Touchdown Syndrome

 So here's the thing. I'm at the corner store earlier, trying to procure a Monster (not the little penny ante can, either, the big fucker) and something to munch on to help me trudge through an already exhausting day, and these giant fat fucks, (that's right, I said fat, go ahead and try to bust me for a hate crime, you litigious self righteous assholes!) in a display that is at the apex of knuckle-dragging douchebaggery, decided to clog the one and only aisle to the register so they could discuss... you guessed it... FOOTBALL!

 Really?

 Is that really fucking necessary!? Okay, I get it, this is America, and in America, we don't go out and play demanding sports, or engage in strenuous activity, we pay people gazillions of dollars so they can do it for us while we sit at home stuffing our faces with nachos, small pieces of mechanically separated chicken that come in ever growing buckets, beer, and on occasion, our own fingers (since we're not paying attention to anything aside from the big apes wearing the pretty colors on T.V.), but what, pray tell, is the logic behind parking your otherwise sedentary ass in my way to discuss and debate how aptly the team you prefer performed against the other team? It was like a damned poorly written skit; two sweaty, gihugic fuckers in sweatpants and hoodies adorned with their precious teams' logos like they're being sponsored in a knock down, drag-out, gasp-for-air-fest.

 If these guys were waiting for something from the deli, I could understand, but they weren't.
 If they were waiting for their counterparts to check out, I could understand, but they weren't.
 If they'd had the civility to move when I asked politely if I could get by, I could understand, but they didn't.
 If they had let me go on about my business without trying to engage me in their nonsensical debate, I could understand, but they didn't.

 So what did they do to incur my ire?

 They mocked me.

 At first, it was a simple inquiry as to which team I preferred. I informed the gorillas that I don't follow football, and that was met with disbelief and a healthy dose of scoffing. I shrugged. I just wanted to get back to what I was doing. Then the smaller one, let's call him Jabba junior, turned to face me, thus COMPLETELY blocking the aisle with his overflowing girth (yes, the same aisle, if you remember, that I was trying to pass through to get to the register) to ask me if I lived under a rock.

 "I can assure you that I don't live under a rock. I simply don't enjoy watching a bunch of jocks run around after an oblong ball, and getting paid millions of dollars to play a game. Frankly, it pisses me off. If you could do me the kindness of moving, I'd like to get back to work now."

 He asked what I do. I told him. I write.

 I was not aware that writing is such a mirth inspiring occupation. Granted, I do on occasion attempt to entertain, but not by the simple fact of announcing my livelihood. I was not aware that so many jokes could be made about writers. I was not aware that as a writer, I was beneath them. I was not aware that collecting disability was a far nobler vocation (and yes, I asked them, and that's what they both do). I was not aware that I needed to apologize for insulting football players by claiming that they make too much money to simply play a game.

 Why, if someone can tell me, is it still okay for GROWN FUCKING ADULTS to act like high-schoolers? I wasn't entirely sure I was going to get out of there without having to defend myself from a swirly. This is what is wrong with people these days. Forty-somethings can be bothered to congregate in the single thoroughfare of a convenience store and get red eared and bluster about whichever professional game player they favor, yet disturbing them while idle for any cause of actual importance is of no use.

WHY?!

Perhaps I am socially retarded. I just can't wrap my brain around the fact that people will sequester themselves indoors to basically watch grown kids get paid a fuckload of money to play in an oversized sandbox, then venture out of doors to annoy people who have lives with their ceaseless prattling, yet if you ask them for any sort of action, be it taking action to try to better society, or something as simple as floating the fuck out of my way, such a request is met with scorn and mockery.

 So, I'm sorry, fellas, for making you stretch the elastic on those sweat pants just a hair more. Didn't mean to make you sweat as you plodded over three feet so I could get by.

 I will not, however, apologize for not sharing your views.
 I will not apologize for not enjoying your sport.
 I will not apologize for having something to do other than sit in a lazy boy and yell at my T.V. while my defeated wife keeps her mouth shut and brings me more sammiches.
 I will not apologize for my opinion, and I will never ask anyone else to do it either.

 You want to know why jocks get such a bad rap? It's because of paint chip eating neanderthals like these.

[CENSORED]

Caveat Emptor

  No, seriously... what the fuck? How do people honestly still back right wing escaped lunatics like Mitt Romney, Newt Getrich, and yes, dare I say it, Ron Paul? I don't get it. Is it because the job market sucks? Do you really think these bajillionaires are going to help you? Have you seen their track records?  None of these people would spare a kind word to Red Skelton, let alone offer any substantial support to a REAL poor person. You know what they'll do? They might offer to pray for you, or suggest that you pray yourself.  The job market sucks EVERYWHERE! It's been sucking LONG before the current president, and it will continue to suck for a while. Am I saying you can't be critical? No. Not at all. You have the right to do so, no... you have an obligation to do so according to the U.S. Constitution (still one of my favorite pieces of literature). Am I saying you're better off fucking yourself with a concrete dildo wrapped in barbed wire and capsaicin than putting another republican in the office?

 Um... yes.

 Did you see what happened with the last one? You think maybe it's a good idea to recover a little, and maybe get this country on its feet before we test its strength with incompetent assholes again? I'd recommend it. 

