Damn, what a week.
The Bostonian Buttplug at my work is off his head. Twice this week I've asked him to keep it down, but it's not working. His Boston RedSox are tied up in the ALCS with the Yankees, so he's strutting around like he's at least 5'5". Then the Patriots beat the Seahawks last week so he's been trying to sound like he's a proud father, but humbled all the same.
"Yeah boy, we really showed you guys what Championship football looks like."
I hate the pronouns people use when talking about sports teams. "We." I don't remember the Pats ever calling a play that went to a 5'3", 219lb fartback with emphysema and Samsonite eyebags. "You guys." Right, like the guys from Network Security suited up for the game. Right after their 2nd French Bread pizza and 4th handful of Halloween M&Ms. Then again, we got f*cked into paying for the stadium, so I think each week at least one tax-payer should be allowed to suit up and make the average pay of the team, and then take liberties with a hotel concierge.
Man, who keeps ripping in the elevator? I think it's in the metal work now.
I'm out for now.
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
Geoff Lott: Comedian, Writer, Philosoteur. I am here to amuse you, not entertain you. If not now, later. If not you, somebody else. If you can't laugh at yourself, that's just fine, too. I will do it for you.
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