3. conduct involving the commission of such crimes, wrongs, etc.: to live a life of guilt.
3. conduct involving the commission of such crimes, wrongs, etc.: to live a life of guilt.
It started, for me, on a cold-ass January night in 2011 when the Bears and Packers were playing in the NFC title game (I was nearly disowned and forced into WI rehab by my mom’s entire side of the family, all from Wisconsin, for posting a FB status in favor of a Bears win, but that’s neither here nor there).
Jay Cutler sprained his MCL and couldn’t go back in the game – he tried, and he couldn’t. Instead of praising Lovie Smith and team doctors for preserving Cutler’s knee, athletes and media members alike ripped Cutler a new one for not being tough enough to finish the game. That’s bullshit. Anyone with a modicum of knowledge of the NFL knows the Chicago Bears have an offensive line so paltry they couldn’t protect my two-year old niece. Poor Cutler gets sacked more than ANYONE and ALWAYS gets up, so don’t talk to me about his toughness.
Last weekend when RG III hurt his knee and continued to play, his coach was vilified for keeping him in and risking further injury to his QB’s knee.
Hello, people, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?
I wrote more about this over at Awful Announcing, which you should read.
But anyway. Now, today some jackass lawyer is suing the San Antonio Spurs for resting their best players during an irrelevant November game against the Miami Heat.
1) Seriously? You’re bitching about ticket prices when you probably bill $500 an hour to drink martinis while going over your mergers & acquisitions documents, so seriously shut the fuck up.
2) You’re not beating the Heat at home, sorry. (Even though the Bulls did it, yay!)
3) Is seeing fucking Manu Ginobili get owned by LeBron James really that important to you? (No, I don’t know or care if that’s even possible given their positions and me not knowing jack shit about basketball.)
4) I doubt anyone at that game truly suffered “economic damages”, as you allege.
5) Seriously??? Try playing four road games in five days and tell me how tired YOU are.
I love sports. I really do. You don’t want to see me when Villanova is losing in the first round of the NCAA’s. But come ON people. The expectations of fans should not be driving athletes that we claim to WORSHIP to play with injuries or when they’re just goddamn tired. Who ASKED you? No one. We all know we’re all still going to watch the games and go to the stadiums and worship these people for reasons I still can’t figure out (myself included – arguing Cutler has beautiful baby blues gets me nowhere).
Who died and made us the martyrs for sports of which we’ve never had to experience the physical demands and the people who play them? And who are athletes to question the heart and toughness of one another, PARTICULARLY a QB that gets pummeled on a weekly basis while the o-line is collectively picking its wedgie instead of doing its job.
But, I’m not bitter, just so we’re clear.
She forwarded me these gems last night and today, and per usual I invite you to please enjoy my accompanying commentary.
I would first like to point out that the first gentleman’s profile indicates that he lives in the UK, otherwise known as the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. So, not sure that’s feasible to begin with – but then you look at his message and it’s like – fail after fail after fail. Like other entries of this nature, this is a cut and paste job – grammatical eye-bleeds are NOT mine. So without further adieu:
Hello princess,I was just looking at ur profile and When I saw your pic I found my self looking at one of the most beautiful lady.
Grammar fail on like seven levels.
But I am not sure how come such a beautiful lady like you can be single and why? Are you sure you are for real? Basically you are the most beautiful thing my eyes has ever seen in my life.
Yes I am for real (or in this case, Susan is) and unless you’re a chimney, please stop blowing smoke.
And now a bit about me! I do work as a police officer and have another job as a night hotel manager and I do study aviation to become a pilot.
Grammar fail x2, possibly x3.
And I am single for over a year now and no kids unfortunately.
Yeah, so here’s the thing – it is great that you want kids, but being upset about not having them yet is not something to throw in an initial message on an online dating site.
I love travelling as I have been around over 22 countries so far. I hope u have a good day and hope to hear back from you soon.
Sorry, Nemo, but I don’t think she’s going to try and find you.
Next up, we have the gentleman who messaged her four times in a row and never got a response to any of them:
I have had a really hard time trying to grasp Friday’s events at Sandy Hook Elementary School.
My cousin and best friend are teachers. My nephew and niece are in the same age range. It’s impossible for me to try to process what happened and I am not even directly effected. My heart aches for those families who lost a loved one. Like, what did a 6-year old child ever do to this shooter? No matter the motive, it will never turn out okay, it will never make sense, it will never hurt less for these families.
Reading about the victims and the teacher who died saving students makes me even sadder. I know there is nothing I can do to lessen the pain for these families, but I wish there was.
I think we all know how I feel about Twilight.
So when I saw this earlier today, I thought to myself, “well, we’ve reached the limit of inane ways to try to be the characters in the book, specifically Bella.”
Let’s forget for one moment that the ring is hideous, why is BED, BATH AND BEYOND selling them?
And now Yahoo! has a story about a 24-year old planning her wedding to a FUCKING CARDBOARD CUTOUT OF ROBERT PATTINSON.
