Here's an older Myspace blog entry that I dug up. This one's about the virtues of tennis:
Apparently there’s been a professional tennis tournament going on all week. I was unaware of this, considering the fact that I’m not a complete loser. The particular tournament that's happening right now is the Australian Open, as in: “Crikey! A croc ate me racket and me balls!”
I actually sat and watched one of the matches for a few minutes today. It featured those two titans of professional tennis: Some Guy You’ve Never Heard Of and Some Other Guy You’ve Never Heard Of. It was then that I realized just how stupid the sport of tennis is.
1. Guy hits ball.
2. Other guy hits ball.
3. Repeat.
4. Are you bored yet? I sure am.
I mean, think about it. Tennis has got to be the crappiest sport ever in the history of everything. Here are a few reasons why:
— What’s up with the scoring system in this sport? You start the game at zero, but it’s not called “zero,” it’s called “love.” What the hell? Just call it frigging ZERO. How difficult is that?
When you actually score points, the progression makes even less sense. The sequence goes: Love, 15, 30, 40. What? Who came up with this crap? A drunken two-year-old could add better than that.
— They have “games” in tennis, but when you win a “game,” you’re not done. Far from it, my friend. You’ve got to win several “games” to win a “set,” then win several “sets” to win a “match.” That’s way too damned complicated. I’m confused just typing it out. I’m also bored again.
— Tennis matches are played on several different surfaces, including grass and clay. Why the discrepancy? What’s so hard about making a universal playing surface for every stadium? Is this beyond our capabilities as a society? Do certain countries still lack “grass technology”?
— While the match is going on, the audience has to be completely quiet. I mean no noise whatsoever. I’ve got a real problem with that. Sports—real sports—were meant to be enjoyed along with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a dozen of your rowdy, obnoxious friends. What’s fun about watching a couple of A-holes run after a fruity neon ball if you can’t make a sound? That’s not sports, that’s sitting in the Time Out Chair.
The tennis world takes this “quiet” crap very seriously, too. If a spectator so much as coughs during a player’s backhand, he gets escorted from the stadium and violated with garden implements.
— No one likes tennis. When’s the last time you went in to work on Monday morning and got into an exciting water cooler discussion with your co-workers about that bitchin’ tennis match you all saw on TV over the weekend?
Can you even think of anybody that you know who is actually a tennis fan? I’ll bet you can’t, but even if you can, the person who comes to mind is probably a complete tool. I doubt you even like this person, either.
How can we make tennis better? Well, I’m afraid it may be too far gone, but here are a few suggestions that would inject some much-needed life into the sport:
1. One word: landmines.
2. Goodbye, tennis shorts. Hello, Hammer pants.
3. Replace tennis ball with bowling ball. Replace tennis racket with bare hand.
4. During the match, require players to wear iPods containing nothing but Celine Dion songs which can’t be removed until the match is over. This really wouldn’t help make the game more entertaining, but it sure as hell would speed up the matches.
5. Put panda bears on the court. No reason, I just really like panda bears.
6. Make players wear stilts and clown costumes.
7. Instead of using a tennis ball, use a football. Instead of playing on a tennis court, play on a football field. Instead of playing tennis, play football.
8. Tennis matches must take place inside a UFC ring during a fight.
9. Remember the XFL? Do that with tennis.
10. Do everything that you normally would in a tennis match, only do the exact opposite.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
What Do Your Favorite Pizza Toppings Say About You?
Everybody loves pizza, and we’ve all got our own favorite toppings for those steamy slices. But what do those toppings say about you? Use this highly scientific list for a window into your own personality.
Plain Cheese — You’re an incredibly boring person, and you spend the bulk of your time watching The Weather Channel. The highlight of your day is when the mail comes. You will die alone.
Pepperoni — You’re a fun-loving, all-American individual—or at least you believe you are. You're actually a complete tool. You've got lots of friends, but ninety percent of them can't even remember your name and the other ten percent secretly hate you.
Sardines — If a slimy, disgusting fish is your idea of appetizing cuisine, you’re a seething idiot. Here’s a better idea: take all the sardines off of your pizza, drop them into a fish tank and give them all names, because these are the only friends you will ever have.
