chou chope

liberal jism

it's the last weekend of the soccer season. can i get a hell yeah? saturdays will soon be mine again. no more searching for the kelly green soccer socks on gameday, no more searching for the cleats. ah, the end of the season.

so we go to alex's last game. i'm annoyed. the worthless dumbass from the post office is there with his wife/live-in/whatever the fuck they call it. i despise these people. besides the fact that their boy is a worthless daydreaming fairy, we had some words i meant to blog about a while back...

one day i went to mail a package at the teeny tiny town post office. it's lunchtime and the line is out the door. i'm talking with a client who is also in line when i spot fairy boy's sperm donor in the back.

i say, "hey, how are you? do you recognize me? our sons are on the same soccer team, the bullets?" granted, we are ten games into the season. i've seen this fool almost ten consecutive weekends.

he says, "uh, no, sorry, but i really don't go there to check out the parents."

then he shuns me as if i have just reached out and felt his ass or something. not another word, just that. OMFG!! i'm stunned and my client is standing right there when my chin goes thud on the tile floor. does he think i would ever in my worst nightmare check him and his squirrely assed 2 foot fucking goatee out??? i guess he did.

so he's there at the game and as usual, twelve games into the season, his son is doing cartwheels and acts as if he's never seen a ball before. i'm competitive, i don't get that. i have to restrain myself from saying anything in the bleachers. it's all got to be "good game" and "way to play." can't stray too far from there, might cause an identity crisis.

alex scored 4 goals in the game and they won it! he was really excited and it was such a losing season (2-10) for his team, it was neat to end on a happy note. and i didn't call anyone a worthless dumbfuck, extra points!! at least not where they could hear it, i don't think.

wish the same were true for true. holy cow. their father showed, with the whole dirty, unshaven, hippie crew in tow. he was wearing his signature goofass goggles. and truly it was a thing of beauty, because guess where they decided to sit? that's right, right next to me.

i wish i could say that they just blended right in and it was all cool. no, as if the mongo look-at-me nuclear fallout goggles weren't enough, at half time when true's team took a seat, team grunge took the field. performance art. of all the near perfect families that i've seen alongside the soccer field, i have never before seen this. frolicking half-assed, non-dependable, non child supporting, worthless piece of shit starring as father of the fucking year, again. as i live and breathe. but the game ended, my kids left and i was all alone with my sour attitude.

do you think you've had taste of bitterness in your lives, my sweets? i don't want to win this prize, but i can't help but feel like a shoo in. go ahead, revel in your normalcy, in your home grown american weirdness, but vote for republicans please. the last thing you want to do with these monkeys is start agreeing with them. fa reals, when that happens we're all fuct.

Posted by shoe at October 30, 2006 07:30 PM | TrackBack