Showing posts with label soccer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label soccer. Show all posts

In my Neighborhood #10 By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

In my Neighborhood #10
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx

It was my birthday the other day and I wanted to have a huge bar-b-que party to celebrate. I invited just about every one of my neighbors and some friends over to have bar-b-que.
I was cooking, I like to cook, and I have the griller grilling chicken and other stuff and the BBQ pit cooking pork and beef. I had the turkey fryer boiling mudbugs and vegetables. I even had a huge pot of rice and sausage jambalaya cooking.
I had been brewing beer for 6 months for this occasion. I wanted this to be a huge blow out.
Just about everyone was there and we where all having fun. We set up the stereo and we all took turns playing songs from our iPODs (not a plug).
Wendy played selections from Motorhead [Killed By Death], Girls School [it Turns Your Head Around], and The Runaways [Cherry Bomb],
Lemmy returned the favor by playing a track from her WOW album [Legends Never Die] and a couple tracks from the damned [So Messed Up] [Born to Kill]. Lemmy was not paying attention and his iPOD (not an endorsement) started "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley. We all booed and laughed, Kidd screamed I've been Rick rolled at a preachers house.
I do not know what the hell triggered this, maybe we were all having too much fun, or there was too much laughter, or just the fact Prince felt a disturbance in the force, but he just jumped up and started on a rant. He was screaming about beef and the terror that the cows are faced with knowing they are heading to their demise. That at the end of this metal and wood hallway is a guy with a pneumatic gun to displace brain matter.
“I do not think the cows are thinking quite that Prince.”
And he just keeps going on and argues and yells he starts talking about "the indecency of it all" and "the mistreatment" and "the raising of cattle to kill and eat! How barbaric"
blah blah blah “holy crap someone take the beer away.!”
Hammer stands up and says, “No I will tell what indecent is, it is you opening for The Stones in briefs, boots, and a coat. What the hell was that all about? Now, I will tell you, that is indecent! Can I get a witness??
“Halleluiah!” I hollered and high fived Pam, who was sucking the keg.
McHammer continued, "Dude there are some things we all do not want to see and your package is one."
Prince fired back at the Hammer-man, “Yeah ok I think I still have cornea scares from “Pumps and a Bump” on youtube bitch!
“Ouch!” I cried and I had tears in my eyes form laughing.
We laughed while he just went off. Jumping up and down, ranting and raving, about the injustice and indignity, the failures of our organs from processing meat instead of vegetables. This little guy standing on chairs and hollering was very comical.
He was screaming about the unfairness and there was more laughter when Kidd said “Hey John tell us about the word fair.”
I put the fork and tongs down in the sauce, "Fair is a four letter word starting with an F. This word is nothing more that a secret phrase uttered to say I lost and I want to blame it on someone else. Fair is what is said by those that do not practice and want to compete but can not because they feel they should not have to practice. Fair is a word for pussies and losers. Can I get a witness?” “Damn Skippy reverend!” Thank you. Fair is the handcuffing and handicapping to make all the little kids feel good and think that there is no such thing as losers.”
Wendy jumps out of her chair dropping one of her bottles of beer. Damn Skippy John, damn Skippy.”
Dusty screams for the loss of the beer. “Oh no you didn't, oh no you did not just spill beer! And then Dusty falls back into a drunken coma.”
We all laugh at Jeff and ignore Prince.
He gets more agitated and angry. He looks to Mc Hammer for something. Hammer checked his watch in an attempt at ignoring him and then "Yeah pastor do you have any more ribs?"
“Ahhh what the hell is wrong with you all.” “Eating meat is bad. Killing is bad. You are all going to hell.”
"That is enough Sheky!" I slap down the tools of a cook, mop sauce splashes out of the pail and the fork twangs on the table.
"You have been invited to enjoy food and drink at my house."
“And all you have been asked to be is personable, charming, and human in return."
“But” he stammers
“But nothing bitch! I have made tofu dogs, veggie burgers, soy by-product imitation ribs.
MC Hammer spits out his food.
“No Hammer yours is real pork I went running last night.”
He smiles.
“But I can not keep quite with the smell of meat and death in the air.”
“Suck it up bitch, meat is meant to be eaten. We have sharp teeth for a reason and that is because we are to eat meat. Now eat the fucking fake meat and shut up!”
Just then, Lemmy, who is a mountain of a man, if there ever was one, came out of the house.
"Hey do not go in the bathroom for a while..." And then before any of us could say ‘stop’ there was a little crunch and a pop sound, Lemmy froze.
Lee Ving says while laughing hysterically "Hey Lemmy you stepped on Prince and I think you broke him."
Lemmy lifts his foot like one would do if they stepped in something of the fecal group.
“Ah man.” He said, “Now the shoes are ruined. Damn it!”
I chimed in “Do not go back onto my carpet with those shoes on. There is a hose on the side of the house by the drive way.”
I tell my son, "Go help Lemmy clean the artist formally known as Prince off his shoe.”



