I hate to say that I'm a negative person, but the fact of the matter is this: Even when I have a great week, it's still all the little bullshit that pissed me off that I focus on. So, whatever the word is for that is what I am, I guess. Though I'm sure that word isn't negative. It's probably something like megamonstropolous or something. Or like awesome. Or whatever.
1. Fuck you Legos. Walking through the basement this week I managed to bury a tiny, claw-shaped lego piece so far into my heel that I think it dented my bone. And sure, I could be mad at my kid for leaving that shiv-like piece on the floor, but that's not the point. In my Legos days the pieces were big,chunky, garishly-colored and obvious pieces. If you managed to be blind enough to not see those things, it was kind of your own fault for stepping on them. Plus, if you did step on one, it might hurt, but it didn't bring grown men to near-tears, Barbie shoe style.
No, I blame you, Legos, for going way, way over the top on how intricate and cool and versatile and creative your pieces are now. Your fucking razor-sharp, invisible to the eye, bone-splintering pieces now are nothing more than mini landmines and a bane to my existence.
2. Fuck you reality television. You and your easy money can go fuck yourselves. You're going to try to pussify Bash Brother Kelly Chase by throwing enough cash at him to get him to partake in your ridiculous spectacle? Try your best to soil his toughguy image, Battle of the Blades? Impossible. I don't blame Chaser for doing it and going for the payday, I blame you for what I know is coming - Chase in a really embarrassing outfit doing some sort of ice tango. It's cringeworthy and I won't be a part of it. This is my Chase and always will be.
3. Fuuuuck you, EA Sports. It was bad enough that the NHL's Justin Bieber, Patrick Kane, was your coverboy last year on NHL 10, but following that up by putting the NHL's least interesting captain (apologies to Craig Rivet) in Jonathan "no, it's pronouced like if f-i-n-g-e-r-s was pronounced as 'finvers'" Toews on the cover this year is a terrible choice. In fact, it's almost as bad as deciding that one of this year's new "upgrades" is to include video review and disallowed goals.
So, you're going to "upgrade" gameplay by inserting the most boring, time-consuming aspects of the real game? Awesome choice, yo. Why not just include 70% more cut screen instead? Adding video review is almost as good as when Madden decided to add the ability to challenge calls and then make it so that your challenges were never overturned, even when fuckstick receivers caught balls with BOTH feet out of bounds.
4. Fuck you polical corrects. If Paul Bissonette's cancelled Twitter account can teach us anything it's that the need for people to make sure that no one says anything interesting at all outweighs our desperate need for comedy in this country. People freaked out and he got heat and eventually cancelled his account because he called a Russian player "comrade"? Please. If I got offended every time someone called me a "drunken Mick" I'd be fighting all the time rather than cashing in on free drinks at the bar. Wait, is that a stereotype too?
Meanwhile, you just know that it's some twitchy PR guy who caught wind of the whole Biz Nasty story who sent Erik Johnson a quick text to delete his tweets about his Vegas trip, his pictures from Vegas (including the one we still happen to have on file of him with Cuba Gooding Handsy Jr) and his Vegas-related tweets that may or may not have included fellow weekend Vegas-visitor Ms. Locke. (If I was @erikjohnson6 I think I would have DM'd her the appropriate info based on her twitpics... ask Icion for the directions if you're interested.)
Frankly, I wish these poor guys were allowed to just be themselves. It's a new world as far as information sharing goes, and these younger guys are way more keyed in to social media and the internet than the organizations they get paid by. They're used to sharing more personal information than the generation just older than them and everyone under the age of 30 gets it. It's all of us old fucks who are ruining it for everyone. We complain that athletes never say anything except for cliches, then when they do tell us something good they get roasted for the decision or they get a shitty phone call from some PR dick who tells them to delete everything interesting they've done over the last three days.
Let them be themselves. Let them tweet crazy photos. Let them call Russian dudes comrade (or call me a Mick).
Besides, pictures of homeless people are funny.