandmothers looking for something to buy their sons/grandsons. Not the greatest looking people, but not horrid. I have relatively little beef with these people, except when they try to write checks. Why old people think it is still socially acceptable to write checks is beyond me. The check pisses off the cashier, the person behind you, the bank, and god himself. GET A FUCKING DEBIT CARD.
The Modell's parking lot also meant trying to park and drive in a crowded parking lot. Jesus fucking christ is that a terrible experience. People who stop where they think there should be a stop sign but is no stop sign should be eliminated from society.
7-11
Ever wonder the kind of people who are in 7-11 at 9:30 on a Thursday? People like me, thats who. The 7-11 is generally filled with teenaged (I am teenaged mentally) slackers, buying slurpees, cigarettes and taquitos. Even the damn cashier was someone in the 18-21 age range who wanted to be anywhere but that 7-11. There isn't much to say about the people in the 7-11. They are mostly just there.
Best Buy
My god, Best Buy the bastion for people who have been rejected by every other sociatial group. I don't know who is scarier, the employees or the customers. I will now list the people you encounter at Best Buy.
1. The fat guy in shorts. Look, I have no problem with fat people. I once was a fat person. Shit happens, I get it. BUT PUT ON SOME GOD DAMNED PANTS. Its 30 degrees out, asshole. Unsurprisingly, FGIS is buying something related to World of Warcraft, and seen hovering in the video game aisle. He is also there with his friend...
2. Skinny guy in black. Why do video game nerds always travel in a fat/skinny combo? And why does the fat guy never shutup while the skinny guy never talks. Why do I always end up behind these people in line? Fucking mystery.
3. Technology guy who thinks he's better that you. Yeah asshole, I am buying a CD. I know I can burn it, but I have been burdened with this fucking gift card and have to buy something so stop snickering at me. Every employee at Best Buy thinks he is better than you. They also all have douchetastic facial hair. Its okay though, because TGWTHBTY hasn't seen a boob not on a computer screen since his mother finished nursing him.
4. Yokel amazed by technology. I don't know if it's at all Best Buys or just my local one, but the yokel/trailer park contingent is huge. It is like a celebration of NASCAR and poor hygiene in there. Anyway, these people are amazed by things like digital cameras. So amazed, that they bring the entire family with them to look at it. I don't think I have ever seen a yokel travel alone. They then cap their big day out at the technological store by buying a vacuum or microwave. Yokels are the only people who buy such items at Best Buy. I guess that is the equivalent of cutting edge technology to a yokel.
Other things commonly seen in Best Buy include: mustaches (men and women), track suits, ugly people.
Target
Ah, my old stomping grounds. Despite the awful job being done by the current cartboy (they could never adquately replace me), the clientele at Target is way above anywhere else I visited. Except for the frightening bitch who was blocking the candy canes from everyone else with pure sugar induced hatred in her eyes, people seemed sane, put together, and occasionally attractive.
Target also was the place most likely to have attractive cashiers (almost) in my age range. In hindsight, I really wasted opportunities when I worked there. The registers reek of teenage angst and repressed sexuality. Fuck I was a useless teenager. Of course I searched out the aisle of the best looking girl. And if you say you don't do that, you are a dirty fucking liar. It isn't like I am in some sort of hurry. Plus, I really hate the smell of Polident. And other dudes.
Modell's
The Modell's crowd was mostly mothers/grandmothers looking for something to buy their sons/grandsons. Not the greatest looking people, but not horrid. I have relatively little beef with these people, except when they try to write checks. Why old people think it is still socially acceptable to write checks is beyond me. The check pisses off the cashier, the person behind you, the bank, and god himself. GET A FUCKING DEBIT CARD.
The Modell's parking lot also meant trying to park and drive in a crowded parking lot. Jesus fucking christ is that a terrible experience. People who stop where they think there should be a stop sign but is no stop sign should be eliminated from society.
7-11
Ever wonder the kind of people who are in 7-11 at 9:30 on a Thursday? People like me, thats who. The 7-11 is generally filled with teenaged (I am teenaged mentally) slackers, buying slurpees, cigarettes and taquitos. Even the damn cashier was someone in the 18-21 age range who wanted to be anywhere but that 7-11. There isn't much to say about the people in the 7-11. They are mostly just there.
Best Buy
My god, Best Buy the bastion for people who have been rejected by every other sociatial group. I don't know who is scarier, the employees or the customers. I will now list the people you encounter at Best Buy.
1. The fat guy in shorts. Look, I have no problem with fat people. I once was a fat person. Shit happens, I get it. BUT PUT ON SOME GOD DAMNED PANTS. Its 30 degrees out, asshole. Unsurprisingly, FGIS is buying something related to World of Warcraft, and seen hovering in the video game aisle. He is also there with his friend...
2. Skinny guy in black. Why do video game nerds always travel in a fat/skinny combo? And why does the fat guy never shutup while the skinny guy never talks. Why do I always end up behind these people in line? Fucking mystery.
