(I think my math is right.)
A lot has changed in the last five weeks - I don't even remember putting Carson Wentz on my board and now he's heavily projected to go 2nd overall - so this should be an interesting change of pace from my last draft. Updates will be weekly or bi-weekly from here on out.
I always look forward to Christmas shopping. Do I like the warm feeling of finding the perfect gifts for my family? Meh. I love Christmas shopping because it gives me a chance to find jerks at the mall.
And yes, it's Christmas shopping. Not Hanukkah shopping; not Kwanza shopping; not Festivus shopping; not the dreaded winter holiday shopping. It's called freaking Christmas shopping, no matter what you celebrate. If I just offended you, then mission accomplished. I hate political correctness more than hippies, bums and the fat women at my gym who want to eat me.
This year, I'd like to present the Twelve Jerks of Christmas. I found 12 jerks in my two hours at the mall.
1. Red-Head with Hot A**
I like to get Flyers and 76ers stuff for my dad, whether it's an autographed puck or a personalized picture. So, I walked into the sports store, and I immediately noticed this red head in her early 20s with an amazing a**. Seriously, if angels saw it, they would cry. Unless they were gay (not that there's anything wrong with that.)
After browsing through the back of the store, I wandered toward the front again where the red-head was checking out various pictures. I guess both she and I realized there was nothing we wanted in the store, because we both left shortly afterward.
I then spotted a sports memorabilia table and walked toward it. The red-head apparently noticed it to.
I followed her over and began scanning through all of the items. I didn't know what to get, so I went around the table, inadvertently following her in the process. Eventually, she seemed to notice that I was right behind her the whole time, so I figured I should say something.
Me: I guess you don't know what to get either?
Red-Head with Hot A**: Hmph!
Red-Head with Hot A** gave me a disgusted look and walked away.
Damn it, I was THIS close to getting her number.
2. Action Figure Nerd
Moments later, I was looking through some Philadelphia Flyers autographed pictures. Suddenly, I noticed this blond chick who also had a great a** (but slightly worse than the red-head's).
Unfortunately, my viewing was interrupted by this annoying kid with glasses (about 14) who stepped in front of her. He and his mom were looking at some Philadelphia Phillies action figures, and I overheard their conversation.
Action Figure Nerd: This player is worth $10, mom!
Mom: OK, dear.
Action Figure Nerd: And this player is worth $15!
Mom: Just pick one out.
Action Figure Nerd: Aww what a rip-off, this is worth $20 and they're selling it for $30!
First of all, kid, how the hell do you know the prices of all these action figures? And second, how are you not distracted by that hot blonde? Stop living in your nerd world and get a life!
3. Brain-Dead Cashier
I finally decided what to get my dad - an autograph picture of the Flyers' new Russian goalie on a plaque. He's been ranting and raving about this Russian goalie, so I figured he would like it.
I brought the picture to the cash register. The cashier, a silver-haired man in his 60s, asked me if that was it. I thought about it for a second, and asked, "Actually, could I get the black Flyers coffee mug you have too?"
The cashier went around the table and grabbed a box. He opened it, revealing a clear Flyers beer stein. He looked at me and asked, "Is this what you want?"
Seriously, how the hell do you confuse a black coffee mug and a clear beer stein?
Me: No, I wanted the black coffee mug.
Brain-Dead Cashier: Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
Brain-Dead Cashier went around the table and disappeared for about a minute. He came back holding a Flyers shot glass.
Me: No, I don't want a clear Flyers shot glass. I want the black coffee mug.
Brain-Dead Cashier: Eh?
Me: Ugh, I'll show you.
I went around the table and pointed to the black coffee mug.
Brain-Dead Cashier: Oh, you wanted the coffee mug!
4. Hollister Girl
I was done shopping for my dad. I didn't want to break the coffee mug and have to endure that entire ordeal again, so I decided to go back to my car.
On my way, I was stuck walking behind a man and presumably his 13-year-old daughter. I overheard their conversation:
Hollister Girl: I want to go to Hollister!
