Yes, I put an asterik there. Because it should be there. Because the Patriots should not have won the motherfucking game and Tom Brady should not have thrown the ball to Jabar-motherfucking-Gaffney and Jabar-motherfucking-Gaffney should not have had the chance to not score the game-winning touchdown, preserving the Patriots undefeated season and all but relegating my Fantasy team, the Monkeys, to playoff spectators.Because the Baltimore coach--mind you, not even the head coach!--on the sidelines SHOULD NOT HAVE CALLED A TIMEOUT A SPLIT-SECOND BEFORE THE PATRIOTS HIKED THE BALL ON THAT FOURTH-AND-ONE AT WHICH TIME THE RAVENS STOPPED THE PATRIOTS AND ALL BUT WON THE GAME!
And Jabar-motherfucking-Gaffney? He did not have full control of the ball before he went out of bounds. For what in God's name do we have instant replay--booth replay or otherwise--if they're going to fuck up the calls when they replay them?! He did not have full possession of the ball! I could see that! Anyone could see that! He was juggling the blasted pigskin on his way out of bounds, two feet in or not! How much did the owner of the Pats, Someone-or-other Kraft pay the officials, both on the field and in the booth?!
I am completely pissed off. I want to break something, I want to juggle my dogs, I want to destroy...I'd tear my hair out, but I am as smooth as a baby seal, having just shaved my noggin earlier tonight.
Fantasy football...harmless pastime, joy-filled hobby...or life-altering obsession? Um. Next question.
Now excuse me as I savagely swallow a melatonin tablet and hit the hay.
Here is where a beer would taste mighty fine...it'd help me to forget. And that's true.
By the way, on the non-drinking front? A guy from work came over today, bringing a 10-by-8 dog pen that he wasn't using, which I ended up buying for $40.00. (It's in my basement, and I think it's going to work out just fine. The dogs'll have more room to move, when I'm at work, and they'll have the option of having "accidents" on the easily-cleaned cement basement floor. So...hopefully it works out.)
The guy brought the pen and he also brought a six-pack of Budweiser. Down we went into the basement to set up the pen and along came the sixer. "Go ahead," he said. "Help yourself."
I grimaced. "I'd sure like one," I said, "but I'm gonna have to pass. I'm, like, four days from a year without drinking and I really don't want to fuck up at this point."
"Oh," he said, "no problem." And so he drank his beer and I drank my beer-flavored water and all was good with the world.
Until tonight. And Jabar-motherfucking-Gaffney.
ARGH!
(By the way; one last thing: Jabar? Act like you've been there before, you cocky fourth-tier son-of-a-bitch. You should be thanking the crooked booth officials, not nodding your head, wildly gesticulating your skinny-ass arms on the gosh-damned sideline. Show some humilty; show some class, Wannamakah. You were lucky, you retread son-of-a-pup. Remember that when you cash your game check, bitch. In fact, why don't you donate your game check to some charity? Here's a good one: The Adam Bomb/ Louie Pit Bull/ Ollie Beagle Relief Fund. Nonsequential 100s would be fab.
Dick.)
--soreloserrantcomplete/backtopuppiesandrainbowstomorrow--
10 comments:
I turned it over just in time to watch the final three plays of the NE drive. I didn't think he had control of the ball. It looked like the ball was moving around in his right hand to me.
Before that I was too busy screaming (in the cyber space sense of screaming) in a sports forum about the news that Arkansas offered Clemson's Tommy Bowden the head coaching job. WTF?
I've basically given up all hope now. I'm sure he'll take it. I'll have to just accept it. I mean, as Bowdens go, he's not the worst of them, but still.
So we'll replace our evangelical egomaniac that just resigned with another evangelical egomaniac. Maybe at least this one won't bring his mistress with him.
I've nothing to say in regards to the pigsking, but on the sobriety--I'm so very happy for you. I can't believe it has been almost a year and I'm so very proud of you. I know I'm a virtual stranger, but to watch the tranformation you have made from the first email contact I had with you until now has been nothing short of amazing. Keep it up my friend. :) *hugs*
What ^ she said ;-)
I've been proud of you all year, but especially lately. Here's to one full year!
Do you have rugs for a portion of the basement pen? If not, I have a few you could use. I bet Lou and Ollie will appreciate the chance to stretch their legs while you're working!
Right, so the only part of this blog that wasn't in a foreign language was the dog pen part... oh, and the saying no to the beer part. I'm seriously proud of you. Technically, you're a stranger... but it doesn't diminish my admiration.
As soon as you publish a posting about women's figure skating, I'll totally be in there and rant. :)
(I wish I could say I was just being a queen and wasn't really serious but when it comes to sports, I'm shamed to admit that's your best bet. If you want to talk about jockstraps, well, that's another story).
Jay: Unfortunately--or fortunately--I'm not much one for college football. But I do know this: the Bowdens are too cocksure for my liking, and the patriarch seems about as honest to me as a three-dollar bill. Too, thanks for the backup on the Jabar-motherfucking-Gaffney rant.
Nan (of Nighthawk fame): Thanks, ma'am! =o) And I would LOVE to see those much-ballyhooed emails. Seriously. Then again, they're most assuredly erased. But maybe you could send me a paraphrase of the 'mails? Pretty please? With cinnamon on top?
Thanks, Heather. Much appreciated, Muirnie. =o)
Thanks for the pride, Melmac the Great. One thing about the rugs, though: they'll tear 'em up. I know they will. Also, if and when they "accident," the rugs will become soaked, the rugs will become nasty. So...well, maybe I could try it. The floor *is* pretty cold.
Articulate: Thanks for the kind words, sir. The year has been an odd one. It's been filled with ups and downs and highs and lows. (And, apparently, repetitive redundancies.) But I truely am happy that I can remember all the times and I am assuredly thankful that I still have my job and my sanity and my freedom. In regards to the women's ice skating blog post...I could probably do that. But I'm stuck back in the Katarina Witt time-zone and if I did post about figure skating, it'd probably just be about their skimpy outfits and their strong, man-crushing thighs. :-P
There are three evils in the world. George Bush, his side kick Dick, and the fucking Pats.
Congrats on the almost 1 year mark. That's a fantastic accomplishment! You should be very proud.
I happen to agree with you, Sugah. And thanks for the congratulations, m'dear. =o)
I just checked. Erased. Damn it, I read them not long ago.
But, I'll try to show you the 'then'.
Srry Nighthkwa, I am goin to be writin a weblog. Fo shizzle.
I don't know if I sent you a link, I was pretty tanked last night.
The slurred speech that I would imagine was going on in the real life carried over into the typed world in the form of mispelled words.
So very proud of you Adam!
Nice, Nighhtakw! :-P
Thanks for the reminder. =o)
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