Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Holiday Sneers

As you can tell by the title, I am in a foul mood. Who better to take that foulness out on than the faceless, mostly nameless people who read this space? All five of you.

NOTE: I’m not complaining about the number of people who read here. In fact I have always subscribed to the quality over quantity philosophy. There are no better readers anywhere on the internet than the ones I have. That’s a fact, man!

NOTE #2: I am familiar with one face that reads here and it’s a beauty. And, no, Hammen, I’m not talking about you. Internet pictures don’t count.

In order to get more in the holiday spirit I’m venting my frustration about everything that’s basically pissing me off at the moment.

Bear with me while I purge my inner demons.

- What is it about the Christmas season that makes everyone stressed and miserable? Over the weekend I witnessed such incredible rudeness while shopping that I stopped and sarcastically wished the dick (and, in one case, dickette) ‘Merry Christmas to you, too!’ while they quickly rushed away. Get with the holiday spirit, motherfuckers! Pushing past me in the Target toy aisle to get one of the 155 available Transformer toys .003 seconds ahead of me does not constitute ‘nice’. I’m nearly certain of it.

- SPOILER ALERT FOR SANTA LOVERS

Who wishes Santa was real? Like really real? There have been times (see above) that I wish he would materialize out of thin air whenever he spots douchy behavior. Someone runs over your feet with their cart and doesn’t apologize? BOOM! Santa shows up, bops the offender over the head with a sock full of broken glass and vanishes again. Actually, I want to be that Santa. Where do I apply?

- My youngest has had one of the ugliest head colds I have ever witnessed. He is manufacturing green snot like he was born to be it's factory. That he still doesn’t understand the concept of blowing his nose isn’t helping one bit.

- My eldest woke Monday morning and proclaimed his stomach hurt. I know what you’re thinking and I thought the same thing: Faker! The stomach ache was the best get out of school free card from my childhood. No way to prove someone was actually sick or just pretending. I got my answer when he vomited all over the living room. Having kids is great!

- Brett Favre’s out of control ego is back in the news. Yeah, you just knew he’d show up today, didn’t you? Apparently Sir Favre was upset with Brad Childress when he wanted to take Favre out of last weekend’s loss to the Panthers. Proving once again he thinks he’s bigger than the team, Favre has gone public with this disagreement to the point that the disagreement is becoming bigger than the actual decision.

Listen, Favre, Childress is your fucking head coach – for better and worse – and his main job is to put the ENTIRE TEAM in the best position to win as many games as possible. The game against Carolina was basically meaningless, a lost cause, and you were getting knocked around like a piƱata. It actually made sense to take you out in order to achieve success (say it with me) for the team as a whole.

Like it or not, Childress is your coach. He says, you do. I get it; you’re a competitor and don’t like being taken out but there are times you need to put aside your ego and do what’s best for your team. You suffering a concussion in a game you can’t win and doesn’t even matter is not in your team’s best interest. If anything you are undermining your own coach by openly questioning his decision making.

You want another ring to prove you’re one of the best quarterbacks ever? Then shut up, play the game as well as you have all season and put your ego aside. This is no longer about you (as hard as that is to accept). This is about a fan base so starved for something positive that they’ve embraced you as a long, lost son.

Do everyone a favor and start living your life according to one credo: WWPD? What Would Peyton Do?

- First we had annoying pop up ads, then we had transparent ads that were nearly impossible to find that X exit marker for. Now we have the most devious and annoying pop up of all time; the moving box that won’t stay still for one fucking second so you can end the fucker. Surfing the web is becoming reflex conditioning. As soon as you see the box you try to close it before it gathers up speed and blocks you from what you’re actually trying to read. The next step is going to be an ad that moves away every time your mouse cursor gets near it. Stupid programmers.

- While out shopping Sunday night (what? I don’t wait until the last minute with the exception of every year in my life) I got a call from my brother in law who works security at the TD Bank Garden. ‘Want tickets to tonight’s game?’ Well, fuck yeah! So I grab eldest (pre-vomit edition) and headed into the game. By the time we arrived it was midway through the second quarter and the Celtics were romping. But, we had GREAT seats right behind the basket where I got to see the Celtic dancers up close. They are cute!

- I’m nearly certain my oldest son no longer buys into the Santa myth (sorry for ruining Christmas for you, Bigs) but doesn’t want to admit it because he thinks he won’t get presents from him any longer. Shrewd for a nine year old.

- Wifey and I only buy ourselves stocking stuffers rather than buying big gifts. When you’ve been married for as long as we have, it’s tough to buy the right gift. In fact, it’s becoming such a problem that I’m having a hard time finding just stocking stuffers. It would probably be easier if Celtic games didn’t keep popping up during my shopping time. Whatta ya gonna do?

- My crazy sister in law (who I heard is still on that god awful raw diet) flew into town yesterday. Rumor has it she may be staying at our place for a bit which makes me all warm and fuzzy with blinding rage. I’m going to make sure we bacon for breakfast, ham for lunch and steak for dinner every fucking day she’s there. Go ahead and eat your stinking weeds and herbs. I’ll need bread to soak up all the blood this meat left on my plate.

- In yet another attempt to get me to quit my job, our company is now requiring all company owned cell phone users to move to Verizon or AT&T. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue except I just went out and bought a new fucking phone for the T-Mobile account. And I had to go through our New York headquarters to get it approved. You think someone up there could have said ‘You know, why don’t you hold off for a couple of weeks?’ No, of course not. That would require some sort of forethought and competence in our New York office. That, my friends, is in very short supply.

- I’m sleepy.

- Just got a call from Wifey, who informed me that my eldest has strep throat and my youngest has a sinus infection. Happy Holidays!

- Mike Cameron? That’s the answer? Mike Cameron for eight million a year? Were we bidding against another team for him? I’m at a total loss as to what the Red Sox are doing this offseason. Unless there is some other move on the horizon and everything up to now was just getting all the pieces in place to help with the larger picture, I don’t know what – if anything – the concept is behind the team being constructed.

That’s enough bitching for one day. I’m off the rest of the week, so consider this your gift for the week.

Oh, nearly forgot. I’ve made it to my fantasy football finals. I’m going up against the dude who has lost one game all year. Fortunately his starting QB is Peyton who may be resting the final two games.

Winner gets $600. Loser gets $200.

Enjoy the long weekend, friends.


Today’s distraction: Another great series of emails between the greatest father ever and someone with no sense of humor. ‘Without a concise set of rules to follow we would probably all have to resort to common sense.’ That might be my 2010 slogan.

2 comments:

Rob said...

Oh, the ever-present refrain of kids -- "my stomach hurts." My 9 and 7 year old boys must say that about once a month, and fortunately, our "buck up, kiddo" reflex has never failed us. Believe it or not, our 7-year old has NEVER vomited in his whole life. Never even spit up as a baby -- iron stomach.

Beach, you have to read Sweet Juniper's story about his vomitous kid. Funny: http://www.sweet-juniper.com/2009/12/gratitude.html

My 2010 slogan just might be "makes me all warm and fuzzy with blinding rage."

Clayton Bigsby said...

Santa's not real? My world is shattered. I wish it was December 26th already. At least it falls on a Friday this year. Makes things easier. Merry Christmas to you and your fam.