Currently reading
Like A Monkey With A Handgun
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 3 December, 2007
Also reading
With A Mouthful Of Razorblades
By Rev. J. Sleestaxx
Release date: By 6 February, 2007

A couple games last night

You know when I umpire I looked like an asshole. I do not mean to look like an asshole. But there you go I am an asshole on the field that is just because if look like the nice guy I am the coaches all get outta hand real quick.
In my plate meeting I finish with;
"If there is a play on the field and you want to talk about the play, let the play finish wait for the call, ask for time, wait for time to be granted, approach the official that made the call and we can have a positive discussion. I expect sportsmanship from both sides. Any questions"
We started with some jokes about some other umpires being bad and that they maybe friends of mine and I said since I becomes an umpire I have no friends. Do not feel bad for me though this is good. I save allot of money on alcohol and food when I have people over for a party.
I told them I was alone on the field and that I would be making all the calls tonight. They said that was ok.
I said well because we all have no choice in the matter (I am an asshole).
Game is good second batter up makes a close double into a close triple causing me to run the field.
I look good I am in position at all times.
Boy tryst to steal second, good idea with on umpire, the catcher gets the ball there first and the runner slides into the tag. The glove with the ball is under the knees of the runner.
I call "show me the ball" the short stop pulls the glove out and the ball flees outta his mitt. "Safe"
The usual chirping about the balls and strikes actually the balls the strikes were quite.
At the bottom of the 4th the batter chips the ball into the ground in front of the plate.
It is now like a bunt and barely rolls up the third base side with a loose runner on third.
The ball spins on the line -ON THE LINE- a 2 and half inch ball is spinning like a top on a 2 inch line. Catcher and pitcher hover. Ball stops and they look at me. My right arm shoots out pitcher picks the ball up looks back and throws to the base but the batter is on base by 3 steps. Runner on third comes in on the throw to first and scores.
Coach calls time.
I expect a talk about the line.
He says "the ball came off the batters toe when he was in the box"
"No it did not"
"Uh YES it did" like duh big red truck tone.
"No it did not"
"Yes it did"
"No coach the call is mine not yours the ball did not touch the batter"
"Yes it did"
"I did not see contact therefore contact did not occur"
"Yes it did”
"You know what this conversation is over"
"You said we would have a positive conversation"
"And the conversation was positive until you said I was wrong"
"I never raised my voice"
"Neither have I yet"
"Now again this conversation is over and this is your warning."
"My warning there was contact and ..."
"Now coach I have stated that this conversation is over AND I have given you your warning
This is your second and last."
He walks away and mutters.
What should have occurred was "coach what the hell you want me to do? Appeal? Come on I 1 umpire doing 1 man mechanics and you want to try and bust my balls on a bullshit call like that fuck you! And tell that loud mouth fucking mom to shut the hell up. She can not see the fucking plate from there so can not tell little Donny that the pitch was a strike. Fuck off and here let me help you to the dugout with a swift kick to the ass."

