Stuff That Sucks: Volume II


It’s going to happen and there’s nothing I can do about it.  The Cardinals come to town this weekend for a three game series against the Cubs and I, for one, have to get the hell out of here.  Between the injuries in the starting rotation and the anemic offensive production as of late, every ounce of my being is telling me to evacuate and seek higher ground.  I’m unstable enough as it is, I really don’t see how watching this bi-polar Cardinals squad play the Cubs in close proximity could help things.  Therefore, I’ve decided to hightail it back to my hometown in Iowa for the weekend.  That SHOULD be a safe enough distance to both watch the games in relative solitude and avoid jail time, although that’s really impossible to say with any certainty.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to just go ahead and put myself under heavy sedation.  One can never be too careful.

Albert Pujols – I think my sister has accumulated more RBIs over the past two weeks than Big Al, which is telling considering she’s never picked up a baseball bat in her life and is currently almost three months pregnant.  I hate to pick on all of the Cardinal’s most prominent players, but the truth is, I totally buy into the hype.  I expect these superhuman genetic freak shows to always perform at epic and unthinkable levels.  To see cracks in the veneer or evidence of ordinariness is THE WORST!  I do not want my hopelessly unrealistic illusions shattered! 

The Bachelorette – This is the most vapid and absurd donkey turd of a show that I’ve ever seen.  I had a few girls over for dinner last night and we proceeded to make a drinking game out of the season premiere, in which we had to drink every time one of those morons said something about  “being there for the right reasons”.  We proceeded to plow through four bottles of wine, although even THAT wasn’t enough to numb the appropriate number of brain cells necessary to stomach that hot mess.  Someone really needs to just lock the doors to that mansion during a rose ceremony and set it on fire.  We’d being doing humanity a favor and it would probably be a ratings bonanza.  Win, win!

Old Style – Since the Cardinals are a mere three days away from their first trip to Wrigley this year, I think it’s only appropriate to mention that I think drinking this swill is a really stupid tradition.  Old Style is not beer.  It is a genetic mutation of beer that should under no circumstances be ingested by humans.  Is anyone sure it doesn’t actually melt your liver upon impact?  I don’t trust it.  We’d probably all be safer drinking from the Wrigley Field urinals, which from what I understand, is a truly horrifying place.  Although if you think about it, the generous consumption of Old Style at Cubs games is a likely explanation for why the whole stadium smells like pee.

“Go, Cubs, Go” – I absolutely LOATHE this song.  It sounds like the result of a jam session between Barney the purple dinosaur, a deaf monkey and a member of the Black Eyed Peas.  For years, I genuinely thought it had to be a joke.  However, if there’s one thing Chicago fans take seriously, it’s their taste in shitty team anthems.  (See: “Bear Down, Chicago Bears.”)  It’s awful.  You might as well just extract your ear drums and smash them with a shovel.

Drinking coffee on an empty stomach I have really got to stop doing this.  No matter how many times it turns me into a complete paranoid schizophrenic, I still never learn.  I swear, this morning I was actually vibrating.  That can’t be healthy.