Dad: We'll go later.
Hollister Girl: I want to go to Hollister now!
Hollister Girl: I want to go to Hooollliiissstteeeeeeeeeeerrrr!!!
You know who doesn't want to go to Hollister? This guy - especially now that I know what sort of clientele they have.
5. Gay Nail Guy 2.0
Gay Nail Guy 2.0, a heterosexually challenged, well-dressed foreigner, is an upgrade over the original Gay Nail Guy I referenced two months earlier (not that there's anything wrong with that).
Just as I approached the food court, Gay Nail Guy 2.0 stopped me.
Gay Nail Guy 2.0: Jeeezz Chritthh do you have a wife or girlfriend?
Gay Nail Guy 2.0: How old are you, jeezzz chrith?
Me: I'm 28. Look, I know what you're going to ask me...
Gay Nail Guy 2.0: Jeeezz Chritthh, let me zee your nails. Hold out your hand, jeezzz chrith.
Me: No. I've done this before. You put some stuff on my nail and make it all shiny.
Gay Nail Guy 2.0: No no no no no you never do zis before.
Me: No. I've done this before.
Gay Nail Guy 2.0: You never do zis before. Come here let me show you.
Me: No, I know what you're going to do and I don't want any part of it!
Gay Nail Guy 2.0: OK, fine, you do zis before.
These guys are out of control, and each new edition of Gay Nail Guy gets worse. Gay Nail Guy 3.0 may just take over the world and turn every male into a metrosexual.
Look, I'm a straight man. I have no use for having shiny nails. In fact, I want the opposite of shiny nails. I want my nails to be as dirty as possible. I want them to be black. I want them oozing with pus and blood. I want them falling off. I want them anything but shiny. So to all the Gay Nail Guys out there, leave me the hell alone!
6 and 7. Sears Employees
I made it back to my car without getting my nails shined. I then walked back to the mall and headed toward Sears.
Before I stepped into Sears, I noticed two people on either side of the entrance yelling, "Donate to breast cancer research!" Luckily, I walked in with a swarm of people so they didn't have a chance to harass me.
I went up to the second floor and wandered into the electronics section. I spotted an employee - a guy in his 30s with long brown hair, glasses and a goatee...
Me: Hi, I'm looking for a Blu Ray player.
Sears Guy: She can help you out with that.
Sears Guy pointed to another Sears employee, a Spanish chick in her mid 20s.
I've never seen such a polarizing woman. On one hand, she had a cute face and an amazing body. On the other hand, she had a mustache, braces and dandruff in her hair. I was aroused, yet wanted to vomit at the same time.
Me: Hi, I'm looking for a Blu Ray player.
Spanish Sears Chick: OK, zeees vay.
I'm not exaggerating by saying "zeees vay." This girl could barely speak English. We walked toward the Blu Ray players. She looked through the boxes, which went sort of like this:
Spanish Sears Chick: But maybe zeees eeeez not Bloooo Ray.
Me: But it says Blu Ray on the box.
Spanish Sears Chick: What about zeeees one?
Me: That says Blu Ray too.
Spanish Sears Chick: What eeef zeeees eeeez Bloooo Ray?
Me: I'm pretty sure that's a Blu Ray player.
This exchange went on for about 10 minutes. She was finally convinced that the box I picked out contained a Blu Ray player. I paid for it and headed toward the escalator.
As I was walking back downstairs, it occurred to me that I should save myself the time and buy the new Donkey Kong Country Returns Wii game here rather than walk to the other side of the mall to Game Stop.
So, I went back upstairs. I didn't see the hot/obscene Spanish chick, but I spotted the goateed guy from before.
Me: Hi, I wanted to get a Wii game, but it's locked behind a glass case.
Sears Guy: OK.
I walked toward the Wii games. I turned around to show Sears Guy which game I wanted, but he wasn't there. He completely disappeared.
