So, this weekend is turning into a true Fujupz journey. Hoff and I made plans to head up to Cedar Point for Halloweekends. If you haven’t attended this event (or been to the park at all), I highly recommend both. While I’m not easily “scared” by Halloween shit, I’ve been startled a few times and have heard quite a few screams. As for the park itself, it’s hard to beat if you can make it a few times a year. Get the Platinum pass…but I’m getting way the fuck ahead of myself.
As usual, Hoff & I make some amazing plans at the very last second. Our plans (created over the course of three days, but solidified around 11pm Thursday night) were to wake up Continue reading
October is upon us… and actually has been for about a week and a half now. “I should write a post” I say as I can’t think of anything to write about. Another half assed-quasi political-economic post? No, no one gives a shit about that and I know nothing on the subject. “Things Hoff Hates”? Tempting, but usually I get in the mood for that when something pisses me off. So most of the time. No, this time is mostly about Transportation. Namely my transportation.
So it’s October, one of the best months of the year, and primarily for one reason…playoff baseball. Hello everybody, it’s Plonker, your favorite friendly, handsome, caring, giving, douche and I’m writing about baseball!
If you know me at all, you know I’m a huge fan of a certain baseball team that plays their home games on the corner of Carnegie and Ontario street in Cleveland. For those of you still unaware, they’re the Cleveland Indians. They’re having another solid season, and while anything can happen in the playoffs, their chances of sealing the deal this year are good. But I’m not here to talk to you about the game on the field, I’m here to talk to you about the games in the stands. I’m talking about us, the fans, the spectators…we are the worst.
This doesn’t apply just to Indians fans, mind you. All sports fans are terrible people ,that do terrible things, wear terrible clothes, and eat terrible food. Okay, so the food is pretty good.
Here’s my top three pet peeves at ballgames
1. “I’m only here because it’s an important game” guy.
I think I hate you more than others, but it’s a close call. You’re the asshole at a Yankees game in your Jets gear, at a Tribe game in your Browns shirt, at a Browns game in…well…do people still go to those? You’re only at the particular venue because you live close and you want to seem like you’ve been a fan all year. You’re literally wasting space in the ballpark. Please leave. Nobody cares about your chosen sport. If they did, they’d be there instead. You’re changing no minds
B. “I’m all dressed up in my gear” guy.
If you are older than 12, you should probably not have a glove on. Definitely leave the batting helmet at home, unless it’s plastic and filled with nachos or ice cream. You’re embarrassing yourself and the people sitting around you. If a ball comes your way (and it won’t, because you’re in the 500 level so you could save $4 on your ticket), grow a pair and use your hand to catch it. It’s not going to hurt you, but it might sting for a while. Just fucking catch it. I promise, they’re not going to call you out of the crowd to pitch the 9th inning, you’re not going to get to pinch hit with the bases loaded and 2 outs late in the game. You just look like a fool. Stop this.
4. “Jersey” dude
The same “older than 12” rule applies, but there’s an exception for women. Yes, it’s a double-standard. No, I don’t give a fuck. Don’t like it? Red “x” top right or left corner, folks!
You’re the fuckwit wearing a jersey…with a player’s name on it. I’ll never forget in high school, our golf coach pulled us aside and explained to use how in prison a man will take another man and make him his bitch. From then on, the bitch is his property. Now, we never asked why he told us that and we never asked how he knew, but I will say that you kiiiiiiinda have that “I’m (insert name) property” vibe. Believe me, nobody is mistaking you for that player. You just look like some dude’s prison wife.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Go tribe!
I’m going to jump right into it this week and something tells me this one might piss off a good amount of readers. Er…wait…this is fujupz… This is going to piss off our reader. Oh well.
Seriously. It’s time for the world to grow up. We’ve got six year olds pretending to be adults tweeting back and forth about war declarations (where none has been made) and then I have to hear about fantasy sports…football, to be a bit more precise. What. The. Actual. Fuck? Just so you’re aware, this is nothing new for me. I remember thinking as far back as high school, “wow this is dumb”. I don’t mean “hey let’s ride bikes to Cedar Point” dumb, but I’m also not talking about the level of intelligence it would take to write a dirty limerick.
Look, I get it, we all like to hang on to our glory years. There’s a reason I’m putting a fucking baseball (and football) field in my back yard. It’s so I can pretend to be awesome again. But make no mistake, I’m not…and neither are you. We’re both old, slower than we were, balder than we were, fatter than we were, and our penises are starting to fail us. Just accept it, decrepitude is upon us and father time (unlike your fantasy team) is undefeated.
And I don’t know if you noticed when you had your “fantasy draft” in June for the football season that just got started three (yes, 3) weeks ago…in August (See Also: Why the fuck does football go from July to February?), but the players you “drafted” don’t play with one another. It’s a goddamn team sport! Individual accomplishments are great, but they don’t necessarily translate from one “team” to the next. I can’t say “Oh man, Jordan Spieth made 93 birdies last month and Corey Kluber had 9 Ks and gave up 6 hits, so my team beat yours 147-12”. THIS ISN’T HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS!!! Imagine Tom Brady throwing to Browns receivers. Or, if you’re not a Browns fan like I am, and you want the experience of being a Browns fan, just go put your head on train tracks*.
Seriously folks, your fantasy leagues…need to stop. I’d have more respect if you got together every week and played Madden. At least that requires the skill of manipulating the controller while consuming beer and wings. What skill did you have in your “fantasy” sports? Joe Blow ran for 100 yards, Willy Nilly threw the touchdown pass….you….did nothing.
Go outside and play flag football, play Madden, play air hockey, go to B-dubs and play Golden Tee, play Chess, hell play Uno! At least all of those games have winners, unlike fantasy sports where there’s only losers.
*Disclaimer – don’t actually fucking put your head on train tracks. Are you that fucking stupid? Oh yeah, you play fantasy sports….you are.