Pineapple — You need to be punched in the face.
Canadian Bacon — If you’re dumb enough to be fond of something with the word “Canadian” in the title, you should be tied to a chair and forced to listen to twelve hours of Bryan Adams albums.
Sausage — Simply having meat on your pizza isn’t enough for you. Oh, no. You need your edible animal flesh to be ground into misshapen balls and seasoned with the rejected spices of a third-rate Italian restaurant. You’re high society, baby.
Mushrooms — You’re a tree-hugging hippie douchebag. You spend your days spouting left-wing propagandist garbage about the harrowing plight of Indonesian humpbacked orcas and still wonder why no one returns your phone calls.
Green Peppers — See “Pineapple.”
Ham — You think “Walker: Texas Ranger” is the epitome of sophisticated television programming. There has been extensive inbreeding within your family tree and you more than likely have a third nipple.
Onions — The reason that no one wants to hang out with you isn’t because your breath smells like onions, but that you’re completely uninteresting. But just keep telling yourself that it’s the onions.
Plain Cheese — You’re an incredibly boring person, and you spend the bulk of your time watching The Weather Channel. The highlight of your day is when the mail comes. You will die alone.
Pepperoni — You’re a fun-loving, all-American individual—or at least you believe you are. You're actually a complete tool. You've got lots of friends, but ninety percent of them can't even remember your name and the other ten percent secretly hate you.
Sardines — If a slimy, disgusting fish is your idea of appetizing cuisine, you’re a seething idiot. Here’s a better idea: take all the sardines off of your pizza, drop them into a fish tank and give them all names, because these are the only friends you will ever have.
Pineapple — You need to be punched in the face.
Canadian Bacon — If you’re dumb enough to be fond of something with the word “Canadian” in the title, you should be tied to a chair and forced to listen to twelve hours of Bryan Adams albums.
Sausage — Simply having meat on your pizza isn’t enough for you. Oh, no. You need your edible animal flesh to be ground into misshapen balls and seasoned with the rejected spices of a third-rate Italian restaurant. You’re high society, baby.
Mushrooms — You’re a tree-hugging hippie douchebag. You spend your days spouting left-wing propagandist garbage about the harrowing plight of Indonesian humpbacked orcas and still wonder why no one returns your phone calls.
Green Peppers — See “Pineapple.”
Ham — You think “Walker: Texas Ranger” is the epitome of sophisticated television programming. There has been extensive inbreeding within your family tree and you more than likely have a third nipple.
Onions — The reason that no one wants to hang out with you isn’t because your breath smells like onions, but that you’re completely uninteresting. But just keep telling yourself that it’s the onions.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Soccer Is Stupid
A few notable exceptions notwithstanding, soccer is undoubtedly the most pointless activity mankind has ever come up with. This sport involves nothing but a bunch of dudes in short-shorts and ugly socks running from one side of a field to the other. There's also a ball in there somewhere, but I'm too bored to find it.
Soccer is no fun to watch, it’s no fun to play. It’s just…there.
First off, let’s take a look at the rules of this sport. The concept is fairly straightforward: Two opposing teams try to get a ball into a net, resulting in a “goal,” which is how points are scored. Sounds pretty simple, right? Well, it’s not. In fact it’s so un-simple that a goal is only scored once every forty-eight games. Seriously, a soccer game not ending in a 0-0 tie is one of the seven signs of the apocalypse.
It should be super easy to score goals in soccer. The net is roughly the size of a semi trailer, and the only obstacle between a player and the net is the collection of skinny wusses on the other team. The reason it’s so difficult is because of soccer’s biggest downfall: You can’t use your hands.
Are there any other sports where you’re not allowed to use your hands? I can’t think of any, but if there are they probably suck as badly as soccer. Man was not built with this in mind. God gave us all two hands, and dammit we need to make use of them. Not doing so is bordering on blasphemy, like saying: “Hey, God, I know you gave me four appendages, but I‘m good with two. Thanks anyway, buddy.”
Sure, we all need our feet. We use them to take us places so we can do cool stuff with our hands, like knitting and masturbating. Now that I think of it, what real good are feet anyway? Their only purpose is walking, and hell, you can use your hands for that, too.