Apparently the wedding is part of her thesis, but it’s giving me a giant headache. Although, maybe she’s the smartest person in the world, writing a thesis about how we view female fandom by doing the batshit craziest thing possible and letting us all react accordingly.
Here is what she word vomited at us (via Complex):
“… [W]e decided to film for the wedding,” she says. “And that was a decision that [Kris Humphries] and I made together. But I think that, with any decisions in life [brace yourselves], like, I spoke to a girl today who had cancer and we were talking about how this is such a hard thing for her, but it taught her a big lesson on who her friends are and so much about life. She’s 18. And I was like, that’s how I feel.”
Really? Do you have ANY idea what it’s like living with cancer? This should ESPECIALLY not come out of her pie hole because her dad died of cancer and she should know better. Yes, divorce is painful and awful and I’m sure DOES teach you who your friends are. But don’t play the cancer card when 1) your fake marriage lasted for less than three months and 2) it’s not actually life threatening.
She should know better. Who is her publicist? Someone needs to give that girl a lesson in what not to say, stat.
Then we have everyone’s favorite Train Wreck, Lindsay Lohan, equating “owning” a Birkin bag and Mac as “fighting to live your dreams. No, really. Check it out:
I use the word “owning” loosely because she probably stole both of them. Since she can’t even be bothered to show up on time to film her one scene for Scary Movie 5, how the hell can she afford a $30,000 purse (which, by the way, looks like it was dipped in a bucket of Pepto Bismol and glitter)?
I know that writing about the idiocy of these people won’t make them go away, but I wish they would. Kim is a no-talent ass clown and Lindsay is a delusional, coked-out whore in desperate need of a solid year or longer of intense rehab and therapy.
I wish they would both just SHUT UP AND GO AWAY.
Twilight – bad writing, shitty concept, author is a multi-millionaire
50 Shades of Grey – Twilight fan fiction, which = worse writing than Twilight, masochistic porn, author is multi-millionaire
People & US Weekly’s incessant coverage of Kristen Stewart cheating on Robert Pattison and the ensuing fallout – who cares?
The fact that 50 Shades of Grey is going to be a movie. If I wanted to watch porn, I could find it online for free (so I am told by just about every dude I know).
ESPN’s Teboner and how they cover all things Jets now, regardless of a little thing called the OLYMPICS.
Matt Snyder, CBSSports.com Baseball Blogger giving the AL Central to the Tigers and the two wild cards to the Rangers and Athletics. Why is no one giving the White Sox a shot? Yes, the bullpen can be shaky at times, but I think the talent is there. Plus we’ve owned the Rangers this season, but then again, what do I know?
Yesterday was a lovely day – you know, lovely in the sense that I had to run 11-miles in 400% humidity and felt nauseous and then went to meet up with Melissa to watch Matt’s softball game in the heat.
The team’s bar sponsor, Cody’s, is a little hole-in-the wall type place in Lakeview. They do not accept credit cards and they don’t serve food, but you can order in from anywhere, or in yesterday’s instance, we all brought food for a potluck, and Matt grilled chicken.
The other thing about Cody’s is that they allow dogs. A bunch of people on the team had dogs and brought them – they were all awesome, super well behaved and adorable.
When we were sitting and watching the game, a guy walks by us with his dog, who took an interest in one of the other ones. He was in a sling, which has to be a pain in the ass when you’re walking your dog, but I digress.
Shortly after we got to Cody’s, the guy with the sling also showed up. I remembered thinking he was cute, so I took this as a sign to at least chat with him.
We talked for a while, and bless Melissa’s heart, she was trying to figure out if he was single. His name is James and he had just moved into the building across the street from Cody’s and was killing time waiting to meet up with a friend.
At one point, he was talking to the owner of the bar, Gene (I think). I waved over the bartender and pointed at James and said I wanted to buy his next drink. She nods. James then orders his drink, and she makes him pay for it. I was sort of like WTF, and wanted to say something, until I realized that when she nodded at me she also said, “for Gene?” but quietly enough that I thought she said James. Oops. My bad.
A couple of minutes later she says to Gene, “this young lady bought you a drink.”
James says, “Wow, that was really nice of you.” And of course through gritted teeth I was like, “I know, right?” Thank GOD Melissa has been there enough to know who I bought the drink for and that he was the owner and not some random 50-year-old dude, because that would be creepy. I could at least play it off like I was a regular (I’m not) buying the owner a drink.
In any case – not the end of the world, but my plan to be this really cool chick completely backfired.
At one point, James was getting ready to leave, and while he was outside saying goodbye to people, I did something I haven’t done since 2003: Wrote my number down on a bar napkin.
He came back inside and asked me if I’d be back anytime soon and I said I wasn’t sure, but maybe. I mean, really? Can’t you just ask me for my # if you want to see me again? So I was like, “Well actually here’s my number.” It was super awkward, let’s be honest, because if he wanted it, he would have asked for it.
So, I am not going to hold my breath and wait for his call/text, and now I have to sit here wondering how cool it would have been if the buying him a drink thing had actually worked.
