Tag Archives: Sports

bows and arrows don’t kill people, people kill people

It’s been a while, I know. Master’s degrees are no joke, they take up way too much time.

On to important news:

I think my list of things that make me fear for society needs to be extended. So sit back, relax, and soak up the reality of 2012.

1) Remember when books were about web’s made by Charlotte, or where the wild things are? Not anymore. Now books are about 12-18 year-olds figuring out how to kill each other.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m on the bandwagon. I’m drinking the Katniss Everdeen Kool-Aid and am now enlightened into understanding my complete and utter inability to survive in a society where the object is killing off your children for sport. Saturday night 7:10, Century Theaters, front row.

someecards.com - Let's kick off spring by sitting in a dark theater watching teenagers murder each other

2) Why is there the ability to buy two plane tickets for one person. That. Should. Never. Happen.

3) When a perfectly respectable donut shop also decides to sell Pho soup for lunch. This odd pairing is too much for me. I could never ever get past the pungent sugar smell mixed with sodium infused broth. I fear this odd combination may only be the beginning. Businesses are finding some interesting ways to stay afloat. I however, will not be able to support this endeavor. Unless it’s a scone shop that also sells pizza. Note to self: Write down this amazing business idea.

4) Since when did 20 year olds begin dominating the banking business. They can barely tie their shoes, let alone advise me on whether or not I need a money order or a certified check. Go back to Starbuck’s where you belong! I enjoy your witty banter when I’m purchasing my over priced, burnt espresso latte, but I’d rather not have my checking account open while you talk about funny YouTube videos about girls who can’t do math.

5) Shopping used to be fun. Now it sucks. If I have to hear, “No I’m sorry we don’t have that, but you should check online” one more time. I might just have a meltdown and scream in the store. Why do you have a store if you aren’t going to carry the product? The world is minimizing the need for retail workers by always having 30 pairs of size 2 jeans and nothing else. Size 2 is for anorexics or pre-teens…give me a meat and potatoes size. I’ll buy it I swear.

6) And last on my rant list today….articles titled¬†Why You Should Never Retire.

 
Side note: Dear Peyton Manning~ How am I to enjoy your new team and all that it represents? When just last week they were praying with Tim Tebow and washing their uniforms with Tide Extra (ya know…to get out the grass stains from kneeling so much). Regardless, I have some serious soul searching to do before next Fall. I suppose you could win me over, somehow, but it will be difficult. I’ll keep you posted.

Scones and Pizza,

Swan

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tim tebow is not jesus

In honor of Super Bowl Sunday, I thought it only proper etiquette to discuss my view of the sport.

(No they aren’t playing football. Yes this makes a reference to football. If you don’t get it then I sort of¬†definitely feel sorry for you.)

 

I actually enjoy watching this very confusing, over-funded sport. It’s very weird. I’ve actually, at times, been very into a game only to look over and see my husband has fallen asleep. It’s supposed to be the other way around, right?

However, when his beaming face is engaged in all that is football, I find myself asking questions about the process and sparkly helmets, as well as making wildly ill advised proclamations regarding how I feel about various teams and players. For example:

I wonder how the Mannings decide which game to go to every week.

I don’t like the 49ers because of their outfits.

How many coaches does each team have?

Who are the people on the sidelines wearing all blue? They look like they are wearing Snuggies.

Even with all of this nonsense I really am understanding things more and more with every week. Is this a good use of time? Who’s to say. But on a day like today at least I’ll have a vague recollection of who’s playing who. However, I’m not looking forward to being exposed to Madonna’s man arms.

Regardless, enjoy your 7-layer dips, copious amounts of beer, and pigs in a blanket. We’ll all wake tomorrow realizing the season is over. Some will cry, others will rejoice. Two facts remain, Tim Tebow is not Jesus, and Peyton Manning very well could be.

Patriots and Giants,

Swan

p.s. Happy Belated Birthday Mother Dearest! Make some Mexican Lasagna for half-time and I’ll pretend I’m indulging too.

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