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- the last time you read this, you were drunk:: Compromise Is A Four Letter Word http://t.co/V5KNn11L 6 hours ago
- Me Meme. Memememe. ME! OH MY GOD LOOK AT ME! http://t.co/Gfb4znY7 2 days ago
- Family dynamics in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles http://t.co/LI9LglV8 2 days ago
- the last time you read this, you were drunk:: Illuminti Freshness, Santic Bitches http://t.co/HerydZKD 4 days ago
- RT @XoXo_Carrie: #FF @nikkacostia @Alabama_Shakes @BabyBash @mechrt @SwiftStump @scumbagstyle @barelysarcasm 5 days ago
Tag Archives: football
Afternoon Quickies: Oh, STFU! Edition, 4 Realz
These last couple of weeks I learned that one cannot live exclusively on the internet, that one must interact with human beings, maintain something resembling employment, and take legally mandatory vacations in Nicaragua. I shit you not. But it turns out that doesn’t really matter, because while I was gone, none of you motherfuckers did anything of any importance anyway. GOP Primaries, CISPA, John Edwards, Lindsay Lohan playing Liz Taylor (just because they both had addiction problems doesn’t mean a non-actress can play a great one) – – it’s all just one big holding pattern because for the last two weeks the world has been utterly uninteresting. How do I know? Because instead of going out and tossing the pigskin around, you were all bitching about things nobody would ever care about otherwise: No Tards On Facebook Didn’t think mental retardation was genetic? Check out this poor kid’s mom. Brought to my attention by my buddy Cait, there’s an actually retarded petition going around, which has already gotten more than its requisite signatures, demanding Facebook not censor pictures of children with disabilities. Seems some woman posted pictures of her 7 year old son, who has Down Syndrome and is participating in his first Special Olympics, and the pics got flagged and removed. Because ignorance of how the world works never seems to stop people from throwing drooling mongo-fits. This woman must envision some poor bastard sitting behind a FB super-computer, individually investigating each of the millions of flags received every week, and making moral judgment calls on behalf of the entire corporation. And not, you know, an algorithm built into the servers that, so as to not have yeasty twats all over Facebook, just aces most of the items flagged as offensive to be on the safe side. I’m sorry, … Finish reading this sumbitch!
The Bitch Box, On Tour
Normally the Bitch Box is reserved for hate mail, corrections, terrible advice, death threats – the usual front-of-the-magazine fare. But in this special case, more discussion about Scumbag Style happened outside these epithet caked halls by strangers than ever happened within. Over at Osler’s Razor, the proprietor made a point of linking to SBS, as we had apparently published a response to something he wrote… the wonderful, exhausting, endless blog chain that I happily add a link to with this edition of The Bitch Box. He directed his readers to my response, as he enjoyed my perspective, as well as one of another author. A good, open minded fellow is hard to find in our angry, stilted blogosphere, and I thank him heartily for the recognition, not to mention the traffic. I wish to Christ I knew exactly what the debate concerned, but by the time I got there, the link to SBS was broken, so I could not find out what was said. It matters not, however, when you read his fans’ responses. Unreasonably interesting, says I. By The Duchess I felt like I was suffering for my own sins when reading the Scumbag article. Firstly the drawing of him scared me very badly. He had crazy angry eyes. Remind me never to invite him to tea.Or perhaps I should,to overcome the prejudice I have against crazy,angry eyes. As one who loves to write myself,I have to say,and he would hate this,his style is a combination of the divine and profane. And is original,which I count precious. Odd word. I know you don’t want me to discuss style. The article by and large made me sad. He sees no Love. To focus on the scapegoat metaphor instead of the Man,Jesus Christ,who he was and what he said is an … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Mark 13:6*
(In his game this week against the Patriots, Tebow threw for 136 yrds, hence the Biblical title. It was enough to get him a mere trouncing and just shy of getting the holy shit kicked out of him. Christians will contend that numbers only apply to Bible verses when they say so.) You guys, you guys. Either Jesus told Tebow to go screw himself this week or the inimitable New England Patriots are too awesome for God to handle. Perhaps both. What we do know is that Tim Tebow was soundly Old Yellered by history’s greatest QB. But that’s not the wacky part! Take a look at Tom Brady’s stats for this week’s Divisional Playoff game against The Broncos, Tim Tebow, and the pantheon of saints (not those Saints, dummy), angels, archangels, and lesser minions of God. If you take his Completion % and multiply it by his AVG, then subtract his total yards, then add his QB rating for the game, then add his TDs and (just to be fair) subtract one for his interception… Guess. Just guess. Or do the math, but that would be stupid because I’m going to tell you. 596.* * That is the very page Dumbledore died on in The Half-Blood Prince! (If that was a spoiler for you, well then maybe it shouldn’t take you 7 years to read a childrens’ book) Do you know what this means??? I mean, really? Neither do I. It could mean Snape did some awesome dark magic and made Brady have his best game of the season in a must win against those smug internet Xtian bitches of the previous week; it could mean the richest woman in Great Britain had some money on the game and had inside men; or it could mean fucking nothing because, … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Afternoon Quickies: You Got Yer Jesus In My Peanut Butter Edition