I was just on DListed and there is a post about celebrities under 30 who made the most money from May 2011-May 2012 (put together by Forbes, of course). The full list is below, and I copied and pasted from DListed because he has the BEST nicknames for people:
1. Taylor Squint, 22 – $57 million
2. The Lesbeaver, 18 – $55 million
3. RiRi, 24 – $53 million
4. Lady CaCa, 26 – $52 million
5. Katy Perry, 27 – $45 million
6. Adele, 24 – $35 million
7. Kristen Stewart, 22 – $34.5 million
8. Lil Wayne, 29 – $27 million
9. Taylor Lautner, 20 – $26.5 million
9. RPattz, 26 – $26.5 million
Justin Bieber made $55 million dollars in a year? Really?
That’s a lot of eenie meenie miney mo loving.
Also – this is beyond depressing. I’m older than all of these people and my net worth is in the negatives, I’m fairly certain. When people who at one point or another make this much money and then blow it all on heroin and hookers only to become broke and forced to headline a ten-year old’s birthday party just so they can pay the rent in their cracked out studio get absolutely ZERO sympathy from me. $55 million in a year is enough to set you for life. So how celebrities like this wind up broke is beyond me.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to cry at my desk.
The first time I started a blog was during my senior year of college when I was procrastinating on writing some paper or another. I’ve been blogging (very sporadically) ever since across multiple different Blogger and Word Press sites, but without any sort of consistency.
One day, when I apparently had WAY too much free time, I basically went through all of them, deleted them, and put my favorite posts into yet ANOTHER blog, which I was going through earlier to find things to use for the book.
So, I am re-posting one of my favorites, with permission from myself.
How to survive without a cell phone for ONE WEEK (originally posted Dec. 30, 2006)
Before I even got to the San Diego airport on Dec. 22, I realized I had left my cell phone at home and would have to survive a whole week without it. I hope none of you ever suffer the same ordeal, but if you do, I have come up with a little guide on how to survive, should you ever find yourself in such a horrifying position.
1) Upon arriving at destination without cell phone, get to nearest computer. Immediately post My Space bulletin (ed note: Facebook status) and/or send mass e-mail alerting all friends of predicament. Be sure to use whichever method will hit the most people, specifically the people you want to see the most.
2) When one specific person who you are hoping to see but are trying to play it cool with does not respond to bulletin and/or e-mail, send My Space message (ed note: Facebook message) with any and all numbers where they can reach you.
3) Spend holiday/quality time with family and hope person calls/My Spaces/E-mails (ed note: Facebooks) you.
4) Go out with mutual acquaintance in hope of running in to aforementioned person. Get extremely drunk to dull the pain of getting blown off (again again again).
5) Spend entire next day hungover, miserable, traveling to Boston/Providence with your mom’s cell phone that you have taken for the week, receiving few to no phone calls, nothing from aforementioned person.
6) Check My Space (ed note: FACEBOOK, MY GOD, FACEBOOK NOT MY SPACE). Oh wait, this was back in 2006 when MySpace was still relevant. Carry on.), e-mail incessantly. Continue to not hear from person “x,” refuse to accept reality of situation by drinking lots of wine.
7) Sign on to AIM and talk to a different mutual friend — mention you have not heard from aforementioned person. Wait for friend to suggest plans. Continue to wait until you realize, “boy I need to get a life.”
8) Resign yourself to the fact that you will not see this person. Go out to the same bar your last night in town, run in to the same people, keep looking at the door, realize you are a loser.
9) On return flight, run into yet another mutual acquaintance who saw person you wanted to see but didn’t see. This confirms they are alive and able to make/keep plans with other people besides you. Remind yourself you need to re-read, “He’s Just Not That Into You.”
10) Spend three plane rides and two layovers reading/sulking. Call best friend with prepaid phone card to bitch.
11) As you are writing this list, person IM’s you to ask if you are still in town and makes up lie about looking for you in bar. Want to throw yourself off bridge.
Ahh, memories. The person I was trying to meet up with, we’ll call him Michael Myers, was a friend from high school, who is now engaged to a person from high school that is not me.
Michael Myers was a pro at feeding me bullshit – he even had the audacity to come to Chicago a few years ago and NOT CALL ME but CLAIM he had call me. Um, WTF, dude. Just don’t even bother telling me you’re here so that I rearrange my entire schedule for three days only to end up sitting by myself on my couch watching the Golden Girls (okay maybe I’d be doing that anyway…but still).
He definitely mastered the I-am-dying-to-see-you-I’m-scheduling-a-trip-to-see-you-when-you’re-home-I’m-spending-all-my-time-with-you act. And for the record, I have not seen him since…2000. Maybe 2001. And that was when I ran into him at the grocery store when he was with his then-girlfriend’s mother (if ever I had an arch-nemesis, that hoe bag was it…the girlfriend, not the mom).
As Katy Perry says so nicely, “shut up and put your money where your mouth is.”