Couldn't agree more. Berman is one of the top 10 (wait...let's double check ESPN's roster...), top 5 talents ESPN has. In fact, I propose a White House petition to bring back, back, back, back, back the Berman/Jackson NFL Primetime.
A month ago, I posted the Twelve Jerks of Christmas - 12 jerks that I saw at Neshaminy Mall when I was doing my Christmas shopping.
I went back to the scene of the crime on Friday to buy my mom a couple of birthday presents. As I suspected, I found more jerks to rant about:
Parking Space Hog:
I actually wanted to get to the mall earlier in the week, but that was impossible because of all of the snow. On Friday afternoon, I finally made it out of my house for the first time since Tuesday evening. As I pulled out of my garage, I hissed at the sun and covered my eyes. And what was this tingling sensation I was feeling on my skin? I always keep my house at 74 degrees. It was colder than 74 degrees in my car. Unacceptable!
The roads were clear, so I made it to Neshaminy Mall safely. Unfortunately, the parking lot was a mess. Only about half the spots were available, as mountains of snow covered the other spaces.
After about 10 minutes of driving around in circles, I finally found a parking spot. However, this fat Indian lady (or Native American lady, if you want to be politically correct) pulled into the spot across from me. This wouldn't have been a big deal, except she parked half of her car across the line.
So, thanks to Parking Space Hog, I had maneuver my car as close to hers as possible. I did a good job with this, yet a third of my car was still sticking out. Unfortunately, Parking Space Hog already rolled off to the mall, so I couldn't yell at her.
Not that I would have anyway. Being super politically correct, I wouldn't want to sound angry about taking a Native American's parking spot away. Haven't we stolen enough from them already?
Justin Bieber Fan:
My mom likes to read, so my first stop was Barnes & Noble. I found a couple of books and brought them to the register. This Mexican family was ahead of me in line. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until the youngest of the three Mexican children, a chubby boy of around 11 years old, ran to the magazine rack and exclaimed:
Really, kid? Of all the celebrities on the covers of the magazines, you're most enthralled with Justin Bieber? Not Katy Perry, Miley Cyrus or that Lauren chick from the Hills?
Look, I have no problem with Bieber. He seems like a decent kid, and his music isn't terrible. Sure, he has a lesbian haircut, but who doesn't nowadays? Even Tom Brady's a fan.
But for a young, chubby Mexican kid to be completely smitten with him? Well, not that there's anything wrong with that.
The Poop-Poop Train:
Upon exiting Barnes & Noble, I heard something in the distance that sounded like some sort of train. It was weird.
As I walked toward the food court, the sound gradually grew louder. I eventually saw what was causing the noise.
This little kid (maybe 5 years old) was holding both of his parents' hands and yelling: "POOP-POOP! POOP-POOP! POOP-POOP!"
He wouldn't stop. Either this kid had to drop a deuce, or he wanted to ride some sort of magical poop-poop train.
I don't know about you, but the poop-poop train sounds kind of fun.
Fat Card Chick:
I eventually purchased all of my mom's gifts (and something for myself, of course). The only thing left was finding a card.
I like to buy funny cards, but all of the dog cards at Hallmark were really lame. Seriously, there was a card of a dog with a plane flying in the sky in the background. The inside read: "I'm an air head." Seriously. People are paid to come up with crap like that. What is this world coming to?
I spotted a card of Barack Obama. I was curious as to what this one would say. "I'm an air head?" Now that would be a funny card.
I opened it up and laughed out loud as I read, "President Barack Obama. See... There are scarier things than turning a year older."
I took this card to the register. The fat chick behind the counter (late-20s) smiled at me and asked me how I was doing. She seemed nice, so I wondered what her agenda was. Did she think I was hot? Did she want to eat me? Perhaps both?
I stopped thinking about this when I spotted this hot blond chick wearing a purple hoodie walking around the store. She was with an older woman, presumably her mom, so I couldn't attempt to get rejected by her or anything.
Meanwhile, the fat chick behind the counter wasn't too pleased. I'm not sure if she was offended by the card I bought or insulted that I was checking out another girl, but she scowled and literally tossed my change back at me.
Now that's the spirit, Fat Card Chick! I'm sure throwing money at me is the most exercise you've done in years, so it's a start. Keep doing that and you'll lose about 600 pounds in no time!
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 2: State of the Union Address
Barack Obama supporters, no need to skip this entry. I'm not going to discuss the actual State of the Union Address, and how hypocritical and myopic it was. Seriously, Barack, don't compare the United States-China economic competition to the Space Race when you shut down the space program, moron.
You see? I'm not going to criticize the speech at all. I just hated this State of the Union Address because I've always hated the State of the Union Address.
The State of the Union Address is the worst time of the year. On a random Tuesday in January over the past 12 years, our president - whether that's George Wonderbread Bush or Barack No-Bama - has gotten on stage, said absolutely nothing meaningful and bored us all to death with lies. Worst of all, they've preempted my favorite TV shows.
In the early 2000s, it was 24. Then it was Lost. This year, it was V. I was looking forward to V. Forget the ridiculous plot line; the blond chick on the show is amazingly hot. Unfortunately, around 7 p.m. I realized that V would be postponed because of the stupid speech.
My dad was also upset about the State of the Union Address. I went to my parents' house that night, and I sat down with my dad as he was listening to Obama. What my dad said during the president's speech was hilarious. Here are some of his comments:
"Shut the f*** up, motherf***er!"
