The Wind Blew and the Poop Flew
I find it sad and funny that bad stuff seems to happen in clusters. I hate clusters, whether they're holes (Trypophobia) or hurricanes. Since my few readers prefer it when I'm Chuckles the Clown, I will try to put a humorous spin on current events. It won't be easy.
First of all, I am still in a dither over the signing of Michael Vick to the Pittsburgh Steelers franchise. I'm not alone. It seems as though the whole city is weighing in. Those opposed to him point out the various acts he committed before he was caught running a dogfighting ring in his backyard. (And, sorry, but there is nothing funny about this.) They have pictures of the tortured animals and testimony - from him - as to the ways in which the dogs who didn't perform were destroyed. I'm sick of listing those things - look it up if you want the gory details.
Those in favor of signing him think he might bring some wins and even a seventh Super Bowl ring - woo - flippin - hoo. They like to point out that fans didn't get as riled up over Ben-the-dick-Roethlisberger (I can now spell that without looking it up! - His name, silly! I have had a lot of practice spelling D-I-C-K.) allegedly raping women during a drunken escapade. And they like to say true fans will support the team - no matter what.
Wrong. While, I do believe people deserve a second chance for past crimes - I am of the opinion a crime reflects on a person's character. Many serial killers, for example, tortured and killed animals when they were kids. (This is why I keep a close eye on my grandson, making sure he knows torturing cats and bugs is a no-no. Hee hee - poor kid is afraid to squash a bug in my presence. No serial killers in this family. You're welcome.) And, I did protest Ben R's return to the game. I wrote letters saying he should be fired. To this day, I want to throw something at the TV when I see his stupid face.
So, what will the Rooney (see what I mean about being a fan?) family do? My guess is they'll keep him. I mean, who needs fans, right? The sad thing is, the ones they will keep are the kind of people I don't want to be associated with anyway. Go Bucs! or Jags! or Dolphins! (sheesh)
Okay, enough of that. I hear tell a hurricane is coming. Great. When we moved here thirty years ago, we panicked over our first hurricane. My husband sent all of his employees home, even though many of the old timers chuckled on the way out. We filled a bathtub with water (not sure why - I sure as hell wasn't going to drink it) and he went out to fight the crowds in search of water (in bottles) and batteries. I'm pretty sure he made us all lie in a heap and covered our bodies (kids were two and five) with his, in anticipation of the hell that was going to blow us to kingdom come.
We never even knew the storm had passed. Nothing happened. Not a tree limb or even a leaf on the ground. The roof was intact. Whew. We survived our first hurricane.
Thirty years later, I have new worries. What am I going to do with the enormous rabbit hutch? How do I corral five cats? If we have to evacuate, how on earth are we going to fit two Bullmastiffs, five cats, a rabbit, a hamster and my grandfather clock in the car??!!
I think I'll do what I did during the last hurricane - get drunk. Happy Trails...
No comments:
Post a Comment