Good lord. Head is fucking killing me; I don't even remember hiring a kangaroo to rat-a-tat-tat my head for 2 hours last night. Ugh. Barely makes up for the sweet vindication I will have with Op next year when Brady Quinn throws 11 touchdowns in the first of his 9 consecutive Super Bowl wins. Will be fun rubbing his face in it; maybe I can get him to cry in front of his wife and son? I have a year to figure something out. Just got off the phone with The Barber, I apologized for grabbing him by the throat and throwing him to the ground at The Nest last night. He replied "don't be sorry, I got right back up." which for some reason cracks me up. And fuck David Beckham. I believe you people know how I fel about soccer. This stupid deal, $50M a year, will bankrupt the leaguue. Every 4 years we gotta hear about how soccer's gonna blow up, it never happens and it ain't now. “But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP), “the ladies love him!!" Yes. That's great. But are they gonna be shelling out $150 to sit a mile up in the bleachers when they can spend $1.50 to see closeups of him in InTouch every week? Hellz no. That's not how a menage-mois works, peoples. This whole thing will pick up 3 new fans, we'll hafta sit through weeks of "this is it!! soccer's taking over america!!" before it dies as usual.
anwyways. Now I'm starving. Been thinking a lot lately about putting deviled ham spread on italian suasage, wrapped up in a just-barely-melting fat fucking slice of provolone. We'll see. Oh goody, Brokeback is on.
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