So what if Zeke is a rookie? And they didn't draft him #4 overall, given that he's a prototype 3-down back, to have him in a timeshare with Morris or McFadden. Behind that line, coupled with his skills as a runner, receiver, and pass blocker, there's no way he should fall past the first round.
The week between Christmas and New Year's Eve proved to be a very stressful one. Here's why:
My NFL picks sucked yet again, so I received tons of hate mail, which I will compile into one very large page soon. Here's a sample:
Dallas will not lose to the Saints and will cover....why do you do this Walt....go by each game and each year and each momentum boost...not statistics that tell u umm saint will win because they just lost....mark my words Dallas wins 31-27....Walt loses a 5 unit game AGAIN!!!!!
I have no idea what this person is trying to say. "Statistics tell u umm saintwill win because they just lost?" Did he take English classes with Emmitt Smith?
Whats all this read between the lines nonsense?? Walt put 4 units on the Lions. Why so cryptic if he meant his loyals to do otherwise? I say Walt is an idiot alcoholic or Vegas insider.
Umm... why can't I be both?
You are Terribbbbllleee!! No christmas presents being bought this year by any of your followers.
I have faith that my followers will find some way to save Christmas for their families this year. For instance, they can rob a liquor store. That's what I'd recommend anyway.
-400$ Walt, I know that's fake money because u ran out of dead presidents a long time ago~
Umm... no. Liquor stores can replenish money. Duh.
Half of my dad's Christmas present didn't arrive from Amazon.com - and as of this writing, it's still not here. Perhaps I should have known better than to order from a shady Russian vendor, even if his rating was high.
My left thumb was killing me. I've been recently diagnosed with left thumb tendonitis, and it wasn't too bad until Christmas week. It felt like someone was beating my thumb with a hammer whenever I did anything with it. I guess this is what happens when you become an old, fat man.
Jen broke up with Dawson and then Dawson tried to get with Joey, but she turned him down even though she wanted him in the first place, and then Jen slept with Dawson even though she was dating Cliff even though she told Cliff she didn't want to date him, but Joey saw this and ran away and hid in Dawson's closet, and Pacey kissed Joey and then told Dawson, who said he didn't want him to pursue her.
Yes, I've been watching Dawson's Creek, and no, not that there's anything wrong with that. Look, a guy friend of mine recommended it to me. And no, we do not anally pleasure ourselves with kielbasas - not that there's anything wrong with that either.
Side note: For anyone who has seen Dawson's Creek, I'm only through the first season, but I hate Dawson. He's a whiny b***h. He's lauded as this "nice guy" who deserves the girl over the stereotypical football jock, but he really seems like an a**hole to me. When his girlfriend Jen told him that she previously slept with her ex-boyfriend who came into town, Dawson remarked, "Him and half of New York." And Jen still wants to get back with him about a month later? Makes no sense. All he does is cry and complain the whole time. He's like the teenage version of Ted on How I Met Your Mother.
Side note to the side note: I'm openly rooting against Ted to meet the future mother of his kids. I'm hoping that the futuristic kids shown from time to time are just a fantasy of his. I think they can get away with it by suggesting that Ted found himself and realized that he didn't need a spouse to complete his life. And the person with the yellow umbrella? Maybe that's Ted. Remember, he once owned a yellow umbrella. Just a theory of mine. But I digress...
I went to the dentist to get a routine cleaning. My dentist insisted on stuffing a large plastic thing into my mouth (kinky) so that she could take X-rays. Upon inspecting the pictures, she determined that I need to get my wisdom teeth taken out because they'll get infected and then hurt like hell. My thumb already hurts, so as an old, fat man, I'm not exactly equipped for dealing with two areas of pain.
I naturally encountered a few jerks worth writing about. The first jerk instance occurred just as I had gotten home from the dentist.
1. Angry Black Man
About a month ago, I wrote about an angry black girl who somehow called me from my sister's number. She yelled at me, asking why I had been "callin' her boyfriend numba." I then messed around with her, telling her that her boyfriend and I had been going at it for about half a year. She proceeded to hang up on me, and that was that. I haven't heard from her since.
Well, apparently angry black people like calling me from my sister's number because that's the name that appeared when my phone rang as soon as I walked into my bedroom to get changed. I actually thought my sister was calling to discuss what sort of Christmas presents to buy for our parents, but instead, an angry black man began yelling at me.
Angry Black Man: Who dis!?
Me: Who are you?
Angry Black Man: Who dis!?
Me: You called me.
Angry Black Man: I wanna know who dis is!?
Me: Walt. Who are you?
Angry Black Man: I wanna know why you be callin' my girlfriend in the middle of the night!?