3. Technology guy who thinks he's better that you. Yeah asshole, I am buying a CD. I know I can burn it, but I have been burdened with this fucking gift card and have to buy something so stop snickering at me. Every employee at Best Buy thinks he is better than you. They also all have douchetastic facial hair. Its okay though, because TGWTHBTY hasn't seen a boob not on a computer screen since his mother finished nursing him.
4. Yokel amazed by technology. I don't know if it's at all Best Buys or just my local one, but the yokel/trailer park contingent is huge. It is like a celebration of NASCAR and poor hygiene in there. Anyway, these people are amazed by things like digital cameras. So amazed, that they bring the entire family with them to look at it. I don't think I have ever seen a yokel travel alone. They then cap their big day out at the technological store by buying a vacuum or microwave. Yokels are the only people who buy such items at Best Buy. I guess that is the equivalent of cutting edge technology to a yokel.
Other things commonly seen in Best Buy include: mustaches (men and women), track suits, ugly people.
12/10/08
Bob Salmi
If you don't know, Bob Salmi is the color man for Sixers basketball on Comcast SportsNet. He is awful at his job. Salmi replaced Steve "The Mayor" Mix last season, despite Steve Mix being good at his job and Salmi sucking balls at it.
Salmi first appeared on CSN when he would do spots on DNL as "The coach in the truck" and the truck is where he should have fucking stayed. Despite this team being a gigantic disappointment, Salmi continues to claim he sees "improvement" and claims it is "going to take time". THE SEASON IS 25% FINISHED, JACKASS. Salmi has secured his job for being the biggest fucking homer he can possibly be.
Bob also has a belief that Andre Miller is the second coming of Magic Johnson. It would be a good comparision, except Miller is significantly shorter and much less talented. Salmi likes to say Miller "gives this Sixer team what it needs". That need seems to be mediocre point guard play and a losing record. Salmi has to get a new pair of pants everytime Miller shot fakes. Bob monotonely exclaims that Miller has "the best shot fake in the NBA". Nothing gets Bob more jacked up than watching Andre Miller get enveloped by another sweaty man. Game winning shot? Bob has nothing to say because he is still pleasuring himself over that sweet pump fake three quarters ago.
The word Salmistrator is enough to make me want to punch someone in the face. In their infinite wisdom, Comcast thought it might ease the pain of watching Andre Iguodala drive into the lane and dribble the ball off his foot if Marc Zumoff and Salmi giggle like school girls every night about clever wordplay. While breaking down Iggy's before mentioned failure, we have to watch Bob Salmistrate (Ed. Note: I am currently shaking with anger over having to type that stuping fucking term) his thoughts on the play on the telestrator. Sorry, Salmistrator. It usually sounds something like this:
"And here Andre Iguodala (Never Andre or Iguodala. Always Andre Iguodala. This also pisses me the fuck off. Just in case there is another Iguodala on the floor, Bob lets us know he means Andre Iguodala) drives by his defender, but he lacks the exceptional shot fake of Andre Miller...(pause to clean self up)....so the play breaks down. It is going to take some time before Andre Iguodala can improve enough to give this Sixer team what it needs."
Fucking Salmistrator.
In short, I hope Bob Salmi rots in hell where he can never see Andre Miller shot fake ever again. The Dockers corporation may become bankrupt, however.
Salmi first appeared on CSN when he would do spots on DNL as "The coach in the truck" and the truck is where he should have fucking stayed. Despite this team being a gigantic disappointment, Salmi continues to claim he sees "improvement" and claims it is "going to take time". THE SEASON IS 25% FINISHED, JACKASS. Salmi has secured his job for being the biggest fucking homer he can possibly be.
Bob also has a belief that Andre Miller is the second coming of Magic Johnson. It would be a good comparision, except Miller is significantly shorter and much less talented. Salmi likes to say Miller "gives this Sixer team what it needs". That need seems to be mediocre point guard play and a losing record. Salmi has to get a new pair of pants everytime Miller shot fakes. Bob monotonely exclaims that Miller has "the best shot fake in the NBA". Nothing gets Bob more jacked up than watching Andre Miller get enveloped by another sweaty man. Game winning shot? Bob has nothing to say because he is still pleasuring himself over that sweet pump fake three quarters ago.
The word Salmistrator is enough to make me want to punch someone in the face. In their infinite wisdom, Comcast thought it might ease the pain of watching Andre Iguodala drive into the lane and dribble the ball off his foot if Marc Zumoff and Salmi giggle like school girls every night about clever wordplay. While breaking down Iggy's before mentioned failure, we have to watch Bob Salmistrate (Ed. Note: I am currently shaking with anger over having to type that stuping fucking term) his thoughts on the play on the telestrator. Sorry, Salmistrator. It usually sounds something like this:
"And here Andre Iguodala (Never Andre or Iguodala. Always Andre Iguodala. This also pisses me the fuck off. Just in case there is another Iguodala on the floor, Bob lets us know he means Andre Iguodala) drives by his defender, but he lacks the exceptional shot fake of Andre Miller...(pause to clean self up)....so the play breaks down. It is going to take some time before Andre Iguodala can improve enough to give this Sixer team what it needs."
