In my group of friends, the majority of us are either Giants fans or gambling/fantasy mercenaries. Unlike baseball, where there are no crossover alliances, our group in football sways to where the money or the fun is. In baseball, you cannot root for the Mets AND the Yankees. It’s impossible, unnatural and irresponsible. My kids will not be given the option of which particular pinstripes they prefer.
Football however is a whole other beast.
As a six-year old with a fucked up childhood I’d say I handled myself well in all my previous experiences. No matter the severity or the heightened sense of ridiculousness I somehow managed to come through relatively unscathed. Even if I couldn’t process what was going on I could deal with it. I would just add it to the list of shit I would tell my therapist in twenty years.
Time travel, however is a whole different list of shit.
Continue reading “Chapter 17 – W….T………..F”
The next two weeks were a whirlwind of activity. The Princess and Fred were in the throes of planning the wedding, down to the tiniest detail. For instance, they went back and forth for two days regarding how we should enter the Grand Hall as newlyweds. There were two options. The first was to charge through an eight foot, thinly sliced piece of Canadian ham. The second was to walk through a ninety-foot crispy bacon bridge from the entrance to our thrones. To this day I wished we tore through the Canadian ham like a high school football team coming out of the tunnel although I understand why. Did your face ever come in contact with a greasy piece of Canadian ham? It’s brutal. Now factor in her makeup and the amount of cameras covering the event. Realistically, there was no way it could work. We had to use the crispy bacon bridge.
Marriage is full of compromises.
Continue reading “Ch 16 – Somebody’s Getting MAAAAHHHWEEEEED”
Kids, last week I was having a fictitious conversation with a made up friend of mine who had a really lousy day at work. His main concern was the lack of respect given to him after almost a decade working at the same job. Where was the loyalty? Where was the love? What can anyone do when their job isn’t satisfying them in the way they were taught growing up by 1980’s sitcoms?
I listened patiently, tossing in the occasional head nod and reassuring, “uh huh” when he looked at me and asked what should he do? I thought long and hard and decided to give my answer in the form of a story, a story from my life. A story, that happens to be true.
Continue reading “Starita versus the German”
The space satellite Fred called a left hand lingered on my face for what seemed like five hundred and thirty-two days as my still developing brain tried to process what had just happened. I could still imagine the site of Queen Briana squirting at me and I was pretty sure King George was all over my face. Panic reigned supreme as the Danish crowd screamed in shock and horror. If you’ve never heard a bunch of Danish people freaking out, imagine the sound produced by a Chinese guy playing the accordion.
It was horrible.
Continue reading “Chapter 15 – Six-year-olds Cannot Drop F-bombs”
Goppygots Entertainment 