As I fell asleep the other night a thought occurred to me. “Am I a clone of a miscarriage?” I must be. I’m too fucked up not to be. Of course this thought came to me the same night I watched AeonFlux so I’m sure that had nothing to do with it. But really, think about that. What if you were a clone of a miscarriage? Jesus, wouldn’t that be a mind fuck. You got the good stuff from the bad one. You’d be Arnold except Danny Devito would be dead instead of short and fat. Fucked up. “Hey son, the first version of you failed so we just copied that failure and poof! There you were.” Gee, thanks Dad. Cock.
Karma is a tricky bitch
Some people believe in it, others think its hogwash. I tend to be a believer, but only skeptically. The shitty part of it is that even if you do something nice, you may have to endure a bunch of bad things before something good happens. And that’s how we think about it too. “Oh, all the bad stuff had nothing to do with that one good thing I did, but man, now that I got a free ounce of Green Hornet for free, life’s allriiight!” Me, I get pissed when something bad happens after I do something good. I swear into the heavens and tell God, “Hey you, listen up! We had a deal and you’ve just handed me the shitty end of the stick. I demand redemption!” Usually lighting strikes the tree next to me, which lets me know he heard me. The worst is when something bad happens while you’re doing something nice. The other night, The Lady Luck was kind enough to drive a fellow drunkard home after she had danced the two-step tango with gang of Tanqueray. It had been warm enough to keep the snow that fell in a slushy mix of ugly and worse, and then it got cold, like a dead witch’s titty. Of course the slush turned to ice like it always does in this frigid, barren waste of a winter land, and the driving got dicey. The Lady Luck’s Icemobile did a 180 and slammed rear-end style into a guard rail. She had been driving like a decent Minnesotan – if you know Minnesota, then you know the un-decent assholes that roam the roads in the winter – so she didn’t get hurt and the car remains drivable. If I hadn’t been half asleep when she got home I would have let God know what I thought about the hand he’d dealt her, but alas, sleep was to powerful.
Pat Bush? George Riley? Stan Van Clinton?
So this nonsense in Miami with Stan “stepping down” and Riley being “the most qualified option,” especially considering he has “a responsibility” to the organization is total garbage. There’s always a bullshit cover story and company line when a coach gets fired in professional sports. We all know that, and at some point in time someone takes the lid off and we find out what really happened. Boy, I can’t wait til the raccoons get into this trashcan. “Hey Pat, you want some more attention, errr?” Now don’t get me wrong, Riley is one of the better coaches in NBA history, what with the 4 rings he’s got. “Kiss ‘em bitch, kiss ‘em!” It’s not that Miami won’t be a better team with him at the helm, shit he built that team. It’s the way Stan “stepped down” but “will remain” with the organization. Sure, I’ll believe that. After getting into a Dog Fight.
Pass the Mad Dog, it’s onto round two
No comments:
Post a Comment