 Look, here's the thing. No candidate regardless of the current political faction to which s/he claims allegiance is going to please the entirety of the voting age population, but there are some out there that are simply not a good fit if we, as Americans wish to progress and quell the hatred that far too many other countries (you do remember that there ARE other countries, right?) feel in the pit of their stomachs for us.We have an astronomical portion of our population in ill-health with little to no hope of recovery just on the basis of their income. They're too poor to be healthy. Do you understand how glaringly cro-magnon that is?! They don't have enough MONEY to get proper medical treatment! Meanwhile, the whole of Europe, and even that homogeneous, barely consequential little town called CANADA cock their collective heads to the side like a dog that thinks it hears a high pitched whine as if to say, "what the fuck?"

 Let's not go trying to throw out a guy who's trying to clean up the last guy's mess. That's not how you fix things. And let's not go screaming for his head, and whining because our incessant need for instant gratification demands we do so. There's a nifty little saying:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."

 Ironically, it comes from the oft-made-fun-of French. Are you going to tell me that those swarthy, suave, cretins know more about social responsibility than we do?!

 Oh wait... it seems they do. 

 All I'm saying folks is this: Put the fucking torches and pitchforks down, okay? 

 I've been accused (if you can believe it) of having too much patience. One of my all time favorite people in the world continually calls me a Zen master (and frequently gets angry at me for not getting angry about petty things). You don't have to be a Zen master, or "have the patience of Job" to see that we're in a better situation in general now than we were four, eight, or even twelve years ago (Jesus Hernandez Cristobal, has it been that long already?!). Make your decision wisely. Do not put someone in office who will continue to whittle away your rights because it affects their bottom line too much. 

So here's the thing:

I'm pretty set on a lot of things. Not the least being maintaining this blog. I mean actually maintaining it this time. Which means, of course, I have to find something to get pissed off about on a regular basis. Not hard, right? I mean, there are so many fucking stupid people out there is a wealth of idiocy in the world from which to draw. Here's the problem: Picking one thing. It's a pain in the ass not as easy as one might think.
Today, I've selected facebook game addicts. I don't mean regular people with lives and jobs, and all like my wife, I mean the nutters who sit at home behind locked doors in their parents' basements (you all know people like this). These people, I've seen it happen, will use a status updating app like "status shuffle" or something to update their status to something witty and reverant, or profound THAT SOMEONE ELSE SAID while clicking the bejesus out of some ville or another, then when they do get on to interact with people, it's all critique. I don't get it! I'm not immune, I've been known to play Castleville, and before that, Cityville, but did you notice the key in the phrasing? "Castleville, and before that, Cityville" One game at a time. One. What boggles me is that I get messages like "why don't you post all the stuff on your wall?" and "why aren't you clicking on my posts?" Here's a blanket statement. Here's why: I'M BUSY DOING RELEVANT SHIT! The villes are a time killer, nothing more. It's something to do while you're waiting for something else to load, or for a pizza, or a case of beer a drink.

This particular entry is filler, I know. it's just occupying space, and keeping this thing alive. There's no profundity in it today, save for this right here, which is for all you people out there who like to tell people to "get a job."

1st Amendment what?

Okay, so I looked it up, just to make sure I wasn't delusional. Turns out, I'm not. The first amendment states:

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances." 

THE RIGHT OF THE PEOPLE TO PEACEABLY ASSEMBLE!
 RIGHT.
 PEOPLE.
PEACEABLY.
 ASSEMBLE.
 It's the FIRST FUCKING AMENDMENT! I see absolutely NOTHING in there about "the right of the people to peaceably Assemble" between the hours of 9am and 5pm a long as it's convenient, innocuous, and doesn't hinder business. WAKE UP, PEOPLE!
The "Occupy" movement (to which, I will henceforth refer as "The Occupation") is a growing movement of people who are completely, entirely, justifiably fed up with a grossly imbalanced system. For what it's worth, I'd recommend occupying despite the plea by City Hall to move. What pleas of ours have they listened to? This whole idea of "Yes, you can protest, just keep it down." defeats the entire purpose. As for the naysayers, and those people griping about our presence (and I say "our" despite the fact that I am not camping out, because I AM the 99%) I'd like to see them survive without mommy or daddy's help. I worked my ass off to go to college, get an education, and I've spent my entire life struggling to get ahead because of an imbalanced and bias political system. I am NOT lazy, I am NOT "whining," I am NOT just sitting around crying that I want a handout, I AM tired of the 1% making their profits off MY blood sweat and tears, whilst keeping their own hands pristine, and I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE!
I passed by City Hall here in Philly two days ago to meet up with my wife after work, and you know what I saw? Hundreds of former occupiers... HUNDREDS, walking shoulder to shoulder down broad st and around City Hall. It was gorgeous. Counter-intuitive to this peaceable assembly, there were DOZENS of cops, in groups of three or four, every. five. feet. Aren't there drug dealers, murderers, rapists, pedophiles, drunk and disorderlies, frat boys on meth, hobos on heroin, unsupervised juveniles, impoverished people carrying concealed weapons, and disturbers of the peace to arrest? I mean, this IS Philly, right?
Yesterday, when I passed below William Penn, I noticed there isn't even a way for regular commuting pedestrians to get through the concourse. They rented a god damned fence to keep people out. Allegedly, there's "imminent construction" about to take place,  but I'll tell you what: This imminent construction is no more convenient than The Occupation.

Personally, I'm glad this generation is finally starting to wake the fuck up and realize they've let the political process go to shit for far too long. Hopefully, it's not too late to fix it.


~So sayeth the Mofo.