… peanut butter meaning, of course, politics, football, and bananas. This here´s the Jesus Toaster, which we think is… just great. For the pittance of 35 smackers, you too can experience the miracle of His Divine Presence in foodstuffs normally reserved for the unwashed ignorants of Central and South America´s poorer countries. Every morning! Because in no way does the ability to recreate, at will, what used to be priceless manifestations of God´s love cheapen the experience. For you bulemics, the Tim Tebow version is set to be released soon, so you won´t even have to shove a finger down your throat to stay thin and toothless all year ´round. (Christian Post) Tenesseehas responded to teen bullying suicides by introducing a bill that would make it alright for school children to harass homosexuals, as long as they do it for Jesus. Kind of like a birthday present for the guy who literally has everything. The idea is that not being able to call a homosexual peer a faggot in school, or tell him he´s going to hell, is an infringement on the Christian student´s first amendment rights. This is another thing Scumbag Style can throw our whole weights behind. Cast those first stones, friends, because, on religious grounds, I think you´re a hopeless pile of elephant dooks whose ignorance is poisoning the very gene pool we all have to swim in, and if you were forcefully sterilized, the Earth itself would benefit, not to mention my invisible best friend who hates you inherently. Also, you have cooties. And I will say this in front of everyone you have to spend 12 miserable years of your life with. Then we´ll see who´s shooting up with his mom´s Windex and writing a wimpy tear-stained letter. (SMV Nashville) After last night´s frankly stunning … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Hate Never Felt So Good
(Keep in mind, I abegan writing this article before the outrageously amazing game on Sunday in which the Patriots schooled Tim Tebow and Christ Hisself. The shitty part is, Tebow actually showed up to play this week, like he hasn´t since I´ve been paying attention. The article still holds true, but feel free to add a heavy undertone of smug, poor-winnerishness to the voice you have in your head while reading this. Or get Chris Daughtry to read it aloud to you in bed. He must be out of work by now.) When Peyton Manning died, or was raped insensate by mutant squirrels, or whatever happened to him so that he couldn´t play anymore, I admit I felt a little lost. I wasn´t sure my NFL experience would be as full, as magical, as fulfilling as it was when I had a clearly defined antagonist. Someone to hate passionately, almost for no good reason except that it was fun to watch him fail. And he usually delivered. Manning was as key to my enjoyment of football as the Patriots ever were. Careful what you wish for, as your mom said before she bit my dick. Peyton is gone, and the void he left nigh unfillable – – What´s that? The NFL has a special gift just for me? On Tim Tebow, Peyton Manning´s douche-pants actually look a little tight. Tim Tebow who plays like shit for three and half quarters, then happily divvies up the credit for a squeak-by win between himself and his fucking god. I mean, this guy is a real piece of canine fecal matter. While he´s luxuriating on his knees on the side-lines, his team is busy cleaning up his mess and pulling out another against-the-odds win. He´d contribute more in that position as a team … Finish reading this sumbitch!
A Disturbing Trend
By Dan Rice I have something to say. I know that this football season has been tough, and at times heartbreaking, for all of us. I’m writing this note in response to a more and more frequently occurring trend. I’m sure you’ve seen it. Your team runs an 8 man blitz against a team that won’t let the quarterback throw the ball. Your team throws a winning record away by losing 2 or 3 straight expected wins. Your team blows a 4th quarter 17 point lead to a hated rival. So what have some of you been saying in response? I. Give. Up. I give up on my coach, on my offensive linemen, on my quarterback, on my defensive secondary. I give up on my team. I’m looking for a new one. I have friends that like the Steelers, the Packers, the Patriots, the Bengals. I’ll just root for them. Heresy. Look, I want to be clear. I don’t like your team. I probably hate them. I want to see your quarterback cry. But do you know why? Because I love my team. Get it? Loving your team isn’t about having a winning record. It’s not about how many superbowl rings you have. It’s about losing your mind over every first down. Standing up on 4th and goal. Screaming over every blown call and missed opportunity. It’s about having your heart broken over and over and then coming back for more. Because if you don’t, you’re a tourist. You know what makes you a fan? Loyalty. And the whole reason you’re upset in the first place is because you really, truly, deeply give a shit. You hate that they didn’t win, didn’t make that play. You’re pissed because you care. This is my team’s history. And it’s not even the … Finish reading this sumbitch!
Perspective
(Tour Arizona’s scenic Sonoran Desert! Resort pickup! Van adventures! Shoot jaywalkers!) My fiancée and I have recently returned from a spectacular weekend spent with a recently transplanted buddy in Phoenix. It was my first visit to the land of John McCain, NBA Jam era Barclay, and leathery retirees so sick of people that they handily eschew Florida, where their grandchildren are more likely to visit. I am pleased to report the sprawling urban experiment, made of stubborn desert landscaping and held together with the glue of moral fortitude, still stands. I ‘report’ this because, if the spin mills are to be believed, that particular section of the Sonoran Desert has gone all Fertile Crescent with violent crime, kidnapping, and unabashedly brown births being carried out on any given street corner. Arizona lies on the front line of an invasion, and every day its people feel the burden that Obama refuses to shoulder. Indeed, what is it about the world’s deserts that American Presidents can’t seem to keep healthy of biblical crises? We exist in a nation divided, and a disproportionate length of fault line lies in the jurisdiction of an immigration law designed for a place that, if we are truly honest with ourselves, we have never even visited. In the internet age, it is easy to forget just how immense our country is, and just how misplaced outrage can get when dramatically different ways of life are happening a couple hundred miles away. If the concern over SB 1070 is that all Arizonans – not just the differently colored ones – are at risk of a domino effect, stripping the state’s residents of their humanity and civil liberties – – if that is the concern, we can send that worry the way of the Native American infestation: those blankets … Finish reading this sumbitch!