Angry Black Man: My girlfriend phone always be rangin' and I saw you callin' from dis numba!?
What's with all of these jealous, angry black people calling me? It was getting ridiculous, so despite the obvious perils of messing around with an incoherent black man, I thought it would be fun to turn this into a joke.
Angry Black Man: How long you been callin' my girlfriend numba in the middle of the night!? Tell me!
Me: Hmm... I have to think about that one.
Angry Black Man: Tell me how long is been goin on!
Me: OK, I'd say nine months off the top of my head. Maybe 10, but I'm not sure.
Angry Black Man: I so angry right na!!!
Me: I'm sorry dude. She and I have something special going on. She said she's about to break up with you.
Angry Black Man: If you don't stop callin' my girlfriend numba in the middle of the night, I'ma come to yo house!
Me: That's fine. I'm sure we'll be able to talk it over like proper gentlemen.
Angry Black Man: I tellin' you, I'ma come to yo house! I know where you be at!
Me: Oh really? What's my address then? You didn't even know who I was, so how do you know my address?
Angry Black Man: ...
Me: Tell me what my address is, and I'll stop banging your girlfriend behind your back.
Angry Black Man: ...
Me: Hello? Angry Black Man, are you there?
Angry Black Man: ...
Angry Black Man hung up on me. By my estimation, one of three things happened. 1) He utilized the few IQ points he had in his brain and realized that I was messing around with him. 2) He went to strangle his girlfriend for sleeping with a random guy. Or 3) He was coming to my house to kill me.
About 10 minutes later, my cousin Polina called me.
Polina: So, I just received an interesting phone call from your number.
Me: Was it an angry black man yelling at you for calling his girlfriend in the middle of the night?
Me: He just called me too.
Polina: He kept yelling at me, and I didn't understand what he was saying.
Me: I just messed around with him and told him that I had been sleeping with his girlfriend behind his back. He's probably coming to kill me now, but I don't care. I wonder how he's calling us from our numbers.
Polina: No idea, but I'm going to contact Verizon.
Me: Good idea. Hold on, my sister is calling me. Hello?
My Sister: Walt? Did you just call me?
Me: No. But I received a call from an angry black man from your number.
I told my sister what happened. She, Polina and I are still perplexed. I don't understand how angry black people are lucky enough to call us from our own numbers, yet are too dumb to realize that we are not sleeping with their better half.
I haven't heard from Angry Black Man (or Angry Black Girl, for that matter) since that day, so maybe they finally got around to ending each other's lives. That would make me sad, but only because it would put an end to the entertaining phone calls.
2. Bunn's Hipster
I planned to go swimming at my new gym one evening. I like to walk around the pool to see what temperature the water is because if it's too cold, I just won't swim. As an old, fat man, I don't like to freeze to death.
My usual pool threshold is 79 degrees, but I was simply not in the mood to be cold that particular evening, so when I saw that the pool temperature was 80 degrees, I decided to bolt after consulting with the half-asleep lifeguard.
Me: Is it really 80 degrees?
Me: Why can't it be warmer?
Lifeguard: I don't know. I have nothing to do with it.
Me: I don't think I'm going to swim today.
Lifeguard: Are you serious? Eighty degrees is not that bad!
Me: It's bad for an old, fat man like me!
Lifeguard: So, you're just going to leave the gym after just coming in and seeing what the pool temperature is?
Me: Umm... yeah.
I was out. I didn't plan on going home right away because I still had to stop by Bunn's Natural Foods. Now, you might be wondering if I've betrayed my race of old, fat men, and no, I haven't. I wasn't stopping by that store to purchase anything overly healthy. I was actually ordered there by my dentist because Bunn's sells this gum called Spry. It actually contains some sort of ingredient that prevents cavities from forming. Plus, it tastes pretty good, so I chew these Spry gum pieces all the time now. They're $7.99 for 100 pieces, so as a person who frequents the dentist's office, I highly recommend it because I've had fewer cavities since I started purchasing it.
I grabbed two 100-piece tubs of Spry - cinnamon and spearmint - and made my way to register. There was a guy in front of me who appeared as though he was heterosexually challenged. Trust me, my gaydar is pretty sharp. He wore thin glasses, some sort of vest and a black scarf - an outfit you'd see some hipster sporting while writing crappy poems at Starbucks.
My gaydar once again proved accurate when I heard the following exchange Bunn's Hipster had with the fat kid at the cash register.
Bunn's Hipster: Excuthe me, thir, I don't think it'th fair theth cookieth are on dithplay like thith!
Fat Kid: What? Why?
Bunn's Hipster: Thir, these cookieth on dithplay thay they are gluten-free even though they're from Albuquerque, which meanth they cannot be gluten-free!