"Piece of s*** f***ing idiot."
"Talk talk talk, all do is talk, but you don't do anything motherf***er!"
"Bull - s***! Everything you say is bulls**t!"
"Spend spend spend! Let's spend some more, motherf***er! We haven't spent enough!"
"F*** you! F**********k you!!!!"
"Our economy will be horrible! You've ruined everything, a**hole motherf***er!"
My mom, who was in the next room, repeatedly told my dad to calm down, but it didn't work. Every word Obama uttered made my dad more and more agitated. About 10 minutes later, he couldn't take it anymore. He picked up the remote, changed the channel and exclaimed, "I can't listen to this f***ing a**hole anymore." This was probably for the best because my dad recently had a heart attack.
So, congrats Obama. Not only did you cancel V; you nearly gave my dad another heart attack. I doubt I'll be voting for you in 2012 - though setting me up on a date with that hot blond chick from V might sway me.
JERK OF THE WEEK NO. 3: My Night in the Dark
I saw the most amazing thing Wednesday evening. It was snowing hard out, and it was actually thunder storming at the same time. I've never seen the two occur simultaneously, so I Googled it just to make sure all hell wasn't breaking loose on Earth. Sure enough, this rare phenomenon is called thunder snow.
Concerned that I'd lose power in my house, I tweeted (@walterfootball) that I'd have my NFL updates posted momentarily unless I lost power.
Turns out I'm some sort of prophet.
This prophet was dropping a deuce around 2:30 in the morning. Afterward, I planned to update my home page, do my daily 15 minutes of crunches and then go to bed. As I was on the toilet, I was reading a review of a new video game called Dead Space 2 in the Game Informer magazine. Dead Space 2 is about a guy trying to fight off disgustingly frightening necromorphic aliens on a space station.
Suddenly, all the lights went out. It was completely dark. Were the necromorphic aliens coming to get me? If they were, couldn't they at least wait until I finished pooping?
Running to my office with my pants down - don't get too excited, ladies - I reached into my desk and grabbed a flashlight before sprinting back to the bathroom.
After finishing my business - it really helped that I could now see what I was doing - I looked outside and noticed that all of the street lights were out.
Normally, I would have just gone to bed, but as I mentioned, I had to update my home page. So, I went back into my office and located the number for PECO. I dialed the number and heard an automated message that asked me to input my home phone number. Unfortunately, I didn't know my home number - I've never used it - so I guessed.
The PECO machine told me the number I entered was invalid, so it asked me to input my account number. That would have been easy - unfortunately, at that very moment, my flashlight died, so I couldn't see my account number on the bill. The PECO machine, meanwhile, was getting impatient.
PECO Machine: Please input your PECO account number now.
Me: Wait. Ah, crap.
PECO Machine: We're sorry, but that account number is invalid.
I hung up and decided to call my house with my cell phone, but that didn't work because the caller ID wasn't on. Then, I realized that I could just look for the house number in the contacts list on my cell phone. You see, when the lights aren't on, it takes me a while to figure these things out.
I called PECO back, but I didn't have to input anything this time. The PECO machine somehow knew my house number and asked me if it was correct. After replying "yes," the PECO machine told me that power would be restored between "3:20 a.m. and 5:30 a.m."
Ugh. So, what was I going to do for 2-and-a-half hours?
I went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth. This proved to be difficult, because I couldn't see where I was putting the toothpaste. I completely missed my toothbrush and felt the toothpaste plop onto my sock. After that, I washed my face - only I had to look up every five seconds to make sure an undead alien wasn't about to eat me.
I then realized that there might be another flashlight in my house. I went downstairs and reached around in my kitchen drawer. I grabbed something that seemed like a flashlight, but I picked it up and noticed it was a pizza cutter. I put it back, rummaged some more and grabbed what appeared to be a flashlight, but it was the same pizza cutter. Undaunted, I tried again. I finally found the flashlight - the third time had to be a charm, right? - except it was the pizza cutter once again.
I gave up. I went back to the office and turned off the screensaver on my laptop, which had about 70 percent battery life remaining. I went to my iTunes and listened to a LOST podcast I downloaded a while ago as I did some crunches. However, I was interrupted by a phone call from the home security people.
Hot-Sounding Girl: Hi, this ADT security calling.
Uh-oh. With my power out, the necromorphic aliens may have gotten into my house - and all I have to defend myself with is a stupid pizza cutter!
Hot-Sounding Girl: We noticed that your power is out. Do you need any assistance?
How about you assist me, baby? Giggity, giggity.
I told the hot-sounding chick that the entire neighborhood lost power, so everything was OK, save for the toothpaste on my sock. She didn't seem to care about my current sock problem.
I don't know what happened during the next hour. I killed time by doing more crunches, stretching out my horrible back and looking at random porn on my computer. At 4:15, I finally decided that I was too tired to wait.
As I was going to bed, I decided to call PECO one last time for an update. As the PECO machine answered my call again, all the lights turned on. Yay! The PECO machine, however, wasn't convinced.
PECO Machine: The problem will be fixed between 4:20 a.m. and 6:30 a.m.
Me: Screw you, PECO machine!
I walked back to my office and finished the home page updates. I posted them in the forum and discussed my night. Forum member Chg91 replied:
When white people's lights go out, they panic. When black people's lights go out, they plan it.
Me? Panic? As if. I was ready to battle undead aliens with a pizza cutter. Yeah, like that's panicking.