I went back and noticed that he was talking to Spanish Sears Chick. She then walked over to me and asked, "Eeez someseeeng wrong with Bloooo Ray?"
Sears Guy is a lazy douche. Rather than just helping me, he walked all the way over to some illegal immigrant to get her to help me. It's bad enough that you're paying her 25 cents an hour; you could at least do some of the work.
8 and 9. Sears Layout and Charity People
Completely done my Christmas shopping, I went back down to the first floor of Sears.
"Now, all I have to do is get out of here," I thought to myself.
Easier said than done. I had no idea where I came in. I wandered one direction and ventured into the tools section, somewhere I had never been before. So, I turned around and eventually wandered into item pick-up section.
I seriously had no idea where I was. I felt like a lab rat stuck in a maze. I saw something that looked like the exit, but after walking toward it, I realized it was only a mirror.
I was ready to break down and cry, when I heard five magical words:
"Donate to breast cancer research!"
Yes! The exit!
I happily skipped over to the exit. Unfortunately, there were no other people to block me this time.
Annoying Guy: Donate to breast cancer research!
Annoying Girl: Proceeds go to Fox Chase Cancer Research Center!
Both people stared back at me. I thought about putting a dollar into their bucket, but there was something about the way they looked at me - like I was a scumbag or something if I didn't donate.
So, I decided not to donate any money. If they weren't so smug, I would have. But I just walked by with a wry smile on my face. Take that, douche bag cancer research supporters!
10 and 11. Kids at the Mall
Kids don't belong at the mall.
Case in point No. 1:
I sat on the bench right outside Sears typing stuff into my phone so I wouldn't forget anything for this Jerks of the Week entry.
As I was doing this, this little girl - she must have been 3 years old or so - was walking around crying. There wouldn't have been anything significant about this, but her mother, who was walking behind her, had a brown leash tied around this girl's waist.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This woman essentially decided to take her daughter out for a walk at the mall. And there weren't even any fire hydrants for her to pee on.
Case in point No. 2:
Immediately after the mom and daughter walked by, I heard the following behind me:
"I got raped 10 times on the ground!"
I quickly turned around. The person saying this was some 13-year-old Harry Potter look-alike. He had the bushy hair and glasses, only he was inexplicably wearing an eye patch under his glasses for whatever reason.
Really? You've been raped 10 times? I doubt it. I don't look like Harry Potter and I don't wear eye patches, yet I can't get any semi-attractive women to rape me. What a cruel world I live in.
At any rate, Harry Potter Eye Patch Kid spotted an elderly man walking out of Sears.
Harry Potter Eye Patch Kid: Hello mister!
Old Man: Meh!
Oh. You meant you were raped by old NAMBLA men 10 times. That makes more sense.
I never wrap my Christmas or birthday presents. Why? Well...
1.I don't have any wrapping paper.
2. I don't have any Scotch Tape.
3. I don't know how to wrap.
It's true. I failed arts and crafts in grade school, so I was destined to suck at wrapping. I just can't do it. If I tried, there would be a greater chance that my house would explode than my gift actually getting wrapped.
As I was leaving the mall, I noticed that Barnes & Noble had a wrapping station. "Cool!" I thought. "I can surprise everyone by having their gifts wrapped this year. No more gift-giving in plastic bags!"
I walked over to the wrapping station and placed all my items on the counter. The lady behind it, a fat behemoth with a mole on her face, looked at me like I was an idiot.
Fat Wrapper: We only wrap gifts from this store.
Me: Really? But I'll pay full price for it. I really wanted these gifts wrapped.
Fat Wrapper: I'm sorry. We only wrap Barnes & Noble items.
Me: But... but I'll pay extra.
Fat Wrapper: I'm sorry. I can't help you.
What the hell? I was f***ing willing to pay extra, you fat whore!
Congratulations, Barnes & Noble, thanks to your fat employee and your idiotic policy, you lost out on some money.
Of course, the revenue loss is negligible when you take into account all of the Barnes & Noble snacks that Fat Wrapper consumes every day.