Fat Kid: I don't get what you're saying.
I could tell that the fat kid had dealt with this a**hole before. The fat kid seemed overly annoyed, like he didn't want to talk to this pretentious douche.
Bunn's Hipster: Thith ith obviouthly a sham, and I am not going to take thith falth advertithing anymore.
Fat Kid: Well, I am not going to take your complaints anymore. There's a line behind you. You're being rude by holding everyone up.
Bunn's Hipster: I want to thpeak to your manager thir! Theth cookieth from Albuquerque are obviouthly not gluten-free!
Fat Kid: Well, you'll have to wait by the side because he's currently on break right now.
Bunn's Hipster seemed pretty pissed about this. He stormed to the other side of the counter, muttering "Jeezzth Chritthh" to himself. The fat kid then rung me up and took care of the next customer, all while Bunn's Hipster stood there with his arms crossed, waiting for the manager to address his concern.
I really have no idea what his issue was. Why can't cookies from Albuquerque be gluten-free? I actually Googled "Albuquerque gluten free," and the first thing that popped up was a Web site called GlutenFreeAlbuquerque.com.
So, if you can get gluten-free food from Albuquerque, why was Bunn's Hipster willing to wait around for the store manager just to complain about this? My theory is that he's part of a heterosexually challenged gluten group competing with GlutenFreeAlbuquerque.com, and he wants to destroy that Web site. That, or the Webmaster of GlutenFreeAlbuquerque.com is a another heterosexually challenged male who rejected Bunn's Hipster.
My guess is that Bunn's Hipster probably could have enjoyed kielbasa man sex with the Webmaster had he chosen a red scarf instead of a black one. My gaydar tells me that black scarves are out of style this season.
3. PA Wine & Spirits
About three years ago, when Jerks of the Week was in its infancy, I posted an e-mail from a Craig H., who when going into the state of Pennsylvania for the first time, quickly discovered something horrible - that liquor and beer cannot be sold in the same store. Sad. but true.
Pennsylvania, of course, does this for financial reasons. The overbearing government wants control of all the cash flow, so it jacks up the prices of liquor and sells it in stores it controls called PA Wine & Spirits. There are tons of these stores - there are 33 in my county alone per their Web site - and they're the only place in the state where you can purchase liquor.
Of course, as with every single shortsighted government plan, people find a way around it. For instance, almost everyone I know drives into New Jersey to buy their liquor. Yes, the gas money is costly, but they actually save cash because liquor is so much cheaper in New Jersey.
Me? Well, I'd do it if I weren't lazy. So, I planned on going to the local PA Wine & Spirits store after I finished my work on New Year's Eve. I needed to buy some liquor for a party I was throwing at my house that night.
I wrapped things up around 8. The standard hours for PA Wine & Spirits stores are 9-9 on weekdays and Saturday. I figured I had ample time, so I drove over to the beer distributor and bought a couple of cases. I then made my way to the PA Wine & Spirits store around 8:20, but quickly noticed that their sign was off. It was also dark in the store, and no one was in the parking lot, save for one guy who got out of his car before me and went to the door. He pulled on it, but it didn't open. I approached the door as well, and saw a sign that said: "Special Holiday Hours! New Year's Eve: 9 a.m. to 8 p.m."
Oh, thanks for those special holiday hours, a**holes. I was so pissed at that. It was freaking New Year's Eve. Shouldn't they have been open later rather than earlier? People are out late, so why not stay open late? You know, if these were individual liquor stores who wanted to stay financially competitive with other ones, they would have remained open close to midnight. But no - our asinine, overbearing government found a way to screw over people yet again.
As I was getting into my car, I saw that an older woman exited the store carrying a paper bag with a bottle of liquor inside of it. She was obviously an employee who treated herself to some alcohol after the store had closed. How convenient for her! I considered taking a chance and mugging her for her bottle of liquor, but A) I didn't know what she was carrying, and it could have been lame, and B) mugging elderly women is illegal for some reason. Like I said, our government sucks.
I thought that maybe it was just this particular store, so I drove to the closest Wine & Spirits, which was about six minutes away. That one was closed as well. I was so angry at that point that I sent out a mass text to most of the people coming to the party:
"Hey if you have any liquor, can you please bring it over because the GOD DAMN WINE AND SPIRITS STORE CLOSED AT 8 ON NEW YEAR'S EVE FOR SOME F***ING REASON!?!?"
Combining my frustration with PA Wine & Spirits and the ridiculous amount of construction going on outside of my development (which I'll get to shortly), my blood pressure was going through the roof. That's not good for an old, fat man like me. Fortunately, my friends brought over liquor, and I was able to drink myself into oblivion to conclude both the year and my jerk-comprised week.