Sunday, October 05, 2008
Weekend Fun
Two exciting things happened this weekend. One made me laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh.
Allow me to digress a bit so that you understand why I laugh so much. I’ve never been big in to sports-watching them, I mean. I know the rules and how to play but they just don’t interest me enough unless it’s some big event like the Superbowl. Even then that’s really because there are hot dogs, chips and beer more than the game but there is something I like to do during said events.
I do not follow teams or their stats or their players. I could not possibly care any less than I already do about such nonsense. However, during a big event, I will find out who everyone else favors and I will choose the opposite team or opponent. Naturally, I get to hear a lot of smack talking and laughing, I see much finger pointing and rolling of eyes about what a dumb girl I am. You know the drill. (Drill, baby, drill.)
As the game or match commences, I hear that, “this is going to be a blood bath” or “they are going to embarrass the other team” or “what a fucking joke that line up is”. I sit quietly. I do not smack talk. I do not strut around and say such ridiculous things. I wait. Patiently. I endure the armchair quarterbacks and their comments and coaching, (as if the players can hear them). I keep my mouth shut when everyone else says how they would have done it, (yah, that’s why you’re sitting in that chair and not participating in the game-because you know so much more) and groans and carries on and on about this participant or that one.
I’m quiet as a mouse.
Here’s the fun part: Every single time I have chosen to sit down with a group of guys, (and sometimes a handful of girls), to watch one of these sporting events that I have no knowledge of, I have always chosen correctly. And it pisses those guys off like you wouldn’t believe.
For example, last night, I decided to hang out with some neighbors who were watching the “big match” between Kimbo Slice and some other guy. This is that ‘cage fighting’ or whatever the hell it’s called where they basically beat the living snot out of each other with wrestling techniques or some martial art or some such shit. I don’t really care for this crap. It does nothing for me to watch two grown men beat each other to a pulp. It does not excite me to see someone snap another’s arm like that. In fact, I find the whole thing nauseating. But, I decided to stay and watch because that’s all these people could talk about for weeks on end.
So, the person who was supposed to fight Kimbo Slice got sidelined because of a cut above his eye during practice, that very day. The groans from the peanut gallery were mighty. I watched...what, 4 fights? I think, leading up to the main event until finally, it was time for what they had all been waiting for. They showed the new opponent.
Oh Lord, you should have heard the sneers. They made fun of the guy’s hair, (pink dye in places), they stated that Kimbo was going to beat him senseless in less than 60 seconds, they said he looked scared shitless, (he didn’t look scared to me), they said all kinds of things as they practically orgasmed at the thought of oncoming bloodshed.
I said nothing. I was rooting for the pink haired guy that they were all making fun of. I wanted him to win.
So, at long last, the 1st round begins. Pink haired guy gets Kimbo on the mat, smacks him around a bit and in 14 seconds, kids....14. Seconds. Pink hair dude WON the fight.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!
I loved it. What I loved even more was the shock and then pouting that went on afterwards. “That was bullshit! That was such bullshit!” “What the hell just happened?” “No fucking way! That did not just happen!” (watching the re-run) “Look at that shit. He missed all his punches! He only got two punches in! That’s fucked!” “This bullshit is rigged! This is rigged! There’s no way! This is totally rigged!!”
Really? Rigged? If it’s rigged, then why were they so excited to watch it in the first place? Face it, your little Slice (above and below the eye), got beat by the pink hair dude you kept calling a fag.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHA!
They didn’t like it so much when I started mocking them and strutting that ‘my boy’ won. Man did that piss them off. Good.
I went home and slept soundly while they sat there, for God knows how long, bitching and moaning about the whole thing.
On to the next bit of fun:
When you are cleaning your house, don’t forget to pick up that feather that flittered under the bed. Oh, and don’t forget to scream bloody murder when you realize it’s NOT a fucking feather.
Panic, run around the room in hysterics and creep out, run outside, smoke a cigarette or two, drink some alcohol, keep wiping off the ‘germs’ and basically look like a spastic for the next 15 minutes until you calm down over the fact that you just picked up an 8 legged beast.
Good times.
