Sunday, October 12, 2008

It's time to declare Sundays non-canon

First: Here's the Roddy sketch I hinted at before. The expression is kinda blah, but I've been mindlessly crafting this sketch for two days now so I figured it deserved to be finished and posted.

Now, the ranting: What do you do when you've got massive momentum, have played all the hardest games on your schedule with great success, have not yet committed a turnover on offense and have one of the worst teams in history coming into your home stadium this week? If you're the Redskins, you MAKE MY SOUL HURT! I am too involved in football, man. This stuff can ruin my whole day.

Today was a "fuck it" day from the start. I had a dream in which I was visiting Andrew in some random place he was living while I was doing some cross-country trip, or something like that. Most notable: Dude had giant collection of candy! Wherever he was working used to sell candy but decided the demand wasn't high enough and let him take home the full candy rack. Dude was being sort of a dick in not letting me take all the candy I wanted. Listen, bro, if you have a bin of PEACH RINGS there will be no stopping me!

So I woke up with a a natural peach ring craving. Feeling like shit, and without any available drugs to go for a Hollywood style personal downfall, I decided to play the pitiful self-destructive role via food. I went back to Martins to grad my peach rings - in you FACE, Andrew! - and some TV dinners, since cooking for myself is a bitch due to my kitchen being gutted. As is is my habit, I hit up Chipotle for the scrumptious and waist-widening goodness. On the way I had to drive by two crosswalks. Each time the shopper decided to let me go instead, which is incorrect. The second time, I waved a woman through. She gestured for me to go, as she was waiting for her meandering child to get back to her. Naturally, the kid returned as soon as I went forward and dove into the crosswalk. Criminy. In line at Chipotle, a chattering couple in front of me really confused the staff, meaning their normally-efficient machine was working slightly off pace. I finished this up with an embarrassing verbal flub. Whatever, at least I had a "BURRITO!" and peach rings. Once home, self-destructive indulgences were a go!

THEY FOLDED MY BURRITO WRONG! This meant that when I got home I bit into my burrito to find a level of veggies, then a level of chicken, then a level of rice and finally a level of sour cream. Seriously, that's just cruel to a shut-in who is scared to leave his house like me. I may never leave home again after this disappointment.

Oh yeah... My "guaranteed fresh" peach rings were stale as well.

As I move to post this, I am about to lose my football consolation prize thanks to the Cardinals defense decided to take a nap with two minutes to go. There's still time for the Cowboys to lose, but today...

You know what, let's do a play by play:

-Dallas completes a long pass and clocks the ball with three seconds left just out of FG range.
-But wait! A Cardinal was INJURED AND UNABLE TO GET OFF THE FIELD! This means an offsides penalty by default!
-But wait! The Cardinals coach called a time out to ice the kicker, blowing his own team's victory.
-The kick is good! Overtime!
-Cowboys win the coin toss, of course.
-Oh, and I just noticed the 49ers collapsed, giving the Eagles a win. Fuck.
-Back to the game: SACK! FUMBLE! Romo recovers, so fuck him.
-Romo throws to the receiver in the first row in the stands for a while, so they must punt.
-But wait! There's a penalty!
-It's on the... COWBOYS?! Holy shit. The win stands! FUCK YOU, DALLAS!

I still won't be happy until the Giants get destroyed by my Browns. (HA!) Hey, the game is on Monday, so today's fuckly nature might not affect it!

One more complaint: The makers of iTunes need to be raped with cacti in every orifice. The "upgrade" seems to have been designed to force PC uses to switch over by MAKING ITUNES NEXT TO USELESS!

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