Sporty Spites

Sporty Spites

The only thing David Beckham can do well is kick a ball. Really. That’s it. Sure he looks good and he’s probably not an idiot or an ass hole, but the only reason I know his name is because he can kick a ball. Now sure, I know he’s married to Posh Spice, but does anybody out there think he still would be if he never learned how to kick a ball? If not, he probably couldn’t even have bagged Scary Spice. Or Ginger. And yes, I know Ginger isn’t even a Spice Girl anymore. It cracked me up when she left the band because she was the only one who was actually a spice. When’s the last time any of you put posh on your cobb salad? So yeah, David Beckham is making about 1 million bucks a week for the next 5 years because he can kick a ball pretty good. And that pisses me off. It doesn’t piss me off that he makes more money than I do, most people do and will continue to do so, but it pisses me off that sports contracts have gotten that ridiculously out of hand. I know that the LA Galaxy actually only has to pay him like $51 million of his $250 million, but I don’t care. Again, I’d like to reiterate that I’m not jealous, I don’t regret my life path (well, not for that reason), but it’s literally unfathomable to me. How much money is that? What in the hell is he going to spend it on? He’s apparently not even as good as most people thinks he is. I hate him. He’s probably an ass hole after all.

            OK, so here’s what I’m going to do about this. I’m going to raise my children to be the best ball kickers in the world. That’s all I’m going to teach them how to do. Or better yet, I’ll teach them how to throw an 80-mph knuckle ball. Fuck math. Fuck history. Fuck facts. If he can throw a decent curve ball both right and left handed, he won’t need to know facts. I guess I have to also consider the slim possibility that I may have a girl. If I have a girl, I’ll just teach her how to flirt and she’ll at least never have to buy a drink at a bar.

That last line may have been written with ulterior motives. I’ve decided I’m never buying a drink for any women ever again. Because they strictly use their femininity and our gullibility and desperation (at least mine) to their advantage and at my expense just to earn themselves a drink they really didn’t earn and definitely don’t deserve. Even if we wind up “dancing” (the use of this term to describe what happens at Brick Street and Stadium is an entirely different subject I’ll expound upon at a later date) for a few songs. The “dancing” can and should be considered a mutually beneficial exchange. No need for any extra favors or money to exchange hands. I wouldn’t pay you to “dance,” so why should I buy you a drink? In fact, a friend was walking into Stadium and I was already in there with a few friends. She said I needed to buy her a drink when I got inside. I asked why. She said because she had boobs. So did over half the fucking people in the bar. And I sure as shit ain’t buying drinks for all of them. You and all of them can kiss my ass. Go get David Fucking Beckham to buy you a drink. And I’ll bet he would. Ass hole.

 

 

Quote of the Day 2/11/07

 

“Barbaros Condition Downgraded To Glue”

                        -Mikey Conover (stolen from fark.com)

 

Now he was a REAL athlete.

 

 

                                    Kicking Beckham in the ball,

                                    Extendo.

 

 

Still Standing Right Here…

 

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