Prepare yourselves because I’m purging venom….
First up, Fox Sports and in particular, their NFL broadcasts.
I don’t spend a lot of time watching professional football because the NASCAR season is going on until next week on November 19th. Unless it’s the Washington Redskins (my favorite team), I can usually find something else to watch. I like football, but for me, I only make time for the team that’s been my favorite since birth. As soon as I popped out of my mother’s womb, I was issued a Redskins hat and a T-shirt.
I may watch some playoff games and if I find a reason to care, I may watch the Super Bowl.
But Fox Sports is doing something that makes me want to pick up heavy objects and throw them at the television…
Every time Fox comes back from a commercial break, they flash up the logos of the sponsors. But over to the left side, there’s this annoying robotic football player. He jumps up and down, walks in place and points for some reason, jumps up and down again, and shakes it’s head from side to side.
If I were a sponsor, I wouldn’t like it because it takes the attention away from my company’s logo. As a viewer, I hate it. I honestly want to shoot the television with a large caliber handgun, just like “The King”, Elvis Presley.
I discussed it with my parents and my mother hates it too. Dad didn’t really chime in with his feelings, so I’m guessing he could go either way.
If you know what I’m talking about, leave a comment and let us know where you stand on the subject.
Secondly on my bitch list… Vanilla Coke. Where the hell did it go? Did they stop making it?
Vanilla Coke used to be EVERYWHERE! I loved it! Just about every time I stopped in convenience store I would pick up a bottle of Vanilla Coke. Sure, there’s plenty of Cherry Coke to be found and that’s good stuff, I truly dig it, but where in the butterscotch hell is Vanilla Coke. I can’t even find it in the grocery stores anymore.
Thirdly and lastly on the bitch list… Saw III.
Kristina and I hit O’Charley’s over off Wendover for a few drinks before hitting the Carmike for Saw III. There were a couple of loud sales people from Terry Labonte Chevrolet who were yelling a conversation across the bar. I couldn’t hear Kristina so I leaned over with my ear next to her mouth and stuck a finger in the other to hear her and shut out the salesman. She pushed me away and shouted at the offending salesman, “Hey! You’re too loud! We’re trying to talk here! You buddy is down at the other end of the bar! You should walk down there and talk to him!”
I immediately sized up the situation and realized that this guy could take me easily. Sure, I would be able to get in a couple of good shots, but only a few before getting my ass thoroughly kicked. I was getting a little embarrassed by her assertiveness as well, but she managed to diffuse the hostility with a few jokes and all was well. There was no trouble and the salesman apologized.
I’m not easy to embarrass and Kristina manages to do it effortlessly.
We got to the theater, got our tickets, and found our seats. I wanted near the aisles because we had been drinking and I didn’t want to have to crawl over folks to lessen my bladder. But Kristina was adamant about sitting as close to the center of the auditorium as possible.
Saw III was the worst of the bunch! The action sequences were blurry and the story was hard to follow. And the thing that chaps my hide about those movies… When does a sickly and dying Jigsaw manage to find the time and energy to research his victims?
The guy gathers the smallest details about his victims in order to kill them creatively and to quote my friend Christine, I have to call BULLSHIT! If I were dying and weak from my illness, I don’t think I’d be gathering information on folks in order to offer them a new lease on life or a quick death. I think I’d rather chill out or squeeze in a few all girl orgies with Eugene before hitting the afterlife.
And during the movie, sure enough, our bladders were needing to be drained. I told Kristina that we should hold it, but she broke first. She had to go. I managed to hold my water until the end. It was like a tanker truck draining out and it was all I could do to keep the “Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh…..” from escaping my mouth. Because you really shouldn’t be saying things like that in a Men’s bathroom around midnight. Folks could get the wrong idea.
We went back to O’Charley’s and closed down the bar with the bartender Annette politely kicking out us out with our new drinking buddies, Mark and Vladimir from the nearby Red Lobster.
Then we called it a night. Tomorrow, I’ll write about shopping with Christine and discovering a great new restaurant on my short list of eating joints.
No comments:
Post a Comment