I remember a time when I liked the game of baseball
The smell of wet grass, the throwing the ball with my son, the "anything can happen" feeling, the thought of how happy and proud my son is when he completes a well played game. Man the great life lessons he is learning.
I was probably the only parent that rooted for the team until the umpire called ball game.
I remember coaching and I remember the umpires and I never argued with the umpires. I knew they were not there to get me but to get the game right. Today coaches watch the sports highlights and think that the umpires are there to abuse. The kids learn that the umpires are blind, stupid, they suck and they are worthless. They could not make a call to save their lives, and the team must not only beat the other team but they must beat the umpires too.
Man these fucking parents and coaches are way the fuck outta control.
FUCK YOU!
The second game was good until a coach asked for time and then asked about my strike zone. I told him that the strike zone is not up for discussion, but are they outside?
You know what coach I will give you a free one. They are outside just as I have motioned through out the game.
But...
No coach a free one does not mean that you can ask another question.
He moves his catcher and wow strike. the kid already has a smoking fast ball and the other team is basically a rec team he could finish the game with 9 pitch innings and we could go home early but know you and that loudmouth bitchy mom gotta play like it is the world fucking series.
BLA BLA BLA BLA
FUCK YOU
FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!

Still Pissed Off

You all want to know what ??
I am still fucking pissed off.

If you do not like here move the fuck on.
No I am not going to give the pussies a moment on my board, on my stand, at my podium.
Henry Rollins does not. Pink does not. Dixie (traitor) Chicks do not offer a opposing view point when they decide to rant and rant and piss and moan.
Why would I let one of you whinny babies an opportunity.
Go fuck yourselves.
LOL
fuck yourselves
ROFLMAO
That is just what you need for perspective and good fucking from yourself.
Try having a couple of those against your will
and then a couple more just to survive
and then fuck yourself some more
and then have a nice day.

numly esn 6350-070820-923485-710

© 2007 All Rights Reserved.

Coffee drinking, soccer mom zombies

On my way to work I realized why my commute miles are added to the equation to calculate my life insurance policy. I am surrounded by morons, frufru coffee drinking, houty touty gas guzzling SUV driving soccer moms, and all of them are fucking idiots.
I know these people I drive on the road with them I may not recognize them but I know I have looked into their zombie faces before either as they pass or as they try to cut me off, the muther fuckers. Just because I make eye contact does not mean to take my place in my lane. Eye contact is not a secret commute signal that I want to slam on my brakes, so that you can make a 5 lane sweep across the freeway, to make that exit that you forgot to take. You know the one you take five fucken days a week but forgot this time because you were;
1.) Painting lipstick to that ugly slash of a penis receptacle opening under you nose.
2.) You were talking to your “down low” partners about the “poker night” this weekend.
3.) You were talking to the therapist about your mother and how she never loved you.
Hint: it is true that she did not love you because you were an asshole and you were inconsiderate of her feelings. You treated her like a table and you should fucking call her and apologize on a cell phone on a different freeway in a different state on your way over a fucking cliff you god damn piece of shit.
4.) Looking at the porn you have stashed on you iPOD.
5.) No other excuse other than the fact that you are a inconsiderate dick head and although you are surrounded by family now when you die you will be alone and there will be no-one to hold your old withering hand because anybody around you is just as selfish and just as much of a dick head as you.
When I honk at you do not look like you do not know why I am wavy my middle finger at you. Keep that look of “I just woke up and realized that I am behind the wheel of a weapon.” Mouth ‘I am sorry’ and ‘you have saved my life again [CWT]Straydog. Thank you.”
The middle finger is the [CWT] signal that I have acknowledged you, you exist, now get your god damn head on straight and get in the game.
Do not be a pussy and try to give it (the finger signal) back, that is not the correct response. The proper response is to get smart for the rest of the time that you and I are on the road together. The proper response is to wave admit that you lapsed back to your selfish childhood and now as an adult you are sorry and will try not to be such a fucking asshole any more.