Friday, June 12, 2009

A Middle Aged Man's Phalange

The reason I don't watch sports isn't because "I'm a girl." I don't watch sports because big, sweaty men getting sweaty together really doesn't interest me that much. I don't find sweat and balls an entertaining combination. (balls as in basketballs, baseballs, etc.) (not that the other kind of balls and sweat make a great combo either.) (not that I would know.) (not that I'm against men's balls.) (not that these side thoughts are inappropriate and awkward in the least bit.) (not that my father occasionally reads my blog.) I just don't understand the male fascination with things you can do with balls. Or really just things men can do with balls. Sports should really just be deemed Men With Balls. Or Things Men Do With Balls. Or Watching A Man Try To Grab That Other Man's Ball. Or you could simply call it Gay. (not that I have anything against gay people.) Not only do men LOVE watching other men play with balls, they have parties in honor of the practice. So not only are you a grown man who willingly admits to watching men get sweaty together, but you'll invite your fellow male friends to join you in getting off on watching these men get sweatier...and angrier...and hotter. And then you act like it's a Man's Thing. Well I know the truth.

"Hey honey, me and the boys are watchin' the game tonight, so you stay in the kitchen."

What They Want You To Think: "We are so manly, us manly men, cause we like sports and beer!"

What They Actually Think: "I don't want you seeing me get a hard on over these men and their rippling biceps and skills with balls."

And that's another thing. Not only do they congregate to oogle over ripped men, they drink while they do it. And I think it's pretty well known that drinking often gives people the feeling of...horniness. So they're males. All together. All watching men with balls. All horny. Interesting...

You don't think I have a point, do you? Well I do mother fucker, and the point is that I saw Jeff Fisher tonight.

"Hey, that's Jeff Fisher!"



"The coach of the Titans football team, over there by Smoothie King!"

"Talking to those two people?"


"Oh yeah, I recognize him now..."


I mean come on, what would you do if you saw someone "famous?" Scream out their name from half a parking lot away, THAT'S what you'd do.


And yes, you would use their first name.


The couple he's talking to turn, look at us, and turn back to Jeff, completely ignoring us. Those pretentious gina wads.

"Well that was awkward."

"We should just approach him and be like, "Jeff Fisher?!" and he'll be all like, "Yep that's me," and we'll say, "Oh, I LOVE the Rams!" and he'll be like, ", I coach the Titans," and we'll be like, "Oh. Dude they suck," and we'll walk away. Then who'll feel stupid? JEFF FUCKIN FISHER, THAT'S WHO.

"Hey! He's getting in his car!"

Jeff drives by us, and we were prepared for whatever might happen. (Actually we were trying to think of something cool to yell but all we could think of was 'I LOVE YOUR ICE CREAM, MAN!" which, yes, we ended up yelling) and he waves at us, which, you know, was nice of the guy, so we're thinking, hey, maybe he's not so rude after all, until the couple he was talking to, who were following him to go somewhere, drive by us as well. And you know what that little fucker of a hubby did?


I mean, what? Talk about a wannabe. Sorry, bud, it's not YOU we wanna see, it's Jeff. I'm sorry if you're all jealous and pissy that you're just "the friend in Jeff's shadow" but flipping us off so you get all the attention that was initially focused on Jeff? Now that's just fuckin' desperate. It's one thing to have your dick in a box, but it's another to just BE a dick in a box.


Yeah. Okay. I did it, and it was immature. But come on, some wannabe Jeff flips you off, what ya gonna do? You're gonna step out of your car and call them a fucking bitch, that's what you're gonna do. And what kind of friend is he, anyway? He just made Jeff look like a total dick, which I'm sure he is since he hangs out with a 40-year-old man who gives teenagers the bird. I mean, I could report him for flashing. Who knows? A middle finger is long and thin, I could easily have mistaken it for something else, you know what I'm sayin? I'm just a teenage girl, I could have been emotionally scarred by that old man and his long, skinny body part. Seriously, a middle aged man's phalange? Not something a girl my age needs to see.

Fuck watching sports. Fuck Jeff Fisher. Fuck Jeff Fisher's friends. And most importantly, fuck Jeff Fisher's ice cream.

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