Weekly Complaints

I haven't actually written anything real in a while and I apologize. I've just been busy. In my little vacation, I have had plenty of time to think about things to bitch about. Here we go.

1. Eli Manning

Maybe I just can't get over the fact that this guy always looks like a big pussy. He seems like a breath away from crying and throwing a fit, which of the two, the latter he actually does on a regular basis. Maybe I have all this pent up agression from when he was acutally signed a couple years ago and had a tantrum until a better team picked him. I think they should bury his ass in the Meadowlands. Now let't talk fantasy football. This guy got hurt (tear, tear) last week and now he is going to start today. This is one reason I quit doing fantasy football online, because pussies like this can screw up your weekend. I only choose to do pro-football winners pick, where you pick the winners. It seems a little more realistic to me.

2. Dirt Merchants (aka Crop Seed Salesmen)

These cock-suckers are the worst at work. A- they are usually messy and leave seeds, dirt, wheat, and spitters everywhere. B- Most can't work a projector/laptop and you have to waste time "fixing the problem" C- They can't read diagrams and usually set their stuff up in the wrong spot. I have spent most of my morning at work trying to finish my stuff and stay out of their way in order to get done and get the hell out of here. Has it worked? No! Now King Dirt Merchant wants me to sit in on his hour long talk and run his laptop- (press 1 button to start a slideshow) which he obviously can't do and won't pay extra for my time. Some mornings you wish the alarm "wouldn't go off."

3. Barry Bonds

So as of Saturday night, the record-breaking 756th home run ball fetched $752,467 at an auction. A ball! We are talking about red tine and leather and stuffing. Almost the same thing you could buy at Walmart for 2-3 bucks. This, to me, is complete bullshit. Had I caught the ball, I would have somehow contacted Bonds and told him that I would give the ball back to him if he would buy me a new scooter, a golf cart, and a lobster dinner. Maybe cost him $5000 at the very most. This way, he could give his record ball to his steroid using son some day. The best part about all of this? The guy that sold the ball couldn't afford to keep the ball because it added so much to his estate that he couldn't afford to pay the taxes on it! That's funny. He saw a ton of money. I saw a scooter, golf cart, and a lobster dinner.