Archive for health

I Sometimes Watch Sports: Week 2

Posted in Disaster with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on May 24, 2011 by Suge White

image

image

image

WHAT THE FUCK?!?! The Red Sox are currently playing like a punch of adolescent half-boys with significant ankle problems.  Who cares if they won 8 of there last 10? The starting pitching looks good, at least what’s left of them, but the bullpen is a mess and there are a couple of good-for-nothing, high priced, hookers roaming the outfield. If J.D Drew and Carl Crawford were prostitutes, they would be the kind that will blow you in the backseat of a Buick for nothing more than a couple of cheesburgers or a tube of Herpicin.  Being a half game out of first place is nothing more than a silver lining for a storm cloud preparing to drive an F-5 tornado up your ass. Hopefully, next week we will once again be the greatest team ever assembled.But right now I’m scared.

Advertisements

I Sometimes Watch Sports

Posted in Great American Pastimes with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 13, 2011 by Suge White

image

image

image

image

Today, I’m going to start a weekly (subject to change at a drinking binge’s discreation) Red Sox column, discussing the teams progress throughout this arduous season. I won’t watch every game and I won’t ball wash anyone, except maybe myself, but I will let you know how much certain people suck and exactly why they suck. We aren’t here to proclaim royalty of our stars when they are doing well. We are here to criticize the everlasting shit out of them when they underperform because it makes us feel better. Who sits back and cheers for every favorably called strike? No one… unless they are really drunk. However, losing ones mind over a called ball over the outside corner is nothing short of the essence of being a fan. I am an irrational sports fans, Masshole none the less. My column will reflect that. So here it goes.

John Lackey needs to pull his head, and possibly the heads of others, out of his ass. I didn’t like his signing from the minute it was announced. I always suspected that he might be retarded but now he’s apparently an emotionally fragile retard. Calm down, man…  Take a Valium… Eat a cheeseburger… Hell, punch a stripper in the face if you want. Just turn your shit around and start pitching like a man or retire and go play some fucking softball… Jackass! I will put Bobby Jenks into the same category. Although he rid himself of that hideous facial hair once he started sucking the bag, he still sported it for far to long and therefore deserves to be thoroughly criticized for his poor performance. When your goatee looks like string cheese, you should probably do a better job of not having a goatee.  And he certainly hasn’t done that.

A Man Of Extreme Passion

Posted in Hero with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 18, 2011 by Suge White

image

“…this man was one of extreme passion.  His name was Tommy Heinsohn”  –  a great 17th century poet (whose name I cannot recall).

Watching Boston Celtics basketball is a beautiful thing on its own but that beauty is certainly enhanced by the wise words of Tommy Heinsohn.  His hate for the opposition is viseral, while  his love for the green and white is nothing short of glorious.  His ability to remain uncontrollably biased in the face of the most irrefutable evidence is the epitome of honor.  In fact, I wish I had that kind of support in my every day life.  Think about it.  Who wouldn’t feel better if Tommy was there to give his support when you put down the box of Fruit Loops and pick up the Cheerios.  Maybe I could get a few breaks from the police attempting to give me speeding tickets if he was in the front seat yelling at them as soon as they got to my window.  And I, for one, would be much better off if he was there to demand a foul everytime a girl tried to slip me a finger during a heated sexual exchange.  Even if the referee didn’t see it, at least Tommy will be there calling for a flagrant foul.  The possibilities are almost as endless as his loyalty.  So as you watch the NBA playoffs, remember that Tommy Heinsohn is a saintly figure that should be praised at every turn.  Remember that the scotch coursing through his veins is free of that Protestant taint.  And remember, his dedication is a shining example for every child in this country who wears a Celtics jersey.

That Is Too Much To Ask

Posted in Stop with tags , , , , , , , on February 12, 2011 by Suge White

image

I hate my friends. You know the type. They are the ones that want you to help them move or need a jump when their car dies. I know I should be more willing to help but can’t you see I have more important things to do? Your ill-timed phone call just interrupted my TV watching or an attempt to string myself up in a closet like David Carridine during an act of sexual asphyxiation, with the help of a local hooker named Sasha. Don’t you know these hookers charge by the hour? My friends should know by now that I will party with them, help them in a fight, or, in a pinch, help them apply sun screen to their back in a less than heterosexual manner (just to make them feel uncomfortable). However, anything more than that is asking alot. You want me to go to your wedding? Will there be an open bar? You want me to babysit your kids for a few hours? Can I give them some codeine and a shot of whiskey so they’ll pass out and shut the fuck up? You want me to give you a ride to the store in exchange for gas money? Do I look like a fucking taxi driver to you? So for future reference, unless you have a dead body rolled up in that rug, stop being lazy and carry it your damn self.

Put You All In Check

Posted in Shit We Do, Stop with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 4, 2010 by Suge White

image

I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve learned a thing or two about this world and the people in it during my short time on this earth. And if you’ve read any of my misanthropic musings in the past, then you should know that most of what I’ve learned has since been regurgitated from my brain in the form of pure, unadulterated, hate. Therefore, I think its only fair that I commence with the hatred. This week I was introduced to the idea of arsenic friendly bacteria and came away from this learning experience not caring anymore or any less about bacteria or arsenic. Who the fuck cares? I think someone needs to research these ‘scientists’ for any sign of a sex life. They say that this finding can aid our search for alien life forms. Something tells me that the last thing we want to see are alien life forms that are arsenic friendly. I have spent 27 years of my life trying not to get eaten by any of this planet’s animals and the last thing I need is another threat to my well being. I shouldn’t have to spend my time dodging gigantic lizard creatures that want to eat my brain and then bury their eggs in the rectum of my dead rotting carcass, all because some ‘scientists’ insisted on finding aliens.

Take It In The Face!

Posted in Fucked Up People, Shit We Do with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 21, 2010 by Suge White

image

As you may have figured out by now, much of my history is steeped in exasperated self loathing. Good old Irish Catholic.  I know right from wrong but I still do bad things and just hate myself later for it.  I’m like the guy working at a fast food joint who decides to blow a load in your food. Ok, maybe I’m nothing like that at all but I, at least, wanted to remind you that there’s a man somewhere out there just waiting to unknowingly feed you his “special sauce”. So be aware of that. Actually, it’s probably better to remain unaware. Awareness, in this situation, is downright terrifying. “My God, that looks like a mighty fine cheeseburger but I better not eat it in case Herman decided to make some love near it.” Wouldn’t we be better off not knowing?  I, for one, will not be inspecting every taco I order for signs of excessive protein. However, this also means that I’m at risk.  I’m taking my life into my own hands and possibly taking someone’s future life into my mouth just for the love of greasy and fattening mystery meats.  Do you see where I’m going here? I should inspect my food every time with the knowledge that I possess but I don’t want to take the time.  And what if I actually find some of Elmer’s glue smeared across my sandwhich?  I wouldn’t possibly be able to eat it, at which point, my idea of fast food will be ruined forever (not that the idea was too enticing in the first place).  Either way, this is where I get back to the self loathing.  I hate myself for not checking my food and I hate myself for being so afraid to destroy my mind’s view of minute foods.