In what some might consider a “lenten miracle,” 4 or 5 guys in my shop became Clark Kellogg in early March. No, they did not turn into a former college and pro basketball standout, a superb television commentator and a top-notch inspirational speaker. However, they did feel the need to inform me who would win it all, why half of my first round picks were completely ignorant, and proceeded to break down Southern Illinois’ zone defense. It’s hard to verbalize how much this pains me. I watch the same pre-game, post game, mid-game, post-post game, preview, and re-cap shows that you do, and it’s pretty much verbatim. Last time I took advice from a GED Grad, I ended up in Windsor with little money, one shoe, and a lot of regret. Maybe if they actually took on Kellogg’s appearance I could use a racial epitath in order for them to shun me. So for now, I will suffer.
Go Hoyas!!!!
Other that severe lonliness, obsessive masturbation, and compromised hygiene, I really don’t see any downside to being single at all. (That was not supposed to be sarcastic). I cleared myself of the ol’ ball and chain about a month ago, and I must say, goddamn is life good. I have more money, more weed, and most importantly, time for…da da da duuuuuh..FANTASY BASEBALL. Admist concerns expressed over the weekend from the good folks over at Usual Place of Abode, (though opinions offered after 15 hours of drinking are taken with a grain of salt to say the least) I am diving headfirst into this new and exciting way to waste my time, my employers time, and my money.
St. Patty’s day is a oft-forgotten gem if you ask me. I truly believe a day as such should occur once a month. I am no doctor, in fact, I’m not even that smart, but I have to believe that there are some definite therapeutic benefits for humans to wake up early, head to the bar and drink the entire day away, fully clad in green outifts, singing, dancing, fighting, and finally (what we will call “attempts” at) doing it.
After browsing through my camera looking at the drunken debauchery that transpired Saturday, I liked the pictures a lot. Because they are crooked, ugly, dirty, and we all look like pale pieces of shit. My problem with MySpace, and Facebook (other than the hours I waste stalking) is that these sites encourage the posting of pictures, so you get all of these “posed drunken pictures.” OOOhhhh, you got a gin and tonic in your hand and your tongues hanging out…you’re so zany! Oh my God, your almost falling out of your chair, but you didn’t spill your drink, you are WILD! Fuck you is what I say to these people (mostly girls) who set-up their pictures to ensure the appearance of a lot of fun and drunkeness. When you see pictures of me throwing empty White Russians glasses on the bar floor, staring creepily at poor young ladies, and pulling my weener out while weeping, I can guarantee you 100% accuracy of those events taking place.
The Revolution continues. Poor chap.
