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Last updated: 7/27/05
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July 27, 2005 How Baseball, My Hair, and Disrespect Intertwine
First off, I fucking hate baseball. It's boring to watch, and boring to play (even if you're whipping the other team's ass. If that were the case, no challenge is involved, and the game will be 62-0 and bottom of the first inning. Not fun.) Ooh, let's hit a ball, run around in circles and sweat like hell, then grab ass in the locker room. Not my style. I find that similar affairs occur in many sports. Consequently, I despise professional sporting events. Wrestling doesn't count, because wrestling is sports entertainment. Meaning, it's not a sport per se. I don't remember when I became a "non-athlete," but I'm fine the way it is. If anything, I'll just lift weights, jog/jump rope and do a lot of stretching. For those of you not in the now, I have a splendid example of finely tuned athletic material: mi hermano. He's a great athlete, and deserves at least a cookie. Despite this, I refuse to go to any sporting event that he performs in (that is, unless, of course, he becomes a cage fighter or professional wrestler). During the past month or so, he was added onto a roster of a certain baseball league's all-star team. So he accordingly has practice or a game everyday. I attended one of these games, but I made sure I brought my CDs and my Gameboy so that I wouldn't achieve boredom. After that, it was on to Fresno. Fresno was a place of a certain tournament, where his team represented Stockton itself. I went for a bit, then was excused to go to my dad's house for the remainder of the Fresno tournament. The following quotes are responses to my declination of attending any sporting event: "Your brother and sister saw you when you had choir events. Why can't you go see their games?" "You know, the families of those kids - brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts - all attend the games. As a matter of fact, my customer went to see the game" "You neglect this family" "We're going to show him a family that supports him" "Oh, you missed it. The game was awesome!" "He hit 'X' homeruns and struck out 'Y' people" "...(blank expression)" "You suck" "Hey, we won" The following are my responses to the above quotes: "Your brother and sister saw you when you had choir events. Why can't you go see their games?" Let's see, I was in choir from sixth to eighth grade. So, that would make my brother and sister anywhere from 4 to 8. They attended my choir events because they were little kids, damn it, They had no choice but to attend. Unless they died or were at a friend's house, they were obligated to watch. I on the other hand can sit at home or go to my dad's house. "You know, the families of those kids - brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts - all attend the games. As a matter of fact, my customer went to see the game" I still wouldn't give a shit if my (musical influences) attended. I seriously doubt a fucking customer would see your own kid's game, unless this was a bribe, a lack of a social life, or was a really close friend. Don't try to feed me this bullshit. "You neglect this family" Sure thing. If I neglected this family, I would not talk to any member. I talk to everyone in this nuclear family. Hence, the above thesis has been proven incorrect. "We're going to show him a family that supports him" Yeah, except you forget to factor in the following: I got him into wrestling, I pay for his meal every time I bring him with me, I buy all the computer games he plays, I will beat the living hell out of anyone that ever tries to start shit with him, I play outside with him, I wrote about him as a report for my Sophomore English class, and there's so much more shit that I can't think about it. If this is insufficient evidence, do the following: 1.) tell me, and 2.) go fuck yourself. "Oh, you missed it. The game was awesome!" I doubt it. "He hit 'X' homeruns and struck out 'Y' people" Then he's good. He obviously belongs on this All-star team. Oh yeah, and my brother is all my stepdad talks about. I guess I never do anything to make him proud. Boo-fucking-hoo. "...(blank expression)" "...(blank expression)" "You suck" Yes, I suck for not attending an event that does not interest me. I might as well crawl into a hole and end up being a scraggly old hermit because I obviously am not a social person. "Hey, we won" What is this "we?" I fucking hate how sports fans refer to their favorite teams as "we." The fans aren't the team that scores points so obviously, it's the team that won. When I got back to my mom's house, I was not given a warm welcome. The first thing my mom did was kick me right back out. I guess she didn't know that I hadn't seen my dad in a month and that I wanted to spend time with him. And I guess wanting to spend time with your father is an ample excuse for being hated by your mom. She told me that I have a facade (not exactly, but from the incoherent "uh"s and stuttering I knew what she was trying to say). Apparently, this facade of mine is one where I appear to be a nice person and I gradually develop into a wicked malevolence and I blame all my problems on other people. She also told me that she doesn't give a shit that she and my dad are divorced. From this, I can infer that she doesn't give a shit about the fact that her own parents are divorced, which ultimately explains why we had my grandpa stay with us for a week. My mom talks so much shit about my dad that it doesn't make me sorry; I begin to burn inside and it makes me want to kill. My dad supposedly always blames his problems on other people and sees himself to be perfection. My dad is an old man who blames himself for everything and still lives with my grandparents. That's real fucking perfect. And I guess my mom doesn't blame her problems on other people when she is ultimately blaming my failures on my father. Don't ever pull that shit out on me. Why in the fucking hell would she despise the fact that I want to spend time with my father? Out of my seventeen years of fucking life, I have probably spent a total of three years and several months with my dad. She has no fucking reason to bitch about it because she has had custody over me. She's always said shit such as, "Seventeen years, and you still haven't learned" or "You need to fix your problems." Yes, seventeen years I have had problems. Since I exited the womb, I have been an evil fucking bastard. Why the hell do I need to fix my problems. She's the one who has problems with me, so if anything, it's we who need to fix my problems. damn it. My mom gives me so many guilt trips that they are equivalent to the Earth's mean distance from the Sun: approximately 93 million miles. Oh yeah, the other parts of this article were: my hair and disrespect. As you may know, I like my hair long. It reaches my lips, and I wish it were down to my chin. Rumor (or my Stepdad) has it that my hair is always covering my face and I am therefore ugly. I am supposedly a very handsome young man, but it is only underneath my long hair. I've been threatened with a pair of scissors, they've attempted to embarrass me in restaurants. I will not cut my hair unless I want it cut. They can do no more about it. They should be grateful that I have decided to slick my hair back for my senior pictures, regardless of their endorsement (or lack thereof) for it. So yesterday, I got lazy with my hair and decided to slick it back. My parents were telling me that I should be more like this (being talkative and have that hairstyle). Today, I decided to straighten my hair and have it cover my eyes. According to them, what I do is pretend to be a good kid then I go back to being evil the next day. Yeah right. They can't fucking change who I am, and they should have realized this when I started high school. I will be as "evil" or "good" as I please. Oh yeah, I never explained how my hair, baseball, and disrespect associate. I do not attend baseball games because I am evil. I have my hair cover my face because I am evil. Because I do as I wish, I am disrespectful. Fuck you all, have a good day. | ||
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