Ya hear that, feet? You suck.
Another thing that’s completely lacking from soccer is the presence of noteworthy stars within the sport. I mean, can you name one soccer player?
There’s David Beckham, but he’s less famous for being a soccer player than he is for being the douchey pretty-boy husband of Posh Spice.
There’s that Pele guy, but I doubt that anyone born within the last ninety-seven years knows who in the hell he is.
There’s the chick who took off her shirt at the Olympics or wherever that was, but can you remember her name? No, it’s not Shirtless Chick.
That’s about it. Everybody else who plays professional soccer might as well be named That Guy, That One Dude, The Other Guy, etc.
Of course, I’m taking a very American view of this sport (and why not? America rules, everybody else sucks). The rest of the world loves soccer. They all go batcrap crazy over it. Every time there’s a soccer game in Europe, the entire continent shuts down. Security has to be deployed in such numbers that the stadium more closely resembles a military occupation rather than a sporting event. “Soccer hooligans” line the stands, wreaking havoc and beating the piss out of each other regardless of what’s occurring on the field.
And this is the world’s twisted and douchey idea of entertainment? No, thank you.
That doesn’t happen here in America. Nobody gives a crap about any of it. We’ve got Major League Soccer, but all the players make minimum wage and nobody goes to the games. It’s like the WNBA. Well…not that bad, but close.
So anyway, yeah, this sport is stupid. God bless America.
Soccer is no fun to watch, it’s no fun to play. It’s just…there.
First off, let’s take a look at the rules of this sport. The concept is fairly straightforward: Two opposing teams try to get a ball into a net, resulting in a “goal,” which is how points are scored. Sounds pretty simple, right? Well, it’s not. In fact it’s so un-simple that a goal is only scored once every forty-eight games. Seriously, a soccer game not ending in a 0-0 tie is one of the seven signs of the apocalypse.
It should be super easy to score goals in soccer. The net is roughly the size of a semi trailer, and the only obstacle between a player and the net is the collection of skinny wusses on the other team. The reason it’s so difficult is because of soccer’s biggest downfall: You can’t use your hands.
Are there any other sports where you’re not allowed to use your hands? I can’t think of any, but if there are they probably suck as badly as soccer. Man was not built with this in mind. God gave us all two hands, and dammit we need to make use of them. Not doing so is bordering on blasphemy, like saying: “Hey, God, I know you gave me four appendages, but I‘m good with two. Thanks anyway, buddy.”
Sure, we all need our feet. We use them to take us places so we can do cool stuff with our hands, like knitting and masturbating. Now that I think of it, what real good are feet anyway? Their only purpose is walking, and hell, you can use your hands for that, too.
Ya hear that, feet? You suck.
Another thing that’s completely lacking from soccer is the presence of noteworthy stars within the sport. I mean, can you name one soccer player?
There’s David Beckham, but he’s less famous for being a soccer player than he is for being the douchey pretty-boy husband of Posh Spice.
There’s that Pele guy, but I doubt that anyone born within the last ninety-seven years knows who in the hell he is.
There’s the chick who took off her shirt at the Olympics or wherever that was, but can you remember her name? No, it’s not Shirtless Chick.
That’s about it. Everybody else who plays professional soccer might as well be named That Guy, That One Dude, The Other Guy, etc.
Of course, I’m taking a very American view of this sport (and why not? America rules, everybody else sucks). The rest of the world loves soccer. They all go batcrap crazy over it. Every time there’s a soccer game in Europe, the entire continent shuts down. Security has to be deployed in such numbers that the stadium more closely resembles a military occupation rather than a sporting event. “Soccer hooligans” line the stands, wreaking havoc and beating the piss out of each other regardless of what’s occurring on the field.
And this is the world’s twisted and douchey idea of entertainment? No, thank you.
That doesn’t happen here in America. Nobody gives a crap about any of it. We’ve got Major League Soccer, but all the players make minimum wage and nobody goes to the games. It’s like the WNBA. Well…not that bad, but close.
So anyway, yeah, this sport is stupid. God bless America.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)