Today's blog is certainly not for the weak at heart. I'm especially speaking to my male followers and you know who you are. What I'm about to write might offend, piss off and quite frankly, give the male species reason to jump to their feet and release a mighty roar! And I don't mean a half-pint yell; I mean a "I'M MAD AS HELL (at tpg) AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT (her) ANYMORE!" roar...
So the whole deal is this: my partner got 2 free tickets plus parking pass to the San Francisco 49'er game yesterday at Candlestick; a gift from two very generous friends. Before we even managed to make our way through the hordes of beer-guzzling beasts that lined every stairwell and corridor throughout the park, we had to make it passed the 'tail-gaters,' who let me just say, are a special breed all their own. I have never seen so many obese, bone knawing/meat eating, booze-guzzlers all wearing red polyester in my entire life! You know but everybody was speaking the same language whereas all the words began with "F." The lot paved our way to the security check point, where we were directed to the female officer for "the frisk" (We didn't mind.) We had seats in "Lower-Reserve" and the reverberation, odors and Lynyrd Skynyrd ditties from the parking lots spewed into the stands as the game was about to get under way. Hundreds upon hundreds of dudes; let's call them "Men of Genius" were everywhere, like herds of wild boars in a jungle. They were screaming at each other, roaring, sweating on their hot dogs, throwing punches in the air, spilling beer on themselves and each other. ( I got one spilled in my hair, but the guy looked so scary to me, I told him not to worry as I heard it added protein.) These barbaric critters seem to like calling women words that start with "B" and each other words that start with "MF." The madening rote of their screaming, hollering and belittling jokes instantly filled me with gratitude knowing that I didn't have to go home with any of them. And folks, they can sure coach! Reminds me of this commercial which I leave you with...
Today we salute you, Mr. Pro Sports Heckler Guy.
They say those who can't play, coach.
Apparently, those who can't coach, sit 30 rows back,
shirtless, shouting obscenities.
(That's right, mother f**ker)
Thanks to you, our team is armed with game winning tips like "Catch the ball." and "Throw it."
(Shout it out now)
"You stink. That sucks. What a bunch of losers."
Not just cat calls, but subtle psychological ploys
to prod your team to victory.
So here's to you, oh sultan of shouting.
Because while there may be no "I" in team...
Thanks to you, there's always an "F" and a "U."