Fucking Salmistrator.
In short, I hope Bob Salmi rots in hell where he can never see Andre Miller shot fake ever again. The Dockers corporation may become bankrupt, however.
12/8/08
Christmas
I hate Christmas on so many levels.
It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment I started to hate Christmas. I know it was pretty hyped when I got that Sega Genesis when I was ten. I also know I hated this horrible season by the time I was 18.
It probably started when I was expected to buy things for other people. And not just five dollar gifts for my parents I bought with their money at the school Christmas Bazaar. People actually expected shit from me. It became especially stressful when I had a girlfriend for six years and she would never tell me what the hell she wanted. I had to "figure it out". Bullshit. That was alot of pressure for a teenager. It was the difference between getting laid and getting a blowjob or just getting laid, and this was a serious problem when I was 18. No wonder the two of us ended hating each other.
It also pisses me off when people ask me what I want, I say cash, and they won't just fucking give me cash. They want to get me something I really want. You know what I want? You to give me fifty bucks so I can buy booze. If you want to cut out the middle man and just buy me two cases of natty and a bottle of jack instead of giving me 50 bucks, fine. But I don't want a fucking DVD or mall gift card.
Then I worked retail on Black Friday. What the hell is wrong with you people? People lined up outside Target at 5 AM in freezing weather so they can buy a video game for 20 bucks. Idiots. Nothing like being berated by a middle aged hag as you check out a dvd player for her ungrateful snot of a son. This is what is wrong with America.
And then people act like its okay to treat each other like shit for 11 months, as long as they are nice for the 4 weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Its the "spirit of the season". What the hell does that mean? Why are you people so happy? Its goddamn cold out, and its only getting colder. Its dark at fucking 4:30 PM. This month sucks. I don't like you people January through November, some icicle lights aren't going to change my mind.
Christmas music sucks balls. There is like seven Christmas songs, and just having somebody else sing it doesn't make it better. And the stations that start playing nothing but Christmas music on November 1st should be burnt to the ground. There is only so many times I can hear Bing Crosby followed by Mariah Carey before I want to blow my brains in. The only Christmas song I kind of like is Last Christmas, and that is by fucking Wham. Fuck you Christmas for making me like a Wham song. I don't even really like it, it is just so much better than a Backstreet Boy Christmas or whatever else pop shit they play now that it looks like the fucking Beatles in comparison.
Damn I hate Christmas, and its only December 8th. More on this to come, I am sure.
It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment I started to hate Christmas. I know it was pretty hyped when I got that Sega Genesis when I was ten. I also know I hated this horrible season by the time I was 18.
It probably started when I was expected to buy things for other people. And not just five dollar gifts for my parents I bought with their money at the school Christmas Bazaar. People actually expected shit from me. It became especially stressful when I had a girlfriend for six years and she would never tell me what the hell she wanted. I had to "figure it out". Bullshit. That was alot of pressure for a teenager. It was the difference between getting laid and getting a blowjob or just getting laid, and this was a serious problem when I was 18. No wonder the two of us ended hating each other.
It also pisses me off when people ask me what I want, I say cash, and they won't just fucking give me cash. They want to get me something I really want. You know what I want? You to give me fifty bucks so I can buy booze. If you want to cut out the middle man and just buy me two cases of natty and a bottle of jack instead of giving me 50 bucks, fine. But I don't want a fucking DVD or mall gift card.
Then I worked retail on Black Friday. What the hell is wrong with you people? People lined up outside Target at 5 AM in freezing weather so they can buy a video game for 20 bucks. Idiots. Nothing like being berated by a middle aged hag as you check out a dvd player for her ungrateful snot of a son. This is what is wrong with America.
And then people act like its okay to treat each other like shit for 11 months, as long as they are nice for the 4 weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Its the "spirit of the season". What the hell does that mean? Why are you people so happy? Its goddamn cold out, and its only getting colder. Its dark at fucking 4:30 PM. This month sucks. I don't like you people January through November, some icicle lights aren't going to change my mind.
Christmas music sucks balls. There is like seven Christmas songs, and just having somebody else sing it doesn't make it better. And the stations that start playing nothing but Christmas music on November 1st should be burnt to the ground. There is only so many times I can hear Bing Crosby followed by Mariah Carey before I want to blow my brains in. The only Christmas song I kind of like is Last Christmas, and that is by fucking Wham. Fuck you Christmas for making me like a Wham song. I don't even really like it, it is just so much better than a Backstreet Boy Christmas or whatever else pop shit they play now that it looks like the fucking Beatles in comparison.
Damn I hate Christmas, and its only December 8th. More on this to come, I am sure.
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