SOMETHING WITH BALLS

I’m tired of being treated like a freak, regarded as abnormal, degenerate, inadequate, unmasculine, either a dangerous dissident or anti-social.

So I'll come right out and say it:


ALL OF YOU SPORTS FANS ARE A BUNCH OF MORONS!


Apparently this past weekend was very important for you people. And dammit, you made sure that people like me would realize that. It was the most weighty thing ever, and you would not speak of anything else. One of your teams, Los Gigantes or something, won something stupendous.
Sweet Jesus, you've been creaming in your panties for four solid days!

Driving through the neighborhood late in the evening screaming and blaring your horn sure is a mature way of showing your appreciation of their great prestation.

Morons!

All weekend long, you "normal" people talked about games. Something having to do with balls. Couldn't go anywhere without neuro-typicals going all orgasmic over men wearing silly costumes. Play ball, tally ho, and whoopee!
Friday, balls. Saturday, balls. Sunday, balls. And now Monday, all day long, balls.
I already know what you will be talking about this evening.

Fercrapsakes!

I have never been able to understand what the entertainment in team-sports is. Yes, I suppose it is rather marvelous that they can run around getting clobbered for one or two hours. But in what way is that the achievement to end all achievements? How is that exciting? Do you guys also like to watch car crashes? Sewer floods? Maybe paint drying?

What about the stupid clothing you buy to show that you identify with the team? You don't even know them personally, but you want to flash your affiliation with a bunch of men who specialize in strange physical maneuvers and jumping.
I don't get it - y'all look like idiots. Badly dressed idiots. And many of you smell bad.

It's not like you are them. In any way. And they didn't do whatever they did for you.


MORONS!

So, henceforth, if you insist on talking to me about your men with balls, I will tune you out. Say snide things at your expense. Perhaps go have a conversation with your wife or girlfriend. Unless she's a dumb cluck into 'the game' also.
As I understand some women are - chiefly chunky white chicks with Stockholm Syndrome.

Life is far too short for me to put up with your homo-eroticism. Please go ball each other on your own time, and stop quivering with excitement. It's an unseemly public display.
Bally morons.

I do not care what the Giants did, will do, or even what you hope they will achieve. Nor do I know or care who they are playing against, or how well endowed they are in the package department. Screw them, and the cheerleaders they rode in on.
I wish the pox, a burning pain in the underpants, and permanent athletes foot in more areas of the body than you care to imagine on both them and you.
The colours that they wear or the beer that they drink is not something I need to hear about.
I do not know their names, I am ignorant of their likes and dislikes, I haven't a frikkin' clue what game they play.
You lot are morons.

All I got out of an hour long radio-broadcast yesterday was that a game starts at 4:37 PM Pacific Time today. The rest of it was white noise.

I'm normal. You folks are morons.
Utter morons.


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